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Author Topic: [Hobbit + LotR] Alvelin  (Read 177 times)


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« on: April 05, 2020, 02:23:37 PM »


NAME: Alvelin ("Elmsong")
NICKNAMES: Ava [ey-vuh], Alvy
          ■ 263 years old (as of T.A. 2941 "the Hobbit")
          ■ 341 years old (as of T.A. 3019 "the LotR")
GENDER: Female

HAIR COLOUR AND APPEARANCE: Chestnut brown, silky straight. Alvelin cuts it to her shoulders every so often, letting it grow out to her mid-back/waist before cutting it again. She'll wear it in a variety of styles - ponytail, braid, bun, half-up, loose - depending on the day's activities. Mingling with other races, she'll adjust her hair accordingly to blend in with the people she's around, even covering up her ears with it to avoid detection if needed.

EYE COLOUR: Amber-brown

BODY TYPE AND HEIGHT: Slender build with softly toned muscle. Stands 5'9" (1.75 m).

OVERALL APPEARANCE: Likewise in the manner she wears her hair, Alvelin's wardrobe changes depending on the people she's with, adjusting her clothing to blend in with the races of each culture she encounters. She prefers to dress up as a commoner, favoring something plain but not too shabby. Her traveler's wardrobe mainly consists of earthen colored tunics, leggings, cloaks, and boots for mobility and camouflage with the terrain. Lounging in a settlement, she'll opt to wear a simple skirt or dress that's easy to slip on.

DISTINGUISHING MARKS: Flawless fair skin, without birthmarks or blemishes. Her pointed ears mark her race unmistakably.

WEAPONS: As well as  her hair and clothing, her range of weapons changes frequently, depending on what she finds on the road with each new settlement she comes across. Naturally, Alvelin is most comfortable with the bow, preferring long-range over melee. But when arrows are not a luxury, she'll rely on anything metal to get the job done - daggers, light swords, hatchets, pots and pans - whatever she might have on hand as backup.

FACE CLAIM: Anastasia Cebulska

STRENGTHS: Alvelin has lightness of foot, and sharper senses and reflexes compared to the average Man, relying on agility and stealth to outmaneuver and ambush her target.  Archery is an innate skill she's proficient in, whether it be on foot or on horseback. Traveling through Middle-earth, Alvelin has gained a base of knowledge from the people and regions she's encountered - cultures, languages, weapons, survival skills - making it easy for her to adjust and settle just about anywhere, though she prefers not to stay in one place for too long.

WEAKNESSES: Against a much larger, muscular foe, Alvelin has difficulty holding her own in a battle of strength without using agility to her advantage. It is the reason why she prefers the long range of a bow, rather than face an opponent in hand-to-hand combat.  She isn't fond of wearing armor (unless if there's mithril lying around), all the more exposing her flesh to being pierced through the thin fabric that covers it.  Her youth and immaturity shine through lack of wisdom, tact, and sophistication, most of which have to do with the length of time she's spent among mortals, reflecting their mannerisms which have gradually turned her more "Man" than Elf over the years.  Essentially, mortals are her drug, one that keeps Alvelin coming back for more, and one that she will die to protect.  For without them, the world would be a very dull place, in her eyes.

ASPIRATIONS: To explore Middle-earth, make sense of the world, and help those in need along the way.  One day, she would like to go to Harad, and Forodwaith and Rhun, and venture into regions unknown.  Also on her bucket list, she would like to meet a dragon and an eagle and take a flight on its back.

FEARS: Losing her identity, her sense of self and purpose. Losing her sanity over time, with the passing of ages. Death is always a looming concern, and Alvelin takes precaution to avoid an early one for herself and others, if possible.

PERSONALITY: Alvelin extends her friendly nature, helping hand, and compassion to all races and peoples alike, and enjoys bringing comfort and aid to those in need. Even after centuries, she hasn't lost her childlike sense of wonder and playfulness, relishing life's simple pleasures. Her focus on optimism - blind and unyielding at times - often masks her own insecurities and sorrows that feed into her reclusive side. One that drives Alvelin to be a nomad in the wilderness.  Not only does it allow her to find spiritual healing in nature while wandering the road, it grants her emotional distance as well, preferring not to foster too much attachment to those she leaves behind. 

