Red Flows the Sirannon Planning/Discussion Thread

[piosenniel]

*** FIRST POST FOR THE IN-PLAY RPG DISCUSSION THREAD IS POST #194 ***

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This planning thread is for finalizing an RPG proposal owned by Durelin.

At the present, only these people will post to this thread:

Durelin - game owner
Pio - moderator
Child of the 7th Age - moderator


Alcarillo
Amanaduial the archer
Arestevana
Arry
Boromir88
Captainof Despair
Encaitare
Envinyatar
Esgallhugwen
Firefoot
Folwren
Garen Lilorian
Gwydion
Kath
Mithalwen
Nurumaiel
Orofaniel
Seth Cotton
Sleepy Ranger

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I'll add names as interested players have checked in with Durelin or with me.

All other comments will be deleted.

~*~ Pio, Shire Mod

[piosenniel]

Working Titles for Game (and those who expressed a preference):

Farewell to the Elvensmiths - Aman
Siege of Eregion
Sack of Ost-in-Edhil
Doom of the Mírdain - Enca; Aman
Red Flows the Sirannon - Pio


Open for suggestions, preferences.

[piosenniel]

Story Background:

1.) History

When the Blue Mountains broke apart and the Dwarf-city of Nogrod collapsed, Dwarves escaped to lesser dwellings, and eventually many went east to Moria, and arrived there around SA 40.

Early in the Second Age, most of the Noldor and many of the Sindar went West, establishing the new city of Avallónë on Tol Eressëa. Many of the Sindar that remained in Middle-earth went east and joined the Silvan Elves in their scattered woodland dwellings.

The Noldor moved to the land west of the Ered Luin, which had once been known as Lindon. After the Gulf of Lhûn was formed, the two portions of Lindon were named Forlindon (North Lindon), in which Gil-galad ruled; and Harlindon (South Lindon), in which Círdan ruled.

Celebrimbor moved from Lindon east into Eriador with many Noldor, reaching Eregion (Hollin), and founding Ost-in-Edhil. Close friendship grew between the Dwarves in Moria and the Noldor of Eregion until the War of the Elves and Sauron.

When Sauron established his dwelling in Mordor because of his fear of the growing power of the Númenóreans and their increasing presence in Middle-earth, he began to seek after the elves. He was refused entrance by Gil-galad into Lindon, but was received by the Elven-smiths at Eregion, where the rings of power were begun around SA 1500. Celebrimbor created the three greatest rings (Narya, Nenya, and Vilya) alone, finishing them in SA 1590. Around SA 1600, Sauron forged the Master Ring, but his deceptions were revealed and the War of the Elves and Sauron began.

Sauron invaded Eriador and attacked Eregion in SA 1695, and though Elrond was sent to aid the elves in Ost-in-Edhil, Eregion was destroyed, with Celebrimbor killed, before he reached it in 1697. The Dwarves of Khazad-dûm and the Silvan Elves of Lórinand (Lorien) aided Elrond’s forces in fending off Sauron’s forces, but they were forced to retreat, and the gates of Moria were shut.

Elrond went north, escaping with the remaining Noldor, and built Imladris. But by SA 1699, Sauron had overrun Eriador, and Rivendell (Imladris) was besieged, Sauron declaring himself “Lord of the Earth”. Númenor came to the aid of Middle-earth, a huge fleet sent by Tar-Minastir joined forces with the elves at Lindon to drive Sauron out of Eriador.

Concerning Moria: When Morgoth was thrust through the Door of Night, his few creatures that survived his destruction scattered. Among these was the only Balrog mentioned in later times: the one who escaped to Moria, and was discovered there by the dwarves in the Third Age.

2.) Geography

Eregion was located between the Glanduin and Bruinen Rivers in Southeastern Eriador to the west of the Misty Mountains near the West gate of Moria. Many holly trees grew there, its name meaning “holly-region” in Sindar. Imladris is located north and slightly east of Eregion, in a hidden valley just outside the north east corner of the Angle (the land between the Mitheithel and the Bruinen) amidst estuaries of the River Bruinen, also known as the Loudwater.

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MAP of game area (http://www.yesalbum.com/v001/Durelin/map2.jpg)

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[piosenniel]

Important Dates

Foundation of Eregion: SA 750
Three Rings completed in Eregion: c. SA 1590
Sauron forges One Ring: c. SA 1600
War of the Elves and Sauron begins and the Three Rings are hidden: SA 1693
Eriador is invaded and Elrond is sent to Eregion: 1695 SA
Eregion is destroyed and Celebrimbor is killed, Imladris is founded: SA 1697
Sauron overruns Eriador: SA 1699
Tar-Minastir sends a great navy from Numenor to Lindon, Sauron is defeated: SA 1700
Sauron is driven out of Eriador: SA 1701

[piosenniel]

Basic Storyline:

Sauron has invaded Eriador, and laid siege to the city of Ost-in-Edhil, the greatest city of Eregion. The Noldor who dwelt there in friendship with the Dwarves of Khazad-dûm were forced to garrison in Ost-in-Edhil and endure the assailment with help from the Dwarves, knowing they would not be able to hold out against the forces of Sauron. Gil-galad sent Elrond with aid from Lindon, but it is a long time before they reach Eregion. The Elves of Eregion are waiting for some kind of relief from Elrond and his forces, though only so that some of their people may escape.

