Name: Valerys Ellondiir

Occupation: Merchant, Caravan Leader, Information Broker, Assassin, Mercenary, Spy, Jack-of-All-Trades

Actual Age/Apparent Age: Over 500/ Early to mid twenties

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Flexible

Race/Species: Nomadic Desert Dark Elf

Appearance: Any day when you can see the graceful stalking stride of the Dark Elves of the deep desert coming is a good day. It is those times when they are at your back, unknown to you until it is too late, that you must fear. Valerys fancies himself a dashing individual, cutting a charming figure, and he's not altogether wrong. Though his opinion of himself is almost guaranteed to be greater than that of the casual observer. It is when he finds himself in the city, and in companionable repose, that that figure can be best observed. Desert life, and travel, do not lend themselves to lovely outfits and perfectly tailored appearances, after all.

But when he can strip himself from the ingenious suits his people wear while traversing the dunes, and remove the headwear and face masks, Valerys gets to let out his more ornate tastes. His lower body is often contained in some variety of form fitting trousers, whether made of the hide of some beast, or a lighter, more breathable fabric depends entirely upon his mood. His upper body however is often, not so much hidden, as accentuated by looser, lighter shirts or tunics, sometimes even simply a vest of gauzy and mildly see through materials, or the most luscious of silks.

His hair, which is a white so pure it isn't often seen in the desert, untainted, is most often elaborately braided in a multitude of small braids, which can themselves be pulled back to leave the clean, sharp lines and angles of a decidedly elvish face bare. Of course, his elvish face is the pure black of a dark elf, and even in the deserts, where his people are a known presence, it is not that common to see. In the harsh, sharp light of day, he presents a visage not unlike a piece of darkness cut from the cloth and left to move about independently. The only color the soft blush of purple or blue hue, where the blood runs closest to the surface.

But at night, it is a different tale. Under the softer light of the moon and stars, the skin of the dark elf almost glitters, with faint natural markings not unlike stars in the night sky, which lends to their other nickname, Night Elves.

Valerys in particular is a tall specimen, standing an inch or two over six feet. Where the fairer skinned cousins of the dark elves tend toward being lithe and slender, willowy even, dark elves are built more solid. Wider in the shoulder, heavier in the muscle. Not so much as human men can tend toward, but certainly muscled for an elf. Valerys certainly proves this, as both life as a desert nomad, and his own conditioning, have left him notably well toned and solid. Riding that line where if he were only slightly larger, he might not prove so deft and graceful as he needs to be.

The snow white braids of his hair fall clear to his waist, if left unbound, but are often pulled back to expose the sharp points of his ears, and the painfully sharp lines of cheek bone, into a solid yet no less lovely chin. His nose is sharp without being narrow, upturned ever so slightly, and his eyes are large in a face that is the definition of not just elvish beauty, but dark elvish beauty. Those eyes, which miss very little, and have a tendency to stare through a person, are a dark amber, varying between appearing more gold, or more orange, depending on his mood, and the light, and the emotions at play.

Valerys wears a number of pieces of jewelry (hoop earrings in those pointed ears as well), and at least a few blades that can be easily seen, likely more that can not, and anyone with a sense for, or an eye for, magick can easily tell that much of him is enchanted, and in fact he himself seems to glow with a magickal presence.

Regardless of whether he is in leathers, or silks, or even the unique full body suit that his people wear when wandering the desert, there is always a note of elvish design and themes in the work. The quality always falling within that realm of elvish perfection, and even when dirty and worn from long use, the beauty of the garments is indisputable. But unlike the more common elves, dark elvish designs while still flowing and lovely, tend to also carry sharper points, harsher details, and though they might be far removed from their subterranean brothers in other parts of the lands, often times carry some pattern of webs. Some even go so far as to incorporate themes of spiders, or as is more common for the desert dark elves, scorpions and snakes, into their attire.

Personality: Valerys is one of those big personalities that most people tend to either love, or hate. He walks through life seemingly amused by everything, and most everything seems to roll off his back. He is capable of solemn moments, and often studies the people around him, assessing and evaluating, whether it seems like it or not. But he can also, and often does, play the eccentric charmer. This can however lead to him coming across as egotistical, which he certainly wouldn't deny.

Beyond the veneer, Valerys is fierce, and loyal to those he deems worthy. He is stubborn, and manipulative, and pragmatic to a degree. He likes to believe that there is always a path and a means, to getting what he wants without having to sacrifice anything to achieve it. As is just a truth of life, that is not always the case, but he will exhaust every possibility there is before resigning himself to that truth in a situation.

