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Author Topic: [Hobbit] Silfe  (Read 180 times)


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« on: July 21, 2020, 09:30:25 PM »


NAME:Silfe (sill-fey)
NICKNAMES: Witchling, Silf (Westron pronunciation)
TRILOGY:  Hobbit
DATE OF BIRTH AND AGE (AS OF T.A. 2941/3019) 2922, 19 years old.
PLACE OF BIRTH: Gondor, The White Mountains.
RACE: Human

HAIR COLOUR AND APPEARANCE: Black and tightly cut to her scalp. What length there is is messy, unkempt and unadorned.
EYE COLOUR:Pale gold
BODY TYPE AND HEIGHT: Silfe stands at 5’0”, athletic, diminutive and svelte.

OVERALL APPEARANCE:There’s not much but lean muscle and long limbs as you’d find in most gangly adolescents, giving an air of a hare, awkward but alert. Swaths of earthy toned fabrics and leather adorn this slender creature, belted and tied into place tightly to allow freedom of movement. The odd bit of metal has been implemented to embellish the drab ensemble, from a half sort of gauntlet made of a shiny, silver metal to the odd, magnetic rings that adorn both wrists and ankles. It is a mismatch of many different concepts thrown together to make one whole piece that could be called whimsical. Lending to the belief that no real understanding of practicality was put into how the outfit as a whole was constructed.

DISTINGUISHING MARKS: Silfe is wholly unremarkable in that she doesn't possess scars or modifications. A decent cloak and hood would conceal all that makes her unique. Her eyes, are large and expressive, that boast a unnatural color that seems to shift like dripping honey depending on the light and the countenance of her face.

WEAPONS: A thick, 4' long bo staff made from some sort of black maire wood. While the handle is grooved, gnarled and twisted, the texture transitions to a smooth polish that wicks into a smooth, geometrically square shape. It is balanced, heavy and intimidating when used for acrobatic feats of combat, the polished end is weighted or simply denser than the rest of the naturally formed wood.

FACE CLAIM: AURORA for voice claim


Sharp witted: Beyond her impressive knowledge of the natural world, Silfe is clever and smart. Learning quickly and with a fervor most scholars would deem obsessive. She’s dedicated her short life to the pursuit of knowledge and in doing so has honed a mind predisposed to resourcefulness and quick, out of the box problem solving.

Athletic: Having spent her life in the wilds of Gondor and its White Mountains, Silfe has developed her body naturally—by running, walking, climbing and swimming across the vastness of Middle Earth. She is quick of foot, and acrobatic in combat, it is better to be evasive and clever rather than brash and forceful when one is so small.

Knowledgeable: Silfe earned the moniker of Witchling from more than just her peculiar mannerisms and uncanny ability to be where she’s least expected, it also stems from her practical and in depth knowledge of flora and fauna. She knows practical spoken spells that seem to augment the healing properties of plants, as well as the dangerous nature of toxic plants or dangerous beasts be they natural of unnatural. She’s a hedge witch by vocation and has actively traded her services and knowledge for something as simple as a recipe or as complex as lessons on smithing or gem work.

Naive: Silfe may be well versed in the natural world, but the ways and cultures of the people’s of Middle-Earth are all but unknown to her. What she has gleaned from her minimal interactions has been insightful and she wishes to know more, but she’s predisposed to being misled or even used by others with a mind for doing so. There’s a lot she doesn’t know about societal norms and it’s obvious in her peculiar behavior and lack of etiquette.

Fearlessly Curious: In her quest for knowledge, Silfe doesn’t possess a healthy sense of caution for the more dangerous beasts and peoples. She’d actually seek them out if it seemed she might be able to learn something new from them, and it’s her solitary and isolated upbringing that has found her without these dangerous encounters. Orcs, goblins, wargs and the more wild elven folk are just as easy to approach in Silfe’s mind as man, dwarf or elf. As she seeks out more and more interactions with people, this lack of self preservation might change.

Small: physically, Silfe is very petite, her height is laughable and it is unlikely she’ll ever grow more. Her body is thin and built for speed and feats of acrobatics, not true brutal combat, faced with a confrontation it is very likely she will be subdued by anything with decent training and muscle.

ASPIRATIONS:  Silfe is a creature of ravenous curiosity, having been raised with a sense of openness and wonder, there isn’t a lot that she finds too repugnant to learn about. What she doesn’t know she wants to learn—Languages, foods, medicine, combat and cultural traditions—-all things that if given the chance Silfe would pursue. More than anything, she wants the vast knowledge of nature at her finger tips, it’s a world she’s familiar with as she was raised in the wilds, but still she knows so very little.
FEARS: A wild and free spirit, Silfe has trouble in very confined spaces but if she was curious enough she'd endure it for the sake of discovery. She has a strange fear of sicknesses and weakening of the mind, losing her own mind is something she cant even fathom and it fills her with a terrible dread. 

PERSONALITY:  Silfe is the product of her upbringing, which was one of isolation, self betterment and safety. She’s friendly but odd, forgoing a lot of social norms and even manners in favor of her own capricious whims. She holds individuals or small groups to a proven flaw but does not hold any blanket statement about a race to the entirety of a people. She’d treat a dwarf the same as an orc, a man as an elf and so on and so forth—until that individual proves that they can or cannot be trusted. This often finds her in the company of those who might not be considered safe or honorable, but that matters very little to her. Silfe is driven by instinct and her desire to learn and this will lead her any which way her whimsy takes her. She’s young and eager, friendly and extroverted, wanting very much to know more about a person, place or thing.

