Twén Aråerwén~ Ifer’hém~ Undertaker

Name: Twén Aråerwén

Occupation: Undertaker, Fire Necromancer ~ Lvl VIII

Gender: Female

Race: Elf

Tribe: Ifer’hém (Royal Lineage)

Age: 245

Age by Appearance: 26

Approximate Lifespan: 500

Height: Near one and three-quarter ped (A bit small for her tribe. 5’6”)

Weight: 107 Od

Eye Color: Metallic Grey

Hair Color: Waist length cascade of curls, the hues of woven gold.

Title: Death's Mistress

(¯`•._.•´¯)Description(¯`•._.•´¯)

Appearing to be about twenty-six years old in human years she looks almost childlike to many, Twen’s minute stature merely enhancing this perspective. Primordial stormy gray eyes belying this youthful exterior are usually filled with a mischievous gleam, accentuated frequently by an impish smile upon crimson lips. The elf’s elongated ears often flitter about as she endeavors to listen in on everything uttered in her presence. Five earrings descend in size to the very tip of the mage’s pointy right ear; all of them silvery hoops encrusted with icy blue stones. A perky yet slightly upturned nose is poised flawlessly on her eloquent countenance. Whilst delicate cheekbones frame her eyes and nose with articulate perfection.

Unblemished skin the color of the finest porcelain, coupled with a lithe form grants the mage an exceptionally fragile appearance. Many immediately get the inkling that to touch the mage would cause her to splinter, like a fine piece of glass under the harsh hands of an Ogre. Extensive curls, the colors of spun gold, cascade to respite just below her lithe waistline, usually stones the hue of crystalline blue ice are woven in a mesh akin to a spider’s web throughout them. At times these bountiful tresses stray to rest over ancient metallic eyes, veiling them in deep shadows. It has become customary for the elfess to be in a constant state of brushing them to rest behind her ears, so as to keep Twen’s line of sight clear of obstructions.

Deep crimson robes with gleaming silvery stars in the fabric’s depths are draped over her agile form. The starlight illusion within this garment is actually tiny strands of silver woven into the cloth, giving the impression of a karikrimson sky speckled with constellations. They surge to relax just a nailsbreadth above the ground, with but an occasional hint of her nimble feet in obsidian, low cut boots revealed beneath the flowing attire. Eight nor’sidian bracelets line Twen's petite left wrist, each bracelet twisted and perverse with Necromantic runes. These are actually insignias of the Necromancer’s rank amongst her brethren and are worn at all times. Not only as adornments but also as beacons to her fellows of who she is.

A short sword is sheathed in a scabbard of glimmering hoarfrost blue feathers upon her dainty back. The hilt is encrusted with ice sapphires, each of them flawless and beautiful in their own right, identical to those weaved eloquently into her flowing locks. It is a rarity to see the weapon drawn from its scabbard and even more infrequent for it to be removed as a utensil of war. The sword is a relic of the elf’s family and is carried out of love, more than any practical purpose. One can effortlessly tell with an undemanding glance that the weapon is of elven design and exceptional quality.

When at pristine gatherings the elf wears a somewhat formal obsidian black dress, it is in truth two separate pieces. First piece is a tunic that is full arm length, showing much of her porcelain like skin amongst the intricate lace pattern. The design on the tunic is of black phoenixes with wings outstretched. The tunic rides high, only a nailsbreadth beneath her subtle chin and is embroidered with hoarfrost blue birds. Insignificant azure stones hang from a multitude of cloth strands about the wrists, ranging from 2-5 nailsbreadths in length. Three large stones similar to those upon the wrists are used as buttons upon the back. The skirt is form fitting the length of petite thighs, ending just above the knees. Elongated strands comparable to those about her wrists hang from the bottom of the obsidian skirt, frosty azure stones woven into their ends.

A scar from a Coórhém assassin’s dagger, upon her back, only four nailsbreadths up from Twen’s curvaceous waistline is the largest mar on the elf's nearly flawless skin. Displayed on her left hand and wrist are supple scratch marks, no more than a nailsbreadth long, left there by Fizzle. He may be a Ximaxian Cat but Fiz does get feisty at times, especially when in heat. The animal is a constant companion for the elfess, if not found coddled in her affectionate grasp, he is most definitely not far from the mage.

