Lessil Ólerydien translates as “Snow-woman, Daughter of Dreams of Mountains”. Lessil is her adult name chosen when she reached 110 years. Her childhood name (by which she is still addressed by her family and Idhrethor in private) is Glingaerwen (The Sea Gleams in the Eyes of the Maiden), or Glin for short.
Idhrethor Midor has been Lessil’s steward her entire life. He is old, even for an elf, and has served Lessil’s family for hundreds of years. His family has served hers for generations. Due to his great age (670) and old injuries, he is no longer capable of fighting, though he still retains the elven grace and beauty. Instead, he serves her in the capacity in which he is still capable, seeing to her day-to-day needs.
Lessil is essentially Elven royalty. Her family has controlled the demense they and their community of Elves dwell in for thousands of years. Two generations previously, a powerful Elven mage joined thier community, eventually marrying Lessil’s grandmother and siring Lessil’s mother. As such, Lessil is a direct descendant of the mage and is held in great respect among her people and other Elves who she encounters. In human terms, she would be a princess.
Currently she is more-or-less running away from home. Travelling lightly (for her), she and Idhrethor are on a quest. She is seeking her grandfather in the hopes that he will instruct her in her magical heritage, and hopefully teach her to control her instincts. She left upon her quest without her family’s permission. As such, she tends to avoid speaking to other Elves until she ascertains whether or not they were sent by her family.
Lessil is unusual for an Elf. She is neither cold nor remote. She becomes passionate and heated over things she finds interesting. She doesn’t share the typical Elven attitude of looking down upon other races. In fact, she finds them fascinating and is always excited to have the opportunity to talk with them (much to the dismay of Idhrethor who constantly tries to reign in her “innappropriate” enthusiasm). She also has a short temper that doesn’t help her often haughty attitude. As she is royalty, she expects to be treated as such, even when the situation doesn’t merit it. Many have described her “as fiery as a human and as irascable as a dwarf!” She hopes that her grandfather will be able to help her contain her passions so that she will be able to become a more “proper” Elf.
Lessil Ólerydien munched happily on a sweet pastry as she stared intensely at the crowded bounty board posted in the small town of Silverymoon’s marketplace. Her breath plumed in twin spouts from her nostrils in the brisk morning air as she nibbled on the heavily frosted confection. Her bright golden blonde hair and delicate ears were covered by the deep green, embroidered cloak in which she was swathed. Standing as an obstruction to others wishing to crowd around the board, Idhrethor Midor stood behind his mistress’ back, scowling with crossed arms at those who tried to push in too close. Though old even for an Elf, Idhrethor was still tall and imposing, causing most to grant them both a wide passage. Lessil apparently failed to notice the forced courtesy commanded by her companion as she intently read the notices on the board.
“Look at this one, Candarian-heru!” she sang out over the hubbub, pointing toward the posting with one sticky finger as she half-turned toward the other Elf with whom they travelled. Candarian Soor’elen waited patiently far away from the surging throng surrounding the board and could barely hear her over the general commotion and clamor of the busy market.
Sighing, Candarian started to take a step toward the swirling morass of bodies, but then thought better of it. He raised his head, and called, “What…?” but his voice came out high and squeaky. Looking around to see if anyone had noticed, he coughed into his fist, and started anew. With lowered tones, he said as loudly as he could, “What have you found, Lessil-selde?”
Idhrethor winced and quickly grimaced at Candarian. He had once again inadvertently used the honorific for “girl” instead of “lady” which was usually a prelude to a lengthy tirade by Lessil on how she was not a child any longer for both of them and anyone else within hearing distance, conjoined with much finger shaking, pouting, and possibly foot stomping depending on her mood. Candarian hadn’t been travelling with them for long, but he should have already been familiar with her dislike for being called or treated like a child, though she had not been an adult long by Elven standards. Seeing Idrethor’s face, Candarian’s own mouth twisted as he prepared to endure her tirade. It was an amazement to him that anyone who disliked being called a child so much insisted on acting like one on such a regular basis.
Fortunately, Lessil seemed more engrossed in the posting and failed to notice the cause of Candarian and Idhrethor’s apprehension. Spinning, she walked happily though the chaotic mix surrounding her, untouched by all as though surrounded by a nimbus they could sense but not breach. Popping the last of the pastry in her mouth, she grabbed Candarian by the sleeve to pull him into the fray. Crumbs and frosting now decorated his once immaculate sleeve. In addition, he was being tugged through the milling mass of humans, dwarves, and gods knew what else pawing over the notice board. He quickly slipped his free hand toward his belt, trying to cover his spell book and purse at the same time with little success for either.
Lessil’s aura seemed to draw him in and include him in its protection as they arrived at the edge of the board untouched and un-harassed. She pulled him toward the posting she pointed to with her free hand.
“See!” she proclaimed proudly. “Gnomes! They need our help.” She turned and beamed up at him as proudly as though she had written the posting herself.
“I’m not certain that’s a good…,” Candarian began to say, until he glanced at Lessil hanging from his right arm. Looking down in her sweet, young face with those unusual sea blue eyes framed by delicate snow-frosted upturned eyebrows, her carefully sculpted, dainty upturned nose, and the lush rose-petal lips, Candarian felt the world tilt around him unexpectedly, and meekly said, “Alright, let’s go…” as his mind wondered just who was using his voice.
Fortunately, a voice of reason rose from behind them. “Lessil-heri, I do not believe this is a wise idea…” Idhrethor began. Internally, Candarian cheered and applauded.
“Nonsense, yerna malo (old friend), this is exactly the sort of thing we need to do to find my amil-atarni (mother’s father),” she turned, releasing her hold on Candarian who immediately found himself jostled by a Dwarf on his left who was rudely shoving toward the notice-board. Lessil continued uninterrupted and untouched, he noticed.
“My amil-atarni will not be just sitting around somewhere waiting for us to find him, he’ll be out performing valorous deeds for those in need, just like these Gnomes. Performing our own valorous deeds is the best chance we’ll have of finding him! Isn’t that right, Candarian-heru?”
Candarian was doing his dead-level best to extricate himself from the swirling mass of creatures surrounding him without actually touching any of the dirty denizens which was proving to be a very delicate task. As such he was too engaged to pay much attention to the question and absent-mindlessly answered politely, “Yes, Lessil-heri” as he stepped warily to the edge of the throng.
“You see, Idhrethor, Candarian-heru agrees with me!”
Glancing at Candarian with a slightly betrayed look, Idhrethor released a defeated sigh and said, “Yes, Lessil-heri.”
“Good, that’s settled then. Let’s go find this Briddick,” Lessil announced as she proudly walked out of the busy mass which parted before her with Idhrethor in her wake. Almost as if by magic, the mass of people seemed to appear before Candarian who was just a few steps behind, leaving him to delicately pick his way among them with expressions to pardon his passage.
As he strove to catch up to the pair dwindling in the distance of the marketplace, he could hear Lessil ask Idhrethor, “What is a Gnome, yerna malo?”
Elohim
