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Sindarion Telrunya

"By the powers old and new, I will have my revenge."

0 · 499 views · located in Baekoth

a character in “The Messiah Queen”, as played by LordTalbot


S I N D A R I O N || T E L R U N Y A
"By the powers old and new, I will have my revenge"


Hair: Black, styled in two long braids more often than not.
Facial Hair: None
Eyes: Brown
Build: Heavy
Skin Tone: Copper
Height: 5'10"
Weight: 11st
Voice: X
Handed: Ambidextrous
Body Markings: Sindarion retains his clan tattoos, though now they mean little to him.
Scar Tissue: Some small burn scars.
Unique Body Features: None

Sindarion Telrunya

He is called 'Edledhron', meaning 'The Exile' in the Elvish tongue.

Once a shaman among his people, since his exile Sindarion has no real rank or title.


Visual Age
Late 50s

Factual Age


Sexual Orientation
Pansexual, though Sindarion takes little interest in things that will not advance his power or ambitions.

Mage Ranking
Dur'hest, though he is constantly working to advance his skills.





Sindarion’s personality has been molded by both his upbringing in Acacia and the extremes of his exile. His dominating personality trait is his ambition. Even as a young elf, Sindarion aspired to greatness, both in terms of magical and political power. Thinly veiled behind a normal façade, his mind always has been, and still is, churning with schemes to advance his goals, be that adapting his control over spells, or gaining control over others. However, Sindarion’s ambitions do not simply cover himself, he also desires to lead his people to advancement and domination over the peoples of Baekoth. In pursuit of his ambitions Sindarion is willing to betray or scramble over anyone he has to.

Even in his exile, Sindarion believes that he must ‘save his people’ from the backwards and destructive ways of the elders. He is adamant that elves must rise up and seize their rightful place as one of, if not the only, dominant race in the world. Now, in order to enact this rescue he has allied himself with humans, who he believes will, in the end, submit to the obvious superiority of the elves. Self-righteous to the extreme, Sindarion whole-heartedly indulges in the idea that he is the savior of his people. However, he is often blind to the truth that in reality he has very little control, and that the Queen he has allied himself with will most likely turn on him when she has what she wants.

The manipulation of people and events is one of Sindarion’s favorite tools. He is a master of hiding his true feelings and intentions behind a thinly veiled mask of charm. To his ire during his childhood, many at his home village became wise to his ways, but in Soveif and now in his exile, people were so far ignorant. By pouring honey in the ears of those he wishes to, he finds it extremely easy to get what he wants. Wheedling information out of the weak minded is something he greatly enjoys, though those who are wise in the ways of manipulators often see through his sickly sweet disguise. But those people he employs different techniques on. However, his view of himself is so elevated, he cannot recognize when he himself is being manipulated.

Sindarion’s exile has forced him to become quick to adapt to new places and situations. Where most would feel uncomfortable and out of place, Sindarion throws himself in wholeheartedly, hiding whatever his true feelings might be behind a mask of belonging. He is quick to learn new ways, and quick to suss out the people around him. His eyes are always watching to discover personality traits, strengths, weaknesses, something he can use in the future. His image is that of the flamboyant and polite exile. Eager to please, and always smiling.

Despite his exile from his home, Sindarion retains a strong connection to it. He still wears the traditional clothes of his people most of the time, and will never be seen without his earrings or necklaces, made from bone or wood that show the symbols of his people. He has a great love of everything elven, though he believes their views outdated and potentially dangerous. Elven civlisation must embrace magic and technology if it is to achieve its rightful destiny.

Moral Alignment
Neutral Evil

Sindarion is purely motivated by his desire for power, though his revenge against the people who exiled him moves his mind at the moment.

  • Those more powerful than him - Though he would tell you he fears nothing, Sindarion has a healthy fear of those who have more power than him. This fear manifests itself as a barely hidden hatred, and a desire to undermine them in whatever way possible. However, he will always be terrified of feeling helpless against an opponent, even one who does not view him as an enemy.
  • Stagnating - Sindarion fears the day when he will not be able to increase his powers further. His ambitions are boundless, and the thought that he may not be able to achieve them terrifies him, and forces him to strive harder in his efforts.
  • Fire - Despite his use of the elements in his magic, Sindarion retains the fear of fire from living in the forests of Acacia. Devastating forest fires are the fear of many there, and, despite his exile, Sindarion is still one of them.

