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Teveriel's Biography/Journal [Open to OOC]


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Teveriel's Biography/Journal [Open to OOC]
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TheLastCandlev
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Teveriel's Biography/Journal [Open to OOC] |
#1
01-18-2013, 08:33 PM
Teveriel was born in Gridania to Celondor, a Wailer, and Celinne of the Oak Atrium. As a child, he was frail and sickly, often requiring the assistance of the conjurers' healing arts. It was whispered that Teveriel's mother had done something to anger the elementals, and that his sickness was some manner of retribution. Celondor was quick to silence such rumors, and they soon faded along with the boy's illness. This childhood malady, although seemingly cured, would leave its mark upon the adult Teveriel, leaving him with a relatively poor constitution and a lingering pallor, as well as a nearly claustrophobic aversion to confinement.

His need to stay indoors also contributed to his becoming quite the bookworm in his early years. Teveriel soon gained an insatiable appetite for books - any books, all books! For the young Elezen, his time spent reading in quiet study was an escape from a dismal reality. This was in stark contrast to his two older brothers, Aelurian and Navarre, who followed in the footsteps of their martially proficient father, but wanderlust and the allure of adventure soon took them both far from Gridania.

Teveriel, for his part, readily took to scholarly pursuits and soon began an apprenticeship at the Fane, gaining a higher understanding of the elements and the healing arts. Eventually he joined A.E.T.H.E.R., an academy devoted to adventuring, as an academician where he conducted research on flora, fauna, and alchemical applications thereof in addition to continuing his studies at the Fane.

Through the academy, he came to know much of the world outside the Shroud, working closely with his fellow scholars until its disbandment. With the threat of war rising, he soon joined the ranks of the Everwatch. Under Oskar Helvig's tutelage he found himself overcoming his physical limitations. At the same time, he also grew increasingly distant from his comrades, often disappearing for days at a time until, finally, he was never seen again - not even by his family - during the Sixth Astral Era.

Select Journal Excerpts from the Sixth Astral Era

pp. 20-21: It has been eight moons since last I wrote in these pages, and as many suns since Oskar welcomed me into the Everwatch. Something of an odd turn for me, others might think, - becoming a mercenary - and they wouldn't be wrong. But what brought me up to this point? Perhaps starting from the beginning will help to gather my thoughts.

When I first left the borders of the Twelveswood, it was to locate my brothers. I found Aelurian in Limsa Lominsa. In the years since he left home, he had found a place for himself there, in the employ of the Maelstrom. Serving in A.E.T.H.E.R., I had a few colleagues hailing from La Noscea, and so I knew the tales the locals told of a land of marauding pirates were mostly exaggerated, although it still took me by surprise.

As for Navarre... His disappearance continues to mystify, accompanied by rumors to which I'll not lend credence by writing them herein.

I recently heard a new voice through the Everwatch's pearl, one Kristiana. She introduced herself as one who advises on matters with the Garleans. I know not what might qualify her for such, as I held my tongue. But perhaps she could be of help locating Navarre.

Whatever the case, as Aelurian puts it, "a storm is brewing," and my studies at the Fane are not enough. I must test myself in combat if I am to help defend my homeland - no matter the cost.

Matron help me.


p. 25: Aether.

Exhilarating, intoxicating - like a lover's caress, coursing through my being as it pulses forth into my hands.

Power.

The more I wield it, the more I find myself craving it; it fills me until I feel ready to burst - and it often does, given the opportunity to use it again. Two suns ago during my studies, what was a gentle manipulation to call forth a breeze to sway the branches became an isolated windstorm, nearly injuring one of my fellow initiates in the process. I take it as a sure sign that my powers of conjury are increasing. But I felt a measure of pride in - indeed, even derived some enjoyment from - using my power in such a manner.

That is what frightens me.


p. 30: My studies at the Fane continue, much as they have been for the past moon. I believe I am gradually coming to terms with the other side of conjury - the subtle manipulation of the elements that have the power to do harm to my enemies as surely as to heal those whom I am charged to protect.

"All things in balance," I remind myself. I must not allow it to rule my thoughts, nor should I think myself the master. The elements and the powers I've learned to use simply "are." Still, there are times when I ask myself what it is that continues to drive me. I know the answer.

I seem to be learning quite a bit about myself of late, in truth. I have the likes of Oskar and Isilme - albeit indirectly - to thank for at least one of these revelations. Mere moons ago, I would have collapsed like a flan in a cupboard after twenty push-ups. I am perhaps not quite the sickly whelp I was before - and that gives me some measure of hope, at least.

p. 41: As I sit in the shadow of the Fane writing this, it almost makes me regret my decision. Yet there is no turning back, not now: this is my duty as a son and as a brother.

Aelurian... I know he would go with me, if I asked. But if the worst should happen, I cannot allow mother and father to suffer the loss of
all of their sons. I hope they all understand.

(After ARR comes out, this thread will be re-purposed into a journal thread for Teveriel, including exactly what has happened during the intervening years, as he was not party to the "time shift" that occurred. Thanks for reading! Let's look forward to A Realm Reborn!)
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RE: Teveriel's Biography/Journal [Open to OOC] |
#2
05-31-2013, 01:57 PM
(This post was last modified: 09-21-2013, 04:30 PM by TheLastCandle.)
Teveriel watched the last remaining drops of water and dissolved sugar trickle through the slots of his spoon and into the milky green liquid in his chalice. He had little patience these days, a trait belied by the slow method of drinking absinthe. 

He lifted the chalice to his lips, savoring the subtle anise flavor of his 
apéritif. Inwardly, the elezen frowned. He is late. Setting aside his drinking vessel, Teveriel laced his gloved fingers beneath his chin and gazed out the open door of the Quicksand. As if on queue, a dark-complexioned Lalafell bounded into the tavern and into the seat across from him.

"Excuse my tardiness, Master Anduin," the Lalafell began. "I ran into-"

"I want your information, Minabo. Not your excuses." Teveriel had a soft voice, as always, but nevertheless had a way of commanding silence when he spoke. He lifted his chalice again by the stem, swirling the liquid around with idle twists of the fingers. "What did you discover?"

Minabo smiled apologetically, mopping at his brow with a small hand. "He was in the battle, all right." He shifted slightly in his seat. "But nobody has seen him since." The Lalafell lowered his head, letting his shaggy hair hide his eyes as he watched for Teveriel's reaction.

None was forthcoming; Teveriel maintained the same expressionless mask he had worn since they escaped their Garlean captors together only a year or so prior in the north. Minabo swallowed a lump in his throat. "So many lost." he murmured.

Teveriel drained the last of his beverage and reached with a single finger to push his spectacles up the bridge of his nose. "Yes," came the single word reply. 



He and Minabo had mourned the deaths of many and more in the Calamity's wake. Yet, however oddly, at the news of Aelurian's death he felt nothing, only a hollow sort of emptiness. He wondered idly if that was what some people meant by "a numbing pain."

Rising, Teveriel straightened his cravat and fished a number of gil from his belt pouch before placing them on the table. "Buy yourself something to eat and drink," he stated flatly. "I'm tired." Without waiting for a reply, the elezen turned and made his way to his room. He knew he would find no rest, but he hoped that his solitude, at least, would be undisturbed.
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