Name: Nilme Laanilmirailman
Aliases: Kari; Lady Nilme Laanilmirailman, Keep of the Light, Daughter of Elrith, First of Selede;
Gender: Female
Race: Moon Elf
Age: 120
Profession:
Languages: Elven, Sylvan
Accent: soft, melodic voice.
Physical Information
Height: 4'11"
Weight: 78
Body build: slender and trim.
Skin type: smooth and well maintained
Hair style: ponytail
Scars: None
Tattoos: none
Colouring:
- [b]Hair:[/b] Black hair, tied in pony tail [b]Eyes:[/b] Lake blue [b]Skin:[/b] Light Tan [/li]
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Philosophy:
"Through duty we stand, through love we grow"
Deity/Beliefs: A dedicated follower of Hanili Celanil
Personality:
- (examples) [u]Proper[/u] [i]Believes there are ways of doing things[/i] [u]Innocent[/u] [i]Approaches life from a niave point[/i] [u]Cautious[/u] [i]Prefers to carefully choose those she trust[/i] [/li]
Gear: Standard gear and two long swords she prizes.
Jewelry: A Ring given by her love as a promise to wed.
Habbits/hobbies:
General Health: Perfect health
Favorite Drink: Wine
Weaknesses: Kari has a weakness for romance and affairs of the heart as well as for Roland Evaros, her steadfast companion
____________________________________________________________________
Friends she knows:
Roland Elvaros - Her beloved companion
Nath - A companion that she at one time thought the worst of but has come to admire her
Sir Azrinith - A knight who has aided her many times sincce she arrived in Sigil
Archimedes - A Wizard who aided her while in the beastlands and a trusted ally
Nian - A panther she raised from a kitten and her companion
Triel - A drow woman and trusted friend
The Escape:
Nilme - known to those closest to her as Kari - sat in the dimly lit corner of the tavern, anxiously awaiting the arrival of her beloved. Glancing to the door, she tugged her cloak tighter around her and sighed inwardly. She was starting to worry.
The 'What has happened to him' surfaced in her mind for the third time in as many minutes. She forced it away just as quickly.
"He isn't some helpless kitten", she said in a soft, melodic whisper. Realizing she has spoken aloud, she glanced from under her hood, looking to see if anyone might have over heard.
Breathing a sigh of relief, she took in the very few patrons that had managed to be in the tavern that night. Three men sat at one table and they appeared to be giving the barmaid a hard time. The pretty lass - she would be the same age as Nilme, were she elven - seemed to be holding her own against their suggestions and returned the suggestions with faint insults and smiles. The broad shouldered bartender seemed occupied with a flagon he repeatedly kept wiping down. Nilme suspected he was keeping an eye on the barmaid.
'Fool girl,' she thought with a touch of cynicism, 'If ye can not control yeself better than this, it might be better to return and ask for forgiveness and mercy.'
'Of course,' she continued, 'There is no going back now. Nor do I wish to.'
No. That decision had been made for her and Roland after her father's soldiers had ambushed one of Roland's fathers merchant wagons. There was fault enough to spread around among both families for the escalation of hostilities, but Nilme had refused to allow Roland or her accept responsibility. She had to simply shake her head in disbelief at their parents pettiness when she had heard of the ambush.
Trying to chase her doubts away, her thoughts went to Roland. On her second naming day, she had secretly pledged herself to Hanili Celanil, only asking for true love in return. Hanili, it seemed to her, had something of a sense of humor. She had hoped for a handsome elven man to sweep her away. What she had gotten - something she would never question - was Roland. It yet stunned Nilme just how deeply she loved the human. Enough to run away and forsake her family.
Thinking of Roland had caused her nervousness to return and she sighed, glancing to the entrance of the tavern. That was when she noted the three men were no longer occupied by the barmaid. Instead, they seemed to be speaking low and looking toward her occasionally.
Looking around, Nilme noted that the barmaid and barkeeper were now gone. One of the men at the table stood and walked towards her. He was lanky and stumbled as he approached.
"So what ye about, then? 'Idin' in that cloak, like that. Me mates 'ave a wager ye be ugly as a troll. 'Course, I told the fools ta hush and not be speakin' 'bout strangers without bein' polite and whatnot" The man seemed to be deep into his alcohol and he swayed slightly back and forth. His clothing looked to be worn and frayed and his unshaven appearance seemed filthy.
"Please leave me. I only wish to drink my wine in peace", she manage to say without her voice wavering.
