Ceior the Wise
Lord of the Men of Tirmagall Ceior
The first lord of the men of Tirmagall and great friend of King Sylren An Lonrach. Ceior was known as a wise and gentle man of his people and exemplified the best of humanity with his conduct. He was described as possessing a keen mind, kind eyes and was the pillar of strength and leadership for his people during his time.
Physical Description
Special abilities
Healing magic
Fertility magic
Invisibility magic
Fertility magic
Invisibility magic
Specialized Equipment
Ceior carried with him a walking stick with a jade gem atop it. Ceior's staff healed the sick and called roaring waves and was taken from a long dead root of a bog tree in the Old North, it was passed down his line.
Mental characteristics
Personal history
From the old world to a new one, the eyes of Ceior saw many changes. Amidst the fogs and mists of the Adwine did Ceior come from the kin of the men who discovered and followed the western strangers back to their abode at the end of the sea. There, men settled, and there did men learn many things from the western strangers whom they called the Folk. For in these days, the day came and sang a music of pleasance and beauty. Ceior tended the gathered harvests, leading men out each day when the weather permitted such things.
In his younger days, Ceior learned the bog magics of men, he learned to listen with more than ear at the plight of the world's animals and he came to understand them and listen to their songs. He bound the wounds of animals, they came to him in droves and he nursed them, watched them grow, and sent them back where they belonged, free amidst the wild world. He did so with his fellow men, for Ceior learned to tend wound, alleviate sickness, and cure disease. Ceior was called to summon rain, he did not shout atop a mountain and demand, no, he sat in the fields quiet on each night rain was needed and each morning rain came. So to was Ceior a storyteller to the young boys and girls in Tirmagall, told them tales that frightened them but lit a fire of inspiration and creativity among them. He told them tales too of courage, of bravery, and of good men and good women from whom they all came. The mother in the reed, setting her daughter away to safety, the father rising to defend his family and the warmth of kin and kindness.
The manner of him was thus that he came to be regarded as the leader of men, as such things were decided by merits, and Ceior had many. He was a simple man, yet in simplicity, he truly enjoyed life as not many men before or since had. He sang all manner of song around lit fires in the night, many songs of joy and laughter came when Ceior did pluck the instruments of men. Ceior's role led to his meeting with the Faen Elder King, Sylren An Lonrach and who did first intimidate the simple man.
Yet Ceior did not find the distant, foreboding, and intimidating ruler of the Fae he had expected, for Sylren was a lover of song, of living, and of all things Ceior strove to better himself in. The two, each a ruler of their people, came to find comfort in friendship. Yet not in the burden of leadership was their bond forged, it was in love of family, the love of the world around them, the appreciation of life, through all calamity, heartbreak, triumph, and renewal. For they loved, each of them, the blissfulness of life, and the forgetfulness of joy. Many days, they abandoned the duties of rule and went into great groves to pick groups of berries and fruit for the night and the next day. Some days spent atop an unstable boat, with naught but ring and lure as bounties of fish rose to grasp at the dangling lures. Some days nothing was caught, and yet these days were not a waste, for each were in the others company. In song, the Elder King's voice was ever complimented by the strung fingers of Ceior. Their love was tender, and it was the truest yet found between men and fae.
Yet while Sylren remained ever youthful, Ceior did not, as mortal men did not yet have the life gifted to them by Fae blood nor the blessing of the gods above. It would be in the night, that the two old friends confided in one another, on the first snowfall of the year. Ceior was weary, short of breath and he groaned often, he bid his friend prosperity, a long life, and a good death, bountiful, joyful kin, and happiness to comfort him in times of peril and trouble. Yet their conversation did not end with sadness, the two shared a laugh and many drinks toasted in the honor of their days amidst shining sun and glittering waves. Sylren helped his dear friend rise from bed and the two hugged tightly, atop two feet.