  • Politics - Now a resident at the court of Dorelith, Sindarion enjoys the game of courtly politics, playing groups off against one another and observing the interesting human plots that go around.
  • Dancing - Ranging from the ceremonial dances of his people, to the gentle dances of court, Sindarion loves the technique and elegance of the act. The thrill of the dance and its obvious affect on people are things he revels in. Often dancing becomes part of his manipulations, taking his partners in a whirlwind of movement.
  • Feeling his power grow - Either through learning new spells or conducting black rituals, Sindarion loves the surge of power he feels afterwards. For the short time he feels invincible, his revenge and redemption of the elven people seem that little bit closer to reality.
  • Parks or forests - Though an exile, Sindarion still feels connected to his home, and he will always feel most relaxed when he is surrounded by trees and greenery. He will often be found sitting up in the top branches of a tree, simply enjoying the green light dappling on his face.

  • Open spaces - Growing up in the thick forests of Acacia, Sindarion is uncomfortable in wide, open spaces. They make him feel exposed and weak, two things he really hates to feel.
  • Humans - Put simply, Sindarion believes the elves to be the master race of Baekoth. Humans are only one step above the brutish orcs of the Freelands, and a short step at that. To Sindarion most of them are dirty, uncouth and uncivilised savages who are quite happy to live in squalor and spend all their time fighting each other. A far cry from the ways of the elves. The part of this that grates Sindarion is that these people embrace magic and technology, where his own people reject it.
  • Drinking - Preferring to remain cool-headed and in control, he disdains those who partake in alcohol, their drunken antics totally repulsive to him.

  • Ambition - Put simply, Sindarion will stop at nothing to gain ever more power. No matter who he has to destroy in the process, he will take what he wants.
  • Long life - Centuries of practice and life experience have allowed Sindarion to master his self-control, as well as spend time on certain aspects of magic that would take humans a lifetime to master.
  • Font of knowledge - Though connected to his long years, Sindarion is a font of knowledge, be it magical or on his own people. This is what makes him so useful to the Messiah Queen. What he knows about Acacia and the ways of the elves is infinitely valuable.

  • Self-righteous and egotistical - Sindarion's belief that he is the saviour of his people, and his belief in his own abilities, often blinds him to realities. He has very little control in his exile, and is often unaware when people he sees as beneath him are manipulating him.
  • Arrogance - Though linked to his egotistical nature, Sindarion is also arrogant to the extreme. He is quick to dismiss people as beneath him, and often believes himself better than those around him, or even those above him.
  • Easily recognizable - How many elven exiles are there? Sindarion is easily recognizable in the court of Citha, so he finds it incredibly difficult to move around without being noticed. Most times he has to use all of his magical and elven skills to move about unseen.
  • The Exile - Nominally Sindarion has no control over his fate anymore. His movements (that people know about) are strictly controlled, and when he is summoned to attend on the Queen, he has no choice. He is dependent on the Queen's good will, and her assistance to take back his home.

Is your character literate? In what languages?
Sindarion is literate in Elvish, the common tongue, and he is expanding his knowledge of the languages of magic.

C O M B A T || P R O W E S S

Rating System
[Perfect] - [Excellent] - [Good] - [Above Average] - [Average] - [Below Average] - [Poor] - [Very Poor]

Hand-to-Hand Combat:
Below Average- Sindarion never trained militarily beyond the basic tutelage given to every elven child. In hand to hand combat he is reliant on speed to make up for a lack of strength.

Melee Combat:
Below Average - Much the same as hand to hand, though he is proficient enough with a knife to defend himself.

Ranged Combat:
Above Average - As with most elves, Sindarion was born with a bow in his hand. Used for hunting as well as removing unwelcome elements from the forests of Acacia, the whisper of arrows has sounded the ending of many lives there. However, these days Sindarion has neglected his use of the bow, focusing on magic.

Magic Combat:
Good - Spending many of his long years practicing in the use of magic, he has attained a high level of skill and control when fighting with it. Walling off his mind to attackers he is able to spend a large amount of focus whilst casting devastating spells.

Mounted Combat:
Average - Though he learned to ride large cats, as most elves, he favours the horse native to the lands of his exile. Casting spells from horseback is no more difficult than casting them on foot.

