frill
he's stood right behind me isn't he
Loran
Louarn dál Mawr
b. 1368.
tl;dr
One-eyed wood elf, skilled crossbow archer.
Long ginger hair, a solitary eye.
Former mercenary and sailor, long outliving his purpose and his comrades.
Early Life
Born early, Loran possessed a pale face that set him apart from his brethren. With a charmed face and green eyes, Loran navigated the world with a taciturn gaze that bore witness to the trials and tribulations of his existence. His red tresses cascaded from head to shoulder-blade down his lithe form, a vibrant crown of distinction that marked him as one of those elven woodland dwellers among the ranks of his high-elven compeers.
In his youth, Loran journeyed far from his ancestral home, venturing into the great seas, seeking adventure and purpose. A crossbow became his most trusted companion, an extension of his unwavering will and marksmanship.
Meeting Huron, and the life aquatic.
Through the perils and battles that punctuated their lives, Loran found an unlikely battle-brother and confidant in Cirdan, a fellow wood elf whose raven-black hair stood in stark contrast to Loran's fiery locks. Their bond surpassed the superficial barriers of appearance, forged in the crucible of shared experiences and steadfast camaraderie. Side by side, the Seaguard stood as sentinels of one another's souls, fighting to guard against the manifold forces of darkness, political and voidal, that threatened to consume Eden.The great peace.
The future.
The passing of Huron.
After months of seperation, the winds of fate blew both Huron and Loran towards Castle Helstein. Remains delivered to its cold stone walls, Huron's vibrant spirit gradually faded, like a dying ember in a forgotten hearth. And so it was, that his lifeless body, wrapped in the remains of his own ship hammock, found its final resting place in the embrace of the unforgiving sea. Cast adrift by his own Seaguard, his journey concluded in the watery depths, a solemn burial befitting the laconic character he embodied. The waves, like mournful dirges, carried him away, leaving behind unanswered questions and a void in the hearts of those who once sought solace in Huron's stern presence.
Cirdan.
For nearly a century, the lives of the wood elves Cirdan and Loran intertwined like the branches of ancient trees, weathering storms and basking in the warmth of the sun's embrace. Both elves had known eachother since their first few days of breath; unlike Huron who was paymaster and liege, Cirdan was kindred to Loran for decades beyond their first ventures on the open waves. They learned to name the great light in the sky, the names of the passing seasons, all of the very first things of life were as brothers.
Through lives of battles won and lost, through triumph and tribulation, Cirdan stood by Loran's side, a steadfast presence in a world that did not want theirs. In exile from more cities and states that the men could count, they only knew of their reliance on eachother.
Together, they navigated the treacherous landscapes of Eden, their bond forged in the crucible of shared suffering and their unwavering loyalty to the Seaguard.
But even the mightiest oaks can succumb to the ravages of a blade. Cirdan's spirit was cut short. The years were not allowed to etch lines upon his weathered face. There was no sign of age or unease to the elf, no map of the countless battles fought and the burdens carried. The head that Loran collected was one in his prime.
And so it was, with hearts heavy and eyes brimming with tears, that Loran bid farewell to his dearest friend. Cirdan's remains were lovingly cradled in the arms of the ocean. In a final act of reverence, Loran wrapped what was left of his fallen comrade in a shroud of memories, a tapestry of shared laughter, sorrow, and unspoken words. With a heavy heart, he cast what was left of his friend adrift upon the gentle swells, allowing the currents to carry the fatal package towards the horizon, where the sun bids farewell to the day.
The sea, that vast and unfathomable expanse, embraced Cirdan, welcoming him back to the depths from whence life first emerged.
As the sun dipped below the edge of the world, a solitary figure stood upon the shore, gazing out into the infinite expanse, forever changed by the absence of his kindred.
Loran left to traverse the world without his lifelong companions.
Last edited:
