K, this is a sort of personal type thing for my character, Maihele, who has a habit of encouraging others to seek hope and light, while she herself dwells in the world between death and life, in order to reach darkened souls and help them to leave their world of darkness and find the world of light. She also chases a sorcerer wherever he leads, and intercepts his dark ways when possible. If an adventure happens to pop up along the way, so be it. For now it starts in a random woods by a random lake, and if one of you who join wishes it to be in a certain place, you may make a suggestion ^^ Cruel characters, lost ones, and kind ones alike are all welcome!
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The rules:

1. (Most likely the most important) No drastic powers, such as healing,
conjuring elements, and teleporting. I want this to be as natural as
possible. You can have skills, such as good fighting abilities, and you
can be skilled at tending wounds and such, but nothing drastic.

2. No powerplaying without permission, since this may come off as rude to
some people, and thus create an awkward RP. Powerplaying or GodModding is when you create actions and reactions for your fellow RP'ers and you post them as your post without permission from them personally. Basically GodModding is also when you try to take over the RP and make it focus on you and your situation without permission from the creator of the RP.

3. If you join this RP late, please read the whole thread before posting.
It will cut down on confusion.

4. Last, but not least, give everyone a fair chance to participate. I know
things get out of hand and we all have a hard time with concidering
everyone, but we can at least try.


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My Character(edited):

Name: Maihele Ali'Bealathavain

Translation: Death-Tears, Shadow Guardian of [the] Spirit

Race: Dark-Elf

Title: Death's Guard/Death's Hand/Death Hunter

Age: Ageless, or unknown

Appearance: Pale complexion, nearly white, with slender features and a porceline doll-like facial appearance, though mature and fair. Raven black hair, layered and shoulder length, a lot of the times drifting over half her face, greatly contrasting her near white skin. Eyes of a deep color, glimmering like black pearls, though the iris at times flickers with an amethyst glow when caught by a certain light.

Personality: Quiet mostly, and cold, seeming without feeling, harsh in words at many times and vicious, without emotion. Sly in actions, like a cat, and cautious and complex in her wording, in attempt to instill confusion and intimidation.

Attire: Black tunic and pants, slim to her figure, with nearly knee high black boots, all in a matte finish, for concealment. Wears a large, well covering, black cloak, able to blend with shadows. Occasionally wears gloves, since her hands are so pale.

Weapons: An elegant black bow, with grey shafted, black fletched arrows. Two sais, their hilts black in color, with a silver glint in the edges of the bindings, the blades of a silver color, but with black runes deeply engraved on the surface of the deadly metal.

Other: A marking running down the full length of her right arm, that of entwined vines, twined around two black sais, point towards eachother, lengthways down her arm, along with runes of an ancient and lost tongue.

History: Maihele knew not where she was born, nor had she known her age, all that dwelt in her memory was being raised by a dark-elf sorcerer, and trained in the deadly dark arts he was devoted to. She had always refused to treat him as a father, for deep within was the feeling she had not belonged, and thus she knew him only as Firbrar.

The name meant Dark Crafter, and the sorcerer held little to none emotion within him and it was his claim that he held a realm of his own with black colors as his banner though his tale was that it had fallen into ruin and existed far beyond the Northern regions. Firbrar described these lands to her as desolate forests and abandoned fields, a land where many a sorcerer was born to. He had called himself Death, and took joy in slaying the innocent in cruel ways, as though it were the sight of blood he survived on.

Maihele at first refused to be taught by him, but soon learned it would prove painful to go against his word and orders. She had been a malnurished girl, pale to look upon, with a face striken by sadness, but she grew in strength and grace despite the beatings and starving, for Firbrar's training was ruthless and uncaring.

As Maihele aged in years, Firbrar discovered a cold way about her, and built upon it with his own influence, but Maihele was not fully turned by his dark ways. She had weakness of emotion still, and fell in love with a man who began to show care toward her, even when he heard what sort of being she was under apprenticeship of. It was by his convincing that she made the decision to leave. She escaped Firbrar when chance was given, married the mortal, and began to raise a family.

Firbrar, however, was furious at her decision and went in search of her, the betrayal proving fatal for Maihele’s husband, and even her two children. Maihele was furious, and she herself faced Firbrar, but was severely wounded in the battle that ensued. However, the dark sorcerer needed and wanted her, and returned her to health, but kept her under his influence, her existence becoming a life of pain and confusion, until she learned how to hide emotion.