A true hedonist, that part of his personality is certainly not just for show. Valerys loves a good time, and unless matters require otherwise, he sees no reason why he shouldn't indulge himself in whatever strikes his fancy in the moment.

Val is not evil, but he is not what anyone would necessarily consider a good person either. Most of his decisions can be boiled down to what benefits him the most, or what benefits his people. But he does not go back on an agreement unless the terms of that agreement are violated by the other party first. However, he will seek the most profitable agreement he can get first and foremost. If that happens to be from the villain, rather than the victim, he doesn't see how that is his problem.

Regardless of everything else, Val has dreams, plans, and he egotistically sees them as the best path for not only himself, but his people, and doesn't care over much if his own people agree with him or not, nothing will stand in his path to innovation. Evolution. Everything he does is calculated, shrewd, and with purpose. He is always, always playing the long game.

Abilities/Skills:

Martial Prowess: Valerys, like all elves, is dexterous, agile, and incredibly fast and precise. All his senses are sharp, and his awareness of the world around him is incredibly acute. Unlike most elves, he is also stronger and hardier. This is a trait of his people, born from the alliances and deals with dark fae beings and forces all those many years ago. In addition to this, Val is incredibly proficient with blades, be it a sword (which he always carries), or daggers (which he likely carries). He is also skilled in a number of exotic unarmed forms, specific not only to Dark Elves, but some that have been adapted and honed and are unique to the Desert Tribes. Unlike many of his brethren, Val prefers a true bow to the small crossbows many dark elves favor, and his specific preferred choice is a shorter recurve bow. Regardless of what he is using, he does it with at least a moderately skilled hand, and a swift and deadly precision, which is a trait dark elves the world over have come to be well known for.

Hunting/Tracking: Val has lived a long time, and while not all of it has been spent in the deserts he was born to, a great portion of it has been. He is well versed in hunting and tracking in general, but especially through the desert climates he is most familiar with.

Stealth: Similarly, the dark elves are notorious for leaving no trace of their movements, when they deem it necessary, and his people often make deals with those looking to move across the deserts unseen, unheard, unknown. Val is especially experienced in matters of stealth, and espionage, whether that means knowing where to stand and how to use light and shadow to conceal himself, or how to play a mark and charm his way into a place, or out of a place. Some of his magicks and enchanted materials are also particularly designed to bolster these skills.

Enchanting: Dark Elves are not necessarily any more magickally proficient than any other elf, but they opened doorways to darker magicks, and learned them from darker, more alien sources. Different dark elves have cultured this in different ways to fit their lifestyles, which means the desert tribes magicks tend toward surviving the harsh environment, defending themselves, some offensive abilities like shifting sands or causing windstorms with biting sands that rend flesh, and a lot of magick toward being practically, if not literally, invisible. But where Val's truest passion lies is in enchanting items for his own use. And though he is proficient in it, he does not bother utilizing those skills for coin or trade, he has no desire to be an enchanter for the masses for profit. He'll seek his profit in otherways, using his own enchanted items to help him accomplish his goals.

Magick: While enchanting is his passion, Val is not inept in other forms of magick, and he will utilize them on occasion. Specifically, his people draw power directly from the leylines that run between the realms like veins, and the world around them, to cause, change, or manipulate the world around them. Val uses this predominantly to go unseen, to traverse short distance by means of shadow, to divert attention, and in extreme cases he might release a blast of wind if it benefits the situation.

Enchanted Items:

• Sword -  Val carries a long curved blade, akin to a Shamshir, that is heavily enchanted, though he can not claim its craftmanship. The blade is an older artifact that Val acquired and took into his service. The blade is semi-sentient, never dulls, is resistant to magicks cast upon it, or standing against it, and if it kisses flesh carries a paralytic effect, not unlike certain venoms known among varying serpent species in the desert. He has no idea what its original name was, but he calls it 'The Viper's Kiss'. The sword is not so sentient as to possess a complex personality, or to talk to Val, so much as it has a limited, base desire and impulse, and tries to actively dominate its wielder. Anyone who lacks the mental fortitude to cow the blade, would succumb to it's poison and ultimately die. The blade craves to be used, and tries its best to incite it's carrier to violence in a situation that calls for it, and the blade has a long enough history of very proficient users, that it bolsters its current wielder's skill and proficiency.
  