(¯`•._.•´¯)Personality(¯`•._.•´¯)

Twen's bearing is teeming with self-confidence and each word spoken over supple lips is almost like frozen knives upon the ears of folks that take note. This self-confidence is more a feigned shield to shield her from the harsh realities of her life. A warm and truly caring soul until the elf’s time amongst the Coor’hem caused her to become twisted from the abuses she sustained at their hands. The teachings of her Necromantic mentor only magnified these already frayed ends of the mage’s sanity. An affectionate and more caring soul sometimes sheds its light upon the darkness that permeates her being, yet these moments continue to become more fleeting as the decades pass.

The mage's mind is ever inquisitive when others have a discussion regarding natural science, anatomy, necromancy and magic in general. At these times she remains attentive and can be an exceptionally sharing soul. Even going so far as to disregard what others say, continuing to steer the subject matter back onto these topics. This has frequently caused others to become very irritated at the mage. Although for those that heed the elf’s words commonly find a fountainhead of constructive information to be garnered.

A pervasive fear of death is very evident in all she does and is the leading factor in what Twen has become. In her own mind she identifies herself to be seeking eternal life via an in-depth study of how death comes about. In places and at times where death is part of the conversation she takes on a near morbid interest for the most minute of details. Bafflingly the elf never seems to not recall tidbits of information gathered on this subject matter and is probably an educated researcher when it comes to Queprur’s Realm. “Know your enemies, for yee can never be sure of the grounds yee shall face them on.”

In the middle of genuine friends her behavior melts swiftly to that of what she once was. Profoundly, under the horrors of it all, she is a whimsical and very shy soul with a sense of humor that has become increasingly dark over time. Twen’s friend Halatir and twin sister, Shailiha, are probably the lone individuals that witness these remnants of centuries long since gone in the elf. To others she seems aloft and secluded with very slight anxiety of whom they are or what they have to say. Most of the ‘lesser’ races annoy the ancient elfess to no end, yet they never cease to astonish her and to this day she has found a few to befriend.

There are only a few things that convey tranquility to the Necromancers troubled soul. Most notable of these are the presence of her closest friends and the sounds of an exceptional musical performance. Without fail a catchy tune or divine instrumental will keep her transfixed upon it as the mage’s mind wanders back to the Crystalwoods and a life long forgotten. A world of childhood security and the freedom her spirit felt in those brief decades of life. Twen’s feigned smile is always replaced with a genuine grin when observing a harmonious presentation. Occasionally bringing tears to solemn metallic eyes whilst applauding loudly for all those involved.

Even with all this said about the mage, she will at most times attempt to behave in whatever conduct the Necromancer thinks will persuade confidence and trust from those about her. This is an ever-present aspect of her personality, which is basically a self defense mechanism she uses to try and fit in with others. Just because she is peculiar does not mean she enjoys the loneliness such a life has created.

(¯`•._.•´¯)Strengths(¯`•._.•´¯)

Decisive: The mage exhibits an uncanny strength of self-discipline from copious decades of focusing under the touch of fire. The dismal situations that Necromancy has required of her, frequently leaves Twen aloft to even the most horrid of events about her. These settings leave the Necromancer only a tad shaken but still exceptionally focused upon the events taking place around her. Such a strong mind is often two-steps ahead of Twen herself. As she endeavors to remain with the rush of thoughts that habitually keep the mage ahead of her opponents.

Death's Mistress: A masterful control of the element of fire in addition to Twen's foremost focus in the Necromantic arts lends her vast strength in the manipulations of fire within the car’all. If not for her morbid practices she could have effortlessly become a teacher of such magic within the school of Ximax. The study of the dead and dying gives her a remarkable understanding of anatomy, which converse to her desires can help her in the aiding of others. The creation of her own incantations have become near commonplace as the mage continues to increase in supremacy amongst her field.

With Twen's dedication in the Necromantic arts she has excelled in numerous necromantic and emotion controling incantations, several to an awe-inspiring level. Holding the power of an 8th level magus in her morbid craft, viewed with admiration by those that have met the elf and understand the proficiency with which she manipulates these aspects of fire. Such training caused many to consider her near a master of Necromancy, although with this domination came the cost of her expertise in other facets of fire. (Note: Her weaknesses in other Spheres of fire are listed within the magical skills section.)

