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Lómëar Lúhtalócë

"Eca, a mitta lambetya cendeless?? orcova. Ela? Istan quet?? ya merin, ar l?? hanyuvatyen."

0 · 560 views · located in The Kingdom of Ethia

a character in “Ethia's Crusades”, as played by NethanielShade


Lómëar Lúhtalócë
Lustaya Lúcë
"The Void's Enchantment"


Personal Information

Full Name
Lómëar Tumna Lúhtalócë

His full name is in the Elves' native language. His first name, Lómëar means "Night Child" or "Child of Night." His middle name, Tumna literally means "Hidden." His surname, Lúhtalócë is a compound word of "lúhta" meaning "enchant" and "lócë" meaning "dragon."
Completely translated into the Common Tongue, his name would mean something along the lines of "Hidden Night-Child of the Enchanted Dragon." Seems like a bunch of garbled nonsense, but an Elf would be weary of someone who holds such a name.


340 Years old.



Void Demon

"Lustaya Lúcë" Meaning "Void's Enchantment"
He's also known as "Shadow Walker," "Void Walker," and "Dark Enchanter."

Sexual Orientation:
Uninterested in either gender.


Date of Birth:
(2475 AS Month unknown.)

Elven tattoos on stomach and side.


146 lbs

Physical Condition:
More muscular than others of his race due to running and using a bow, giving him a physically lean appearance, but he is still slightly 'skinny' by human standards.

Current Residence

Former Residence

Parents and siblings deceased, but he has distant family.

He is a lone-wolf type figure, and therefore doesn't make friends.

Many. He used to be enemies with Ethiafell exclusively but due to practicing forbidden magic, he is exiled from Eldanoore too.

Stephen Kane, The One-Eyed Crow, and The Dead Father will all become his rivals in the future.
(Formerly) Uial Clan

Former Affiliations:
Uial Clan

Deranged- Mentally decayed. Insane. Crazy. Mad. Psychotic. Lómëar definitely has problems in his head, his mind was possibly corrupted by forbidden magic and further by demons.
Lómëar is a shady character, you can never quite tell his intentions, but it is always clearly obvious that something about him isn't right. He is extremely magically potent, so much so that it can be felt by those without the gift. He has an aura of despair that seems to radiate from him. This is due to his dabbling in forbidden magic, that has permanently altered him.

Psychological Condition:
Mentally unstable, possibly borderline insane and psychopathic. Do not confuse this with lack of intelligence, he still maintains problem solving abilities and acute intelligence common among Elves.

The Void

To the right: A picture of him without armor.

Purple tattered cloak with blue strips of cloth and plate metal protecting the arms, legs and abdomen along with a metal facemask, all the metal enchanted to weigh as much as leather and the cloth to be resistant to piercing and resistant to magic (But not invulnerable). Grooves are carve in the arms of his armor, allowing his aura to flow through it better.

A bow made of deathroot, a type of root that grows out of the bottom of trees in witchwoods (It is an independent plant from the trees), enchanted to have the physical properties of a bow, but due to the material is able conduct cursed magic easier.



He is able to chant spells in any spell-allowing language, the human's Ancient Tongue, the Elvish Tongue, or the Dragon Tongue. He has a purple aura, which along with black, is considered the color of forbidden or dark magic.

Current History

Past History

Note: "Eca, a mitta lambetya cendelessë orcova! Ela? Istan quetë ya merin, ar lá hanyuvatyen." Means "Go French-kiss an orc! See? I can say what I wish, and you won't understand me." (Actually, a literal translation would be "Be gone, insert your tongue in the orc's face! See? I can say what I want, and you will not understand me." )
Note 2: I know, he's unfinished, but I need him to progress the story. Sorry, but I won't be leaving it unfinished, that's for sure.

So begins...

