Legends of Belariath

Velve

The life of Velve is one that is which much disappointed and grief, for it is a life that never really lived up to its true potential. From a young age, Velve had always been the 'runt' amongst her sisters and her peers, always smaller and less developed in many ways. Where others had been gifted with ample assets, she had been cursed to a wispy form. Where others practiced magic with ease, she fumbled with the most basic of spells. She did excel in one area though: swordplay. In the court yard of her ancestrel home, she rather enjoyed practicing when the mood struck her. The only problem was that she was not the sort to get struck by such a mood very often. Rather, she spent much of her days immersing herself in her vices, ranging from the pleasures of the flesh to the delightful states of drunkeness. Never could she apply herself, this shameful behavior a nuisance for her instructors and family memebers alike. Had she been at least somewhat driven, she could have been manipulated and used in their nefarious plays for power.

So it was with this frustration that a plan was formulated to evict the runt from the household. While killing her would have been easy, there were those that would have rather seen her tortured in ways that death could not. And what better place to do that than on the surface? Afterall, it was the surface people who craved exotic beings to claim as their own, and what was more exotic than a Moriel? To get Velve to accompany a caravan to the surface was not at all difficult, as such ventures often offered Velve the chance to acquiant herself with that which was exotic to her. It was during this trip that Velve 'disappeared' without so much as a trace, a loss which few were actually bothered by. Drugged and left for dead on the surface, a bewildered Velve was forced to adapt to the sunlight and the general lack of comfort which she had become accustomed to. She wandered for what seemed like weeks in the wilderness before finally arriving in Nanthalion, a place which seemed to be a melting pot of various cultures and races.

In Nanthalion, not much changed about Velve once she settled in, as she returned to her old habits of drinking far too much in the evening and sharing company with a myriad of the locals. Even while under the tuteledge of Lloathe, she neglected her training and much of that which was taught to her..

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