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Vilihad
Vilihad, Enemy of The Dead
| Name | Vilihad |
|---|---|
| Occupation | Undead Hunter |
| Age | Adult |
| Race | Man |
|---|---|
| Residence | Vagabond |
| Kinship |
| Outward Appearance | A subtle man, of slight physique and just about average height. The watchful gaze of his pale blue eyes might be glimpsed from under his Rangers' hood every once in a while. The hint of a scar lies across his nose just above the covering of his leather face-guard. It continues within sight till lost beneath the rim of his hood. Often garbed in a curious armoured robe, flaxen blonde in colour - perhaps once it had been white, now aged with dust and weather. He too is furnished with a longsword, a dagger and a bow in the field, he can be easily recognized as more than a mere traveler. Though it is unusual to witness him in such attire, it has become more common in the present days to see Vilihad dressed in battle attire, his well weathered leathers over a shirt of fine but sturdy chain, battle gauntlets, and metal greaves over his thick boots. Most of his battle dress is, or at least had once been stained forest green. The colour is still hinted at through the pallid graying of many seasons. To most, he is not an unpleasant man. While it is a rarity, when his face is naked of hood and mask he will smile more often than not. His hair is deep ruddy brown, yet patches of silvery grey grow as strands throughout. His youthful demeanor betrays the winters this man has weathered. There is little to distinguish him as being of Gondor, his friendship with the Rohirrim and fleeting encounters with the Elven folk keep his true origins a mystery to all but the very cunning, or dearest of friends. |
|---|
Background
Vilihad had once, perhaps a long time ago, been a companion to the Rangers of the South. He took peace in their nightly rituals, and although he would never admit it, he also reveled in the excitement of their incursions into the lands across Anduin; and standing against those who would enter the lands of Ithilien. As with all his company Vilihad was always well skilled with his bow and had some mastery over camouflage and stealth. It was with his company and within their sacred and secret caverns of Henneth Annûn that he heard - or rather felt his calling.
As he stared deep, as though through the dark crystalline surface of the pool in his time of contemplation it had seemed to him as though a voice, or many voices, had spoken to him through the cold blackness of the pool's depths. His body and mind were then at once filled with both horror, and conviction - for he feared what he had in that instant come to know, and in the same twinkling of a moment resolved himself to his core to swear a silent, holy oath against the image in his brain. The unliving, walking dead, malevolent shades and spirits. Corruption given form, often body. The wights, the wraiths, and not least of all the ones that practiced that black sorcery, 'necromancy', to bring these creatures into existence.
He left before the dawn, Henneth Annûn, he left and would not go back. He would no longer claim to be of Gondor or its line of southern Rangers. He was simply, henceforth, Vilihad, Enemy of The Dead and vagabond.
Perhaps the Rangers of Ithilien have not given up their search for their former comrade. Perhaps they want his neck in a noose for deserting his post. So far, he has traveled unhindered. So far.
| Friends | Few |
|---|---|
| Relatives | None |
| Rivals/Enemies | The walking dead |
| Loves | |
|---|---|
| Hates | |
| Motivation | |
| Quotes | "Long days and pleasant nights to you". |