The king retired for the night and the two friends bid each other a fond farewell as the world rested. Ceior went away in the night, breath left him and come the morning, he did not rise with the sun as he had in younger days. When the king rose, the first thought upon his mind was his brother and his wellbeing. Yet as the king strode to Ceior's home, he found his friend's kin all around, and he knew immediately what had happened. And so then, the proud shining Elder King of the fae learned death's grasp on the world and he cried out for but a moment before the silence of grief came over him.
For all his days, despite all joys and achievements, the soul of An Lonrach remembered forever the sting of loss, the biting and knawing grief of a friend lost too soon. The king tended to the rites of men, he alone dug a pit that swallowed up Ceior, beside a good tree with fruit not yet blossomed. A quiet place overlooking the crashing waves at the cliffs that oversaw the sea. Sylren sent his beloved friend into his eternal residence beside his gods.
On the day Ceior went away, every year after, the Elder King would go to this fruit tree and sit beside the marker where Ceior lay, playing songs, regaling stories of the times, and sitting still as he drank a toast to his old friend, wherever he roamed. With the generosity of fate, it would be the family of Ceior the Wise, from where the great house of men would find its strength. From Ceior's son Echaniel, the brothers Adrenwulf and Gamelin would come and lead men in the first battle. From the brothers, would come many who would lead the race of men and from them, the world of men came to be bigger and grander than an old man fishing with his friend.
The House of Ceior became the House of Men, where glories and triumphs, tragedy and loss sprang. Yet never did the spirit of Ceior the Wise die, for from Ceior, the gentleness, and love of men grew to bring light to the world. The House of Men began here, in the simplicity of love, in dull days, and in duty fulfilled. In all the days that came and went, the small tree of fruit where Ceior lay remained untouched, its glimpse at the sea undisturbed as it seemed all of creation agreed in a soft remembrance, a good man lay here.
In his younger days, Ceior learned the bog magics of men, he learned to listen with more than ear at the plight of the world's animals and he came to understand them and listen to their songs. He bound the wounds of animals, they came to him in droves and he nursed them, watched them grow, and sent them back where they belonged, free amidst the wild world. He did so with his fellow men, for Ceior learned to tend wound, alleviate sickness, and cure disease. Ceior was called to summon rain, he did not shout atop a mountain and demand, no, he sat in the fields quiet on each night rain was needed and each morning rain came. So to was Ceior a storyteller to the young boys and girls in Tirmagall, told them tales that frightened them but lit a fire of inspiration and creativity among them. He told them tales too of courage, of bravery, and of good men and good women from whom they all came. The mother in the reed, setting her daughter away to safety, the father rising to defend his family and the warmth of kin and kindness.
The manner of him was thus that he came to be regarded as the leader of men, as such things were decided by merits, and Ceior had many. He was a simple man, yet in simplicity, he truly enjoyed life as not many men before or since had. He sang all manner of song around lit fires in the night, many songs of joy and laughter came when Ceior did pluck the instruments of men. Ceior's role led to his meeting with the Faen Elder King, Sylren An Lonrach and who did first intimidate the simple man.
Yet Ceior did not find the distant, foreboding, and intimidating ruler of the Fae he had expected, for Sylren was a lover of song, of living, and of all things Ceior strove to better himself in. The two, each a ruler of their people, came to find comfort in friendship. Yet not in the burden of leadership was their bond forged, it was in love of family, the love of the world around them, the appreciation of life, through all calamity, heartbreak, triumph, and renewal. For they loved, each of them, the blissfulness of life, and the forgetfulness of joy. Many days, they abandoned the duties of rule and went into great groves to pick groups of berries and fruit for the night and the next day. Some days spent atop an unstable boat, with naught but ring and lure as bounties of fish rose to grasp at the dangling lures. Some days nothing was caught, and yet these days were not a waste, for each were in the others company. In song, the Elder King's voice was ever complimented by the strung fingers of Ceior. Their love was tender, and it was the truest yet found between men and fae.
