[ Characters ]
Lengte: 5' 7'' (170 cm)
Gewicht: 128 lb
Uiterlijk: Donkerblond schouderlang haar, bruin-groene ogen, licht gebruinde huid.
Pilin, the oldest wood elf from a family of five, was a free spirit. He was quite long for an elf, probably a reminiscent from his half-elf father, Sarn, and apt with a bow and arrow: his smaller brother Doron and his sister Anivor would ask him to shoot difficult things, like an apple in a faraway tree. Often, he’d hit on the first try, which got an amazed response from Doron and Ivor. Those times things were simple, and it still made him smile if thinking about it.
Pilin was often found on his own, outside of the clan. He'd be gone for some time, towards the forest edge, stealthily hunting humans who went to deep into the forest in search of large trees to cut down, or shy animals to hunt. Other times he'd travel deeper into the woods to practice his skills, and to explore the curiosities which surfaced now and then. Unusual things happened to him: sometimes if he concentrated enough when on his own, he seemed to get supernatural accuracy. Other times, for example when foraging, he'd get a bad feeling about a plant he had never seen before. Inquiry with the herbal master of the clan learned that the plant was poisonous. Deep in the forests he met other clans of elves, and got to know druids and their ever-present animal companions. He became known to them as the wanderer of the trees.
After those days of absence, he'd track back the group, following their trail. He'd gotten pretty good at that. When he was younger, he'd have trouble finding their trail after half a day, whereas now he'd be gone for a few nights and have no trouble with it.
Last time when he got back, his grandfather Faer, the clan leader, had been waiting for him. He was the one whom he probably got his unusual events from, since he was the only sorcerer in the clan. Yet Pilin experienced it differently. His grandfather would do things which could be described as using the power, wielding it with a flick of his fingers, whereas to him it felt more like he could gently apply the forces toward his goal. Maybe it was a lack of experience, or a difference in character. He had no ambition to become the clan leader like his grandfather had, rather he wanted to explore the limits of his abilities; attune to his powers and fine-tune his skills.
So here it was, the moment which would change his life. He had been expecting it for a while now, with mixed feelings. Nearing the age of 110, it would be time for his initiation. He'd be given a task to complete, and if he succeeded, he could finally call himself adult. The task was different for everyone, and some took a long time before they came back.
After hearing about his task, he didn't wait long. Within a handful of suns, he had collected the necessary gear for this perilous job. After waving his family and the rest of the clan goodbye, he rode off, towards the beginning of the rest of his life.
OOC Dit weten jullie niet.