[piosenniel]

The purpose of the story is to: Withstand Sauron’s siege upon Ost-in-Edhil until Elrond’s forces arrive.

This means we will know the story is over when: Elrond’s forces arrive and the surviving Noldor may retreat north.

Starting Location: Ost-in-Edhil
Likely Destination: Outside Ost-in-Edhil, escaping

[piosenniel]

Timeframes:

This game takes place in the Second Age around the year 1697.

The storyline itself or plot covers 2 weeks.

PLEASE NOTE:

This game requires a time commitment of 2 1/2 months from me, the game owner, and from the major players.

Depending upon ongoing interest in plot development, the game may extend beyond the 2 1/2 months, so that the storyline can reach a suitable conclusion, agreeable to the Owner and the other gamers.

[piosenniel]

PLAYER/CHARACTER LIST


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SEE PAGE 4 FOR ONGOING LIST OF GAMERS AND CHARACTERS

[piosenniel]

Reminder for those wanting to play one of the Elven roles:

~*~

About Elves in Shire RPG's:

Please use this description from Tolkien when crafting an Elf:

Return of the King – Appendix F: Tolkien’s description for the Quendi (The Speakers) – the name given to the Elves by themselves after they first awoke in Middle-earth.

“They were a race high and beautiful, the older Children of the world, and among them the Eldar were as Kings, who now are gone: the People of the Great Journey, the People of the Stars. They were tall, fair of skin and grey-eyed, though their locks were dark, save in the golden house of Finrod; and their voices had more melodies than any mortal voice that is now heard . . .”

Please use this as a guideline for describing your Elven character’s appearance.

[piosenniel]

Character Description Form:

1.) Have you ever played in an RPG at the Barrow Downs? – YES/NO - Which one?

2.) How many RPG’s on the Barrow Downs are you currently involved in?

List them, please:

Please note you may play in only 2 (TWO) Shire games at one time. Exceptions to this may be made for this on a case by case basis by the Shire Moderators. (The Green Dragon Inn DOES NOT count as a game for this.)


3.) Have you posted in The Green Dragon Inn – YES/NO - you must have posted in the Green Dragon Inn or played in an RPG at the Barrow Downs in order to play in this game.
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For your character please include:

NAME:

AGE:

RACE:

GENDER:

WEAPONS (No magical, super-hero, mithril weapons. Just good solid Middle-earth weapons and armor only that is appropriate to the race of the character and the time period.):

APPEARANCE:

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: (No half-Elven characters. No mixed-type characters. No super-heroes. No assassins. No one all powerful, martial arts proficient, or having any magical traits. Just regular characters with normal abilities for their races only):

HISTORY:

[Durelin]

Thank you so much, Pio, for making this all possible! :)

Okay, a few points to begin...

-Elves of Lorien would also be present in this story, so they need to be added to the 'Characters Needed' list

-All characters should be male, considering the situation, unless there is an applicable reason for a character to be female

-Anyone who is at all interested in being a part of this RPG, as a primary or secondary character, or even simply in a cameo role, please PM me or Pio so you may be added to the list of those allowed to post on this thread. Also, if you simply have suggestions for the RP, please PM me about them, and I can add you to the list as well.

So far, I'd like to add Encaitare, Amanduial the Archer, and CaptainofDespair as members with interest. :)

[piosenniel]

*rubs hands together in anticipation

OK!

I've added the names of prospective players to the list of those who can post to this thread.

I've added the Elves of Lórien contingent.

Also made note that one of the Elves of Eregion can be female - but not play a warrior role. Self defense is of course acceptable.

Put in a CAMEOS section. People who want to think up a role can PM Durelin and clear it with her. (We may want to hold knowledge of the particulars of these characters from the rest of the gamers - element of surprise, and all that . . . :eek: )

~*~ Pio

[piosenniel]

I've added Garen Lilorian as a potential Dwarf character (all depends on his ability to access the internet in the near future.

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Also - I've added another title for consideration:

"Red Flows the Sirannon" - ;) :p

~*~ Pio

[Encaitare]

I rather like the sound of "Doom of the Mírdain" for a title, although it's Durelin's call, really. As I mentioned to Durelin via PM, I will probably not have internet access from June 25 to July 10. But since things still have to get organized and it's a 2 1/2 month game, hopefully I'll be able to fall in as soon as I return without having missed too much.

_______________________________________

Character Description Form:

1.) Have you ever played in an RPG at the Barrow Downs? – Yes, Sailing Away.

2.) How many RPGs on the Barrow Downs are you currently involved in? Zero.