Maihele rebelled against Firbrar once again, and sought to keep death from many who would surely be welcomed by their earthen graves by the cruel being who played the part of the reaper for his own amusement. Firbrar hunted her, and ran from her at the same time, a rule being whoever came between her and the dark sorcerer would die by his hand. It became a lonely life, and she grew more bitter and cold as the years wore on, a cold beauty dwelling as her presence. She remained on her path of chasing Firbrar, taking the title of “Death Hunter” intercepting Firbrar whenever he attempted to reach his hand out to grasp a soul undeserving of death, but never once was she able to catch the sorcerer himself.

Firbrar enjoyed the games of cat and mouse, and would even tell her, by way of written notes, who his next victim would be and where she would find them, just to enjoy seeing her attempt at saving those he went after. Several times Maihele found herself accused and sought after for the deaths she failed to prevent, for she was seen shortly after it happened, and the rumors spoken of her were cruel and heartless, but she had a task, and she continued it, even if she could not gain trust.


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A lady, tall, thin, dressed in black attire from head to toe, stood by the edge of a clear lake, the sunlight just barely cresting the farthest hills. This same sunlight touched her pallid skin, seeming rejected by her near white complexion. Raven black hair was cast about her shoulders, ending just above them, the layers tossed by the gentle breeze. Her eyes searched her surroundings diligently, glimmering for a moment with a faint amethyst glow, though they returned to their dark color when she lowered her delicate brows to shadow their depths from the rising sun.

There was a strange yet deadly beauty about her, as though she were flawless, yet so pale and cold, almost seeming untouchable. Her fair face set off an ivory glow, no color save for her dark lashes, brows, and her pale lips graced her features. No expression formed to her, though when it did, it was brief, as though she inwardly feared to show emotions of any kind.

Bending down with numb gracefullness, she lifted from the ground a fallen rose, stroking the strangely black petals with her free hand, as her face took on an unlikely expression of saddened remembrance. Maihele's eyes slowly opened once more, after having been closed, finding she has crushed the black rose in an iron grasp of her white hand, long dark lashes dampened with tears. Dropping the mutilated flower, she turned to examine her suroundings, her highly attuned hearing catching sounds of a faint step.

(Join on in ^^ )

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I am a pro-cycling fan! Congrats to the Young rider of the Tour de France!
~Cyclist in Training~

Name : Rhavaniel
Race: High Elf
Age: N/A
Gender: Female
Hair: raven black
Eyes: a deep tone of green speckeled with bright gold
Looks:
Very pale and very tall. A wonderful figure and slim toned limbs.
Other to 'Appearance' : wears a gold collar around her neck, as a sign of slavery. The gold shows she is a) worth a lot to her owner and b) her owner is very rich.

Powers : If any, that of tracking silently
Weapon:
A beautiful black bow with an intercate silver pattern of vines on it. The arrows are long and have black swann feathers. The quiver is also black with the silver silver outlines of
a dragon on.
Other to 'Weapons' : Her weapons are the only remanents of her past.


Personality: Proud, gentel (usually), sad, thoughtfull
History : Is forbidden by her master to speak of it.
Other to 'Other' : none

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. O r b i s N o n S u f f i c i t .

(o.o My goodness do you join every RP with the same character? lol. Welcome ^^)

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I am a pro-cycling fan! Congrats to the Young rider of the Tour de France!
~Cyclist in Training~

(*pokes Silm* may I?) <br>
Bio Link: http://arwen-undomiel.com/forum/viewtop ... 83&start=0<br>

(still thinking of a way to come in..brainstorming!)

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Eomira, Lady of Ithilien<br>
<img src="http://i26.photobucket.com/albums/c116/Eomira/faramir_alone.jpg" border="0" alt="Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket">

(^^ sure, of course you may join.... and ya'll remember.... she heard footsteps....)

_________________


I am a pro-cycling fan! Congrats to the Young rider of the Tour de France!
~Cyclist in Training~

(footsteps...hmmm...*thinks*)

_________________
Eomira, Lady of Ithilien<br>
<img src="http://i26.photobucket.com/albums/c116/Eomira/faramir_alone.jpg" border="0" alt="Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket">

((Well...Ummm.... I can never be bothered to write another bio... ^^ Actually I've just had an idea... I'll see if I can manage to typoe it out then edit my bio for ya *hehe*))

Rhan stood stilll, nimble fingers playing with the bowstring of the elegant black bow. Her master- a large ugly man from Edoras gave her a strange look "What is it?"he snapped eagerly.
The elf shot him a glance and moved forwards , feet making hardly any sound on the ground.
"I said, WHAT IS IT?!"
She cringed at the loudness of his voice "It may be nothing, but I think-"
The man grabbed her arm and backhanded her sharply "I didnt teach you to think, did I my pretty? I taught you to be sure!" he let go of the stunned elf, who placed her hands together as if in prayer
"I'm sorry master..." her voice held a proud bitterness, as if maybe once she had been in high-standings. Back then, in her own lands...
"Go and check!" he bellowed, raising his hand threateningly.
She scurried off, head bent, towards the lake.

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. O r b i s N o n S u f f i c i t .

[edit: okay...Take a look ^^]

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. O r b i s N o n S u f f i c i t .

(AH!! Eomira's half Rohhirrim!! ooo!!! tension!)

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Eomira, Lady of Ithilien<br>
<img src="http://i26.photobucket.com/albums/c116/Eomira/faramir_alone.jpg" border="0" alt="Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket">

Maihele suddenly hissed quietly, noticing clearly the tread of an elf. They were said to be silent, but one cursed to roam as a being of the realm between could feel even a tremor in the ground from the lightest step and thus was Maihele alarmed to the approach. A voice was there as well, dark, cruel, one which she somehow instantly despised.

Maihele strung her exquisitely designed black bow with uttmost silence. A rose, seeming to have been melted and colored to the wood, decorated the slim, strong upper limb somewhat above the arrow rest. Cautiously she nocked to her string a grey shafted, black fletched arrow, dimly painted gold spirals adorning the straight wood. As she lightly drew back on the taught string, her sleeve slipped back to reveal the black markings running along her right arm, so contrasting to her pale skin. Black gloves now concealed the pale glow of her slender yet strong hands as she awaited the approach of the lightly stepping elf.

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I am a pro-cycling fan! Congrats to the Young rider of the Tour de France!
~Cyclist in Training~

Rhavaniel stood still as soon as she was out of eyesight of her master, and fell to her knees, touching her split lp tenderly. Tears trickeled down her cheek and mingeled with the blood, dripping down her pale skin. After a few deep breaths, she stood up, and straightend her grey/green tunic. Silently she nocked an arrow and drew it taught, walking forward carefully. She half hoped the man or beast that she was aiming for, would kill her first.
The elf broke free from the cover of the trees, and let the arrow fly at a tall figure right by the lake.

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. O r b i s N o n S u f f i c i t .

Maihele noticed in an instant the arrow, and bent sideways to avoid the fair aim. Crouching with a deft elegance, she drew her string back the full length and let the grey shafted arrow fly. The skillful aimed split the bow in the elf's hand. The dark-elf stood, her emotionless expression forming a slight smirk, almost devious, cruel, but again it faded. She had not the heart to come off as cruel, nor had she one to come off as kind and caring. Swiftly nocking a second arrow to her string, she paced over and slipped around the elf, looking her up and down.

"Who are you? And who follows you? Seems you and he who follows do not get along so well...? There is fresh blood on your lip..." her dark eyes flitted over the elf with a peircing gaze.

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I am a pro-cycling fan! Congrats to the Young rider of the Tour de France!
~Cyclist in Training~

Tears leaked into the elf's shimmering eyes as she clutched the remmanants of her bow. She bit her lip, then winced as more blood dripped out, clutching the bow tighter, she fell to her knees, cradeling the last reminder of who she was. She opend her mouth, but no words came out, and she drew herself together, so that her frail form seemed all the smaller.

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. O r b i s N o n S u f f i c i t .

Maihele's expression remained unchanged, but she put aside her bow and arrow and crouched beside the young elf, seeming so helpess and distraught. "Why do you cower? What brings you to have such fear and dread in your eyes? There is more to you than a bow with which you would have killed me ...." She questioned then stated quietly, though strangely there was no care in her voice, more or less a matter of fact tone.

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I am a pro-cycling fan! Congrats to the Young rider of the Tour de France!
~Cyclist in Training~

Rhavaniel flinched at the tone of her voice, and scrambeled up and away from the Shadowelf, shaking her head scared.

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. O r b i s N o n S u f f i c i t .

Maihele's crouched form leaned forward, as she set a gloved hand to the ground and pushed herself to her feet.

"Who is with you?" she again posed a quiet question, her keen gaze focused on the elf. "If you do not tell me I'm sure we can just sit here and wait for your companion to arrive and ask for you to be returned," she stated slyly, gesturing with a delicate motion of her hand towards a fallen log behind the young elf while she herself moved forward casually, deftly, with deliberate unerving calmness.

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I am a pro-cycling fan! Congrats to the Young rider of the Tour de France!
~Cyclist in Training~