Class Skills
Magic: Good - Sindarion has spent most of his life practicing magic, and striving to expand his power in any way possible. The rituals he conducted in secret in a dell in Acacia did much to expand his abilities. Though eager to master as many magical fields as he can, he has so far focussed on necromancy and pyromancy.

Extensive Knowledge: Good - Through his long years and secretive quests for knowledge, Sindarion has come to know much. His exile has, if anything, expanded his arsenal. The lands he has travelled revealing things to him that not many secluded within the Elven lands know.

Elven Shaman - Over his long life Sindarion has branched into many areas of elemental magic, and is now able to control many, if not most, aspects of each. The first area of magic he came across before being taken in by the elven shamans, this is the area that fascinates him the most. The training they gave him, and his own experimentation during and since, has reinforced his abilities and focus. He draws on knowledge built up over his long life, as well as what he now learns from texts in the Mages' College in Citha.

Raise dead - Learned through forbidden experimentation with his powers and nothing like the power of resurrection the Queen wields, this spell simply creates an automaton totally bent to Sindarion's will. Thorough practice of this spell has perfected his use of it. Automatons move with some of the fluidity of life, reacting to his puppetry almost instantly. Though able to make them speak, the voices of the once dead are oddly hollow, and strange to the ear. The automatons fight with no heed to wounds, only defeated when their heads are removed from their body, or they are burned.

Charm - A minor spell that Sindarion mastered in Red Harbour to quicken his information gathering. All it does is loosen the tongues of those speaking to him, and makes them more open to his questions and requests. It has come in very useful with his dealings with a certain organisation, and even more so at court in Citha.

Racial Abilities
Naturalist - Like most elves Sindarion shares a bond with nature that, despite his best efforts, he cannot quite shake off. This reveals itself in tracking abilities, or reading the state of forests or animals. An affinity with animals is involved too, though most now shy from Sindarion.

Spiritual - An element of Elven culture that Sindarion has tried hard to move away from. However, he still wears the talismans of his people, most concerned with the passage of life, and the returning of elements to the ground.


Sindarion carries with him, when he travels between places, a couple of magic texts that he constantly re-reads. Though he will not show anyone the books themselves, they give off an aura that discourages people from asking. He also carries some elements related to his knowledge as an elven shaman, namely salt and iron, and a Rowan wood carving that hangs around his neck.

He still wears the talismans of his people, bone and wooden items that do little more than serve as a reminder of where he came from.
Two of his earrings also bear symbols of his people, namely the wheel.

Weapon Name: 'Helca' - meaning 'Ice Cold' in Elvish.
Weapon Type: A ritual blade
Material: Silver
Length: 12"
Weight: 445g
Weapon Description/Info: A shimmering silver blade, Sindarion carries it with him at all times.

Weapon Name: N/A
Weapon Type: Staff
Material: Ash wood
Length: 4'6"
Weight: Negligible
Weapon Description/Info: The staff is nearly as tall as Sindarion, and its tip is carved into a writhing point, Elven runes wrapping around the whole length.


Group Affiliation
None but himself and his own ambitions, though at this moment he advises the Messiah Queen on the practices of his people.

Marital Status

Though his family was relatively large Sindarion was removed from its number with his exile.

Social Rank
Since his exile Sindarion has no real rank, though he before he held the respect and status of a shaman.

Adviser to the Council of Dorelith, though he continues his magical training.


Sindarion was born under the light of a curon moon, the islime shining upon the dappled trees that were both part of and sheltered his home. His family was large, and lived in a tree-top village some distance from Soveif. With such a family, Sindarion’s upbringing was simple enough, though from a young age he discovered a delight in manipulating those around him. It was simple enough to ply young elves to do what he wanted, and lying to parents about the actions of their children became almost a pastime. Over time he gained a reputation as a manipulator, and dealings he had with people were often clouded in suspicion, though sometimes he could still convince people to do what he wanted. Going through the normal elven education of hunting and crafting, he found himself bored, often sneaking away to follow his real passion, watching the shamans and their rituals. Whilst still quite young, by elven terms, small incidents occurred around him. Small fires began when he touched things, or concentrated on them too hard. He shared a special affinity with animals, even for an elf. Intrigued by this he practiced in secret, wanting to see how far these odd occurrences went. However, this was brought to an end by his parents, who noticed the latent magical ability of their son, and so sent him away with an elderly shaman to learn their ways with proper instruction.