Nimble: An intuitive agility when facing armed opponents has saved the mages life on more than one occasion. When in opposition to these types of enemies her agility and magic combined present a daunting foe to be faced. This skillfulness was effortlessly noted by her father in his hours of teaching the basics of melee combat to her. The harsh living amongst the Coor’hem enhanced this nimbleness to extraordinary levels, as she was instructed for near five decades in the arts of stealth. Training as a mage only enhanced Twen’s quickness, making her more flexible and wiry from the innumerable gestures taught to her. This natural dexterity makes her a beautiful sight to behold upon a dance floor, making her the target of more than one suitor’s affections.

Tend the Sick: Such an immense study in the arcane arts, with her specialty in Necromancy, has taught the mage great skill in analyzing wounds and diseases in most sentient creatures. For instance: She could without difficulty tell how old an injury is and what style of weapon or object was used to mete out such a wound. Analyzing infections and their extent of damage to a person would be an undemanding equation for her to ascertain with a simple glance. This also affords her a fair knowledge in the treatments of these wounds, making her an excellent healer even on a mundane level.

Mortician: A great familiarity with the dead and decomposing bodies has also allowed her to be accurate in determining the time and cause of death in the most casual of observations. Easily ascertained by the extent of decay, fungi and insects already upon a corpse. Many of these things can be harmful or fatal as well and has taught her the careful handling of these fungi. Twen can cultivate them into various forms of toxin, to be used effectively in the destruction of her opponents.

(¯`•._.•´¯)Weaknesses(¯`•._.•´¯)

Frailty: Diminutive to an extreme would be a reasonable observation of Twen, even more so than most elves. What minute strength she has is lithe and quick but her overall strength is minuscule, to put it lightly. Even the rigors of carrying her own possessions on an extended trek, would be exhausting for her to accomplish. Often times this leaves the elf with no other than the bare minimums upon her person, given that she is powerless to carry anything beyond this.

Self-Centered Spoiled: The mage's self-centered nature is almost disgusting at times to those around her. Twen's thoughts on most plebian issues revolve exclusively about how they pertain to her. A pampered lifestyle added even more of a regal demeanor to an already sickening personality. This usually causes others to view her as nothing more than a spoiled child, which she is in many ways. This attitude has made others shun her, on more than a few occasions, which only saddens her spirit even more. Repeatedly this has brought about deep bouts of melancholy and causes the elf to notice nothing going on about her. The mage becomes lost in the chaos she believes to be her own failings, spending hours weeping over things she can not change.

Looming Death: The leading cause of whom and what the mage has become would have to be her ever-present fear of dying. These fears have grown in strength since she was nearly killed by a Coor’hem assassin nearly two centuries ago. Visions of the icy hands of Queprur pulling her into darkness often fill the mage’s mind when such dangers are near. It has also caused others to perceive her as a coward or weakling as she would simply watch a battle. This fear has not become mind chilling for the mage as of yet, but she has hesitated before helping others, rarely waiting until it is too late, at least for those she cares about. The elf is no fool and many times attempts to ally with powerful warriors when she fights, she will make continuous efforts to befriend them. This is in her mind creating a shield between her and potential danger, as Twen would say, “Better them than me.” She has met a good friend in this way on occasion, though many begin to see the darker side of their new found friend in short order.

Fanaticism: The elf is fanatical when it comes to organization, easily falling into the realm of an obsessive personality trait. Every personal item in her home and on herself is organized in a specific order. If any of these things become disorganized she will spend large amounts of time returning things to “normal”. This is a by product of her evaluating enemies and organizing the farce that is her life, so that others do not see through the façade Twen has built around her persona. This can be readily apparent to anyone that has visited her, for she tediously keeps every object in her home in its proper place. Even a casual visitor will cause the elf to go over much of it, returning items to their appropriate spots.

Mommy Loves Her Best: Her friend Halatir and sister Shailiha mean everything to the mage, they are that which holds the elf to sanity at most times. If either of them were placed in harms way or taken forcibly by Twen's enemies, she would be driven to insane levels in seeking vengeance. Doing whatever would be required to bring them to safety, even if that meant sacrificing her life for theirs. As the mage would put this, “Shailiha is the light of our mother’s heart.” Since Twen knows that her sister has become what their mother had always dreamt for them both.

Frayed Ends of Sanity: A devotion to the element of fire has formed a chasm between Twen and her mother, or so the elf’s twisted mind imagines. A rift that the mage fears will never be closed, which due to her own foolishness, makes her feel unwanted and often times frowned upon in her families eyes. Yet another blow that drives her melancholy to unhealthy levels, like this would be needed since she borders on suicidal as it is. If not for her overwhelming dread of death she might have done this long ago.

