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Tirayel Vairehen (1-3)
Created 1:Fri Mar 17 00
2: Tue Sep 11 01
3: Tue Jan 08 02
Status Inactive
Race Elf
Hometown 1-3: Cillidellia
Classes Mage
Last Seen 2004
Followed Cordir


Mud Contributions:

Current Description:

Date Unknown:
A slender dark shadow dances into your mind. Even for the timeless elves, she seems young. But her cultured grace is tempered with wild fury and new eyes could not blaze with such soul-hatred. The unearthly glow of countless strands of power and destiny shift and course just below her skin like crawling sigils reflected against storm clouds, and her smile is both predatory and seductive.

Her garb speaks of elven nobility and mystic scholarship, vile corruption and the abandon of nightshade capering. The fire of her violet eyes springs from sockets stained soot-black, trailing tear-tracks across her porcelain skin and a bone-white blaze crowns her midnight tresses.

She regards you for a moment with unfocused eyes, frozen unholy-still in mid-step of a timeless dance: the leaping doe, the coursing wolf, the fickle moon. Then she melts, flowing into an easy welcoming grin and her eyes merely sparkle with some secret mirth.

She sweeps a swift sketch of a formal ballroom bow and greets you with a voice like crystal flutes by starlight: "Well met. Your Thread blazes bright in Her Weavings. May I be of some service tonight, oh Fortunate One?"

Is she laughing at you? Or herself? At some irony of Fate? Or is she simply insane, driven mad by unspeakable anguish?
Tirayel leads a charmed existence.
Tirayel is in perfect health...

Misty shreds of sea-cloud cling in the blowing breeze to the deep evergreens on the hillsides of the Cillidellian Wood. The smoke of elvish incense curls in a shaft of moonlight and suddenly a face resolves in the smoke: dark flickering eyes and pale skin, with uncanny silver traceries and webworks of energy writhing below the skin.

A figure steps forth from the darkness, slim, graceful, and yet worn with long travels, a bitterness lurking in her eyes.

She mummers "May the Triat guard your coming in and your going forth. May the Lady return to you the prayers you life weaves in the Pattern. And my the pains Nash grants you carve beauty from your soul." An indigo star flashes overhead.
Tirayel has a special twinkle in her eye.
Tirayel is in perfect health.

a pillar of silver and ebon flame
no, a figure solidifies within, and the memory of flame begins to fade
She is slender, quiet, graceful
Her eyes focus in from the distance to gaze softly at you
her mouth forms around strange syllables
untill she settles on a languge you know
"I've been traveling, <pause> Strange Paths" she says
Her eyes close, her head bows

As she raises her opened eyes, they blaze with a strange light
and the Sigla-Web tatooed on her forehead scintillates and writhes
"I will speak on your behalf to the Lady of Fate
Perhaps She can keep the Weaving of your Pattern clear from harm"
<in old-common> "May the Triat guard your going forth and your coming in:
The Wyrm guide your steps
The Weaver make wonder and beauty of your choices
The Wyld cut cleanly when your time has come"

As her head turns away you hear her murmur
"His shadow, so Dark behind the stars"
and indigo lightning plays about her fingers.
Her body begins to sketch the movements of a dance:
strange and formal, even these few steps
echo a dark and unsettling passion.
She stops abruptly, remembering where she is.
"Is there something I can do for you?" she asks
Tirayel has a special twinkle in her eye.
Tirayel is in perfect health.

2000 - Exact Date Unknown:
Light dapples dimly among the mossy trunks in this ancient forest.
You see a pair of golden eyes staring sharply at you.
Stepping down from a shaded bole (or was that floating?)
this hooded figure glowers at first, but eases into a faintly bitter smile.
A short dancer's bow and spreading of open hands
reveal dark rich materials and exotic hides,
well tailored but spattered and worn with travel,
and a pair of weapons with well-worn grip and hilt:
a dark humming crossbow and ancient long-sword.
Flickering traceries of light play about her fingers.
A silver star shines defiantly from the brow beneath the hood,
and indigo eyes shot with dark gold and sea-blue smolder guardedly.
High elven cheeks are brightly lit by a sunbeam as she leans toward you.
"How have you been?" she asks. We will be talkng about you.
And yet she too is still waiting, marking the miles and years on a road
toward reunion with wonder.
Tirayel has a special twinkle in her eye.
Tirayel is in perfect health.