Yet while Sylren remained ever youthful, Ceior did not, as mortal men did not yet have the life gifted to them by Fae blood nor the blessing of the gods above. It would be in the night, that the two old friends confided in one another, on the first snowfall of the year. Ceior was weary, short of breath and he groaned often, he bid his friend prosperity, a long life, and a good death, bountiful, joyful kin, and happiness to comfort him in times of peril and trouble. Yet their conversation did not end with sadness, the two shared a laugh and many drinks toasted in the honor of their days amidst shining sun and glittering waves. Sylren helped his dear friend rise from bed and the two hugged tightly, atop two feet.
The king retired for the night and the two friends bid each other a fond farewell as the world rested. Ceior went away in the night, breath left him and come the morning, he did not rise with the sun as he had in younger days. When the king rose, the first thought upon his mind was his brother and his wellbeing. Yet as the king strode to Ceior's home, he found his friend's kin all around, and he knew immediately what had happened. And so then, the proud shining Elder King of the fae learned death's grasp on the world and he cried out for but a moment before the silence of grief came over him.
For all his days, despite all joys and achievements, the soul of An Lonrach remembered forever the sting of loss, the biting and knawing grief of a friend lost too soon. The king tended to the rites of men, he alone dug a pit that swallowed up Ceior, beside a good tree with fruit not yet blossomed. A quiet place overlooking the crashing waves at the cliffs that oversaw the sea. Sylren sent his beloved friend into his eternal residence beside his gods.
On the day Ceior went away, every year after, the Elder King would go to this fruit tree and sit beside the marker where Ceior lay, playing songs, regaling stories of the times, and sitting still as he drank a toast to his old friend, wherever he roamed. With the generosity of fate, it would be the family of Ceior the Wise, from where the great house of men would find its strength. From Ceior's son Echaniel, the brothers Adrenwulf and Gamelin would come and lead men in the first battle. From the brothers, would come many who would lead the race of men and from them, the world of men came to be bigger and grander than an old man fishing with his friend.
The House of Ceior became the House of Men, where glories and triumphs, tragedy and loss sprang. Yet never did the spirit of Ceior the Wise die, for from Ceior, the gentleness, and love of men grew to bring light to the world. The House of Men began here, in the simplicity of love, in dull days, and in duty fulfilled. In all the days that came and went, the small tree of fruit where Ceior lay remained untouched, its glimpse at the sea undisturbed as it seemed all of creation agreed in a soft remembrance, a good man lay here.
Employment
Lord and Seer of the men of Tirmagall
Personality Characteristics
Virtues & Personality perks
Gentle
Loving
Kind
Attentive
Diligent
Honorable
Wise
Loving
Kind
Attentive
Diligent
Honorable
Wise
Social
Family Ties
Father of Echaniel
Grandfather of Adrenwulf and Gamelin
Great Ancestor of the House of Ceior
Grandfather of Adrenwulf and Gamelin
Great Ancestor of the House of Ceior
Social Aptitude
Ceior was gentle and kind, known for his dry and amusing sense of humor. He had a deep respect and reverence for nature and animals, a sense he passed on to his son Echaniel. A sage and wise mentor, leader and cultural father to his people, Ceior was fiercely protective of them and if threatened, would become a fierce and intimidating adversary.
Ethnicity
Life
9912 B.E
9826 B.E
86 years old
Circumstances of Birth
Born in Orh Oledhed, the Old North
Circumstances of Death
Died in his sleep
Birthplace
Orh Oledhed, Modern Kantyra
Place of Death
Tirmagall
Family
Children
Quotes & Catchphrases
"I cannot promise to be the sun, shining and brightening every day, but I will be like moonlight above, guiding you in dark times.
Aligned Organization
(Ceior's best friend, the Elder King Sylren An Lonrach)
(Ceior's grandson Ardenwulf, leader of men during the First Battle)
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