(¯`•._.•´¯)History(¯`•._.•´¯)

Born upon the thirteenth day of Dál'injerá, the 6th Santharian Calendar month, in the year 1420 A.S. Raised the youngest child of Morgoniel (Mother) a practitioner of the arts of wind magic, a graduate of Ximax. and Nilcirion Aråerwén (Father) a master swordsman in the service of the Ifer’hém. With an identical twin sister named Shailiha, completing all that remains of the Aråerwén family. They resided in an elaborate town hidden in the depths of the Crystalwoods of Nybelmar.

Her earliest days amongst the Ifer’hém were spent studying the history of her people. With small stints of weapon training from Nilcirion, more often than not the fundamentals of defense and avoidance. Many of Twen's family said she was the reincarnation of her grandmother, Sharazad. For she had a serene and almost intuitive voice for the songs of her forefathers. Morgoniel tried for sometime to have her taught in the arts of music, yet she never had an affinity for the intricacies of the instrumental arts. The elf's frailness left minute expectation of her ever being astute in the martial skills.

Shailiha and Twen spent many a long summer in the Crystalwoods pretending to be historical figures thay had read about in their family’s library. The girls on more than one occasion had wandered so far in their revelry that they would be forced to stay in the woods over night, not something greatly appreciated by their family. But the twin's fanciful side never let the punishment they received hinder their future adventures. A tenacity to be care free was ever evident, often times overriding their courtly manners. Two days spent in the woods climbing trees, playing in creeks and getting into hidey holes they could find did little good for the superior gowns the two frequently wore.

As the twins got older their lives became a flurry of activity between their studies, travels, forays into the woods and the occasional visit from suitors. It was hard to fathom when the young ladies found time to rest with such profuse amounts of activity filling near every waking moment of their lives. During these times the young elves figured out that they could be in two places at once, not a hard task when most everyone could not distinguish between them.

If a particular suitor, one either of the girls had an interest in would visit, the other would simply fill in at any previous engagements. Even pulling this charade upon particular suitors that did not interest the twin they had come to see. Though the ladies would never admit trading places under these pretenses, it did happen fairly frequently. But such activities would be considered very unladylike and of course never practiced by such esteemed lasses. ~Twen whistling innocently~

In the year 1449 A.S., a small group of Coor’hem elves came to visit Twen's family. Their purpose was to offer the Aråearwén family a unique opportunity for their children to be trained in a special program. The Coor’hem knew that the Ifer’hem elves made truly great assassins and with the pure bloodlines of Twen's family, their desire was to make an elite force. Nilcirion measured the offer to be a grand boon to the family’s prestige, accepted the offer in hope his daughters would excel and augment the family’s name.

Twen entered the curriculum of the Coor’hem with the desire to learn stealth and the subtle arts of deception. Much of her training was arduous and physical in nature, especially the climbing skills needed for covert actions. Grens't, her teacher during this time, saw Twen as more a liability and forced endless physical training upon her. Continued failures to meet his expectations only caused the elf more pain and mental abuse from him.

The endless drudgery of this was slowly destroying Twen's normally warm and open heart, forcing it to become withdrawn to hide the suffering this caused her. The only solace she had in these times was the training her father had given her. In the beginning she was more skilled with the blade than many of the other students, yet even this was not enough to satiate Grens't's disdain for her.

The failings of Twen during this era earned the loathing of other students that would be paired with her on educational missions. The only other student outside of Shailiha that showed any effort to soothe her tortured soul was, Halatir. Because he saw that this place and these things were not what the elf was meant for. On missions in which she was coordinated with Halatir, he would support the elfess through the physical portions and her innate affinity for deception made them a treacherous match up. So is the commencement of what would be a companionship that has lasted for near two centuries and continues to grow.

In the year 1460A.S, the students of this honored program were permitted a small and infrequent hiatus from their education. Twen, Shailiha and Halatir decided a bit of carousing would be in order. After a brief discussion they all decided to meet at the Wounded Dragon Inn just after sunset. This allowed the trio a bit of time to visit family and take care of a small amount of personal agendas. The hour swiftly approached and the elf was making her way by foot to the establishment, as Injera's last rays danced about on the leaves of the sylvan pathway. The secluded path wound through the forests of Nybelmar, one which the trio used habitually, for it was the quickest route to their families’ homes.

A gentle rustle of leaves separating as a sharp sting struck Twen at the base of her back. Atrey'u, a Coor’hem student based in the same program that was training Twen, leaned in to whisper softly to her. “Your weakness is demeaning and has no worth amongst us any longer.” The words falling short, a retched sound of tearing flesh echoed through her mind as the murderer twisted the blade in her back.

Twen slumped to the earth upon her delicate hands, the stabbing pain overcoming her senses. Knowing this was the conclusion she prepared for the finishing blow to be struck. Yet only the resounding thud of Atrey'u's body hitting the ground beside her came to pass. Raising metallic gray eyes, she saw only blurred visions of Halatir rushing to aid her. The events that came to pass over the next few days are utterly lost in pain and the will to live for the elf.

Nilcirion knew that such an act could have only been sanctioned via the Coór'hém, decided upon the only itinerary he fathomed would keep his daughters alive. The Ifer'hém had already come to the brink of extinction under the weight of Coór'hém brutality. The elder was not going to let his daughters fall prey to the savages his people had come to rely upon.

Rapidly he assembled equipment, the monetary funds necessary and set his children on the pathway to Ximax. Halatir joined the sisters in their departure, having minute doubts that the Coór'hém would sooner have him killed than listen to his excuses for the death of one of their own. The journey was long and arduous that took the trio near a year to accomplish even with a map and the coin to ease their course.

The first few days of the voyage Twen has no recollection of simply hazy visions and blurred nightmares. These events came to be the most defining moments of her life, suffering from delusions of icy hands pulling her into darkness and torment. Such horrors still haunt the elf to this day, changing the young elf on a mental and spiritual level for all the days that have followed.

The year 1461A.S, Halatir, Twen and her sister entered the acclaimed school of Ximax. After but a few years it was self-evident that the elf had found the place she had so long sought to be part of. Taking vast interest in the element of fire she studied diligently for many decades to come. The realm of fire matched what she had become to near perfection. A maelstrom raged within her from the deception and attempt on the elf's life, causing Twen to be distant from all those outside of the original traveling companions.

Over time her aptitude made her into a teachers pet. The mage would stay long hours helping or assisting many other students and teachers in the exploration of their craft. These times being nothing more than her own desire to learn and to gain favor from those about her. Upon one such occasion Alistarr, a very reclusive but knowledgeable mentor of Twen's petitioned for her aid after hours. Gladly accepting the chance to once again please her teachers, she happily stayed. Alistarr's focus for the evening was the Sphere of Inflamement, an aspect of fire that Twen had shown a great understanding of.

Alistarr seemed to take pleasure in Twen's interest and began a long and daily regiment of exploring this Sphere with the elf. So began the dabbling of her psyche in all things Necromantic even her personality grew a bit twisted. This caused many of the other students within the School of Fire to take even greater efforts to shun her already arrogant presence. This was but another blow to the young mage, leading her further from the closeness of others.

The coming centuries led the elf down many a strange pathway, even more out of the ordinary than most practitioners of magic. Her Necromantic teacher began to take the young elf with him to the entombment of the recently deceased, explaining much about what was observed afterwards. Even allowing the mage to preside over such gatherings at times, though always under Alistarr’s guiding hand. This taught Twen many rituals associated with various tribes and the things needed to keep such proceedings well presented.

Over time Alistarr began to be a prominent figure in many funeral rites and the preparations for the unfortunate souls that had passed on. At times he was teaching the young elf the workings of Necromancy upon the recently deceased in the late hours of groundwork for burial. Though the youthful mage’s fizzles had on more than one incident required a memorial service to become closed casket due to horrible burning of the body. She learned rapidly in the upcoming decades finding numerous ways to veil the less than savory practices she would work upon the departed loved ones. Alistarr’s special treatment never wavered far from his prodigy, ensuring that such dark performances never came to light.

Scores of decades in these practices lent the elf a lot of skill in addressing the families of the deceased. Such knowledge caused her to be asked for by name quite frequently, a friendly demeanor and vast knowledge inspiring trust from the families of various cultures. Never giving a hint of the shadowy aspects of the lovely elf’s personality or the sickening acts she committed upon the dead. Her mentor constantly stressing the point to hold her tongue on such matters outside of those he deemed worthy. This left Twen with almost no one to consort with on such dealings, another aspect of her life that has driven her further away from people in general.

