Amruncrist

Quick Reference
Rhuiwain Alphatir Amruncrist
Home	Mithlond
Gender	Male
Race	Sindan Mithlondhrim
Culture	Mithlond
Title
House
Clan
Age	5794
Birthdate	May 17, 695 SA
Occupation
Occupations	{{{occupations}}}
Hair	Black
Eyes
Skin
Height
Weight
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Description

Long black hair falls from his crown as a shadow upon his brilliant countenance. Its tide barely relents as it passes his shoulders, falling on garments of so exquisite a make that they might seem decadent were they not also practical.

Such is the nature of his raiment:A high collared coat of azure, inlaid with scrollwork picked out with pearls is worn over top a rather plain tunic, and belted at his waist. The belt is black, and equally splendid, wrought with swirls and spirals which might cause one to fall into a trance were one inclined to inspect it so closely. It seems as though a seaside scene, waves crashing again and again as they drift from front to back. His breeches are grey, and starkly unadorned, tucked neatly into boots which fold down or lace high upon the leg at his discretion.

Surmounting his shoulders, he is often in the habit of wearing a long cloak, which is folded in upon itself several times to render its length shorter, thus increasing its bulk. It is grey in part, and green, in part, and the blue of the night sky, for a third part. It is cunningly made, such that it hides as much as its wearer as is desired. It is pinned neatly at the shoulder with a silver brooch of a swan resting leisurely upon the waters.

He is a fair creature, and exceedingly tall. Lithe of build, and sturdy of demeanor, he seems serious to behold, and yet there is a subtle gaiety which might be revealed were one to look deeply into his eyes, grey, mysterious pools of mist.

History

By many names has he been known. Rhuiwain was the name given to him by his father. Alphatir he was called as well. In time, he adopted the last name he was to take for himself, though perhaps others may call him different things: Amruncrist - "The Sword of Sunrise." As all tales told by elven tongues seem everlasting, let this bard be the first to relate it in a manner which may be digestible in human terms.

Rhuiwain Amruncrist is descended from the union of Orodben, a Telerin elf of the people of Cirdan and Linniaur whose parents were of mixed Laiquendi and Nandorin origin. And so it might be said, his doom was a mingled one, such that, though he were born near the waters of the sea in the year 695 of the second age, he forsook the calling of the waters for a while, a long while, as measured in the minds of men, but not so long for the Immortal elves.

In the 100th year of his life, he was sent as a messenger to the people of the Gwaith-i-Mirdain, though the details of his mission were minor, as the communications between the two realms at this time did not always involve great treatises and the like, since it was a happy time in Middle-Earth, such that Sauron had not yet revealed himself as he would in the years to come.

Seeing the many works they had wrought, even in such a short time as they had lingered in Ost-in-edhil, he decided to return there as soon as he might, and so several years later, he came once again to that place, desiring an apprenticeship as a smith, but not achieving it, for the Golodhrim were ever jealous of their arts and artifices. As he had been trained as a shipwright, however, he was not sent back to his own people, rather conducting a ferry down the long and winding Glanduin, whose name in the tongues of men is Swanfleet.

At the confluence of the Glanduin and the Mitheithel, near to where Tharbad was founded, ships would sometimes come with messengers between the realms of Lindon and Eregion, the diligence of the Elves never waining, despite the seeming peace, and at this place, he would meet with the great ships of the sea which would sail there for this purpose. In this, he conducted many messengers and wayfarers between these two realms.

But peace never lasts in this land of ever-change. Long years passed, and though he rarely ventured far from the river for which he took a new name, Alphatir, he sometimes would come to the great holds of the Elven smiths, and seek out what lore he might, though there were some things, even the Gwaith-i-Mirdain would not speak of....

...though the peace had indeed been a long one, the forces of the Enemy had never slept, and so in the year 1697 of the second age, having by misfortune come to dwell in the places of Eregion which were bound to be attacked, Alphatir came to the place which would after be named Imladris, one of the many who fled there under the guidance of Elrond, knowing not whether to turn left or right. In those long years he had never considered whether he might marry, for death never seemed imminent, and his place in Middle Earth was secure, but now... in time he returned to Mithlond with a wife and a child, but he came too late, for his parents had already gone over to the West, knowing naught of his surviving the ill tidings of the destruction of Eregion.

When his child was full grown, a daughter, his wife no longer felt desire beating in her heart to remain in Middle Earth, and she too went over the sea, but still... Aphatir loved this place, and would not depart from it, while he still had breath. The destruction of Eregion taught him one thing: Diligence is more than being prepared for your enemy to strike, it sometimes means striking first.

And so, in the middle of the third millenia of the second age, he began to train as a warrior, all the while continuing to perfect his skills as a mariner, and also learning what lore he might of the folk that sometimes came on their way to the West, or conversely, from the Men of Numenor who would sometimes return from beyond the horizon. When the Dunedain returned to Middle Earth, he was not unaware of it, but it concerned him little... though when the call of the Last Alliance rang forth, he could not settle himself, but that he must join in the Army of Gil-Galad, his lord, that that fell creature who had tricked the folk of Eregion might finally be blotted out from the Earth.

His service was valiant enough, and he survived, but his tale was like unto so many others who were there in those dark days... the Light of the West he had never beheld, but neither had he succumbed to the lies of Sauron.

The third age began, and diligence remained the by-word, for had not the Enemy seemed defeated so many years ago? Little kept him of a mind to stay in Mithlond for very long, years at best, for at the beginning of these waning years, his daughter too had departed into the West, for though he had been a dutiful father, and attentive as best as he might be, she loved her mother better, and felt little of the pull of the Earth.

Amruncrist he now named himself for in the Battles of the Last Alliance he had been chanced to be put in charge of a raid that would happen at sunrise. As he stole with his companions upon their set task, a sword he found, abandoned by the cowardly yrch that had previously wielded it. It was black as night, but it seemed to him that as the sun crested the horizon, it shone as hope might, despite the darkness of the hour. In the ensuing maelstrom the blade itself was lost, but the vision remained, a reminder to him of the duty and the hope that must not be forgotten nor forsaken.