WHO Lists:

Elf [    Ma:10 Ra: 9    ] [LN][ Cordir] Tirayel na'Vaire, Child of Fate               08/22/2000
Elf [    Ma:12 Ra: 9    ] [LN][ Cordir] Tirayel naVaire, Child of Fate                10/11/2000
Elf [    Ma:15 Ra: 9    ] [LN][ Cordir] Tirayel Vairehen, Taoiseach of Fate           02/28/2001
Elf [       Ma: 2       ] [LN][ Cordir] Tirayel the Elf Maiden                        09/19/2001
Elf [       Ma: 7       ] [LN][ Cordir] Tirayel Vairehen, Chosen of Fate for Rebirth  09/25/2001
Elf [       Ra: 6       ] [LN][ Cordir] Tirayel reborn to Fate                        01/10/2002
Elf [       Ra: 9       ] [LN][ Cordir] Tirayel, Cordir's fated dancer                01/15/2002

Character History:

My Atman followed that of Cordir into this Realm, though in a much later life than She. One of my first childhood experiences, at the age of 14, was witnessing the Union of Cordir and Deamhan in a Huge Beautiful Cavern, standing in reflective water. I had been swept up in the Shadows of Fate to that place. It was there that I first heard words of Old Thoras, and was bitten by a silvery spider of the blood magic of that Union. When I recovered my sense of this mortal Realm, I held a black swagger stick of Potent magic.

I went away to school in Camp Tolanreal, earning two Diplomatic Seals from Algenara and all the awards the camp had to give, specializing in Battle magics. In the 4th grade, I gave rein to my curiosity, then faced my fears and walked into Lleheibwen. The hounds of hell, wraiths, ghosts, skeletons and minor demons all fell helpless before my black stick of Fate and mystic shields. I found the 5th accession in the 3rd level of that realm, and returned, failing to unlock a door on the second level. I was dismayed when I returned to descend deeper into that dark hole (after studying with Sombra) that I was blocked from entry to the Coliseum. Perhaps some year I will enter the Demon Realm from another gate.

I began to study magic in Cillidellia itself. How pleasantly surprised I was to find the same Cavern in which I had seen the Lady wed so near my home, and practice the ways of magic and the Realm, meditating and exercising in those caverns and the meadow on the hill top above them. I was struck one day with the Wanderlust: a desire to see beyond the horizon of my home. Consulting the webs of fate and arcane maps, I found an interest in the grey mark of the lost city of Altibia. Though handy with a canoe, my youthful endurance did not match the demands of the mighty Maelmedorian Sea, and I was swept away to the East. In my despair I called into the Night that Fate might rescue me. And the Night answered.

I awoke on the shores of the Northen Continent. I explored carefully from there, hoping to find my way (by memory of the ancient maps) to the Elven city of Loth Lorien, where I might return safely to the Guild Hall. I found a cursed lighthouse, and learned its secret just in time to leave, as the sun sank below the horizon, and walked among robbers and merchants on the Great Western Road, avoiding hostile natives near Ara City and Og. I avoided the Half-Elf camp, fearful that the fingers of these shabby half-elves might be even lighter in my purse than those of Safehaven had been. In the Haon'Dor forest north of there, I met my Fate again.

A giant spider caught me in her webs, and I sank below this plane of awareness in those silken shrouds. The Shadow of Fate brought me back to myself, but I walked in a daze for several years. I offered up prayers of thankfulness to Cordir and sacrificed the "survival" award of my school days. The spider bites of birth and death still leave some venom in my veins, a sliver sparkle flowing with the blood. Focus, awareness, Dream.

An Altered State, elusive yet unmistakable.

In the following years I earned my keep in Cillidellia picking berries, helping in the kitchen, and doing pest control on the local sprite population. They seem so cute, but as in the Labyrinth, the vicious little things bite! And what they do to the food if they are not kept under check! Pfaugh! Tis said they carry disease, and I hate and fear those recurrent fevers more than anything! I dread that one day I shall not awaken from a fevered sleep…

But the time my heart sang was when I grew closer to joining the Chosen of Fate, practicing in the caves and woods, visiting the temples of the Realm, meeting and speaking with the Chosen. Elladan speaks beautiful Elvish, and Tripper's Tiger Den is beautifully comfortable. (I shall be very sad to be barred entry to that place, but that may be the cost of following my Fate)

Other temples spoke to me: Tamar, Nicademus, Tokugawa, Robert. Serentity, Boromir, other Chosen and Cirth most of all were delightful in almost every way.

As I studied in the Temple of Fate, I gained a new respect for the depths of complexity in Nash, and the spark in my blood caught fire in answer. Here was a Dance worthy of the Realm: a dark and perfect beauty behind the Maia, the illusory world. Solanthas’ temple spoke to me, rising in the wild dances of the Northern elves, but in Okk's Temple of Life I first glimpsed a Shadow of Nash Himself. As Cordir is like a Mother, Sister, and Beloved to my soul, here was Father, Stranger, and Partner. I find the Black Conclave crude in their bellowing, and crass in their sick interpretation of Nash's example. Orpik once summoned me to Safehaven, dripping with plague, and followed me everywhere, leering and winking. Disgusting. He even chased me back to the Guild and around the Temple level after I quaffed back, finally being shaken off only when I entered Cordir's Temple.

