Damitha Daum

[damitha]

Name: Damitha Daum
Age: 77 years
Race: Elf
Occupation: Horse Trader
Allegiance: Du Weldenvarden

Physical Description: Sharp angular features give off the impression of a stern young woman and eyes the color of a stormy grey sea bring out a severe look. Raven locks drop from each side of her face, keeping her rosy complexion in a frame unless her hair is pulled back into a braid or just a simple bun. Like all elves Dami holds the etherreal beauty of all her kind yet she doesn't seem to notice or care. Dami's usual attire consists of some sort of breeches and a billowy shirt that leaves her enough room to work. Quick reflexes and superb arm and stomach strength are her physical attributes that differ from the rest of her kind. While each elf is strong, due to Dami's constant work with her horses she has come to have great balance.

Personality: When first glimpsed Dami might come across as haughty and arrogant. Her looks give her a kind of unapproachable look and when she really is concentrating it comes off tenfold. But truth be told Dami has all the patience in the world and then some. She rarely argues with people and is actually quite easy-going. She likes what she does and because of it she is stern and calming. Her whole attitude is actually quite docile and very polite. Her appearance gives her a bitchy look and people take it the wrong way, scoffing at her as if she was vain and greedy. But when Dami is working you really see who she is. Her soothing side comes out when a horse is frightened, her commanding presence when her horses won't behave, her stern, fair punishment when a horse disobeys. If she ever had command over her peers she would probably treat them much the same, becoming a great teacher and earning the respect of others. But being a hermit and a bit of a recluse Dami wouldn't wish to command anyone, just her horses.

Dami is actually frightened of crowds to be truthful. She doesn't do well speaking to multiple people and she doesn't like to spend a lot of time with others. Not a social creature Dami would actually find any way to get out of crowds, one of the reasons she is hesitant to travel to Ilirea.

History: When Damitha was but a young toddler in the eyes of elves her father was killed in last dying years of the war. Her mother fell into a troubled existance and Dami was stuck with the horses her father had trained before he perished as companions. She lived in that little cottage with her mother and continued what her father did, with the help of her fathers right hand assistant, Eoalan. He was much the father that she lacked, though his only desire was to be with the horses and keep to himself. She learned quickly and spent more time breaking her first couple of horses as she grew older than thinking of magic or the war that was boiling over. Eoalan was a very old elf, one of the elders who had retired to the forest because he tired of the political games. He had a gift with the horses and he saw that Dami did as well. When she turned twenty-five Dami was whisked off to learn about magic, to control it and to further her education of her own race and culture.

When she returned she found that Eoalan had past, his time in this place had been long and he simply wanted to rest in peace now. Dami was pained when she learned of this but her strengths kept her in line and she simply continued on with the work she loved. While she had a small herd of horses some of the best war horses came from her, even the ones she sold to the humans. In no way were the humans getting a great war horse in elven standards but they were special in thier own way. And now, after two years of getting back into the work she loves Dami is entertaining the idea of traveling to Ilirea in search of adventure and to see the home of the dragon riders. To fly on a dragon would be something great, she believes, if riding a horse at full speed feels like flying, than what would riding a dragon be like?

Roleplaying Sample:

It was here that it began. Here in this desolate, empty, and broken down town. He had found her looking at numbers, the same ones he now stared at. He had laughed at her, mocked her, and chased her to the broken building three blocks down. He had taken her to his land as a slave, she was so young and he planned on making her the perfect slave. How things had changed. Her youth and innocense had captured his heart. She became his world and after the slave, City, gave birth to Kenan, Vlad had his family. Unfortunatly City forfeited her life to give Vlad a heir but it mattered not to him. Annora had a foal to watch over, Vlad had a son and a mate. He had a family. His darkened eyes squeezed shut at the memory, silent tears cascasded down his shapely face. The dark clouds above shook with haunting thunder and flashing light. The cold rain fell down from the skies but Vlad stood, letting the rain soak his body. He looked almost sickly. He hadn't been eating, his coat was dirty, and his eyes held pain and loss.

Annora had left. Gone a few weeks after Kenan turned one. He had been heartbroken and betrayed but he held his dignity and kept raising Kenan as if nothing had happened. But a few weeks ago the d*mned disease ravaged his home, taking his son from him. Enraged he killed all the slaves he found before coming to this place. He didn't know what to do, his mind going insane from the lose of his love, his son, and his land. He stared at the numbers with longing as the rain continued to batter his body. If one who knew Vlad would come across him they would probably laugh, thinking that he wasn't whom he was. Vlad wasn't like this and as his thoughts started to regroup themselves he realized that he wasn't like this and that Annora leaving and Kenan dying where probably a symbol that he was not what he pretended to be. As this new revolution took form in his mind the longing and loss in his eyes turned cold and the evil glint that usually accompanied Vlad returned.

Heaving his soaked head he gave his body a great shake, feeling the dirt and debris that had gathered on his coat over the past few days run down his sides as the water cleaned him. He realized that he had become thin, his muscles not as toned as before so he moved towards a patch of grass that grew within the cracks of the road. Eating quickly Vlad decided that he would leave, as soon as he said goodbye to his old life. Walking slowly down the street till he had reached three blocks from where he was Vlad turned into the dusty old building, the door on the left broken from where he had stormed in to corner Annora. "Goodbye M'love" He spoke softly before moving to the ruined door, retracing his steps as he left his heart behind. He stepped into the rainy streets and looked up at the storming sky. Grinning he let out a laugh, an insane sound that if anyone heard they would surely know that Vlad was near.

He moved towards the city center, into the worst of the storm. The blackened sky screamed at him, shaking the ground he walked upon. Lightning struck around him, the old buildings acting as a rod into the ground protecting him from being struck. He seemed to step with purpose, his laugh echoing off of the buildings around him. The only sound louder was the constant boom of the thunder. He stopped in the city's heart, looking back down the path he had just walked from. Lightning hit the ground a few dozen feet away from him and his eye's widened as he stared at a figure coming towards him. "Annora" He breathed. His eyes held no love, no kindness at the apparant image. He laughed and mocked the imagined figure with taunting looks. He through his head up and dared it to come closer. He laughed until it hurt and still he seemed to dance with glee. 'Come closer and meet your death' He thought as he prepared to attack 'her'

[Nayeli]

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