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|☥ ELJIN Ó MEADHRA||
Posted: Nov 29 2017, 09:09 PM
1643 • Swanfolk • Honour • Seelie Lands
Once Upon a Time...
A valiant man with an esteemed reputation, Eljin stands tall with a rigid back and a trained expression. Despite his muscular physique, and his stoic expression, Eljin can smile with a surprising amount of warmth. Not born especially beautiful like most fae, Eljin’s steely grey eyes are slightly too far apart, and his teeth have a few gaps between one another. Minor imperfections, but obvious when compared to other fae. Eljin does not use his glamour to appear more beautiful, though. Instead, he paints his face, highlights and contours distracting from his imperfection and favouring his better features, such as his immaculate bone structure in his jaw, cheeks, and nose. Framing this masterpiece he spends countless hours perfecting, Eljin wears his white hair long and with natural, relaxed waves cascading down his back. He has been known to dye his hair different colours, however, along with braiding and ornamenting his hair for social gatherings.
Eljin strolled through the gardens of this youth. All the trees and bushes bloomed vibrant hues, a kaleidoscope of a sight. Spring had always been his favourite season of the year. The sights and smells always set his heart aflutter, matching the wingbeat of the hummingbirds that nursed on the flowers around him. Today, though, it would come to an end as the Summer heat began to set in, draining the fresh flora of their moisture. Despite the tragedy, he felt anxious for the night’s festivities that would lead into the new season. This garden did not help either, bringing to light some more painful memories from his youth.
A cygnet of only eight years sits at the foot of his mother, his head in her warm lap as he shook a few sobs, his eyes and cheek damp with tears. He cried to his mother of how cruel the other cygnets were to him. They could hear, from the open window of the chamber, the children at play in the garden, making those fresh wounds so very sore. Their words still rung in his ears, telling him of his unpleasant appearance, his graceless performance, and his disregard for complacency to standard protocol. Of course, such insults were not thrown with much tact in their own right, but it amounted to the same understanding; they did not like Eljin.
His mother cooed softly at his tale, her fingers brushing through his smooth locks. It was a comfort that easily swayed the young boy. As she began to hum a soft tune from his infancy, Eljin’s sobs subsided. “You are a child of miracle, Eljin,” his mother paused her singing to speak once she had his attention. “You are the strongest of all the siblings that tried to come before you. You are stronger than them, and stronger than those who try to berate you because they see your strength and they fear you.” She leaned down, her lips touching to the top of Eljin’s head. “You were born to be great, Eljin. You were born to be King of the Swanfolk, but in your veins does run the power to be more. You have the ability to be different from how they see you, a beauty beyond measure, a dancer with grace, a warrior with honour engraved upon his heart. Be everything they tell you you’re not.” She sits up once more, petting over his hair again. “Have you heard me, my sweet Eljin?”
Eljin raised his head, his face still wet with tears, his steely eyes marred with an irritated red. “Yes, mother.”
“My cygnet,” Fionnghula greeted softly, going to stand.
Eljin placed a hand on hers and kneeled beside her chair, causing her to stay seated.
“Please, do not stand,” he pleaded gently. Eljin took up her hand and pressed a kiss to the back. It came up to caress over his cheek, brushing back into his long, fair hair that was so very much like her own, and tucked it behind his ear.
“Look how handsome you are,” she sighed, “Let me see.” And she motioned for him to stand, Eljin complying without hesitation.
Her expectations of her son were always high, but Eljin had proven them obtainable. When they met now, he ensured he was immaculate, just as he presented himself to the Seelie court. He stood in front of his mother in tailored robes, gentle pastel colours sweeping through the white and silver fabric.
“You look as your father did when he was a young man,” she smiled. “Please, join me for tea, Eljin.”
He sat in the open chair across from the Swanfolk Queen.
The maid, who had been standing on the outskirts of the clearing, moved forward to pick up the teapot and pour Eljin a cup as well. His eyes followed along her arms and up to her very sweet looking face.
“Thank you,” Eljin said softly. The maid seemed nearly startled by this and all at once became red in the face. That was not an uncommon reaction that Eljin received from lower fae. He did not attempt to fluster her, but wanted to be polite.
