Elf Archer

Minaethiel Ellethwen's page

35 posts. Alias of Lane Ellen.


Full Name

Minaethiel Siladhiel Ellethwen

Race

Elf (Tuathan)

Classes/Levels

Druid 1, Ranger 2, Sorceror 12

Gender

Female

Size

Medium

Age

152

Alignment

NG

Location

The Known World

Languages

Elven, Druidic, Orc, Celestial, Draconic, Undercommon, Goblin, Telestari

Occupation

Princess, Queen,

Strength 14
Dexterity 20
Constitution 12
Intelligence 18
Wisdom 18
Charisma 18

About Minaethiel Ellethwen

Minaethiel Ellethwen is every stereotype one can imagine of an elven princess: strikingly beautiful, passionate, cultured, brilliant polymath, artistic, skilled fighter, sensitive to the flow of legend, vociferous defender of the Tuathan people and their lands, the blood of gods running in her veins, the focus of several prophecies, well-intentioned, courteous, and loyal.

So how does one deal with that in reality?

You're a princess, the heir to the throne of an ancient race. You've got responsibility and duty unlike mortals can imagine. You will spend hundreds of years being cultivated for this purpose - to rise to the throne and continue the line as expected, protect their secrets and their land. You will marry appropriately, you will have children, and you will lead your people into the next age. Thousands of elves have placed their hopes in you, and their memories are long. Eternal, even.

As part of their hope is the purity of the race, the equality of elves. However, half elves are a reality that cannot be ignored, and are not welcomed within the homelands. A separation is maintained that wounds future generations - but this is the only world you have known.

Love takes on new meaning amid the elves, who experience callings to people, to things, in ways that humans cannot understand, yet adds complications to even the simplest of interests. And when you are heir to the throne, there are layers of burden that press even the slightest hint of romance to its breaking point.

You are the scion of a god's interference in your family line, developing a power of sorcery deemed unfit for Tuathans. Wizardry is accepted, sorcery is impurity. You are a source of wild magic - nature and arcane mingling together. And you must choose one.

You have been marked, also, by a long dead race seeking the source of wild magic in the land. You are a walking gateway. Your presence in your homeland could be their downfall. In fact, it could be why they sent you away - something not done with the heir of the throne in the memories of the elves.

So too have you found yourself a part of a greater political game between the gods and the ancient races. Prophecies rise up, clouding your vision. You have been crowned the Queen of Light, and the darkfolk recognize you as their hope for salvation from centuries of slavery by the good people.

But you /are/ the good people, aren't you?

The ancient enmity between good and evil has made you a pawn, and you've never been told about the wild realities of the world, about a whole other race of elves. About the webs spun around you by beings greater than the gods. This training would have come over centuries, inheriting a kingdom that runs like a machine with ancient protections.

So when you are thrust into experiencing this harsh world suddenly, alone, what do you do? You are unlike any who have come before you, both the hope and the threat to your people. Yet you have lived many lives already, you are learning.

There are secrets deeper that you can imagine, traps and political machinations laid carefully over a span of time is like unto merely a year to the eternal races. You have no guide, no teacher, for they are all bound by promises that run as deep as the leylines.

Go. Go into the world and face everything you cannot know.