<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/3/31/Melarien3.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><strong>Name: </strong>Lady Melarien va’Taeloris. (http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/6/6e/Melarien.jpg)<br/><strong>Shortnames: </strong> <em>Larien, Lari, Tree Dancer.</em><br/><strong>Musical Inspiration:</strong> From Deep in My Heart - Karl Jenkins. (http://grooveshark.com/#!/s/From+Deep+In+My+Heart/4Pinid?src=5)<br/><strong>Race:</strong> Peranos.<br/><strong>Location: </strong> Myeliae - Outside Council Structure.<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong> <em>Briefly Notices Cirven[little reaction] - Reaction to Oilill[NPC]</em>.</span><br/><hr/><hr/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Melarien turned her head as the tall, blonde and armoured elf passed by her on the walkway with ease (Cirven).  The man seemed quite focused and on a mission - thus her only reaction was a serene nod of her head - and a murmured, formal greeting in the Trithos tongue - remarkably without the slightest accent.<br/><br/>It was quick moments before she was addressed by one of the guard, a brown haired man.  While Melarien was a stoic sort unless one knew how to worm under her defenses - it was not her way to disregard a smile and general helpful manners.  She swept a graceful, proper curtsey to the deference of Oillil's rank - one she'd seen often enough passing this way or another.<br/><br/><strong>"It would do well, sir.  My thanks.  It would not do to trouble any that are not free,"</strong> she said in soft, stirring tones, offering the respect the man was due as any guard.<br/><br/><em>They keep more of us from being killed every day.</em>   <br/><br/>Breezes blew gently, tugging at her heavy braid and flicking along the skirts to reveal delicate ankles just as touched by gold as the rest of her.<br/><br/><em>Blessed of moon and sun indeed.</em><br/><br/>She stood aside out of the way and seemed perfectly content to wait until allowed within.<br/><br/>Once permitted inside - it could be noted later that on the edge of a branch - two vials of a scentless, perfect ointment rested near - one for each guard.<br/><br/>While Melarien rarely offered her body - the finest healing supplies that she could make with her own hands were generally given away like scrap cloth.</span>