The maid pulled at her collar a little. It was not the uniform Eljin remembered from when he lived in the Swan Palace, when his mother took sole charge of the help. He knew that his mother still was in charge of them, but had plenty else to do. However, it seemed strange to Eljin that the maid uniform would be so… unflattering. The pastel tones did nothing for the olive tone of the woman's skin and the high collar hid her beautiful, slender neck. Why, then, would his mother hide such beauty when it was what she sought to exemplify in the world?
Eljin looked from the maid to his mother very pointedly. Her eyes flicked away quickly.
Jealousy created a monster out of the most pure beings.
The maid was young, still having yet to find her life mate, still able to feel that fluttering of youthful crushes that his own mother couldn’t. Eljin thought his mother a proud being, and he was sure she didn’t like his realization, and he braced himself for what may come.
“Have you completed your gift for Our Radiancy?” Fionnghula asked. She took up her teacup and had quiet sip.
Eljin plucked up a sugarcube between his fingers, watching at his mother’s eyes trained upon it. She didn’t like Eljin having too many sweets. The sugar was placed into his cup of tea and stirred. It hardly made a noise, except a gentle humming note that sang as the spoon ran circles around the bottom of the cup. He placed the spoon down.
“Yes, I finished the engravings about a month ago. Three weeks ago I found an enchanter to assist me in finishing the imbuing,” Eljin explained to his mother.
“Is that not a little late, considering you will be giving the gift to her today?” She asked.
“The sword was re-crafted five times over the last ten years. This one was three years in the making, I believe the final touches came just in time. Perfection cannot be restricted to mortal ideals such as time. If the sword had not been ready this year, then it would have been ready the next” Eljin was calm and gentle as he spoke.
Fionnghula smiled sweetly at her son. “How youthful and carefree you still are despite how such tendencies have lead you astray in the past.”
“The past has taught me to nurture those tendencies, so they are not to come out in such exuberant flourishes,” Eljin deflected gracefully.
“It seems you have learned. Courting our Radiant Queen instead of a homely mortal girl,” Fionnghula responded airly, picked her cup up to take another sip and allow her words to sink in.
“What is it Eljin?” Her voice was cold, bitter, devoid of all warmth it once held. It scorned him, pushed him away. He had set aside her book when it was announced he wished to see her. The Swan Queen was almost offended that he would dare ask an audience with her, but allowed it either way.
Eljin clutched the archway, his other hand at his chest. “Mother,” his voice whispered, strained, begging, pleading to her seated back.
Fionnghula turned her head and saw her son for the first time in thirty years, and felt a pressure on her lungs that pushed all air from her body. He clung to the frame of the archway, his face streaked with streams of tears, still pouring from his eyes. His fair hair a wild mess around his face, his mortal commoner clothing crumpled and unflattering. Eljin let out a choked sob and fell to his knees, curling into himself as his body was wracked with sobs.
“My cygnet,” she gasped, gathering the skirts of her dress and standing as she rushed towards her child, falling to her knees and pulling him into her arms. Fionnghula could not bring herself to stay bitter with him for the lonely home he'd left her in, nothing but her servants and a husband called away so often to war that he might as well not lived there at all. She embraced Eljin, resting his head against her breast, slowly rocking him and shushing him while he sobbed into her, choking on his own grief.
As the sobs subsided, the Swan Queen was not first to break the silence. Her son wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.
“She’s gone,” he whispered, muffling in the fabric of her dress.
“I know,” she whispered back. No swanfolk cried so thoroughly over anything, besides the loss of their life mate.
There was a time of horrible silence. No more sobbing, no more wailing, just her limp son in her arms. Fionnghula felt a wetness in her own eyes, mourning the loss of the youthful exuberance her son once had. No longer would Eljin feel the happiness of love, of companionship and passion that came with a swan’s life mate. He had squandered it on a mortal girl whose life was so fleeting it would hardly give Eljin even a moment of happiness in his own life.
“I will do as you ask,” Eljin spoke hollowly, grasping onto her skirt, “just… tell me what to do, mother.” He let out a strain, choked cry. "Just make it stop hurting."
Eljin felt his toes curl in the safety of his boots as his mother's words gripped his heart. She never understood, not completely.
“I did not court a homely mortal woman, mother,” Eljin began, knowing that he should simply agree and move on, “I fell in love and married her. I had a family with her.”
