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Berihor
Berihor
| Name | Berihor |
|---|---|
| Occupation | Metalsmith |
| Age | Young |
| Race | Elf |
|---|---|
| Residence | No fixed abode. |
| Kinship | None. |
| Outward Appearance | Delicate features juxtaposed against a broad stature present an appearance that has a feeling of imbalance. The straight posture, the chest held proudly forward, the chin exactly perpendicular the sturdy neck below all hint towards self-importance and physical strength. Slender as his neck is wide his tapering skull is distinguished from his throat by an elegantly carved jaw line suggesting a grace and fragility his body does not.
Locks of rich brown hair flowing loosely to just beyond his shoulders frame a warm face. His features are slight; thin lips of a pale red that only hint at blood pulsing below, a nose which is narrow and true, and cheekbones etched high upon his face. Pale grey eyes betray his youth; displaying as they do a spark of impatience and of curiosity that is familiar in those who have seen barely a few millennia. |
|---|
Background
| Friends | closest friends have left middle-earth, either to Valinor or to the earth. |
|---|---|
| Relatives | None remain that have yet to travel to the west. |
| Rivals/Enemies | All that is dark. |
| Loves | Water in all its forms. Its fluid motion sings to him, the bouncing playful melody of a clear, shallow, pebble bed stream his favourite tune. |
|---|---|
| Hates | |
| Motivation | |
| Quotes |