The sacred glade Sindarion was taken to, and where he would spend the next century, was steeped in magic. The ancient trees there seemed to bleed with power, and the hairs on Sindarion’s body pricked simply walking around that place. The shamans trained him over time, first teaching him self-control through long hours of meditation in incense filled chambers formed by tree roots. Impatient to learn more about magical powers, Sindarion pressed to be taught more about the elemental abilities of the shamans. Many times he was rebuffed, often with some force. He would learn as and when the shamans chose to teach him, or he would not learn at all. The years dragged on, and slowly the secrets of magic were revealed to him. The potential for control over the elements, and the abilities of the seer became apparent, and he forced himself hard to expand his powers in everything. During his training Sindarion questioned why magic was not embraced by the elven people, as it obviously gave them so much power. The explanations of the shamans did nothing to answer this question, and it festered, growing alongside his own desires for power.

When his training was complete, Sindarion was sent forth with the blessing of the shamans who had taught him. Travelling to Soveif he left behind everything of his home. His reputation forgotten, and amongst people who did not know him or his abilities, he took on his duties as a shaman with gusto. During this time, Sindarion continued to experiment with his magical abilities. On an outing in the forest he had found a secluded dell, cut off from the world around it and nigh inaccessible. Here he would conduct his experiments. He trialed with elemental magic, attempting to control and twist it into the forms he wanted. The effort of going above and beyond what the shamans taught him was at first exhausting, even after continued meditation. However, this did not dissuade him. Over the course of decades, he expanded his ability. Soon it was almost effortless, and it was amusing to watch the effects his spells had on the environment around him. But this was not enough. Sindarion needed to see how a living creature would react to his magic. At first trapping animals, he expended them quickly. It was not enough. He needed more power. On rare occasions, he was able to snare lone wanderers, lost in the forest. Those he tested all manner of elemental spells on, but were also his first attempts with necromancy. Imbuing the dead with some force, over time he could raise simple automatons to do his bidding.

Whilst his secret experiments continued, Sindarion was not lax in his ambitions in Soveif. His status as a shaman allowed him access to council meetings, and there he listened to the petty problems of the elves. They worried about encroachments on their borders, about incursions of cursed creatures and evil things seeking refuge in the tall trees of Acacia. None of them seemed to see what Sindarion saw. Elves had the power to fight back, to push beyond Acacia and rid the world of these uncivilized and dangerous elements. He was not content to simply be a cog in the wheel. He saw a great destiny for the elves, a people greater than any other to his mind. If only they would rise up and seize it. Sindarion began trying to befriend councilors. He began small, doing small favours and ensuring to speak to them and their affiliates at every opportunity. He mentioned nothing political, or even spiritual, simply listened to what they had to say and came back for more, appearing to all to be the attentive admirer. His work brought him closer to the upper levels of the council. He was invited to sit by councilors at feasts, and began asking probing questions. Why shouldn’t the elves expand beyond Acacia? Surely the elves could bring peace and order to a land they were told was filled with warring tribes, devastating the landscape. Biding his time, Sindarion continued to build relationships with certain senior families, even helping his own to rise.

One fateful night, Sindarion was attempting to increase the abilities of a raised automaton, when he was pounced on and arrested by guards from Soveif. Suspicious of where he disappeared to, and mindful of his restlessness, the council elders had decided to have him followed. What they discovered shocked many. The glade was covered in scorch marks, thrown rocks, and numerous bodies of animals and others. Sindarion was dragged back to Soveif and put on trial. He tried to defend himself, extorting his beliefs on the dominance of elves, and the destiny they could seize if only they embraced their ability. His words went unheeded. Sindarion had violated his shamanic vows by dabbling in necromancy, and his actions endangered Acacia itself. The elders judged that Sindarion should be banished from Acacia, never to return on pain of death. At first dumbstruck at this ruling, he quickly recovered and yelled at the council members present. They would doom their people. Were they blind to the future? A brand was brought forth and Sindarion struggled hard. The white hot metal seared against the skin of his chest and he screamed, almost blacking out. Dragged from the council chamber, Sindarion violently resisted his captors, struggling hard and shouting threats of burning them alive. But over the course of days, the guards brought him to the edge of Acacia. He stopped with bows pointed at his back. The wide expanse of water before him was unlike anything he had seen before. In all his days he had never needed to travel to the edge of the forests, and now he gazed out upon the rolling waves and grey skies with not a little fear. Gritting his teeth he walked down to the shore. Unsure of where to go, he decided to follow the coast to the south, then east, living off what he found till he discovered a settlement. On the second day of his wanderings he caught a roe buck. Unaware of how the savage occupants of these lands outside Acacia would react to an elf, he fashioned a hood from the buck’s skin, and left all but the best cuts of meat to rot. He would return one day, and the cowards who led the council would pay for their treatment of him. He would lead the elves to their destiny one way or another.

