User:Nimlaiwen/Minyelaírë
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This article is a Player character biography page The contents herein are entirely player made and in no way represent official Lotro history or occurrences which are accurate for all worlds. The characters and events listed are of an independent nature and applied for roleplaying, fictional, speculative, or opinions from a limited playerbase only. |
| Minyelaírë | |
|---|---|
 | |
| Lóriengwaith | |
| World: | Laurelin |
| Vocation: | Armorsmith |
| Class: | Guardian |
| Race: | Elf/Avari |
| Region: | Entire Middle-Earth |
| Age: | about 8000, born in the 1st Age |
| Height: | 1.94m |
| Sex: | female |
| Skin: | clear white |
| Hair: | sickly white-blond |
| Eye: | yellow |
Minyelaírë, meaning The Firstborn's Shadow, is an Avari elf, born in the middle of the 1st Age, of the clan of the Kinn-lai. She ventures mostly alone the wilds of Eriador, but is hardly ever seen.
Description
Physical Description: Minyelaírë is tall, even for an she-elf. She looks not particulary strong, for her build is extremely slender, looking almost sickly and weak. Her hair is on shoulder-length and white-blond, while the lower end remains in a more fresh and healthier looking golden colour. Her eyes are steel-blue, yet around the iris one can easily spot poisonous yellow rings, which easily outshine the blue. The skin of her is white, yet not as pale-white and beautiful as of other elves and over her face, from cheek-bone to cheek-bone, a long horizontale line may be spot. This line is a symbol of her clan, the Kinn-lai, which she got early as child.
Personality Description: As Avari, Minyelaírë has almost no knowledge about civilized behaviour, or even cares for it. She thinks it to be "in the way" or "unsuitable" for her own being. She reacts to anything or anyone new with great hostality, being always suspicious, which comes certainly from a hard life without any splendour or great halls, but living in the wild, where every day is a day to fight in order to survive. By all her hostality and her sharp tongue, Minyelaírë is everything else, but heartless. It often seems that she fails in taking the first step when it comes to socialize with other beings. Rather strange might aswell seem that she talks sometimes to herself, a mere whisper though and hardly ever to understand. Probably aswell from her time in which she was alone in the wilds for centuries. Especially easy to notice is her fear from the race of the Aínur, since she descends from those elves who fled to the time in which the Great Huntsman Oromë arrived in order to lead the elves towards Aman.
The Avari-Clan Kinn-lai and Minyelaírë's birth
For the kindred of Ingwë, and the most part of the kindreds of Finwë and Elwë, were swayed by the words of their lords, and were willing to depart and follow Oromë: and these were known ever after as the Eldar, by the name that Oromë gave to the Elves in the beginning, in their own tongue. But many refused the summons, preferring the starlight and the wide spaces of Middle-Earth to the rumor of the Trees; and these are the Avari, the Unwilling, and they were sundered in that time from the Eldar, and met never again until many ages were past.
Now the Eldar had left Middle-Earth along side with Oromë for Valinor, and the Avari parted aswell from one another, being split into different clans and families such as the Kindi, Cuind, Hwenti, Windan, Kinn-lai, and Penni.
The Kinn-lai went to the south where the weather became warmer and warmer and rain was seldom seen. And they passed the lands of Rhûn and Cuvuiënen lay now to the north as they came over the wide lands of Hildorien. Some might stayed behind and ventured on their own, but most of the Kinn-lai went forth into the uttermost south, past the sea of Almaren into the forests and jungles, which are today part of Harad and there the Knn-lai lived sundered and isolated from the rest of the world.
In these lands, at around the time that Doriath was destroyed far, far away in Beleriand, Irilhech, huntress of the Kinn-lai, gave birth to her first-born daughter Minyelaírë. This name she received from her father a few days after her birth for Minyelaírë's hair was golden and reminded her father of his grandfather who had been at sundering of Eldar and Avari. The newborn Avari's father, Thangarth was not pleased with his daughter as one should expect for he had the wish for a son and therefor Minyelaírë had to take this role for many centuries.