Over a century long tutelage in these arts introduced Twen to a few of her mentors other pupils, relatively late at night under the shroud of obscurity. Never would these other necromantic practitioners give their names even through lengthy discussions amongst them. Quickly the elf began to realize that Alistarr and she seemed to be among the only elves conveying useful information on this weird art. More regularly than not they were the ones speaking while others would listen intently taking extensive notes and occasionally elaborating on particularly complex subject matter.

More than one generation of human delvers in this abnormal craft passed among the shadows of night to speak with Twen over these extensive decades. The affectionate nickname “Death’s Mistress” began to surface during these times as Alistarr endeavored with great pains to maintain her true identity secret from all others. Her tutor would encourage the maiden to sign all works in this particular field with this pen name as to keep her even further from detection, if such notations should ever be found by authorities. To this day the name has stuck with her as she is definitely noticeable amongst her craft. Elves among necromantic practices are rare but one that is beautiful, very talented and teeming with abundant amounts of information would be hard to mistake, even at a great distance.

1663A.S. in the month of the dead tree, Coór'pherán, Twen graduated from Ximax and set out once again with Halatir and her sister. Even with the passing of so many years she has little doubt that the hatred of a few Coor’hem lurk in the shadows of her homeland. Which breaks her heart even further for she no longer knows or can find out if her family yet lives.

The year 1663A.S, after long hours of study within the libraries of Ximax, the mage was near retiring for the evening. A soft “meow” interrupted her as she was replacing a few tomes in their appropriate places. Twen set about finding its source, behind a desk near the back of the library she found an ashen Ximax kitten lying next to its mother. Apparently childbirth had been to much for the elderly cat. Knowing that the animals' chances of survival were truly slim without aid from its mother, she kept it. Fizzle became an ever-present companion to her, even in late hours of study they can be seen together alongside the dwindling flames of expiring candles.

Nicknames:

Arilpra Harrenja

Amongst the dwarves she had met in Ximax, literally meaning: Twilight Elf (Derogatory translation of the word Elf.) This is not a name that is worn with pride nor is it one she enjoys hearing.

Melárcin'ránn

The name some elven tribes have given Twen after meeting the estranged mage, literally meaning: Shadowlike Female Sovereign. Most elves can easily perceive that she does not view the world exactly like they do.

Death's Mistress

This was given to her by other Necromancers upon meeting the ancient elf. Her knowledge of their craft and understanding of the undead leads them to think she is in league with death itself.

Ghun'Cha

She acquired this title from the orc mages of Ximax, literally meaning: The Cursed Female. They considered Twen to be cursed because of her magical lacking in many areas of fire.

Newt

A name that Shailiha and Halatir use occasionally to make fun of her, especially when in a teasing mood. This usually elicits a miniscule growl as the mage stomps off in a whiny fit, to the glee of her loved ones.

(¯`•._.•´¯)Fighting Style(¯`•._.•´¯)

Twen's early years of training in the martial forms of combat has enhanced her natural agility. Allowing her to dodge many attacks and remain focused in her summoning of Car'all in the heat of battle. A surprising tactic as she would dance away from a well aimed blade and unleash a counter offensive. Many foes do not anticipate a mage to retaliate at such a range, or to remain so unshaken under such events.

In combat with her arcane skills she is a destructive force to be reckoned with. Amongst her element she is considered to be one of the most volatile and cunning of opponents. Twen has an uncanny skill with her selection of incantations when faced with multiple opponents. An evident sign of her incisive mind being able to track and assess many aspects of a situation quickly.

A constant companionship with Halatir and Shailiha has taught them all a repertoire of skills. When they are confronted with obstacles or enemies and are coordinating together. They know each other’s reactions so well that they almost compliment one another in their castings. Very few opponents could attest for the lethality of these three well trained magi, as even fewer have survived to give testament to the onslaught of three elements raging chaos amongst their ranks.

Her skills in the routine forms of combat, with melee weapons, are exceedingly infinitesimal. The lone weapon she can wield is the shortsword and even this is greatly restricted with her low endurance. Twen's naturally high nimbleness aids her a bit in the parrying of incoming attacks yet she has almost no aptitude to launch counter strikes.

Beyond her defensiveness with the shortsword, the elf has no melee weapon skills whatsoever. Possibly she could use a bow to hunt food but could never use it effectively in a stressful situation. As the mage would say it, “It hurts my fingers to hold the darn thing like that.”

(¯`•._.•´¯)Magical Skills(¯`•._.•´¯)

An interest in the undead and her fear of death has caused a rather noticeable influence in the elf’s repertoire of invocations. Wielding most aspects of Necromancy and emotional manipulation characteristics of fire well within the Ximaxian understandings of Sphere I, II & III. This is a constantly expanding facet of her magic as she strives forever onward in an attempt to cheat the end that all things face.

