Post by Maranwë Yávëtil on Jan 5, 2012 9:23:50 GMT -5
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>> with an ease that was so simple, could Maranwë bring misfortune to those she came across. It was an easy thing, to swing a sword the another's chest or a knife to another's throat. These had come to be many times throughout Maranwë's travels. She herself has killed many times in her life, and now what had followed her on her way was something people truly feared, but had died along with many other viruses that could cause the most damage to any being even related to mortal. A disease most nobody whom it came across survived. The sorrow and pain from the dying families were a beautiful song to her, and nothing could cease this reign of terror.
>> maranwë held a graceful look: her thin and refined features combined with her prowess and knowledge. Her clothing were loose and allowed for movement, and her nails were long and more pointed than one would seem. Her hair was pure black and feathered, truly appearing to be small, long feathers: and maybe they were. Who knew, really? Maranwë's eyes were a metallic golden yellow color, and sometimes the iris extended from their designated area out to the cornea, to make her eyes appear almost bird or cat-like, with her pupils that grew from slits out to full circles that appeared to mimic the moon.
Although her features were refined and beautiful, there was something about her that was off-setting. Maybe her eyes, the way the watched everything and were wary of all, or maybe it was her presence in itself. After all, she did not blame others for keeping well away from her.
>> the raven had been traveling when she ended up in this part of the country, and she stayed in a hotel for quite some time. Now, she was on her way again and it was a strange person she had first come across. She had witnessed the man leap down towards the ground and landed silently without emitting even a whispered noise. Immediately after he landed Maranwë stood from where she was sitting and silently ran with great speed towards him. Her golden eyes were wide-open and watchful, and her feathery black hair flowed in the wind despite being pulled up. Nobody would have turned their gaze her way as she crossed the streets. Nobody heard any noise to turn their head to in the first place.
>> at Maranwë's waist a longsword was tied in it's sheath. It was elven made, which was clear in the design of the sheath and hilt. The pommel held a black, clear gem that shone brilliantly as the sun hit it. She withdrew her sword and, interestingly enough, the blade as it moved left behind a blur of white, almost as if it weren't entirely in one spot. It was a strange effect, clearly created with her powers as a mage and the crystal at the pommel. She held it surely, and her steps were swift as she ran to the person. However, her interest did not seem to fall on them...
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(The posts referring to thr other person talk about a male, meaning that I would prefer a male character to post. But, if none do, you are interested in posting, and your character is female, just go right ahead.)