Many are the threads of color that have woven through my life from those days. A smoky obsidian of Lothar, an elven warrior, now squired to the Conclave, the deep ruby of Star DarkClaw; turquoise for the flying Giant Shaman Dreamwalker Anatole, a blond dread-locked Storm Giant of the Isles who dreams of me; blue-white opal for Tien, monkey-hero Warric of Unity who would be his rival; the tiger-eye of an amulet I brought from Cillidellia to Asherah, the Tiger Cow; the hot sapphire of Bliss's blessing on my crossbow; the cool clear grey of Cirth's eyes; and through it all, the solid central cord of midnight black, Nyx Shadow Dancer.

I reached the 9th ascension on a windswept cliff-top, battling a majestic stag before the Keeper of the Scrolls as lightning fell in the setting sun. I knew my time had come, and pledged myself to walk the coils of the Wyrm in Your Temple.

That path has been longer than I expected, through my own naïve folly most of all. I had already visited Emdeville, searching for the Poetess Cistara, who's works I had found in the Guild. Nydia was a pleasant stroll after flying over Loch Raven. I soared the western cliffs and the Aaraocan were kind enough to toss me a token of their fine weaponsmiths. Nyx lead me to the Clan Pool of Skull Top, where Vorax happened through. My troubles came when I wandered alone. First, I found that a flock of Aaraocan sentries are more to be feared than a pair of their Red Guard. Later, as I wandered looking for Gla-Shorn's Realm I met a gnomish guru high on a mountaintop and also the Ancient King, Frisnor. When Boromir orchestrated the recovery of my corpse after that meeting, my swagger stick had disappeared. I was heartbroken, but continued on my path, finding evidence of grave violence in the Lineaoth Valley.

As I neared the 10th ascension, my thoughts turned to the Ranger's path Nash and his followers had called me to. Nyx offered to take me to Jack, though I was unable to journey at that time. Later, I sailed to the Northern Continent and asked the help of Argus, an elven Ranger-Mage-Thief of Life. I prepared myself mystically to find Jack, and followed Argus to him. Argus was generous with an Altibian long sword and several items of rougher battle use: less intelligence, more damage and dexterity. He also took a token payment of my lucky mithril bracelet.

I was crushed to find magic, and the study of Thoras, cut off from me. I had not hours, but years before I could learn both. That day approaches and I have learned a Peace in this Ranger's path, walking the wider world, but it has not yet come and I yearn for it keenly.

I have wandered the Southern Continent, hunting with the Moose hunters, walking New Altibia, looking in the face of a Mad God. And yet my heart ever returns to the Chosen. And their Lady. I feel a destiny in the North…

Okk's Challenge

In answer to Lord Okk's challenge, Tirayel wrote this of herself:
<Tiryael bows, sweeping low in the formality of the ancient elvish court
I return from far travels, deep in the forests and across the choking dust of desert plains, and offer this gift-of-myself to you all, and in answer to Nakka's challenge.
I am Tirayel Vairhen ("she who watches, the Weaver's Eye" in Quenya - the ancient elvish tongue), a student of Life and Magic in the forest towers of Cillidellia, a huntress and Nashite Heretic: my love of Nash has come through my Goddess, the heretical Cordir who will not bow to the Arch-lich, and through visions in the old Temple of Life's Blood, and in the exquisite pains of death. I dance between the worlds, and wander the ways of the Realm. I am hunted and dance and dodge in the mists, or flee laughing, or die in agony. I spin the webs of Fate between the folk of the Realm, and write descriptions. I have loved vampires and Tigers, Giants and Dreamwalkers, and love my Goddess above all others - my soul followed Hers to this Realm. I am the shadow across the stars, child of night and void, learning the lore of my ancestors - the dragonriders and spider-delvers. I care for the young, learn from the old, and laugh with those who will dance the winds with me. The minions of Molo have been my scourge, but with the love of those I honor, I have risen from the ashes each time to begin the dance again, and slake my thirst for blood in the prey about me. I have been consumed by the Spiders of Haon'Dor and tasted the poison blood of the spiders of Orthrak's Spire, and swooned with visions of the Spider-Spirit "Guardian". Her chittering whispers still guide me through the darkness... Daughter of Tal-Maloka, Tal-Nira has tasted my tears in the forest, and Tal-Lenow has claimed my Fate. I stand at the gates of the Spirit World, a student of the Triat.
<she bows again, perfect in form, but her face bearing the distraction of pain and mystic visions
I remain, as ever, a sister of the Chosen.


Initial: Tirayel says (in elven),'By my Eye, and for the Wyrm: I will become the Student of Fate. I will purify my body with a vegetarian diet. I will spend a quarter of my practices on Old Thoras until I have mastered the language'.
Tirayel says (in elven), 'I will study the ways of the Realm in my Dreams, reading at least one help file when I sleep'.
Tirayel says (in elven), To learn is to teach: I will approach every young mage or elf I see to offer advise and assistance'.
Tirayel says (in elven), 'By my Ear and for the Weaver: I will become the Agent of Fate. The Day comes when we will have need of those who may support us. I will seek to build ties with like-minded followings and worthy unaligned characters'.
Tirayel says (in elven), 'I will report what I learn to the Ordained'.
Tirayel says (in elven), 'I will refuse no request to dance, save from the diseased'.
Tirayel says (in elven), 'By my Hand and for the Wyld: I will become the Weapon of Fate.'
Tirayel says (in elven), 'I will learn the ways of Nash, walking this Ranger's path'.
Tirayel says (in elven), 'I will walk without fear in every land of this Realm'.
Tirayel says (in elven), 'I will learn the ways of combat with Adventurers, strictly observing the Lady's rules on killing'.
Tirayel says (in elven), 'I will enchant the weapons of Neutrals and the Young whenever asked'.


  1. Will learn Thoras.
  2. Will never eat flesh.
  3. Will read at least one help file every time she sleeps.
  4. Will speak to every young (lvl 1-5) mage she sees, answering questions where she is able.
  5. Will turn down no request to dance, save from the diseased.
  6. Will be a ranger.
  7. Will walk without fear in all the lands of the Realm.
  8. Will enchant the weapons of Neutrals and Newbies (1-5) whenever asked. / Took on all new geasa on 01/08/02:
  9. Will join the Cartographers of Fate in researching maps of the Realm and will post journal entries of her travels and studies, once per outrealm month.
  10. Will serve as a Scribe to Fate, offering help with descriptions, restrings, area writing, etc, with a promised response within one outrealm week.
  11. Will become a Dancer: keeping her ‘escape kit’’s maintenance a priority, fleeing from dangerous PK attempts or mobs (ie, not die so much!) Should I fail to protect the skin the Goddess has granted me, I will do penance of service in the Adventurers' Guild: three hours for each mobdeath, nine hours for each PK death.
  12. Will not bring joy to the Godkiller: No word or deed of mine will bring shame on the Chosen - I will show the utmost respect to the Immortals, show the demeanor of the Chosen to the curs of the Realm. Should I fail to uphold this vow, I will do penance of service in the Adventurer’s Guild of twenty seven hours if I bring shame on the following before the Greater Gods.


  • Tirayel was sponsored into the Chosen of Fate by Nyx, Noctus, and Cordir.
  • Tirayel's covenant ward was created using the blood of Cordir, Nyx, and Abender Stormreaver. Cordir says, 'Immortal, Ordained, Destined. The three aspects of the family within the Chosen.' The Ward was set into place upon Tirayel's face.
  • Tirayel, though very low level, was granted the honor and responsibility of being one of the Taoiseach.
  • Tirayel was part of the ritual when Noctus was granted a Trial of Triat Mastery.

Player Provided Information:

Personal Timeline:

06/10/2000: Tirayel reaches 9th level.
07/17/2000: Tirayel is killed by Ahmed. Tirayel joins the Chosen of Fate.
09/25/2000: Tirayel is PK'd by Synge.
01/03/2001: Tirayel is attacked by Harmful and by Kirsch, but survives.
01/05/2001: [ 5] Tirayel: Grrr!!! / Fri Jan 5 11:53:23 2001 / To followers of: Cordir / Well, Omnipotence managed it this time. So it's back to eq square one...(and thus my fresh new Covenant is gone...) My eyes were off the screen for a second and a half, and the very invis cleric summoned me.... then 2-3hits quickly... Well, I suppose that's enough whining for now... I'll be happy to see y'all soon! Tiny little elf mage of Fate, -- Tir. (P.S. Hmmm, this is the second time I've died while ftell chatting with Garvax. Maybe I should only do so from safe! :)
02/17/2001: Tirayel of the Chosen hosts a story telling contest. First place goes to Brianna of the Tigers, second place to Cirth of the Chosen, and third place to Gregar of the Tigers.
03/15/2001: Tirayel is attacked by Crackle, but survives.
04/10/2001: [ 3] Tirayel: attacks / Tue Apr 10 17:25:04 2001 / To followers of: Cordir / Okenfold hit me with a mute, apparently by accident and then returned and attacked me again (weakly) while I was already injured by a mob. While in that fight, Orgrim attacked me. I fled, but he attacked again before my recall went through and thus, I died again. Noctus is being quite sweet helping me reeq again... -- T.V.
09/15/2001: Tirayel rejoins the Chosen, her character having been purged.
09/21/2001: Tirayel levels to 5 mage again, having recreated the character and rejoined Cordir.

Player Information:

Tirayel played from Colorado, and was related by marriage to Cordir.