The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum - View Single Post - Prisoner of Númenor Planning/Discussion Thread

piosenniel · 02-27-2005, 03:48 PM

Feanor of the Peredhil's character

NAME: Inzillomí Elendili - Flower of the Night; Mórelóte - Dark Flower

AGE: 103

RACE: Numenorean

GENDER: Female

WEAPONS: Carries no visable weapons, such being labeled highly "inappropriate" for a lady, and knowing that a show of arms tends to complicate matters. However, being in a dangerous position, Inzillomí has taken to wearing a wide sash rather than a belt, in which she has tucked two small throwing knives and a highly visable but not particularly ornamental fan with razor tips. The fan's silk is black with pale lotus blossoms; a gift from her father, Elendil. She is highly competent with a staff, can hit the target nine times of ten with a long bow, although she rarely actually uses them. Moving silently in the shadows, an enemy is most likely to never know she was there until it's too late. However, Inzillomí prefers not to kill anyone, so she tends to leave her enemies unconscious and tied up in the woods somewhere. Due to a small vial of pale blue liquid that she carries in her ever convenient sash, these would be attackers rarely remember they were actually attacked by a woman, putting the experience down to bandits.

APPEARANCE: Much like a panther, Inzillomí is dark and mysterious. She is long-limbed and slender, but muscular from years of riding and secret arms training in preparation of the day she and her kin would have to fight for their beliefs. Her skin is pale, her grey eyes set off by her shock of black hair that falls in soft waves to her waist. Full crimson lips quick to smile. Soft arms quick to pull you into a comforting hug. Being more comfortable in men's clothing, Inzillomí still understands the importance of looking "proper" by other people's standards and compromises by wearing gowns with fitted bodices, but flared skirts for easy riding. Being less than fond of the high-class style of covering ones legs, but showing a large expanse of one's bosum, Inzillomi has her gowns made with a simple but high neck. Inzillomi is ever the proper lady, at least when people are watching.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Shares her husband's (Abârpânarú Karíbzîr) love for horses. Adores her husband, loves her daughter. Loves Marsillion as a son and Ziraphel as a sister. She's the type of woman that anyone can go to for anything, and she can solve most problems with no honor lost on any side. She is a rather typical "housekeeper" sort, preferring to do household work herself, but when the hired help complains that they'll soon be out of a job, she meekly retreats to the sidelines. Inzillomí is not the type to sit by and watch others do the work, preferring to do anything she is capable of, which is much. Although Inzillomí tends to be right (and stemming from that, strong-minded), if her husband or her father inform her that she's not, she immediately steps down. Her strengths are mostly her people skills and her strategic mind, but her weaknesses are her love for her family, her horses, and anyone under her watch. She refuses to "sacrifice one for the good of the many", believing that the "many" is nothing without each individual "one". Not remarkably fond of ships.

HISTORY: The oft forgotten sister of Isildur and Anárion, Inzillomí had a happy and innocent childhood. Named Flower of the Night for her brilliantly black hair, she was fondly called Mórelóte (Quenya for Dark Flower) by her father Elendil. Growing up in a Faithful household, Inzi knew little else until she was full grown, her father having refrained from informing her. As the only daughter of Elendil, Inzillomí is fluent in Sindarin, with a firm grasp of Quenya. One afternoon while Inzillomí was out riding, a heavy fog rolled in leaving her lost and somewhat nervous. Stumbling, she fell and hurt her ankle. Her horse bolted. Drawn by her cries, Abârpânarú Karíbzîr, riding one of his precious kariborim, came to her aid. Falling in love, they married in 3279. As a young couple, the two lived in a large house just outside of Andunië. Raising the former slave, Tiru, Inzillomí and Abârpânarú taught him their beliefs and came to think of him as part of the family. In 3287, a daughter, Kâthâani, was born.

Drawing on her own upbringing and her husband's beliefs, the two taught their beloved Cerveth the old values and passed on their love and trust of the Valar. Inzillomí and Abârpânarú made a point to never discuss their prominence amongst the hidden Faithful with their daughter until she became of an age to understand. In the early 3300s the small household relocated to a smaller home further outside the city where they soon became an important contact point for the Faithful still braving the West. Abârpânarú's sister Ziraphel lived with the family and in 3317 her son Marsillion came to stay. As political tensions heated, Inzillomí urged her husband to send those members of the household who would not be missed by the King's Men east. With word from Elendil expected any day, apprehension rose in the house of Karíbzîr.

-----

Feanor of the Peredhil's post

The rain poured from the black clouds like so many thousand tears. Lightening lit the tormented sky as another wave shifted the ground. Inzillomí Elendili moved quietly through the shadows of the awnings, coming in from the stables. From cosseting her black mare, Alya, the mistress of the house had been startled by the sound of pounding hoofbeats. Reaching the house before her unknown guests, Inzillomí went to her sitting room and settled quickly, picking up a piece of embroidery on her way. To a stranger, it would look as though she had been sewing quietly for some time. A fist pounded on the oaken doors, echoing through the large house. She rose gracefully, gliding delicately to the entry way. Meeting a maid in the hallway, she waved her off silently. Opening the heavy doors, she was faced with a full guard of the King's Men. Briefly she wondered where her own guards were, until she saw a flash of silver in the doorway of the stables. One man stepped forward.