The man placed his hands on the table and leaned toward her. "'Ow old ye be. I'm not so sure a little girl should be drinkin' wine." The stench of his body odor wafted in on Nilme, and she held back the urge to gag.
Growing a little angry, Nilme tugged her hood down and glared at the man, her deep lake blue eyes piercing his. "I am old enough. Now be gone."
The man let out a small mumble "a flamin' elf." Grinning widely, he crooked his head back to his two companions
"Ye be owin' me some coin. She is an elven lass."
Feeling slightly cornered, Nilme rose to her feet, trying to appear a little larger than her diminuative frame might suggest. She felt like a rabbit trying to appear larger than a bear. Trying to move past the man, "Now, if ye will exc..."
Before she could get around the man, he reached out with speed that suprised her, shoving her backward, her back into the corner. "where ye think ye be goin', lass."
One of his companions laughed "I dun think she be likin' ye, Ansen."
The man named Ansen looked to Nilme with a wicked light in his eye, "So, 'ere I thought we were startin' ta be friends." Grinning to her and continueing to look, he yelled to his companions, "Kal, make sure ye keep the bloody barkeep and maid occcuppied.. I'm gonna teach this lass some manners"
The scrape of chairs sounded and Nilme noted both of his companions had risen, one heading to the door behind the bar, the other grinning as he walked toward her and Ansen. She looked around frantically, spying her long sword's hilt sticking out from her gear on the floor.
The man named Ansen moved around closer to Nilme, smiling with wickedness as he approached. The other man moved to the other side of the table and allowed a rotted teeth smile to appear on his face.
Desperately, Nilme reached for her hilt, but the man named Ansen, again with speed that belied his soberness, gripped her arm. "Ye won't be needin' that."
Trying to twist out of the man's grip only resulted in his grip increasing. In one quick movement, Ansen twisted her arm behind her back, then turned her and forced her to bend over the table. Tears welled in her eyes as she felt hopeless and she cried out in elvish, "No!"
"Time ta show ye what a real man be like," Ansen growled to her.
At that moment, the door of the inn opened and a tall, handsome and muscled man entered. Nilme felt her hopes rise. The calm look that was on the man's face changed from calmness, to shock and finally to utter anger. He yelled "YOU WILL NOT!" even as he drew his sword and charged the men. Before the man could cross three steps, another figure - this one older, smaller and dressed in robes - entered. Nilme heard the unmistakable words of power sound out. A sudden flash flared brightly. Ansen and his companion fell into heaps on the floor.
Roland‘s charge changed to a trot as he rushed to her side. Helping her to stand, he swept her to his arms. The man who had arrived with Roland gave a snort in satisfaction, glancing around the dimly lit common room.
“are you alright, darling?,” Roland asked in his fairly passable elvish.
“Ye were late, love”, Nilme spoke in her melodic elven language.
As Roland and Nilme embraced, the barkeeper returned from the kitchen, followed by the barmaid. As he surveyed the room, his face changed from surprise, to shock,, and finally anger.
“Wot’s! this, then?! There be no castin’ in the Goose!”, the barkeeper bellowed.
Roland stepped away from Nilme and focused his eyes on the bellowing barkeeper.
Speaking in common, Nilme addressed the Barkeeper. “Well, Master Barkeep. Perhaps if ye did a better job at keeping your patrons under control, there would be no need for casting.”
The barkeepers eyes widened as his cheeks drew deep crimson, “It’ll be the stockade fer ye three. Cynthia, run an’ get the watch!”
As the barmaid turned to leave, Roland’s demeanor changed, growing calm. And he spoke in a authoritive voice. “Stop!”
The barmaid froze and even the barkeeper looked taken aback.
“You will not.” He growled, sheathing his sword and stepping toward the bar. “ I am Sir Roland Elvaros, Knight Errant of Silverymoon, Son of Jacob Elvaros, Squire of Sir Darian Bellwood, and I stopped these men from assaulting this woman.” Seeing he had their attention, he continued. “should you wish to pursue this matter with the watch, I am sure they will be interested to know that a woman was nearly assaulted in the unattended common room of the Feathered Goose.”
Again, the barkeepers face changed, this time a look of dismay on his face. Nilme wondered it was the knight errant part, or the noble family name Elvaros that caused him such a look.
The barkeepers mouth worked wordlessly for a moment before he managed to spit out, “Can’t be ‘avin’ that, milord.” Glancing around the room at the three snoring men, the barkeeper continued, “So ye intend at se at these three, then?”