Twen could control the dead bodies of approximately six enemies or friends as the case may be. Four of the corpses would be capable of fighting at a skill level comparable to her. The other two underlings would be able to wield weapons and fight on a superior level of expertise. The elf’s understanding of Sphere III allows her to use verbal commands to direct the actions of these two minions. The other four would follow along acting in cohorts with these two lead minions.

This gives Twen the ability to cast all of her spell repertoire with little regard to the underlings. Being able to strengthen, weaken, or gather fire ounía from around the minions or remove fire ounia from them with only the slightest amount of concentration. Causing the flames on them to burn brightly or extinguishing the physical flames upon the underlings virtually at will. Her minions could stray over 30 peds in their quest to carry out their mistress's wishes.

Usually playing upon the emotions of her adversaries to drive them into acts of violence. As they commence to harm one another, her power grows proportionately the longer a conflict wages onward. Much like a strategic game, the more pawns that fall the greater Twen’s advantage. Feigning fear and horror at the acts of violence going, as she slowly raises the fallen to aid in the defense of her friends.

If haste were needed she could raise the corpse of a fallen horse, using it as a tireless steed. Riding it for days with no need to stop for the beast’s upkeep, allowing her to cover great distances in a very short time. Only pausing occasionally to maintain the beast’s undead state before continuing on with an untiring charge. With proper care and diligent attention the elf could use the corpse of a fallen animal in this way for almost a week long journey.

With such a focus in Necromancy, many of the other aspects of fire seem to be forlorn for the mage. This has caused her to practice them on the level of a graduate from Ximax, in essence at the 6th level of ability. She has a competent understanding of Sphere I & II applications for these spells, definitely not on par with the mage’s grasp of Emotional Control and Necromantic arts. Still those accessible to the elf at this level are mainly focused in self-preservation (Healing), as her fear of death drives her to remain alive at all costs (A common trait amongst Necromancers in their search to lengthen their lives).

With her continued use and desire to manipulate fire in its aspect of life or better said the illusions of life. These gaps amongst her magical understandings will broaden and continue to do so throughout Twen’s life. Revealing copious amounts of her fascination with death and the nightmares that flicker upon the edges of her sanity. Since Twen’s near death at the hands of an assassin she truly believes that when she dies perpetual suffering awaits. Even though she has been taught otherwise since a small child, the nightmares that haunt almost every waking moment for near two centuries leave no doubts for her.

The elf has composed a small amount of personal incantations, but without a doubt more of these will come to pass. A genius driven with the belief that each day is her last, can accomplish much in the realms of magic especially when there is but one goal in sight. “Live on or fall into the icy grip of Queprur for all eternity.”

(¯`•._.•´¯)Possessions(¯`•._.•´¯)

1 ornate short sword sheathed upon her back. A sturdy blade that is well suited for use, contrary to it's ornate appearence.
10 pouches on a belt about her waist, containing many of her reagents. This is always worn and only removed while the mage sleeps in a place of relative safety.
1 rucksack that contains a weeks rations, a tinderbox, a water skin and a few items for grooming (Comb, makeup… ect)
2 pair of low soft boots, one a bright crimson in color and the other obsidian black.
1 leather outfit, miniskirt and very revealing top all bright crimson in color.
2 serrated daggers. Shaped in a wickedly curved style, one sheathed to each calf.

Robes of the Twinkling Stars
These fine clothes are a deep crimson in color; with a multitude of silvery strands sewn into them. When light sparkles over the surface of these flowing robes, the silvery threads give the illusion of shimmering stars enclosed in the fabrics depths. There is a plethora of small pockets all about the exterior and interior of them, which the elf uses to keep her reagents in. A flowing cowl, made of the same glistening textile, gives testament to the fact that these robes were indeed made for someone a bit larger than the diminutive elf that now wears them. The cloth itself is surprisingly cool in temperate climates and warm in frigid places, though the mage must also wear clothes beneath them to stay comfortably warm in such areas.

A grand seamstress definitely had a hand in the fabrication of this garment as they have shown very little wear for the length of time the elf has possessed them. The mage has never seen their like in all her years of travel, caring for them as a prized possession. They are also all that she has to remind her of the many decades spent with Alistarr, a graduation gift, and his unwavering guidance in the magic that has consumed the elf's lengthy life.