  
• Kukris - Val carries a pair of wavy bladed kukris that he did enchant personally. Nothing incredibly complex, the blades are extremely sharp, never dull, can cut through any mundane substance, and possess a trait that leaves any wound they deal to keep bleeding, unless specific attempts are made to stop and stem the blood.
  
  
• Short bow - The bow is enchanted to assist the precision of its user, and possesses far more force and range than a bow of its size has any business having.
  
  
• Ear rings - Val has a number of golden hoops in his ears, all of which are enchanted to protect his mind from intrusion. Most of them are stacked, general effects, and some of them are specific (keeping demons, and fae creatures from invading his thoughts, or influencing him through telepathic means). Those who try to read his mind receive babble and incomprehensible hogwash.
  
  
• Boots - His boots are enchanted to further soften already silent steps, so that they make absolutely no sound.
  
  
• Sand Suit - The Dark Elven tribes wear a very tight fitting suit that covers them from head to toe. These suits regulate their temperatures and keep them comfortable, as well as cycling and recycling their bodies natural waters, to help keep them hydrated as they travel (think the Stilsuits, if you're familiar with Dune). These effects are generated through magick, and they even produce more water than would normally be harvested through expended sweat and other fluids. While they do not render the dark elves invisible, they are colored like the desert sands, and possess enchantments that discourage the casual viewer from paying them any attention. They also provide expert traction and footing in a desert environment. These suits are often worn with an over garment, either a cloak, or turban, or both. Some even wear a more traditional desert outfit over the suit, to help keep the secrets of their desert gear.
  
  
• Serpent Bracelet - Val wears a golden serpent bracelet that wraps his right wrist a number of times. It's eyes are exquisite rubies. The enchantment on the bracelet doesn't force anyone to do what he wants, but it makes the weaker willed more receptive to his desires, his opinions, and his suggestions. The bracelet has assisted him in getting out of quite a few tight situations that might otherwise have landed him in a cage.

History: Val was born into his tribe, many many years ago, and yet still long after the division of the Dark Elves, and their migration to the Desert. His people, still an isolated people, if not quite as xenophobic as other dark elves, lived a rather simple existence and seemed content to do so. They were proud, noble, arrogant, and considered themselves absolutely superior to most everyone else in the known world, but none of these beliefs lead them to push the boundaries of their existence, as it did with other dark elves throughout the world.

Sure, there was the occasional raid on a traveling caravan, to strip the goods, perhaps even enslave the people if they held merit. But that was just the harsh nature of desert life. There were just as many occasions when they would invite or join camp with travelers.

For these reasons, most of Val's early life was fairly uneventful. He learned the ways of his people. He learned to fight, to hunt, how to survive in the desert. Things to look for, things to watch for, things to avoid. But from his earliest memories, he had always possessed an uncharacteristic wanderlust. He loved his people, he loved the stark, hard beauty of the desert. But he wanted more. He wanted to see more. To experience more. He would often wander alone, far ahead of his tribe as they moved across the desert. Sometimes going so far on his own that he would come to a distant city well before they were slated to arrive. Or he would encounter another tribe, and travel among them for a time. He was always careful to wear a golden sash on his person, to denote he meant no mischief or violence. A symbol of peace and safe passage, as it were. It lead to him developing somewhat of a reputation, for being a wanderer. It was a reputation that bore some weight, because the desert was a hard enough place to survive with the support of a group, it was unthinkable to do so alone.

When his coming of age finally came around, Valerys shocked his people by choosing to leave. It was not uncommon for those coming of age to explore other tribes, or even to spend time in a city for a time. But Val sought a larger adventure into the wide world than that. He promised, that he would return one day, but he could not put his dreams to rest until he had gone out and found them, for good or ill. He had to see for himself what the world held for him, before he could decide that this life in the desert was right for him. Though they did not fully understand, they did not stand in his way either. It was not their way to disown a person for having a different view, and he would always be welcome among his people. Even if they all thought he was a fool.

Gathering some meager belongings, Valerys left shortly thereafter. In the beginning, much of his travel consisted of exploring the desert, areas he hadn't seen, going further than his people tended to roam. Seeking new and exciting experiences. He marveled at remnants of civilizations that had existed in the past, and fallen to ruin. He explored them, like some intrepid vagabond, seeking long lost artifacts. Some held nothing but dust and the signs of a people who no longer existed. Some did hold artifacts, and he was not above taking them that he might sell them to buy passage to new lands. These early adventures were not without danger, in many of those unexplored places, he would find himself fending off creatures who had made their home of the shells of past peoples. Giant snakes, scorpions, spiders. In some case, other nomadic desert people, some that he knew of, some he had never seen before.