The first days of the young Avari were, as they should be, filled with peace and tranquility within the southern woods and among her kin, but was given after the first couple of years to her mother's sister Endorialië, for Irilhech was a huntress and seldom within her home, but rather out in the wild for many weeks and months, while Thangarth had no fine feeling for his daughter, who he wished to be born as son.
Minyelaírë's Youth
During her youth she was taught the art of the "Megílalag", which was and maybe is still the art to handle the sword in battle of the Kinn-lai. The Megílalag has aspects of grace and requires long studying of the movements. For an non-Kinn-lai eye these technique might remind of sword-dancing and whirling.
However, Minyelaírë did her father no great honour during her studies of that art of fighting for she took it hard on herself, being stubborn and unwilling and not precisely good with the sword.
Yet her father would not let go off her and within time she grew into it, starting o practise by herself and, the movements beings hammered into her mind, she accepted it as part of her and to surprise of her father and family, left the clan of the Kinn-lai to direction North-West.
There she came towards the deserts and waste-lands of Harad where men with dark skin began to settle and the sun ever shone in heat.
Minyelaírë among the Haradrim
The Avari-maiden stayed a long time in Haradwaith, which was to that time not corrupted by Sauron and the men were split in many tribes and settling within the deserts. The settling Minyelaírë was mostly to be found was called Fasar and is today no longer existend. She always went hooded and cloaked, not only to protect herself from the heat of the sun, but so she was not easily discovered as elf, which could cause high trouble among the mankind. Some held her for what she was, a higher spiritual being, but it had aswell occured often that the men put her to flee, being afraid of her appearance.
The sun send her rays of light this midday towards the dry earth unlike any other day. Untiring was the great pane of light upon the sky and there was not a single cloud that would hide or prevent the beams of light just for a mere second. Men and beasts had been taken retreat towards the cooler shadow and nothing moved between the low and brownish golden clay houses, which lanes were often covered with roofs of cloth from above connecting the house to provide a little protection against the cruel sun to this hour. Only the slight and warm breeze woed through the allies of sand and abandoned wares and kiosks of the merchants, until, which was rare to this time of the day, a figure came around one of the house corners and wandered off towards the center of the settlement of Fasar. The figure was clothed in heavy white lines, dirty from dust and travel. The long robe was certainly once a wonderful piece a tailor's work, for fine lines and symbols wind themselves up upon the sleeves over the arms towards the shoulder and the ribbon which served on many places in complicated musters to hold the robe together was of fine golden silk. A hood and a scarf covered the face of the figure, which moved with long steps and a great pace through the lanes, passing the workshops of merchants in which would lie plates, pots and jugs of fine copper work, for the way led from the weavers towards the smiths and metal-workers. Many fine things were to be seen. Silver and works of bronze and golden bracelets and rings weaved from fine threats of the rare metal, for those who could effort such treasure in these lands. But the figure with yellowish, once blue eyes and clear white skin had no eye for such, for the purpose of her coming was far different from buying merchant's goods or strolling beneath the roofs of cloath and the cruel beams of the sun. Soon she would come upon a wide square-market with a well out of stone within the middle and she bend over to drink. Cool was the water upon her hands and lips, unlike the burning sun, which was shining upon the square which was far too big to let it be covered by backlogs. A voice caught her attention.
"There thee art! Sooner then have expected, for we do not expect cowards to come at all, Shiannafeya."
Shiannafeya. This word was letting the figure looking up, the water still dropping from her hand, she looked upon the two men. Both were in dark robes and with turbans upon their heads, eventhough the sun shone hot and without mercy. Each of them carried a long sabre by the side. She knew these men.
"Thou callest one of my being coward, Rastûllah? Hast thou not attacked the caravane with thy men upon the hour of midnight? A trap it was and thou canst not denie!"
The man, Rastûllah, stepped nearer yet held distance to her of a few steps, his hand upon his sabre-hilt.