Rime Whisperer
The small blade that the mage has carried throughout most of her adult life is a work of art and most ancient in its origins. The sword spans just under a third of a ped in length and has kept a razor-like edge for the lengthy time Twen has possessed it, though her use of it has been exceedingly minimal. All along the length of the blade is etched a pattern of entwined branches, creating a very free-flowing intricate set of blood grooves. When light dances over the surface of the weapon a radiant tint of icy cobalt can be seen within the peculiar alloy.

The guard is forged to resemble the outstretched branches of some unknown, at least to Twen, tree. Blue sapphires are recessed into the engraving, very suggestive of fruit hanging from the vine. The hilt is wrapped in hoarfrost blue scales with flecks of gold discernible if the light shimmers over it properly. The pummel is a complex weave, of the same metal the blade is forged from, representing the root system of a great tree. A solitary frosty hued sapphire is knotted into the center of this elaborate network.

This weapon is only one of a paired set, Shailiha being in possession of the other. The girls could write volumes upon what they know of these weapons and their history amongst their family. Though the earliest mention of these blades that the girls can prove is near 5,000 years past but there are hints to the fact that the blades go back even further than this.

(¯`•._.•´¯)Companions(¯`•._.•´¯)

Fizzle:
A Ximaxian cat that is near five years old. He has long ashen gray hair overlaying a deep base of black and is reminiscent of the mundane manchon cats. Fiz has violet eyes and is very lazy, a pure example of a lap cat. He weighs near 25od and is not so nimble on his feet, when his feet can be seen through all the fur and the rest of him. Fizzle's laziness has its advantages as well, the main one being that his constant closeness to Twen has forged exceptional mental links between them. They understand each other on a level that often takes a lifetime for most to aquire. The elf is never without her furry companion and usually treats Fiz better than she does herself.

Blister:
A rustic brown mare clearly of Wainhorse decent, was just recently purchased in Ciosa and is Twen’s only means of traveling with any reasonable amount of luggage. The mount stands near fifteen hands at the shoulder and weighs nearly one hundred and forty Hebs, clearly finished growing at three summers of age. The horse is of typical swiftness, with immense stamina and an amazingly docile personality. The Necromancer aptly named the animal after riding it for a while and the retched blisters she received from doing so. The mare is outfitted with 2 large saddlebags with the basic bit, bridle and tackle.

(¯`•._.•´¯)Skills of Note(¯`•._.•´¯)

Other than those inherent to all Ifer’hem elves and those already listed above. The mage has a few skills above the norm for many people.

Having a twin sister does have its advantages, not the least of them being near someone that thinks much like you in everyday things. Being so close to her sister for most of their lengthy lives has manifested a few interesting things they can do.

For example the twins can converse in a bizarre language that they have spoken in since but a decade old. Shailiha and Twen made this language up as a mixture of old Styrash and Tharian dialects. Though they only speak it publicly when they wish to convene with each other and prying ears to not understand. Their dear friend Halatir understands and speaks much of the language as well, because he has been around it for well over two centuries.

Nothing works quite as nicely as being able to discuss people that interest them when they are sitting beside you. Inquisitive suitors are often greeted with inquiries of what they said with impish smiles and the occasional giggle.

The girls have at times thought about using this language as encoded messages to one another, but they believe it is to easily deciphered when written down. Though Halatir still protests, loudly, that it looks like a bunch of gibberish scribbled and that no sane person would figure it out.

Being identical twins the girls have at many times traded identities per'se. This has allowed them to appear in two places at the same time, which makes for a wonderful alibi to friends, family and teachers. Only intense scrutiny by close friends would divulge their exact identities if they actively sought to conceal this fact. Even this would be revealed exclusively by the different scars the girls have acquired over their lives. Halatir, Morgoniel and Nilcirion fill the short list of people capable of telling the difference between them on sight.

An utter fascination with death and all aspects of it has also lent the elf fair knowledge in most ceremonies pertaining to burials. As well as what is considered sacrosanct in the handling of the dead or dieing. This in no way has granted Twen the ability to speak these languages fluently but she does know alot of burial prayers for many races and tribes.

(¯`•._.•´¯)Occupation(¯`•._.•´¯)

As of yet she has had no need to take a mundane occupation but the mage is well suited for quite a few. Only time can tell in what direction Twen will choose in this area, for her resources are not endless, even though she is presently very comfortable with her wealth.