Google Eldar Names. The website also has ton of other name generators for all different kinds of stuff.
Thanks, but luckily I got one Extra bonus she ended up with a fancy surname too. All those years reading Tolkien were not wasted! PM'd you, Velos
Tolkien! Creator ov da ork! Da Brain boy hoo made us wot we ez! Not goblins o trolls, DA WARRIORZ OV EVIL! I'm rereading the hobit now, funny coincidence.
NAME: Kurin Rakarth AGE: 156 Years GENDER: Female TALENT: Combat psyker , Bonesinger , normal singer (entertainment purposes) CLOTHES: Dark, Dark purple (almost black) robe, with golden details depicting the growth of golden spires, the front of the robe showing new, almost barely started spires, with the middle on on the back ends by her neck as a complete and done spite. (Meant to symbolise the growth of their people) No sleeves, on the shoulders is the normally thin cloth hard and point slightly upwards, tiving her a slightly pointy look. No gloves tough her hands are decorated with rings that goes beyond her nails, building up in golden claws. (Not sharp). BODY: Her hair is black, with slings of gold (clearly dyed) always put up in a horsetail. Her eyes are light green in colour (I don't actually know how eldars eyes are). Her head got a very pointy shape. Her lips painted in almost the same colour as her dress. Her body otherwise is very well toned, not focused on training but absolutely not forgotten. Her shape very slender, with a very FAINT hourglass shape. (this is the granddaughter to Urien Rakarth and I am writing this sheet here because I am a lazy fucker and scared that I miss a detail during the RP)
We are set to go, will see that it shall happen over the course of day, but most likely happens tonight because lots busy today.
Start of the RP: It is the 28th millennium. The Eldar Empire is falling into extreme violence and seeks pleasures beyond boundaries. Cities filled with corpses, murders and rape occurring at every corner. Yet small groups are aware of where this path will lead to and try to warn their brothers and sisters. Only few listen in comparison to the magnitude of the Eldar race. Some already fled, others build impossible crafts they call "Craftworlds". But there is one man who spreads the desire of escape to the eastern border of the galaxy, far from the empire, in the unknown. "Let us escape as long as we can. And create ours own utopia! Ones of peace, freedom, kindness and friendship. Not one foe hedonism, death and pleasure! We need to return to our roots not further mutate to killers and rapists! What are we living for? We have everything and yet want more! We lost ourselves in our superiority! Come with me and let us live anew in a place we create together and can enjoy without losing ourselves!" Who would join him? Roughly two hundred Eldar were listening to him while in the distance the screams of death and pleasure echoed to this star port of the crone world Arach-Cyn.
Among those gathered, a tall figure stood with two others. He wore a dark green hooded scarf, it covered most of his face and hair. Redish brown strangs stood out, unkept but not unclean. On his back was a large strapped bag, a number of items tied to it, and a single pole stood out skyward. In his right hand, he held the hand of his eldest. Clutching his leg, his youngest stood nervously. Kaija was in her early second century, one hundred and thirty nine years to be accurate. With violet pink hair, electric blue eyes, and a slender frame. She carried a smaller pack, mostly personal items, a few commodities she'd probably never see again. A rifle, rounds and press for making more, etc. Kaiji absentmindedly played with a small Will dagger. A gift from her mother, requiring concentration to form into an edge. Harmless otherwise, mostly harmless. Ajax was barely out of his trainers, but shared his father's red and brownish hair under a visored hat. His eyes however, were a dark purple. A rare pigment, causing isolation from those his own age. His poncho was green like his father's scarf. He carried very little, just a few things in his pockets and a single sling bag. What stood out on him was the blue gem he wore around his neck, a tear of Isha. All three had one, Kaija's was blue like her little brother Ajax's. Their father's was blood red. Etrigen Anthion, was his name. Former Gladiator, now single father, and future colonist of the Exodus. At least that's what it was being called. Etrigen sought a new life for his family on the frontier, away from the degrading and decadent Empire. The meaningless pursuits of sensation and the reviling in their every desire fulfilled. Such a hollow existance, as if they had no fear of death any more. "We're going away now my children. Are you alright with this? Am I being too selfish?" Kaija responded first, "Of course you're being selfish father. There's nothing known of the frontier, but it's not like anything here is new. This exudes is mearly a fad. Bet it only last a decade." Always the source of inspiration that Kaija. "Ajax?" Ajax didn't speak, but looked his father in the eye and nodded with a determined stare. 'That's my little warrior.' "Don't worry Kaiji, there will be plenty for us to see and do when we get there. Just be sure to keep that rifle clean and keep an opened mind. Remember your teachings, honor the gods, and lets all work together to create a new path for ourselves and the Eldar race."
Kurin was also standing in the crowd. Her very delicate and fine clothing would draw glares to be sure. She is calmly chewing on a leaf of "shaer'ate", a herb found on a planet far out on the edges of the Eldar empire. It served more or less as sort of sweet, giving ure of sour and sweet taste in the mouth. She looks around at the other that has gathered here and notices the trio of the hooded man and his children. She casually makes her way towards them, her shoes just as delicate as the rest of her. Her mind raced with the thought of her former life, she had liked it before, before people had started to kill eachother. She puts up a delicate smile on her dark purple lips and looks up under his hood. "Hello, sir."
DalRan could finally see the place, the place he was searching for during these last hard, few days, he was surprised at the size of the crowd there, apparently there were others who thought like he. He was only so far away from the crowd now, but the road that would take him there had a massive street fight, and there was no way a weakling like him could get through that mess. Instead he did the smart thing, he would have to take the dark alleyway to the right of him and go through the buildings there. He knew there would be at least one group of punks in there, but he could perhaps bribe them with his few belongings. He set out down that alleyway, and he tripped on his foot, and looked up and just as he thought, three criminals his age where sprinting at him, knives drawn. He got up and ran as swiftly as he could, into a building and kept running, the thieves were only so far back. He was soon at the door of the last building, the crowd just so far away now, perhaps someo- he tripped on a dish that had been dislodged. The punks were on him, "Hey you few there", he said pitifully, "Ill let you have all my currency! Just let me go." "Now why would we let you get away you infant? If we killed you we could get all we want off of you." He leaned down and slowly got his knife into a stabbing position. Then DalRan saw his chance, he grabbed the dish he tripped on, broken in two, and stabbed the punk in the neck with the sharp edge. The other two punks ran off. DalRan got up and started walking towards the crowd, he sighed to himself, "finally"..... Then he heard the voice of a brute "YOU! You killed him! And now I'm going to kill you!" Turning around, he saw the Eldar was very masculine. DalRan ran, he ran as hard as his underused legs could carry him. He risked a look back, the brute was almost on to him. DalRan flailed his arms and shouted, "HELP! Anyone! have mercy on me! Save me!"