"To what do I owe this honor?" Inzillomí asked cautiously. She knew this man; they had been childhood companions. These days, however, it did not pay to trust those you once knew. The uniformed man hesitated as streams of water ran down his cheeks. "Officer, it is raining and my floor is getting wet. Either state your business or come in for a cup of tea, but I will not tolerate the warping of a perfectly good door frame because of carelessness."

The officer nearly laughed, quickly hiding his smile with a well-timed cough. He had been sent to escort the out of favor families to Rómenna but he felt compassion for them. He had known Inzillomí for many years. "Inzi--" he caught himself. Standing up taller, his smile vanished. It was one thing to be compassionate, another to be soft. He had his orders. "Mistress Inzillomí, the King offers you the honor of relocating your family to Rómenna. You will please pack only what you can carry on one horse. You will please be ready in one hour. Your escort will be waiting outside your doors to ensure that you do not lose your way to the front garden."

Hiding her panic, Inzillomí smiled at her childhood friend. Snake! her mind screamed. "No." she replied calmly.

"You must excuse me, Mistress, but I thought I heard you say "no". You are please to be aware that you have no choice."

"I am and I do. I have business today that will not wait, as I am sure you will quite understand. You will have to return tomorrow when my family is all together and prepared. I will not leave without them, and I will not leave my belongings behind. May your day be as peace-filled as my own." With that, Inzillomí politely shut the door in the officers' faces.

Hoping her audacity would not serve to get them all killed, Inzillomí spared a fearful moment wondering at the whereabouts of her family. She peered out the window, seeing the King's Men clustered in a small group. Suddenly the men scattered, mounting up and set off down the road. Short-lived relief filled Inzillomí as the rain slowed. As quickly as the storm had begun, it was over. Within a short time, the sun shone brightly, drying the land. A brisque wind pulled crimson leaves from the trees and Inzillomí, tired and worried, walked alone through her garden admiring the last dark blossoms of the season. Azarmanô was due with tidings from Elendil any hour; Marsillion had gone to meet his cousin; Abârpânarú and Kâthaanî would not be returning. Inzillomí's family was scattered and she was left to lead the remaining Anannost to whatever end. It was her responisibility to get her people safely to the East. Suddenly, heavy hoof beats filled the air once more. Turning quickly on her heel, Inzillomí Elendili ran, skirts billowing in the wind, her hair streaming out behind her, hurrying to meet unexpected visitors for the second time in so many hours.

02-27-2005, 03:48 PM	#174
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	Feanor of the Peredhil's character NAME: Inzillomí Elendili - Flower of the Night; Mórelóte - Dark Flower AGE: 103 RACE: Numenorean GENDER: Female WEAPONS: Carries no visable weapons, such being labeled highly "inappropriate" for a lady, and knowing that a show of arms tends to complicate matters. However, being in a dangerous position, Inzillomí has taken to wearing a wide sash rather than a belt, in which she has tucked two small throwing knives and a highly visable but not particularly ornamental fan with razor tips. The fan's silk is black with pale lotus blossoms; a gift from her father, Elendil. She is highly competent with a staff, can hit the target nine times of ten with a long bow, although she rarely actually uses them. Moving silently in the shadows, an enemy is most likely to never know she was there until it's too late. However, Inzillomí prefers not to kill anyone, so she tends to leave her enemies unconscious and tied up in the woods somewhere. Due to a small vial of pale blue liquid that she carries in her ever convenient sash, these would be attackers rarely remember they were actually attacked by a woman, putting the experience down to bandits. APPEARANCE: Much like a panther, Inzillomí is dark and mysterious. She is long-limbed and slender, but muscular from years of riding and secret arms training in preparation of the day she and her kin would have to fight for their beliefs. Her skin is pale, her grey eyes set off by her shock of black hair that falls in soft waves to her waist. Full crimson lips quick to smile. Soft arms quick to pull you into a comforting hug. Being more comfortable in men's clothing, Inzillomí still understands the importance of looking "proper" by other people's standards and compromises by wearing gowns with fitted bodices, but flared skirts for easy riding. Being less than fond of the high-class style of covering ones legs, but showing a large expanse of one's bosum, Inzillomi has her gowns made with a simple but high neck. Inzillomi is ever the proper lady, at least when people are watching. PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Shares her husband's (Abârpânarú Karíbzîr) love for horses. Adores her husband, loves her daughter. Loves Marsillion as a son and Ziraphel as a sister. She's the type of woman that anyone can go to for anything, and she can solve most problems with no honor lost on any side. She is a rather typical "housekeeper" sort, preferring to do household work herself, but when the hired help complains that they'll soon be out of a job, she meekly retreats to the sidelines. Inzillomí is not the type to sit by and watch others do the work, preferring to do anything she is capable of, which is much. Although Inzillomí tends to be right (and stemming from that, strong-minded), if her husband or her father inform her that she's not, she immediately steps down. Her strengths are mostly her people skills and her strategic mind, but her weaknesses are her love for her family, her horses, and anyone under her watch. She refuses to "sacrifice one for the good of the many", believing that the "many" is nothing without each individual "one". Not remarkably fond of ships. HISTORY: The oft forgotten sister of Isildur and Anárion, Inzillomí had a happy and innocent childhood. Named Flower of the Night for her brilliantly black hair, she was fondly called Mórelóte (Quenya for Dark Flower) by her father Elendil. Growing up in a Faithful household, Inzi knew little else until she was full grown, her father having refrained from informing her. As the only daughter of Elendil, Inzillomí is fluent in Sindarin, with a firm grasp of Quenya. One afternoon while Inzillomí was out riding, a heavy fog rolled in leaving her lost and somewhat nervous. Stumbling, she fell and hurt her ankle. Her horse bolted. Drawn by her cries, Abârpânarú Karíbzîr, riding one of his precious kariborim, came to her aid. Falling in love, they married in 3279. As a young couple, the two lived in a large house just outside of Andunië. Raising the former slave, Tiru, Inzillomí and Abârpânarú taught him their beliefs and came to think of him as part of the family. In 3287, a daughter, Kâthâani, was born. Drawing on her own upbringing and her husband's beliefs, the two taught their beloved Cerveth the old values and passed on their love and trust of the Valar. Inzillomí and Abârpânarú made a point to never discuss their prominence amongst the hidden Faithful with their daughter until she became of an age to understand. In the early 3300s the small household relocated to a smaller home further outside the city where they soon became an important contact point for the Faithful still braving the West. Abârpânarú's sister Ziraphel lived with the family and in 3317 her son Marsillion came to stay. As political tensions heated, Inzillomí urged her husband to send those members of the household who would not be missed by the King's Men east. With word from Elendil expected any day, apprehension rose in the house of Karíbzîr. ----- Feanor of the Peredhil's post The rain poured from the black clouds like so many thousand tears. Lightening lit the tormented sky as another wave shifted the ground. Inzillomí Elendili moved quietly through the shadows of the awnings, coming in from the stables. From cosseting her black mare, Alya, the mistress of the house had been startled by the sound of pounding hoofbeats. Reaching the house before her unknown guests, Inzillomí went to her sitting room and settled quickly, picking up a piece of embroidery on her way. To a stranger, it would look as though she had been sewing quietly for some time. A fist pounded on the oaken doors, echoing through the large house. She rose gracefully, gliding delicately to the entry way. Meeting a maid in the hallway, she waved her off silently. Opening the heavy doors, she was faced with a full guard of the King's Men. Briefly she wondered where her own guards were, until she saw a flash of silver in the doorway of the stables. One man stepped forward. "To what do I owe this honor?" Inzillomí asked cautiously. She knew this man; they had been childhood companions. These days, however, it did not pay to trust those you once knew. The uniformed man hesitated as streams of water ran down his cheeks. "Officer, it is raining and my floor is getting wet. Either state your business or come in for a cup of tea, but I will not tolerate the warping of a perfectly good door frame because of carelessness." The officer nearly laughed, quickly hiding his smile with a well-timed cough. He had been sent to escort the out of favor families to Rómenna but he felt compassion for them. He had known Inzillomí for many years. "Inzi--" he caught himself. Standing up taller, his smile vanished. It was one thing to be compassionate, another to be soft. He had his orders. "Mistress Inzillomí, the King offers you the honor of relocating your family to Rómenna. You will please pack only what you can carry on one horse. You will please be ready in one hour. Your escort will be waiting outside your doors to ensure that you do not lose your way to the front garden." Hiding her panic, Inzillomí smiled at her childhood friend. Snake! her mind screamed. "No." she replied calmly. "You must excuse me, Mistress, but I thought I heard you say "no". You are please to be aware that you have no choice." "I am and I do. I have business today that will not wait, as I am sure you will quite understand. You will have to return tomorrow when my family is all together and prepared. I will not leave without them, and I will not leave my belongings behind. May your day be as peace-filled as my own." With that, Inzillomí politely shut the door in the officers' faces. Hoping her audacity would not serve to get them all killed, Inzillomí spared a fearful moment wondering at the whereabouts of her family. She peered out the window, seeing the King's Men clustered in a small group. Suddenly the men scattered, mounting up and set off down the road. Short-lived relief filled Inzillomí as the rain slowed. As quickly as the storm had begun, it was over. Within a short time, the sun shone brightly, drying the land. A brisque wind pulled crimson leaves from the trees and Inzillomí, tired and worried, walked alone through her garden admiring the last dark blossoms of the season. Azarmanô was due with tidings from Elendil any hour; Marsillion had gone to meet his cousin; Abârpânarú and Kâthaanî would not be returning. Inzillomí's family was scattered and she was left to lead the remaining Anannost to whatever end. It was her responisibility to get her people safely to the East. Suddenly, heavy hoof beats filled the air once more. Turning quickly on her heel, Inzillomí Elendili ran, skirts billowing in the wind, her hair streaming out behind her, hurrying to meet unexpected visitors for the second time in so many hours.