It was in one such occasion, after dispatching scores of monsters, only for more to come, that he found his sword. He had squeezed himself through a narrow passage fallen through an unsteady floor, and ended in a chamber that had clearly seen no light, no passage, no person in years, decades, centuries perhaps. The monsters were too large to follow, and nothing was in the chamber with him, except for the sword. It rested on a raised pedestal, no dust, or stain, or sign of age sat on the blade, leaving it completely at odds with the room around it. When he grabbed the hilt of this beautiful curved piece of death incarnate, his world went dark. Surely this was his end.

To this day, he doesn't entirely remember the exchange that took place. It wasn't entirely verbal, or even coherent. It was a push and pull of wills. Of desires. It was a test, of merit, skill, and compatibility. Apparently, he had passed, and refused to be overtaken. When he woke, on the cold stone floor, the dust had settled, over him and the room at large. The blade rested in his grasp, and though he could feel the pressure of the entity in the blade, it did not try to overtake him. But it was aware that there were monsters left to be dispatched, and felt very strongly that they should go do that. Who was he to argue.

Val could not rightly say how long it went on, but whenever his energy might have waned, his endurance wavered, the blade would fill him with fresh adrenaline and a drive to fight. Ultimately, he slaughtered everything that stood against him, and walked out of the ruins of a forgotten culture, covered in blood, and ichor, his new sword content, as was he, in this new partnership, resting on his hip. Together, they faced a new dawn, and a world of potential new adventures.

Over the coming years, Val has seen many adventures. He has taken passage on ships across the seas, to new cultures far and wide. He has paid for his passage in coin, and in service. He has been a pirate, and a smuggler. He has wandered the wild snow capped mountains, and through lush green forests. He has seen the jungles of his kindred, who seemed to have devolved more than any other Dark Elves, still painting themselves and using crude spears and tools. He had walked the caverns of the subterranean realms, and see the most depraved of his people. Cold. Evil. Malicious. He did not stay with them long. He has been a spy, an assassin, a merchant, a guardian. He has traveled with adventurers. He has settled down a number of times in a long existence, and lived his life in shorter measures, with lesser beings.

And when he finally came back to the Desert, it was with a wealth of knowledge, and wealth in general. Connections far flung across the world. He returned on a boat of his own, bought, built, and paid for to his own design and liking. He returned with lofty goals, and big dreams, and immediately begun laying the groundwork to build something bigger, than the limited views and goals of his desert loving people. Now, many decades since his return to his people, he is finally seeing some of those designs coming to fruition. And so it is time to return to Al-Jalasa, after a long sabbatical among his people, to check on the status and progress of that which he set in place, and has ever worked to establish in the great city.


Other information: It is believed that the elves were originally descended from far more ethereal fae beings, before becoming more grounded in reality, and bound into less mutable physical forms. Over the many, many years, elves established their own communities, colonies, kingdoms, empires even.

Dark Elves, in those early times, were better known as Night Elves, a more dusky skinned sub-species of elf, who lived a far more nocturnal life. They loved nature as much as any elf, but preferred the night sky and the moon to the bright light of day. They were considered to be some of the most beautiful of all the elvish peoples, and were sought after as concubines, and unfortunately, as slaves. Unlike other elves, who while beautiful were colder, lithe and willowy, Night Elves seemed built for the hedonistic dreams of those who beheld them, and admittedly were a lustier bunch among themselves even. With the men being more solidly built, and the women more voluptuous than normal elf girls.

This led to a rather isolated and xenophobic kingdom, to the point that they even had less and less contact with others of the elven communities and kingdoms. And in their isolation and personal pursuits, the night elves opened doors to other realms, older realms, and darker beings. The Elves may have been born of the fae, but the fae that the Night Elves found when they went looking were of a far darker sort. Much like demons, they offered great power, longevity, and anything else that might tempt a person. But it wasn't evil or malignancy in the heart of the dark fae, just chaos, and mischief. They bolstered the Night Elves with power, and prestige. They taught them lost arts, martial and otherwise. But what they did worst of all was buoy the dreams of conquest, and the belief in their supremacy.