"I have no desire to speak to the Shiannafeya but with my blade. If thee art no coward then so throw down thy cover and face me in honourable battle and do not shoot my men with silver arrows from the shelter unseen from us!"
The cloaked figure halted for a moment, looking upon the man, and throwing a look to the other one, who she knew was Rastûllah's brother, Malkillah. She descended slowly the few steps to the well and carefully went a circle around the two, untieing the robe's ribbon, letting the cloathing piece fall to the ground. Her white-blond hair fell long over her shoulders and the sun glistend in the clearity of her white skin, as the yellow and piercing eyes observed the two men. Minyelaírë of the Kinn-Lai Avari wrinkled her nose and the movement followed her black facial line, she bore from one cheek-bone towards the other, going straight over her nose. Her walk was easy in the light cloth hauberk and leather shoes and the sand seem almost not to move under her steps. She was like a falcon looking upon its prey.
"For honour, Shiannafeya! To the death of one of us.", said Rastûllah and drew his plain steel sabre. He took a defensive position, the blade upwards and ready to parry hits coming from what-ever side or direction. The Avari-elf nodded merely knowing the traditions and rituals of this land and accepted quietly the challenge, Rastûllah had given to her. She drew her own blade, a light and beautiful made elven scimitar, ever sharp and never-breaking had been proving this weapon itself towards her and she loved it greatly, was it ever a fine companion to her. Her arm arose over her head in a half-circle, holding the scimitar high like a scorpion its sting and with fine and well set steps she drew close to the men, upon who's forehead was sweat. He was afraid.
And yet he began the dance! With a quick thrust he bend forwards aiming to impale her, but such easy and fast is an elf not slain and she moved and evaded to the side with a single step, letting her other foot follow to turn behind him and letting her sword rush towards his shoulder. But Rastûllah, was aswell not new to the art of the swordfighting, indeed he had been ever fighting over his life and therefor knew that such movement would come from such an agile foe and he let himself fall, leading the Avari's blade into the nothing, rolling himself up on the sandy ground and quickly arising back to his feet. Yet the man knew one thing not. Minyelaírë had lived already far longer then him and she was taught far higher arts then he would be ever able to learn and so she began the combat a new, slashing, thrusting and hitting after him in full, complete and smooth movings, dancing around him and whirling her blade around in great pace, so that he was hardly able to see from where the deadly sword would come and still he was always able to parry and lead it away from him. Time and reality was out of Minyelaírë's sense and understanding for the time she was one with the Megílalag. Everything was going slower, while she moved seemingly with greater pace, able to coordinate her movings and attacks perfectly and to almost foresee his counter-attacks and to reacts with a counter by herself. She felt not the hot burning sun, or tiring of muscles or the biting sand which was thrown into her face by an heavy breeze. She was only herself. Her and the sword. Rastûllah backed off a little, but only to attack a new, now more fierce and afraid even, knowing almost that he could not best the Avari and that his doom was decided. He aimed with the stud of his sabre to hit her chin, and she reacted on it. But such was a trick of him and the let his sabre descend to impale one of her legs. Before the haradrim's blade was able to cut through flesh and bone, it would been hit by an elven scimitar, which its wielder had let turn in the hand downwards pointing with the blade, holding it now more like a ceremonial dagger. With a quick spin to reset the counter and parry, the Avari ended it. The scimitar rushed first through cloths and finally through skin and flesh, cutting with ease through the ribs, letting them burst aside as the man's chest was impaled and he let out a dying scream of pain, which was missing breath. He tried to speak as he looked into the yellow eyes of the Avari, but no tone came out. Only a fine line of blood crawled over his lips and beardless chin and a few seconds later his life had faded. Minyelaírë, looked upon Malkillah, Rastûllah's brother, but he was gone and would soon return with many men to earn revenge for the death of his sibling. The Avari left Rastûllah where she took his life. She would not dare to move the body or to burry him herself, such was the family's task and not the foe's. Picking up her robe and cleaning her sword, the elf quickly cloaked herself again and disapperead in the many lanes and allies of the settlement, heading north...