His mother’s cold eyes shot a look at him, Eljin closing his mouth quickly. She didn’t, but he could almost hear a hiss come from her. He was not allowed to speak of his youthful transgressions, his act of rebellion after some no name flower fae was named King-in-Waiting.
“If you loved her, you would not be able to fall in love with the Queen,” Fionnghula explained simply, “That is how swanfolk love.”
“Yes, mother,” Eljin subsided, knowing it was for the best. Eljin should not speak so openly about a past that he and his mother had worked so hard to blot out. Maids spoke, afterall.
He heard a gentle tutting, just a slight click of the tongue off the roof of his mother's mouth and he knew well enough that he was being reprimanded. There was never a point in his life when Eljin didn’t feel the need to impress his mother. Even when he had run to the human world, he still tried and failed then to live up to some portion of her expectations. Eljin had to live the life she wanted him to. There was no other way. He had to live among the Seelie, had to position himself within the Queen’s inner court, he had to bring pride to the swanfolk and the royal Meadhra line. Everything he detested about the people around him he had to pretend he didn’t to garner their favour of him.
“Are you to assist the King-in-Waiting with his personal preparations for this evening?”
And Eljin had to be cordial with the one person he hated the most, The Darling Demon, Farren ab Cathal.
“What was she thinking, promoting that lazy cow?” Eljin hissed through gritted teeth, glancing to the light of the entrance from the side hall they resided in, inside the Radiant Queen's castle.
His mother’s hand struck him across the face. It stung. Fionnghula had never stuck her son before, only ever using gentle reprimanding words.
“She is your Queen, and the Darling Demon your King-in-Waiting,” she hissed back, a wild look of concern in her eyes. “Imagine what would happen if they heard you speaking like that?”
Eljin looked down at his mother, eyes wide as his hand cradled his reddened cheek.
After the display put on by the Queen with the flower fae Elders, Eljin feared to just think upon what she may do.
“Mother-” Eljin started, ready to speak of the injustice to Her Radiancy's inner court, who worked much harder than the poppy fae to gain such a title. The useless flower fae had just coasted into the position on his innate abilities, his healing, his pleasantry. He hated him. The fog that cast over Eljin’s mind when the weed was near made him sick.
His mother raised her hand to quiet him.
“Eljin, you cannot speak of them like that. You may think it, but never speak it. There is no one you can trust with those thoughts, even I could speak of what you said and it may reach the Queen. Those are treacherous words, my cygnet.” Her hand slipped beneath his, stroking his sore cheek. He looked defeated under her touch. Eljin knew what she said was true and he’d let his frustrations get the better of him.
“Come, allow me to groom you,” she said smoothly, slipping her hand from his cheek into his hand to lead her son to a powder room.
“He would have no other,” Eljin responded. With this, he had succeeded, despite everything.
His mother smiled and the grip on his heart released. Eljin could breath once more. All that frustrated and disappointed his mother was in the past now. He was the man she wanted him to be.
“I do hope it will be as striking at your own wardrobe,” Fionnghula asked. She tipped the final contents of her teacup through her lips.
“More so." He knew his place. Never was he to outshine his Queen, nor his King-in-Waiting, but to be striking nonetheless.
Fionnghula nodded to her maid, who moved forward to help her rise from her seat. She stood, the light casting beautiful, contouring shadows over her face, catching the gems sewed into the bodice of her gown. Eljin looked up at the Swan Queen with awe, all at once remembering why he listened to her wisdom; she was an example of all the power and beauty one could possess. She always made him feel so small, but was always there to offer a hand to pull Eljin to her magnitude. The Swan Prince wanted to be everything his mother was.
“Do not allow me to keep you any longer, then, my sweet cygnet,” she spoke softly, nodding to her son, “You are wanted to paint our Darling Demon into a King-in-Waiting this afternoon, and I cannot take away more time from your own transformation from Swan Knight to Swan Prince.” Fionnghula moved towards her son. She pet through his hair to hold the back of his head and leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead. “I will see you tonight at the Equinox Celebration.”
“Yes, mother,” Eljin closed his eyes as he spoke. He took in her scent and touch, taken back to a simpler time, one when all that was on his mind was drifting through the calm pond a league away from where they sat now.
