[Manardariel]

Maikafanawen

Name: Dryea Morthaniawen

Age: Early 30's

Race: Corsair

Gender: Female

Appearance: Strikingly beautiful with amber-red hair, hypnotizing blue eyes, and a golden complexion. Dryea is fair and usually wins the favor of many who come to look upon her enchanting smile. She is slender and tall standing no less than 5’8”.

Weapons: Her eloquence and transfixing charm. Dryea Morthaniawen is also equipped with a dagger: standard for the women of her race. It is a beautiful antique carefully crafted and very expensive.

Personality/Weaknesses/Strengths: Dryea speaks well with force or sweetness as the occasion demands, winning others to her side with bold speech. She has a special gift of furtiveness and knows well how to hide herself from unwanted eyes. A cagey character she is both wary and clever. Despite her claims, she also has a fine ear for languages and can speak most of them with ease and fluency. At home among her roguish companions she was known for her honey-tongued ability. Sweet-tongued and deceivingly courteous, she speaks with kindness even when angered, winning favour with words. To others she is appears very open and innocent. Her pretty features and sweet words are very misleading and most often gain her the necessary allies. Among her own kind, and those lesser than she, Dryea is very intimidating. Her weaknesses are what will ultimately lead to her downfall. Dryea is very arrogant, and filled with the hatred for the men who have outcast her people—wrongly, so she believes. Her hatred often clouds her perception and leads her to make reckless mistakes. Usually she is able to cover them. She also has an uncanny knowledge for the concoctions of poisons and draughts.

History: Dryea Morthaniawen grew up with her mother and father and younger sister in scattered coastal cities and towns, learning the art of spying and etiquette to gain high positions in all societies. Her mum taught her to debate with great skill, the art of guise, observation, persuasion, and inquiry. The belief that all gondorians are their enemies was branded into her mind at a young age and supported by the fact that her people were driven further and further from their ‘rightful’ lands—which of course were never theirs to begin with. Dryea has devoted her life to claim much, if not all, of Gondor for the corsairs.
Her mother before her was a spy in the citadel of Ecthelion and is well liked by the court. Now she has given over the title to her daughter who is trying to gain the same trust her mother had. Everything goes as planned until Finduilas, the future Lady of Minas Tirith comes from Dol Amroth, the very city Dryea and her sister, friends, and mother claim to be from. The court grows tense and Dryea must find a way to send Finduilas and her posse back home before she is discovered.

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Maikafanawen's post

Dryea Morthaniawen stood in front of the full-length mahogany mirror in her bedchamber, studying her elegant ensemble. Her amber hair was piled on top of her head in elaborate curls and held in place by decorative pins. Her dress was of crimson velour with a seven-inch wide strip of embroidered flowers on cream velour running down the front. Darts on the left and right fronts of the bodice gave it a shapely look and enhanced her exotic figure. The sleeves were snug and ran gracefully down the entire length of each arm, stopping at a point above each delicate hand.

“Exquisite,” said her mother, coming up behind her, dressed equally as ravishing in dark blue velour. She dismissed the maids with a polite nod and smooth out a slight wrinkle on the sleeve. “What about jewelry?” she asked. Dryea glided over to her vanity and chose a long gold chain from which hung a beautiful medallion. The medallion was inlaid with sapphires and was of a fine ship, with tall masts and billowing sails, representing Dol Amroth. The lady also chose a delicate array of bangles that she slid onto her wrist. Taking another look in the mirror, she was satisfied with the view.

“Splendid.” Then the daughter did something unexpected for a lady. She opened a secret drawer in her vanity and withdrew a dagger of unique make and tucked it into a fold in her dress. Her mother didn’t blink an eye for she too held such a weapon. But these noblewomen of Minas Tirith were not at all as they appeared.

Sent here years ago, the mother was a spy from the corsairs whose stronghold lay at Umbar: a city in Harad. For many years the sea-faring men had been looting merchant ships and living off their plunder. Dryea had been raised knowing only what her mother had taught her. So she had believed that her deeds were noble and for the good of her people. However, now as she grew older, and with age came wisdom, she realized that her actions were nothing short of vengeful. But she didn’t change her ways. She thought only of power. And the day when she would rule Gondor and the corsairs would rule the seas yet again. That thought always brought a wicked smile to her magnificent face.

Soon they were joined by Dryea’s younger sister, Alethea. Together, the three of them walked down their corridor length and down the stairwell to the hall where they were being introduced to Lady Finduilas of Dol Amroth, and future Lady of Minas Tirith. This may or may not impose a threat to Dryea and her mother’s plans. If she turns out to be easily susceptible to her charm, she could prove to be an important ally. If not. . .

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” her mother had said unsteadily as she nodded greeting to guards as they were permitted to enter the hall. It was beautifully decorated with tapestries that hung from the ceiling and were carefully woven with portraits of past kings and stewards of Gondor. Dryea walked down the length of carpet, following the other ladies of the court, until she stopped in front of Finduilas. She was just as, if not more, stunning in appearance than Dryea. The lady looked very confident, although, thought Dryea thinking back to the first time she had come to the citadel, she must be very nervous. She bowed her head slightly in due respect and gave her a reassuring motherly smile and a wink. Finduilas seemed to relax a bit at Dryea’s friendliness and continued greeting the court.

Dryea Morthaniawen then took her place beside her friends of Minas Tirith and watched the procession closely, taking in all the new faces and their unique characteristics whether it be fan-waving, eye-batting, or a slight hop to their walk. Dryea knew almost everything to be known about each member of the court. Soon, she would also know about this Finduilas of Dol Amroth!

[ June 11, 2003: Message edited by: Manardariel ]

[ June 11, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]