HISTORY:  To know the story of Silfe is to know the story of her Mother, Myrla. Myrla was of the Dúnedain and had dedicated her young life to the path of a botanical healer, having a knack for growing and cultivating beautiful, and useful, plants that bettered her immediate family as well as the villages around her. Myrla would ride out often to the smaller hamlets around Langstrand to offer aid and supplies.

The more she did so the less she stayed with her noble family, which claimed to possess an above average connection to Númenorean bloodlines, and thus expected her to act as a proper match to whichever Gondorian noble wanted to unite their houses. Myrla never felt peace at being a political bargaining chip.

She had too much of the earth within her, too much wind and freedom in her heart and forewent all those niceties and political benefits in favor of dedicating herself fully to the people around her. She settled in obscurity, far from the world of nobles and politics, instead entrenching herself within the wilds. Myrla knew the lands, knew the people and was held in good standing with many of the smaller settlements across northern Gondor. She was affectionately labeled the ‘Pinnath Witch’ by the people who dwelled along the feet of the White Mountains

It was not until the later years of her life, where Myrla encountered a Rider of Rohan during one of her pilgrimages up to Fangorn Forest, that the desire for intrigue and romance grew in her heart. The kind rider had been injured  through a simple trick of the land that saw both him and his mount tumbling into a shallow ravine. Myrla found both beast and rider by chance and as is her nature, tended to them without thought. The rider was named Silfenor, and his eyes were kind and his smile warm. Myrla thought that if she’d ever been presented a potential match like him she might not have abandoned her former life of privilege.

They spent four seasons together, their love was genteel and full of regard, meeting its twilight like fireworks at the end of summer—bright and beautiful but over far too quickly. He left her to return to Rohan, wayward for far too long, but with her he left a piece of himself. It was not long that Myrla discovered she was with child and she found in motherhood a new side of herself.
It was an easy task to name her daughter, born during a lively and fragrant Spring, after the kind rider she’d known. Silfe’s life was with very little struggle, being raised amongst her mother’s flowers, learning and living alongside nature, animals but rarely people. As she grew, her voracious appetites for learning, her love and interest in people, had Silfe following on her kindly mothers footsteps. She wanted to seek out others, have adventure and newness every chance she got. Myrla at first was reluctant to allow it, the world was growing dangerous and the wilds were changing as were the people. But she could not in her heart deny Silfe what she herself claimed for her own many years before. With a heavy sense of worry, but a love and proudness for her daughter—Myrla sent Silfe forward into the world with a promise that returning home was forever open to her.
YOUR NAME: Eddie or Ronnie.
AGE: 31 years old.
COUNTRY: United States
EXPERIENCE: I've been writing and roleplaying for about twenty years! I know, I'm old as dirt!
OTHER CHARACTERS: None in this fandom.
CONTACT: Discord is best! You can find me on the site server!
HOW DID YOU FIND US?: Google search for Hobbit RPG forums!

The forest sang and swayed with the slowly rousing day. Even as the chill of the previous night clung to the soil and stone; a claustrophobic heat coated everything in oppressive humidity. The very air was like syrup, filling the lungs like a dense broth.

It held none of the arid charm of the village, and in that regard; Siri was grateful.

The Temple itself was ancient sat on the edge of a modest forest, it was little more than a ruin now but the main hall that served as a monastery stood tall and proud. It boasted a large lake, that had once been an in-ground arena used for a purpose no one of the current Era knew. The water within was clear, and various fallen stones and plant life could be seen clearly.

It was here that Siri Vodjya had seated herself. Cross legged, the young Dathomirian had placed herself before a crumbling archway that lead further into the overgrown compound. Staring out at the water, Siri allowed the sway of the world around her to influence the sifting thoughts running through her head. She was excited, but betrayed none of it outwardly.

From the South, a vast field of sparse shrubbery and grass stretched for miles; and from this came Sister Ichus. Siri turned her head, her headdress obscuring her own features while her Sister had opted not to dawn her own. Dark hair swept over a damp brow as the older Dathomirian had scouted out to make sure they would not be interrupted by any wildlife, and most likely to check an unobscured sky for the supposedly approaching Sith.

“If they do not come for you Sister, I might just leave you out here. Perhaps that will lessen the shame you brought Matriarch Karnia”

Siri had always found Sister Ichus unnecessarily cruel and unpleasant, wearing her aggression on her sleeves without thought to how such projections made her pettiness blatant to all around her. Siri took little pleasure in how foolish Ichus made herself look. “If it is what you deem best, you should. Perhaps if it was you that was being offered to the Order they would have arrived sooner”

Siri’s tone was neutral, but Ichus was not so foolish to miss the sarcasm; she cast a hard glare at the younger Dathomirian and waved a dismissive hand at the girl. Turning to face the field again, Ichus crossed her arms and stared at the sky.

A strong presence was surely growing closer, Siri could feel it and to a lesser extent so could Ichus. It was merely a matter of time.

« Last Edit: August 06, 2020, 08:02:29 PM by Silfe »


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Re: Silfe
« Reply #1 on: August 06, 2020, 08:03:38 PM »


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