Until what had been an isolated kingdom of peace loving elves who wanted little more than to bask in the starlight and see it reflected off the slick sheen of their lover's back while they sought new heights of pleasure... turned into a violent, domineering and newly dangerous people who sought to expand, and absorb, and trod over other peoples of the world. Elf and man alike. No longer would they be slaves to humans who were captivated by their beauty, and no longer would their fair skinned cousins rule the vast majority of the elvish lands, with them as a mere after thought.

This incitement led to years and years of brutal wars among the elven people, and it certainly spilled over into the rest of the world. Early on, the Night Elves had a strong advantage, in that nobody expected the skill and ferocity they brought to bear against the other elves. They underestimated them, and they paid for it. But soon enough they rallied, and eventually, the Night Elves uprising was crushed, as was their kingdom, and the people were far flung to the edges of known land, in order to save themselves from a complete ethnic cleansing.

Some went underground, and lived on to inspire horrific tales of brutal subterranean dark elves, fierce, evil, and depraved. Others went on to form new, equally xenophobic communities in the far reaches of civilization, in the jungles, and wilds.

Some, like Valerys's people, went to the deserts, far from most Elven lands, and crafted a completely new existence out of little more than sand, and will.

There are many Tribes of Dark Elves, wandering far and wide among the deserts. For many years, there was often conflict among them, unless they were gathered at their sacred home. The sacred space where all Tribes are safe from internal dispute lies deep in the wastes of the desert, far beyond where most could reach and this is accomplished through not entirely mundane means. The Desert itself is harsh, and difficult, and the stretch to the Dark Elves communal home is long, devoid of shelter, or water, to any but the most experienced wanderer. But beyond that, there is magick baked into the lands surrounding their home, that turn all but the most determined from their course, without them even realizing that they've changed their direction, or their mind. If one does push past, they are met with sandstorms, giant scorpions, snakes that do not shy from confrontation, and possess venom so deadly that a single bite is most assuredly a death sentence, less divine intervention save your soul.

But should you make it, you would find a vast oasis, with stone buildings, wooden huts, more temporary tents, and a large sheer faced mountain with a variety and network of caverns cut into it. Crystalline pools dot the land, and large palms shade the lush grass of the oasis. There is an abundance of fruits, coconuts, and the like, and the older among the dark elves retire to the oasis, to tend it's beauty, as well as the livestock that they keep there.

In more recent years, Val has personally overseen an effort to curb the violence between the tribes, and meld them into a more cohesive network, benefiting one another, and turning their sights toward growth and advancement.

Dark Elves in general are a well established concern among the surface races, not the least of which inspired by the more violent and horrific stories that stem from the subterranean brethren in various areas of the world. Those who live in the desert regions and are passingly familiar with the Desert Tribes know that these individuals are less prone to blind violence, but are no less dangerous. If their ire is incited, and violence is inevitable... well, it is rare that anyone survives an onslaught from these deadly warriors. But unless insult or injury has been done them, there is little to concern oneself with. Unless of course you have something of value, and the threat is worth the gain. Business is business.

Among the tribe, the Dark Elves of the Desert are perhaps the closest to their origins. They tend to travel by the light of the moon, and rest during the hottest parts of the day, sometimes in their tents, sometimes in caves and they have been doing it long enough that they know where to find places of safety and comfort to rest. They time their travels accordingly, so as to limit the potential of getting stuck in a large expanse of barren desert at the worst time. While they are a darker, more callous people, they are not unnecessarily cruel, and not opposed to sharing their fire, and their feast, with a fellow wanderer, or a poor soul lost in the sands. But any further assistance comes at a cost, and their are many types of coin to the Desert people.

For simple things, this could be as simple as a good story around a kind fire in the dead of night. Or a new dance. A bit of music. At their heart, they are still an elven people, and they are more in tune with their desires than most. It would not be unheard of to come across a tribe's camp, to find a passionate and energetic group of dark elves naked and dancing around their fire, or to watch it devolve into a drug enhanced orgy. They have always been the most hedonistic of the elven peoples, and their path to darkness has not decreased that in any measure.

Tribes are neither matriarchal or patriarchal, but can be either. However, governance of the tribe tends to fall into the hands of males, while the heart of the tribe, the wisdom, the knowledge, the past and the future are held closely by elder women. Still, this is not a hard rule, tradition, or policy, and their are tribes lead by women, and even tribes that consist of nothing but women.

Their bid to curb violence among themselves has been great for the tribes, but it has been harder on other peoples in the deserts, as violence, raiding, pillaging, plundering and the like have turned exclusively to other sources. It's a difficult time to be a traveling merchant or trade caravan in the deserts, if you're not a dark elf.