SAURIA DUN FENRIA
Light played upon sparklying blue streaks in her ruby hair that fell from her shoulders as she crouched studying the dirt. A familiar footprint was sunk into it, one that she had not seen in centuries, one that she would never forget. Flecks of fire danced in her cerulean irises as she studied the ground, pressing slender fingertips upon it. Her usually fair cheek was flushed with pink blood. A dark robe hid her into her surroundings as well and sheltered her from the chill of the wind. She had been seeking for so long, and at last she had her first clue. The search had consumed her, bending her soul, twisted now with grief and fury, but also driven by a sole purpose, fully directed. It seemed there was nothing left of her but the search.
KIMBORWEN LAKANOR
A glass teardrop fell from her porcelain face and shattered upon the stone floor where the maiden kneeled. A vibrant blossom of youth so shortly ago, she had wilted, like a flower struck by a sudden frost in the height of bloom. The spark of life, of joy, of youthful mischief, had gone out of her once-warm brown eyes, and their depths only spoke of the depth of her sorrow. Even her hair, once a bouncy and lively mass of curls, seemed limp and lifeless. The bright chestnut tones had dimmed to merely dull brown, the glossy highlights now looked more like gray than there true flaxen gold. Her pale skin had lost it's sheen and lustre. The courtly gown she wore hung loose about her thinning frame; she could not eat in her grief. A beauty torn asunder from all she known and loved, pain and hopelessness were destroying her.
CHARLOTTE GRIVENDEL
A great spider skittered by on monstrous legs. These days, the spiders were Charlotte's only companions but that was the way she liked it. Alone in the darkness, there was nothing to see her, nothing to judge her, nothing but the spiders and the darkness. She was a small miss, especially for an elf, delicate and petite, 4'9". The glossy hair that hung to her belt was arrow-straight and as black as the depths of the night. Her eyes shone through the night, piercing rubies. The skin she wore was so pale it seemed almost to glow, though most of it was covered by her black clothes. She had lived so well, and for so long this time. But like every time, they had found out, and she had had to flee. So it was that she was here, alone, just Charlotte, the spiders, and the darkness.
TANINIVE SINARIN
A tuneless whistle floated on the air, uncapturable but beautifully musical. If you followed the soft breeze that carried it back to its source, you would find sitting there a young faebit (faebit=half hobbit/half faerie). She held in her slender hands a soft flower, a smaller mirror she had made of her own fair beauty. Soft waves of hair brushed her shoulders, fine silver streaked with lavendar. Her eyes, too, were radiantly violet, glittering in the sunlight. Her skin had a soft, silvery luminescence to it, and was softer than the petals of a rose. Her whistling was the barest echo of her voice itself, a thing sweeter than any flute or harp or pipe or chime. She was resting now in her larger form, though when she willed it, her fairy blood enabled her to shrink down to a size smaller than her finger. Her wings, now folded up as she leaned against a hummock, were fragile-looking and gossamer, almost transparent, as though they had been cut of the finest and thinnest sheets of amethyst.
HIBISCUS BRIGHTSONG
She stood tall and strong in the forest of her people, watching the moonlight play on the leaves. A slight breeze played in her dark hair and the light picked up glints of deep shining green in the black strands as she moved. Her eyes were deep and wise – they were the deep brown of fresh turned earth, with hints of brilliant spring green in their depths. Her skin was smooth and satiny, a delicate cinnamon color, appropriately.
She wondered, not for the first time, where her father was. Her mother would never talk about him, except to say how wonderful and noble he was. The girl speculating in the darkness had never met him, and her heart ached for the father she had never known.
She sighed and dug her toes deep into the earth, preparing for yet another long night filled with dreams of a world she’d never seen.
CHERRY BRANDYBUCK
A tiny girl stood at her window, gazing out at the world with bright eyes. The world was a grand place, full of adventures to be had and beautiful things. She knew she hadn’t been born in this place and she didn’t belong here, but that only made it more special. They’d saved her life and she was lucky to be alive, so she treasured every moment.
She shook herself out of such dreary thoughts with a tinkling laugh and a toss of her white-blonde curls. She wore her hair short, the glossy spirals just caressing her dainty chin. So as not to get in the way of her pranks. Her pale silver eyes sparkled as she thought of all the jokes she would play before morning. Night was the best time for sneaking. On tiny, delicate feet she slipped into the night.
LI-AKO MOONSILVER
A slight shadow crossed the moon. No one who happened to notice it would have saw it for what it was – she was good at hiding. On delicate, stained-glass wings, she rode the night winds. The dark sky belonged only to her. It was hard not to laugh for joy, with wind blowing her sapphire curls back into the night, and making her slanted turquoise eyes tear up. She was slim, fragile-looking, and tiny, but don’t be deceived! Her small size and wee bone-structure hid that she was as good a warrior as any man.
