PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Many claim that the year of Luinor’s birth was one of the last great years of tranquility. For soon after, at least in an Elf’s perspective, when he was but 10 years of age his beautiful emerald city was overrun by horrific creatures, all of which bore the mark of Ravonga. Many of his kinfolk fell to their evil blades, while even more were taken captive. Yet, a small amount of them were able to find sanctuary (including his father) it was as if the forest had opened her arms and hidden them beneath her emerald limbs. From here many of the survivors decided to stay and rebuild their lives, while others fled to the west in order to meet up with families in the High Forest.



Many seasons have came and gone since that tragic day. The forest has already healed from the fires used to burn out his village, yet many elves still remain at the outpost near the edges of Cormanthor. The ways of manipulating magic have once again begun being taught to the young. However, instead of the constant singing and music that once defined his village, one is more likely to hear the swift clang of sword against armor as his people prepare themselves for any future problems. From his father he was taught the ancient ways of healing through worship of (elven god/goddess name), yet when he wasn’t in deep prayer, he was constantly practicing with his sword. He vowed to himself that he would never be overrun like his people had been before.



Luinor was still young by elven standards, yet showing his prowness in battle and proving that he had learned much of his father’s healing arts, he was allowed to accompany many of the patrols and scouting parties. For this was now an elven outpost to beat back the scourge of evil that has corrupted his once great forest.



At the young age of 112, Luinor felt the pains of wanderlust pulling him from his home. While traveling he found and learned many new abilities and skills he believed would become useful at some point. As the seasons came and went he continued to wander along; away from the ancient forests of Cormanthor, through the firey sands of Anauroch, and across vast mountains and hillsides. It was after passing through the High Moor and stopping at a seedy town called Daggerford, that he heard of recent attacks that set off alarms and brought back memories of that horrific day of his youth.



He decided that the time for knowledge was over and the time for action was now. He began cautiously seeking out other adventures to assist him in his cause.