Eljin was left in the garden then, in a moment of complete tranquility, a peace of mind that only his mother could bring.
As swanfolk, Eljin has the ability to change into a swan. The only way to distinguish him from other swans would be the chain around his neck. Additionally, Eljin has the ability to sprout wings, which he uses often in battle to conduct more complex swordplay.
Just as with all fae, the Swan Prince has a glamour. Not only does is allow him to appear more becoming, it can instill bravery and honour into another creature. In his presence, those lower than him often feel the compulsion to act honourably. It is important to note that Eljin does not use his glamour to change his features to appear more attractive, as he believes that takes much less skill. To appear more attractive, he dresses finely and paints his face to hide certain features and bring out others, making him a curiosity among the fae when it comes to beauty. When used on an ally in battle, they gain a +1 to their rolls.
Around his neck Eljin wears a simple silver chain. When he was younger, he charmed the chain to be connected with both his wardrobe and armory, allowing him to change clothing, jewelry, shoes, armour, and weapons remotely. He will use this both in battle to chose the most appropriate armour and weapons for his opponent, and at events he attends just to make an impression. Can only be used once per turn in battle.
When not on the battlefield, in court, or training, Eljin is in the forge. His armory is filled with armours and weapons of his own creation. He has spent years perfecting this art. These services are available for others and Eljin often makes weaponry and armour for the war, but, if the price is right, Eljin will offer private services. Often times, the private services produce weapons and armour of magical quality.
Eljin is a master of not only the sword, but of all weapons. Though he does prefer the sword, he is not impaired by having to use a new weapon. If disarmed, he may pick up any weapon within reach and use it without issue. This is because Eljin spends several hours every single day training with weapons. Of course, if the weapon is not native to Earth, or similar to a weapon native to Earth, Eljin may have some trouble.
Eljin is known as the best swordsman among the fae. He's won a great many battles and has brought glory to the Seelie. He even won Durandal, his legendary sword, in a duel. Many with too much hubris about their own abilities with the sword have called for a duel with Eljin, only to be bested with ease. His only secret is hard work. Eljin runs drills everyday on the training field, as well as joining in any sparing he can.
As with all fae, Eljin is weak to iron. Nothing in his armoury is made of iron, using different metals to create his works. If iron were to be use near Eljin, he would quickly be drained of power, unable to use glamour, or his changeling abilities, which would revert him back to a swan. Additionally, if the iron were to make contact with him, poisoning him, the draining effects will last longer.
Other AttributesVanity Eljin refuses to use magic to adjust his appearance, taking a more tactical route with makeup and fine clothing. This, however, takes many hours and he does not shy away from taking more time to prepare for an event than how long the event lasts. He must ensure every hair is in place, ever contour blended to perfection, and he expects nothing less of himself. Saving Face As a testament to his ideals of perfection, Eljin is especially good at concealing thoughts and feelings. He holds people to the same standards as he does himself and won't be impressed if they are unable to meet them. When he is unimpressed, however, he does not say anything, nor does he show it. Eljin masterfully charms and plays at being good company at all times. Romantic Swans mate for life, and the same goes for Eljin. He took a human wife early in his life, fathering a line of swan maidens, but her mortality lead to her rapid death. To Eljin, he mated with her for her lifetime, and he has mourned her death deep in his heart.
When courting, Eljin is romantic and loyal, never looking at another. Love is a powerful emotion for Eljin, he falls hard and deep and has his eyes set exclusively on who he is courting. Code of Chivalry
Eljin follows a personal code based off of the Code of Chivalry from the Song of Roland, save for the more religious aspects. Though Eljin may stray from this code at times, he tries to live by it.
To serve the liege lord in valour and faith To protect the weak and defenceless To give succour to widows and orphans To refrain from the wanton giving of offence To live by honour and for glory To despise pecuniary reward To fight for the welfare of all To obey those placed in authority To guard the honour of fellow knights To eschew unfairness, meanness and deceit At all times to speak the truth To persevere to the end in any enterprise begun To respect the honour of women Never to refuse a challenge from an equal Never to turn the back upon a foe
The legendary sword forged by Wayland the Smith, given to Charlemange by an angel and passed from Charles to the great paladin Roland. Eljin won the sword from Henry Curtmantel in the early 1200s after he stole it from a chapel The sword is white steel was a gold hilt containing a tooth from Saint Peter, the blood of Saint Basil, strands of hair from Saint Denis, and a piece of the robe worn by Saint Mary. It is embellished with rubies.