No one saw the winged shadow flutter softly across the sky, leaving green and blue shadows in it’s wake, or heard the sly giggle as it passed.
ISILMARI & ISELVRIAN
Two Maidens lay together in a luxurious chamber of a huge, beautiful palace, sleeping peacefully. Both were lovely beyond compare, but in different ways. One was tanned and curvy, with curly dark auburn hair spilling over the down pillow. When open, her eyes were a mesmerizing amber and seemed to read your deepest secrets. On her forehead a spiral of reddish-gold glowed, softly lighting her gorgeous face. Her hand, even in sleep, reaches out toward her sister and best friend.
The other Maiden is slim and toned, with skin pale as alabaster and nearly translucent. Her hair falls in a silver riot of ringlets down her back and over her sleeping face. When awake, her eyes are a blue so pale there nearly colorless. Yet even now her face is illuminated by the silvery-blue spiral on her forehead, matching her sisters.
The pair are of one mind in everything, as they sleep they dream together of glories unknown to mortal minds.
TRIALLI EVRIENLE
On the highest peak of a great mountain she stood, staring sightlessly at the world below her. Of all her great people, she had been chosen for a terrible, dangerous mission. Soon it would begin, and she would be forced to do things normally forbidden. Though she was strong and brave, and revered among the City where she lived as a great warrior, she was afraid. Her perfectly straight, silky golden hair blew across her face in the sharp wind, but she never moved. She was trained as a fighter to ignore distractions. She closed her eyelids over her glittering opal eyes which shimmered from blue to grey to pearl and pink and green, to think. The gold stars on her temples shone like the stars in the sky on this, the great Warrior of the Shining City. She would never let anyone know she was afraid. She would face this mission with all the courage of her people.
SUNARROW
A glowing steed raced across the great plains the pale gold of its coat shining in the light of the full moon. It’s pure white silken main and tail fluttered out behind it as it flew as if on wings toward what destination it knew not. A slim, twisting spire glimmered silver and gold in the pale light from above on it’s forehead, and a pale white sunburst graced it’s hip with a lovely elegance.
At last, exhausted, the honey-colored mare threw herself into a grassy hollow. A swirling, luminous mist seemed to rise from the dewy grass, covering her for a moment. When it cleared, a tall girl lay panting in the high grasses with tears glistening like diamonds on her thick lashes and running down her petal-soft skin. She curled into a tight, sorrowful ball, her snowy hair pouring over her shoulders to hide her tears. Her beloved family had betrayed her, she could never go home now. She didn’t understand why they could do this to her. As soon as she was rested, she would have to run again, for she could never go back. Her obsidian-black eyes closed in exhaustion as she cried herself to sleep.
MIRRIEN LOTHLINIEL
Deep in the swampy darkness of Mirkwood, a heavy rain fell like Mirrien’s tears. It seemed fitting to her that it rained; even the weather was expressing her mood. Everyone she loved was gone, and it was her fault. She had been cast out, and the only place she had now to call home was this wet place, where she constantly had to hide from the great monstrous spiders, and if she was ever caught by the elves that lived there, she would be thrown out yet again to wander the world in sorrow. No place welcomed Mirrien, for she was cursed. She liked the rain. It cried the tears she could not, for she had sworn never to cry again.
She closed her limpid amethyst eyes against the pain of her memories – it hurt her too much. The rain poured down over her, soaking her dark cocoa-tinted hair and obscuring the burnished gold highlights. It was cold here, in the wet and wind. Just like her heart.
With a soulful sigh she turned away from her contemplation of the trees, back to the tiny cave she had claimed for herself and the duty that lay within. As punishment for her sins, she would use the gift that cursed her for the good of others. She would do what she could to make up for her existence.
KESSAWYN TINARRIA
Far away from Middle Earth, a powerful presence watched. She knew of the new danger that walked the world; they thought themselves saved, but in fact they had only cleared the way for a greater threat. She had seen this. That was why she had asked to go there. She would not let the world fall to this evil. It was a great sacrifice, for once descended she could never return to this, her home, but it was necessary. She was the only one who could save them.
She watched, impassive, as the sun rose on another bright day. It seemed strange to her that the day could be so bright and so fair when such evil lingered under the bright sun.
Any watching her might have thought her a statue, so still was she. Not even her waterfall of reddish-blonde hair stirred. Her eyes, a deep midnight blue so dark it seemed you could see the stars in their depths, were distant and thoughtful. There were others on this world who could help her in her quest. She would find them. The fate of the world depended on it. She would not fail.
amused