HISTORY: The apple didn't fall far from the tree, in Alvelin's case. Both of her parents were travelers in their youth, venturing far and wide throughout Middle-earth. Only when Ranamir and Anariel were considerably older, when they finally had their fill of the world, did they retire to Lindon to achieve one last journey together.  Parenthood.  Thus their only child was born, named after the many elm trees that grew in the region - "Land of Singers". Lively and carefree, she was the light of her parents' waning lives, which they cherished together in bliss.  Alvelin gleaned as much as she could of her parents' travels through their countless stories, but Ranamir and Anariel were careful not spoil their restless daughter with too much, hinting that she would have to discover those secrets for herself one day. . . A day that came all too swiftly, when Alvelin -at one hundred years old- waved her farewell from the harbor, watching her parents sail over the waters to Valinor.  Saddling her mount, Alvelin embarked on her own travels shortly afterward (circa T.A. 2778), aiming to tour a little bit of everything Middle-earth had to offer her before uniting with her family across the Sea. . .
And so, she frequently travels the North-South road, from Bree to Edoras, occasionally returning to Lindon to visit kin and replace her mount with one of their fine horses of Elven stock. Although her relatives would gladly open their homes for her to stay, Alvelin remains on the road, carrying what little possessions she has with her on her back, in a saddlebag, or in a wagon.  Usually she travels with caravans, tagging along with groups for company and protection. Other times she braves it solo, but it is undoubtedly more dangerous and nerve-wracking for her, especially in areas where dark creatures lurk.  She'll take on any odd job to meet her needs, whether financially or simply to keep herself busy. Anything left over from her earnings, whether it be coin or other items of value, Alvelin gives away as much as she can to charity before departing from one place to another, having no interest in wealth or material gain. T'would only attract robbers anyway and add weight to slow her down.
She's had 'flirtations' in the past, but it would take a special (im)mortal to make her commit to that kind of relationship.  As of T.A. 2940, she's raised six children of Men, orphans adopted from poverty and liberated elsewhere along her travels.  She savored every moment with them that she could.  All of them eventually grew up and parted ways when they reached adulthood, if not reluctantly at their mother's behest, forcing them to leave. For her own sanity, to spare herself from grief, Alvelin knew she could not watch her mortal children grow old and die. Nor did she have anything more to do with them and their fates, once she sent them away.  For closure, she believes all of them to be dead at this point - old age, battle, or otherwise.

AGE: 24
EXPERIENCE:  2 years. First time tackling a LotR roleplay though, so forgive me if my lore knowledge lacketh.
CONTACT: PM or Discord
HOW DID YOU FIND US?: Google search
ROLE PLAY/WRITING SAMPLE: (Latest from my Harry Potter roleplay)
Returning from Transfiguration, Andrew entered the Common Room, quietly reciting the list of incantations of spells he had been taught earlier that day. Although the class was notoriously difficult, Andrew had to admit Transfiguration was his favorite in terms of awe-inspiring, being able to turn something into something else. That was true magic for him right there. Although, once it became available to him next year, Care of Magical Creatures was the class Andrew looked most forward to, certainly to become his new favorite.

After a mental load of lecture, Andrew was ready to unwind for a break.

"Hi, Tyr," he replied, approaching where Tyranni sat. "Ugh, hate April Fools'," he muttered jokingly. Pulling out a paper cut out fish from his robe pocket, he unfolded it for Tyranni to look at. "Someone stuck this on my back when I wasn't looking." He chuckled. It was a pretty innocent prank, compared to what most students were able to do with their wands. "Well, better than my last year went in the Abandoned Toilets," he let slip the remark. Fortunately he was a second year now. It was mainly bad for the first years, that some of the older years would try and prank them twice as hard—Muggle-borns, especially—turning April Fool's into a nightmare.

Setting his bookbag down with relief, he plopped into the cushy armchair beside Tyranni, letting his sore feet rest after the hundreds of stairs he had climbed to and back from Transfiguration.

"And you? How's your day been? Just got done with Transfiguration," he reported, rubbing a hand over his tired forehead.

« Last Edit: May 20, 2020, 03:48:24 AM by Estë »

Dialogue: Mannish | Sindarin | Quenya


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Re: Alvelin
« Reply #1 on: April 06, 2020, 03:00:46 AM »
Ready as I'll ever be for review!

Dialogue: Mannish | Sindarin | Quenya


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Re: Alvelin
« Reply #2 on: April 06, 2020, 02:52:43 PM »


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