The journey through the Freelands was one fraught with danger, and one that Sindarion would not repeat without much persuasion. Moving at night, he was forced to use all of the abilities and training at his command to pass unnocticed by the native orc tribes. Brutish, violent creatures, they fulfilled all his stereotypes about the savages that lived beyond Acacia. Smaller groups of them he didn’t bother to skirt around, simply turning their camps into wailing infernos that lit up the sky for miles around. The larger groups he crept past, the thumping of his heartbeat seemingly loud enough to alert them. He quickly lost track of time, especially as hunger gnawed at him. Night after night creeping through the long grasses, and days of fraught sleep with all the camouflaging spells he knew cast over himself. Eventually, after pushing east for what felt like weeks to him, he came across a river that curled around to the coast. Nestled at the mouth of this river, was a city. The city’s walls rose high above the landscape, and though it had obviously seen better days, the intimidating defences would server to deter any potential attacker.

Entry into the city was harder. Despite his hood, Sindarion’s race was obvious. At the gates he was stopped at spear point and refused entry until a captain questioned him at length. The captain still denied Sindarion access to the city, but gave him a little food and passage to a place called ‘Red Harbour’ on a ship leaving that day. Bristling with anger, but able to do little at the moment, Sindarion agreed, and boarded the trading vessel with a stamped notice allowing his passage. The short voyage to Red Harbour was almost worse than the journey across the Freelands. The rocking motion of the ship had Sindarion constantly ill, and he was infinitely glad when he set his feet on solid stone at one of the docks in Red Harbour.

Sindarion was in Red Harbour for quite a while. It was there he learned all he could about the human kingdom he found himself in. Needling information out of travelers and people at inns was simple enough, despite their reaction to his race. Here he learned of the ‘Messiah Queen’, as she called herself, and her awesome power. Sindarion eagerly sought out all he could about her, whilst also probing the dark corners of the city for ways to increase his own power again. In these dark corners he was found by a group who called themselves ‘The Conspiracy’. A man named Arkhan spoke to him at length, though Sindarion revealed little of consequence. However, Arkhan offered Sindarion help to reach the Queen and perhaps take her power. Intrigued, Sindarion took these people more seriously, and spent his efforts working out exactly who they were. Following the messanger birds was easy enough, and the interesting identity of the leader of this little group could prove useful in the future.

Anxious to see the Queen's power for himself, and also wondering about the potential for using it to exact revenge on those who denied him back in Acacia, Sindarion left Red Harbour for Citha. Appearing less like a beggar and more like his normal self, Sindarion presented himself to royal officials with the request to have an audience with the Queen. He would provide her with what little tidbits of information on Acacia he thought would be enough to hook her into his schemes. Given time, he could worm his way into her confidence and discover the secrets of her power. He waited. Days passed before his summons to court, and the perceived slight made him seethe with anger. Not every day did an elf wander into the capitol and offer up the secrets of his people. The Queen herself cut an impressive figure, her obvious power gave Sindarion's hollow smile an edge of shivering anticipation at holding it himself. He presented himself as the savior of his people from the backwards ways of the elders. The Queen would do well to help him release his people from oppression. In their first meeting, Sindarion revealed little beyond his intentions to provide her with information and his request for asylum during his exile. He presented himself as the savior of his people from the backwards ways of the elders. The Queen would do well to help him release his people from oppression. This was granted, though his movements were extremely restricted. He could not move beyond the Mage's College, which he was granted access to, or beyond the walls of the capitol. He was also shadowed, obviously by two guards, and perhaps through other means. Regardless, he was in. Free to continue his magical training and perfectly placed to further his ambitions. Now was his time.

So begins...

Sindarion Telrunya's Story