Riverlynn

Riverlynn Razi
Status	Active
Race	Elf
Gender	Female
Guild	undisclosed
Instance	Prime
Relatives	Caidie

"Love her, but leave her wild."
 

Description

You see Riverlynn Razi, Night of Elanthia, an Elf.

Riverlynn has pointed ears, a pair of silver spectacles with rectangular lenses that accents thick-lashed sea green eyes and a small nose. Her rich mocha brown hair is hip-length and unruly, and is worn in a tousled mass of locks that tumbles over her shoulders. She has fair skin and a delicately thin figure.
She is quite petite for an Elf.
She appears to be young.
Her right wrist has a tattoo of a gentleman white rabbit drinking tea from a fine porcelein cup.
She is in good shape.

She is wearing a three part pendant containing a round diamond set between light and dark amethysts, a short layered ivory bloodlace dress wrapped with a dark leather underbust corset, an aged whimsy ring engraved with two chubby cheeked Elven lasses holding hands, a mood ring, a lifesculpted ring of silverwood leaves cradling an Elamiri rose and a pair of combat boots with lace-trimmed stockings peeking out over the top.

Come With Me

A young girl emerged from the shadows, alone but unafraid. Thick lashes frame eyes the color of the sea, wild masses of dark curls falling in her face. She blinked a few times, eyes adjusting to the light, tucking her hair behind pointed ears with her bony fingers. She made her way through crowds of people, a scrawny girl, all but defenseless, she watched as sparks flew from finger tips, strangers murmuring words under their breath or chanting at the sky while unnatural things occurred all around, wounds vanishing from skin with just a touch, the dead being raised in the streets, eyes focused on things her eyes could not see. In a situation that would give birth to fear in most, she was only curious. Moseying through the dark alleys of town, she stumbled upon a beggar; he beckoned her with a smile and a wink. Looking her over closely he said, “We aren’t so different, you and me.” She raised an eyebrow in his direction, not certain of what he meant. “The only magic we possess, is the magic we make others believe we have,” and with the wave of his an empty hand by the side of her face, she closed her eyes with an involuntary flinch only for a second and when she opened them a gold coin rests in his palm. “Come with me, child.” He said as he slipped into the darkness, looking around and finding nowhere else to go…she followed.

Sister of My Heart

She was her home.

When the world didn't make sense or the days ran too long, it was her that she would come to to rest her spinning head.

Lost inside her thoughts, so often confused by the winged creature pounding inside her ribs, "Don't ever think you are alone here." said the girl with storms in her eyes and the wary girl knew she meant it. They were both so young when they found each other, idealistic and full of wonder but very much alone. She would collect broken people like abandoned toys, patching them up and loving them in her simple way, it was easy to find peace in her presence. She was everything that the girl with sea-colored eyes thought a person should be, passionate, strong, protective, and oh so very wise. If there was ever a question about how the world worked, she knew it and said it in simple words that made everything so clear. In that clarity they were able to get through anything, all the joys and heartache a life of adventure could offer.

Just a Human

There was frenzy about him wherever he was, people wanted him to take notice in them and she was used to being noticed. She was a wild child and a free spirit, never one to shy away from the sun and he was masked in mystery, the strong and silent type.

She watched him for a moment, wondering what the fuss was about… “What –was- the fuss about?” She nibbled on her lip and gazed at him thoughtfully. “He’s just a human, an old one at that.” She thought to herself. “Always talking about theories…Men and their dreams” She rolled her sea-green eyes. “And you can almost smell the voodoo clinging to his copper skin.” wrinkling her nose. “Hrm, his eyes are pretty though…” gnawing on her lip some more, “almost the color of whiskey.” And it wasn’t long until she was drunk on the thought of him. Soon her mind was spinning with his theories and he had twisted her dreams. He’d taken the care-free girl and opened her eyes, filled them with purpose and a hunger for justice. Her gypsy heart made a home in his world and she intended to stay with the fierce stubbornness of child who refuses to go to sleep, and by the time her tired eyes fluttered closed he was used to her being there....

....Like every child eventually grows to learn that life is a twisted and messy thing, the girl with the sea-green eyes eventually woke from her comfortable slumber with a feeling of hangover. Her gypsy heart set free to roam in the aftermath of crumbled dreams and scraps of love letters. She glanced down at her bony fingers, her hands felt so empty for the first time since swimming in those whiskey colored eyes. She squared her slender shoulders and willed her bare feet to cross the barren field of ash in search of a place in herself to call home.

A Tale of a Gnome

He was like the sun took a living form and roamed the lands on two tiny feet.

Pattering through life, he was a curious mixture of contentment, wisdom, restlessness, and the carefreeness of a child. Resisting his charm was like trying to breathe under water. His dark eyes sparkled like fireflies in the night. She had known him for as long as she could remember, his title maybe different, but his spirit always the same…Soothsayer, Nobleman, or Sneak, but still always him. And she adored him. He spent many of his days beside Lord Bazzington, causing mischief and mayhem, pew pew pewing all throughout the realms or devoting his time and effort to the great Eluned, with whom he was her flipper. There was a buzz of excitement when he reached over and gently clasped your hand. Where would this journey lead? Usually death, but it didn't seem to hurt as bad when you had tears from laughter rolling down your cheeks.

 

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