Hilteliren
For over a century Hilte has lived a simple life within the Falwood. Mostly keeping to herself, she passes the days making medicinal remedies, meditating on her past, and visiting with the human denizens of the nearby Hamlet of Crue. It was there that began her life anew and in the woods she heals the wounds of her past. From time to time she freelances as a monster slayer just to keep the dust from settling too much.
Appearance
Unmistakable to any as an elf and rarely identified as what she truly is, Hilte boasts shortly shorn hair so blond as to be white and features of weathered and world-weary beauty. Unlike most of her kin however, her eyes are now a curious shade of vibrant purple.
She wears neutral colours of heavy linen robes for the majority of the time. On her she carries a staff formed of old growth wood whereupon the symbols and sigils of her faith have been carved and a hand-woven ribbon of multiple colors weighted by beads at the end loosely hangs. The staff goes with her, as does her faith, and through it conducts the power of her belief and the might of her bridled grief and unsung fury.
When the threat of the wicked and dastardly require it, Hilte dons layers of worn leather armor bleached to the color of bone, complete with a masking helm carved in the image of an owl.
Just beyond the garden fence of her remote forest home, an effigy of a long lost warrior. There beneath it, buried in a wooden coffin rests a short sword, a larger sword, and a shield. The larger of the swords is one crafted in the crystalline forges of Sharyrdaes, where the imbuement of steel and crystal and magic takes place. When not in its sheath, the crystal laced throughout it emits a gently pulsing luminescence.
She wears neutral colours of heavy linen robes for the majority of the time. On her she carries a staff formed of old growth wood whereupon the symbols and sigils of her faith have been carved and a hand-woven ribbon of multiple colors weighted by beads at the end loosely hangs. The staff goes with her, as does her faith, and through it conducts the power of her belief and the might of her bridled grief and unsung fury.
When the threat of the wicked and dastardly require it, Hilte dons layers of worn leather armor bleached to the color of bone, complete with a masking helm carved in the image of an owl.
Just beyond the garden fence of her remote forest home, an effigy of a long lost warrior. There beneath it, buried in a wooden coffin rests a short sword, a larger sword, and a shield. The larger of the swords is one crafted in the crystalline forges of Sharyrdaes, where the imbuement of steel and crystal and magic takes place. When not in its sheath, the crystal laced throughout it emits a gently pulsing luminescence.
Skills and Abilities
In a past life she could have spoken of many glorious accolades.
Today she focuses on the cultivation of a medicinal herb garden, the ability to befriend the fauna around her, and the curation of seemingly endless patience.
Today she focuses on the cultivation of a medicinal herb garden, the ability to befriend the fauna around her, and the curation of seemingly endless patience.
Personality
Humbled more than ever before, frigidity had been replaced with a quiet consideration of others. Though still mostly reticent and not given to unecessary banter, this is more a side effect of her isolation from others than any disdain for conversation. Hilte views the world now through a new set of eyes that are keen on the curiosities she'd often overlooked before.
A smile comes more easily when reflecting on past mistakes or wrongs, and patience is readily within reach when tested by the world within which she now finds herself. Notably, the confidence she'd always carried never left her and she moves through every landscape with a presence that often suggests to others that Hilte could be a rarified gift or an unsavory omen.
A smile comes more easily when reflecting on past mistakes or wrongs, and patience is readily within reach when tested by the world within which she now finds herself. Notably, the confidence she'd always carried never left her and she moves through every landscape with a presence that often suggests to others that Hilte could be a rarified gift or an unsavory omen.
