{{Sorry for changing the format, but I think I covered everything asked for in the original form...}}


| S T A T S |

name | Lethe Nocthiel
gender | Female
race | Elf
age | 208
loyalty | Neutral
profession | Wanderer and warrior
height | 5'11''
weight | 132 lbs
hair | Black
eyes | Sapphire blue


| D E S C R I P T I O N |

appearance | Lethe is tall and fine-boned, like all of her race. She has the light elven muscle that is deceptive to her strength, but her body is slender and elegant despite its hardness. Her height is above that of the average human, her limbs well shaped, her fingers slim, graceful, yet strong. Her hair is dark, deep midnight black, silken and fine so as to fan with the lightest breeze. It reaches past her hips, layered slightly and unevenly to give it shape in its length. Her part falls slightly to her left, shadowing the side of her face, but her hair is most often pulled back from her temples and tied at the nape of her neck.

Her face is as elven as her form, evoking immortal beauty and symmetry. Her skin, pale as ivory, is smooth and nearly luminous under moonlight. A slightly pointed chin, a slim, straight nose, and high, narrow cheekbones shape a delicate and angular profile. The pronounced, delicate point of her pale ears leaves no doubt as to her race. Palest rose in hue, her lips are delicately shaped, and hint of vulnerability. Her eyes are faintly slanted and elegantly formed with a trace of the elves’ exotic shape, her brows are dark and slimly arched, her dark lashes softly framing her eyes. Lethe’s eyes are the deep, rich blue of sapphires, filled with the subtle glow of emotion.

clothing | When in the wilds, Lethe wears the dark clothing of an elven ranger, overlaid with plates of dark steel armor, subtle and spaced so as to give full freedom to her graceful movements. It is elven armor, and so far lighter than its resistance would suggest, shaped in elegant curves and points. Beneath the armor is a sleek and fitted tunic and breeches, of black silk embroidered with deep blue and delicate silver. Over all she wears a great, dark-blue cloak, of heavy fabric that falls in rippling folds, and on her back she carries a dark pack of traveler's supplies and provisions.

weapons | Lethe carries twin swords in crossed sheaths on her back; they are fine and delicately wrought, of undoubtedly elven make. Despite their slimness and beautiful design their silvery blades give a promise of strength, sharpness, and swift death. The slender hilts are of gleaming black metal smooth as polished stone, perfectly fitted to her hands. The pommels are large, smooth-cut sapphires, luminous and as deeply blue as her eyes.


| I D E N T I T Y |

personality | Lethe is a silent elf; she spends most of her time listening to her thoughts and little talking. In this she often seems cold and reserved, but her inner warmth and compassion are great. She loves those closest to her above everything else, and will do anything to protect them. She is led by emotion more often than rational thought, especially in battle. Yet she cannot be called impulsive, for her feelings are most often true and her judgments clear, in the intelligence and sometimes even wisdom that influences her emotion. Injustice and foolishness easily anger her, but hers is a silent fury; she rarely screams in rage but in the extremity of battle.

She is in constant doubt of her strengths and dwells on her weaknesses, with a lack of self-confidence disproportionate to her skills and achievements. In solitude she too frequently gives way to dark thoughts and sorrow, in her love of the night and its white moon, stemming from the past, the present war-torn land, or some untraceable source that seems to always be within her. She is by nature melancholy, yet unexpected joy and love can make her beautifully happy.

With her swords in hand she is cool and graceful in movement, despite the fiery anger that manifests in her silvery eyes against a cruel enemy. She thinks of her own injuries and weaknesses last and often ignores them completely, but a wound in another will receive her concern immediately. She is no hard and callous warrior, however, for despite her centuries carrying her swords each renewal of battle and violence brings her fresh pain and sorrow. She keeps these emotions from others, on the outside simply proficient in combat and unmoved, but her heart is never so icy as it appears.

skills | Her dark and silver swords are like extensions of her hands, precise and deadly. She wields them in combination so quick and graceful that her movements seem a dance, her blades blurs of silvery steel. In this, her natural ability, she is superior to most. Like all her kin, she is strong, swift, and graceful in battle, and most physical skills come naturally to her with aid of these qualities. She is an elf truly of Du Weldenvarden and so a woodswoman of the highest quality, skilled in tracking, hunting, and intimate with the ways of the forest. Her elven blood also gives her sight and hearing far advanced from a human’s.

weaknesses | Though most elves are masters of magic, Lethe has a curious inability in that regard. She can call up a little magic to herself, but despite her greatest concentration and effort, her power never surpasses that of an apprentice spellweaver. It seems to be a binding or curse place upon her, for her lineage is purely elven, but Lethe will only regard it as her failing, a flaw in her blood. Though fluent in the ancient language of the elves, her magic is never more than a small blue flame compared to the powerful fires of her kin.