Lómëar Lúhtalócë's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lómëar Lúhtalócë
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Lómëar Tumna Lúhtalócë, a figure in a tattered purple cloak, stalked down an empty trading path in northern Eldanoore. The sun was high in the center of the sky, and he had been walking on for many leagues. Finally, he spotted a pond in a grove of trees a little ways off the path. He walked to it, and rested, looking out at the pond, which was filled with water lilies, spindleweed, lotus flowers, water hyacinth, marshmerrow reeds and he even spotted two Drazroot plants. He resisted the urge to start plucking plants. Many of them have magical or alchemical properties, but he would have no way to preserve them while traveling. He stood and walked closer to the pond, now at the water's edge. He pointed at the pond and muttered "Mórë," the Elven word for "blackness." Suddenly the water grew murky and dark, the darkness spread to the lotus flowers and turned the beautiful white petals black and the center yellow flower purple, it darkened the maroon shades of the spindleweed, it turned the purple flowers of water hyacinth to a darker shade and turned the green black, likewise with the water lilies, the marshmerrow reeds and the Drazroot. Then he muttered "Húna," the Elven word for curse. All of the plants gave off a faint purple glow, then returned to their still colored but non-glowing states. The plants would now all have negative effects where there would be positive, and the water is now poisonous. And lastly: "Ulundo," meaning deformed or hideous creature. The fish in the pond all twisted and shifted, some elongating, others growing spikes, all growing razor sharp teeth and glowing eyes. The fish were now beasts that would attack anyone who put so much as a finger in the water.

Lómëar smiled slightly, pleased with his work. It always pleased him to destroy things, whether it be violently or subtly as the pond is now. He enjoyed altering life for malevolent purposes and pursued studies in such areas, even though it was considered evil. He shrugged at his thoughts. He now wondered what the new effects the plants would have, but he still was unable to test it. The three spells also left him drained as if he had just ran for a league or two. Manipulating energy and the elements was elementary work, easily done by anyone who knew the basic principles of magic. Altering things was much harder, and in some cases nearly impossible, and doing so would kill a lesser magician. Nevertheless, he was quite happy with his new oasis of death. He sighed now, realising his counterproductiveness. He had come here to rest from walking all day, and only tired himself more. He shook his head but stood up anyway. He had to keep traveling, he was close to Eldanoore's borders now. The path lead on place, and that's why it is no longer used. Lómëar just hopes that the man he intends to visit will cooperate.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lómëar Lúhtalócë Character Portrait: The Dead Father
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Lómëar Lúhtalócë continued along the wide trading road, heading farther north. Soon enough he saw a dark spot on the horizon. As he neared, he could make out walls and towers, a castle, as it was far too large to be an ordinary fortress. About twenty minutes later, he noticed something... odd. A dark mass had gathered in front of the castle, and it was then that he could tell that they were soldiers. He raised an eyebrow. How could such a force be here without anyone knowing? Were the Elves? Men?


Once he was a league away from the castle, he could tell. They had no auras, yet still possessed a spark. They were not hallows, they were possessed corpses. Friendly spirits didn't posses corpses, it went against their nature, no these spirits were made to be called upon by magic, and he was well versed in necromancy enough to know. The undead stood eerily still, as if a horde of statues guarded the castle. He smiled. Clever little display, but he would not walk in without a display of his own. He flared up his aura, which was so big that it was a globe meters out from his body, and glew a striking purple with raw energy so powerful that the air around him buzzed and hummed and shimmered. As he walked, the ground beneath him was scorched from his aura, and a trail of purple flames followed his wake. He walked in between the legion of unmoving undead, where they were parted at the gate, and entered the castle. He stalked the empty halls, unimpressed, while slowly shrinking his aura and letting it fade back into himself. When he reached the throne room, he pushed open the iron double doors that started with a squeak that echoed throughout the empty castle.

Lómëar walked three quarters of the way to the throne on which the Dead Father sat, placed an arm across his chest, and bowed deeply. After the bow, he placed his right hand across the metal mask covering his face and pulled it off, revealing the features below. He smirked , looking up at the Dead Father through strands of wispy white hair, and said, "I have arrived."