Durandal can cut through anything and is indestructible. If, however, a divine force were to intervene, Durandal could be stopped and even broken.
Can cause permanent damage to fae. Misneach (MISH-nock) A large, two handed sword that when held hilt facing up looks much like a cross. The hilt is a bright metal with a Rose Quarts laid into the rain guard. A shield cannot be used with this sword. When Misneach damages an opponent, it repairs it’s wielder. As Eljin slashes through enemies, he appears more vital with each victory when wielding Misneach and is less likely to tire. +1 Auto-Heal, if a 4-6 is rolled on a dice check, when Eljin depletes another’s health with this sword. (Health Cap: 3) Draíocht (DREE-oct) A slight, simple sword that, upon creation, was dipped in a poppy and aster infusion. The cross guards are rather short on this sword, but the blade is long and slightly curved, having a bluish hue, especially in moonlight. The wielder of this sword moves silently and appears to blink in and out of vision. When wielding this sword, Eljin makes no sound, even when burdened with armour. For one turn, he may turn invisible and move about the area. Saoi (SEE) A short sword with a floral mosaic of eyebright on the pommel and rubbed with an oil of eyebright and eucalyptus. The edge of the blade is tinged a warm green, as it is infused with a salve of bay leaf. An unassuming sword that can gain knowledge of it’s opponents. When wielding this sword, Eljin can read the weaknesses and strengths of his opponent(s). With a taste of their blood, the sword may also transmit the thoughts of that person to Eljin.
Disclaimer: Will not be used without direct consent of the character's roleplayer. Uisce (ISH-ka)
An average sword in all ways, aside from the iridescent way it catches light from the Opal crushed into the metals it has been forged with. At the end of the pommel is a full opal, and on the rainguard carved the nauthiz rune.
A sword than can transform at the will of its wielder.
When wielding this sword, Eljin can change the shape of it to that of another melee weapon at will. These transformations must be to something Eljin has wielded before, such as a mace or a spear. The weapon retained the opal iridescence, the full opal on the end, and the rune
ArmourThe Swan Knight Armor
Made of Mithral and Gold with a pair of decorative wings sculpted on the sides of the helmet and a mosaic of swans peacefully floating in a pond on the plackart.
The wearer of this armour has amplified glamour, making them able to appeal to a wide variety of people, both aligned and not aligned with the wearer. Those in battle with him while he wears this armour will be charmed to battle more honourably.
In the armor, Eljin appears as lovely and graceful. He will wear this armor going into battle and for events, most usually. The Shield Knight Armour
A bulky armour made of Adamantine. On the left forearm of the armour is a large, flat plate, not unlike a small shield. The armor is pure black, but has a green sheen under candlelight, and a purple-white sheen under magic radiance, like the light of a will-o-wisp.
The wearer of this armour has amplified defense for him and up to one of his allies. In this armor, Eljin is ready to protect those he fights a long side.
+1 on Defense rolls against Weapon and Unarmed attacks for Eljin and one ally. Eljin has resistance to poison. The Resilient Knight Armour
Made of Platinum with four gems embedded in a triangle pattern on the breastplate. A topaz at the top, an emerald on the left, garnet on the right, and sapphire on the bottom.
The wearer of this armour is protected against Air, Earth, Fire, and Water based elemental attacks. In this armour, Eljin is ready to face what the natural world can throw at him.
+1 to Defense rolls against Elemental Attacks based in Air, Earth, Fire, and Water. Eljin is resistant to chemicals such as acid when in this armour. The Inquisitor’s Armour
Made of Titanium and Silver. This armour has protective runes etches along every piece. Shines dully even in the dark.
The wearer of this armour is protected by holy forces.
In this armour, Eljin shines even in the darkest cave. Vampires and shadows alike find it difficult to be near Eljin.
+1 to Defense rolls against Undead and Dark creatures.
About the Author...
OOC ALIAS: LORISA
Posted: Apr 7 2018, 01:32 PM
26 • Human • Ships • Japan
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