Her archery has suffered through her devotion to her swords; her aim is barely passable for an elf, her arms devoid of the signature muscle of the archer, her fingers without bowstring calluses. If she were suddenly called upon to shoot she would do a very poor job by the standard of her kin. She therefore must engage the enemy in close range, and does not have the advantage of attacking from afar.

pleasures | Lethe enjoys solitude and quiet, the majesty of wilderness and forest, cool weather and stormy skies. She is an elf of the night and of shadow, alone and ethereal in the moonlight, caught in remembrance and distanced from all. Battle is her only passion, though she can hardly be said to take pleasure in it. Distant wishes and remembered tales tell of an earlier love of dragons and Riders, an old delight dimmed by time and solitude.

displeasures | Her hatred for evil is accompanied by a lesser dislike for foolishness and immaturity, wherever they might be found. Heat and barren plains hold no attraction for her, and she prefers the touch of shadow to the scorching of midday sun. Sorcerers and Shades evoke in her a burning loathing, even when she can do nothing against them. She cares nothing for the struggle between the Varden and the Empire, for she can not regard any nation as wholly evil, and thus will not fight for either side.

aspirations | Her future is mysterious and dark as the night. She has left behind all ties and friendships of her past, and now wanders alone in the wilds. Her only dreams seem to be ones of vague longing for peace and belonging, feelings which no longer belong to her. She lives only to hunt down evil where it crosses her path, a shadow in the far forests of the realm.


| B A C K G R O U N D |

family | She has no memory of her childhood, nor her parents, though when she was younger she used to have vague, shadowy dreams of her past, of a fair, dark-haired woman who might have been her mother, of a great bronze dragon and the silhouette of a warrior against a darkening sky. And once she might have considered her family to be the warriors and apprentices of the Istarlíarget, but no longer; now she is alone.

home | There is no home but the wilderness for her now, though she does keep some of her belongings with an old acquaintance in Osilon. She grew up in the warrior's haven of Istarlíarget, deep in Du Weldenvarden, north of Ellesmera.

history | Lethe was found as a child in the forest near Istarlíarget, an ancient castle in a distant northern valley. Istarlíarget, or Silverfire, was a place for elven warriors and spellweavers to train, those who were alone in the forest and had no relations or masters in the cities to look to. The elves there gave Lethe her surname, for she was always enamored of the moonlit night, and her first name was one of the few things she remembered. There Lethe turned to her swords in absence of memory or magic, and developed a skill with blades that surpasses most, many even among the elves. She came to the everlasting daylight of elven maturity in the secret depths of Du Weldenvarden, to her a forest of beauty and serenity but also shadow and despair.

Her life in Istarlíarget was one of mixed joy and isolation, for there were never more than ten elves in residence in its ancient stone halls, and not all were friendly towards her, an elf without lineage or magical ability. Even among those who were already cast out, differences in rank were noted. But she found friends there, and after long years grew to love an elf named Laidir, a handsome and compassionate spellweaver. Days with him were bright and they became inseparable, deaf to the turmoil of the southern world, beneath the beauty of the ancient trees.

Then, one winter night, tragedy and horror struck the northern valley, in a mysterious attack of dark sorcery on Istarlíarget. The elves beat off the summoned beasts and cruel spells, but in the end several elves were wounded, and Laidir was slain. Lethe was stricken by his death, but her sorrow was far greater than his accidental demise would account for, and she fostered a strange self-hatred. After a lingering a few days in Istarlíarget, a broken and silent wraith, she disappeared into the forest and headed south.

The years passed and the seasons washed over her, holding battle and respite, bright days and ones darker than the night. She has spent her life in this way since, wandering almost aimlessly across all the land. She has returned to Istarlíarget once since, and will again, but it no longer holds her heart. One day she will find it again.



{{Heh, a bit long...don't expect this of me normally though, I usually just write too much for bios and this one was mostly cobbled together out of old characters }}

The bio looks great. I guess I approve then?