3.) Have you posted in The Green Dragon Inn – aye

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Encaitare's character

NAME: Glûtkask, title of Boldog

AGE: doesn't really apply to Maiar, does it?

RACE: Boldog -- a corrupted, lesser Maia in an orkish hröa. For info regarding this concept, check it out here (http://www.absoluteastronomy.com/encyclopedia/B/Bo/Boldog.htm) or in HerenIstarion's excellent essay here (http://www.barrowdowns.com/articles_orcs.php). I think this race would be quite befitting of an orc captain, even though it's not an idea contained within the Sil.

GENDER: male

WEAPONS: He wears armor of metal and leather that is in slightly better condition than that of the average orc. He carries a single-edged sword which is accompanied by an axe. On his head is a crude, spiked helm.

APPEARANCE: quite large and powerfully built. Also remarkably ugly, as orcs tend to be. He's been around for a while, so he has several noticable battle scars. Mottled skin and narrowed yellow eyes.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Think of the average orc. Actually, think of a really, above-averagely nasty orc. Got a good picture in your mind? Okay, now think of an orc worse than that. That'll be Glûtkask, roughly speaking -- ruthless, foul, and always looking out for Number One above anyone else. Among his strengths are his ability to hack off the heads and stab the guts of the Free Peoples. Although it's Sauron who is the master of their battle strategies, Glûtkask didn't get to be a captain by being stupid -- he can usually get himself and/or his garrison out of a pinch.

HISTORY: As a Maia, Glûtkask was corrupted some time in the First Age. He served Morgoth, assuming his orkish form at this time, though he went by a different name. He fled after his master's downfall, laying low until Sauron began to gain power. In accordance with Sauron's efforts to promote the Black Speech, Glûtkask took the name he now bears. Because of his history of being a faithful servant (and his excellent references, as it were :D) he's garnered a fair amount of trust from Sauron. Glûtkask is not particularly interested in gaining personal power; he is relatively satisfied with his position.

+ carry-along orcs in the garrison

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Note -- I'll probably include some carry-along sorts of characters, just minor orcs in the garrison to provide more dialogue and create a larger sense of things, if that's alright.

[piosenniel]

Good character, Encaitare!

Here's one artist's rendition of Boldog:

King Thingol fights with Boldog (http://www.elvish.org/gwaith/tom_loback.htm)

[Amanaduial the archer]

Just really checking in to prove my existence...

Title-wise, I quite like either Farewell to the Elvensmiths, or Doom of the Mírdain - or, hey, maybe a mix of the two of them. Running on other ideas I've been musing on, I have sent an email to Durelin, so no doubt the sifted version may appear in my inbox or on this thread at some point, as I don't suppose Durelin would appreciate my posting it twice... :) And would it be alright if I grabbed the role of one of the elves of Eregion? I shall have a bio up as soon as I can...

[Esgallhugwen]

Hello, I'm going to love being a part of this RP. I too would like to grab one of the Elves of Eregion roles if I may. But alas, not much time is given to me today, I have work then after I'm going with my boyfriend to his friends place to play Dungeons and Dragons, *sigh* I'm such a nerd.

But fear not I will complete a bio while I'm over there and type it up the next day.

[piosenniel]

Durelin

I've put down Aman and Esgallhugwen into 2 of the Eregion Elves parts.

~*~ Pio

[Gwydion]

Wow :eek: this is cool! Here goes:

Character Description Form:

1.) Have you ever played in an RPG at the Barrow Downs? – NO

2.) How many RPG’s on the Barrow Downs are you currently involved in? 0

List them, please:

Please note you may play in only 2 (TWO) Shire games at one time. Exceptions to this may be made for this on a case by case basis by the Shire Moderators. (The Green Dragon Inn DOES NOT count as a game for this.)


3.) Have you posted in The Green Dragon Inn – YES

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Gwydion's character

NAME: Alethian Eriam

AGE:3522

RACE:Elf

GENDER:Male

WEAPONS:Second Age elven-sword,dagger of the Noldor, Bow of the Galadrim, and quiver of arrows.

APPEARANCE: 5'10", dark hair, bright grey eyes, fair-skinned, lean, compact runner-like body. Uses all senses to the utmost possibility.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Far-sighted, strong, wise, small amount of arrogance.

HISTORY: Alethian has lived most of his life in Lorien and has mainly lived his life defending Lorien from the forces of evil. Tries to help all the elves and bolster all defenses, was once an aid to the Lady Galadriel, a great honor indeed and was sent to help Elrond of Imladris in the battle.

[piosenniel]

Durelin

*images from 'Field of Dreams' drift by . . . 'If you build it, they will come . . .'

I've added Kath (Orc); Firefoot (Orc); and Gwydion (Lorien Elf) to the posters list.

~*~ Pio

[Durelin]

We're really making this happen, aren't we? *does a little dance*

Kath and Firefoot - So glad to have you aboard!

Gwydion - Welcome! Please check your PMs.

Esgallhugwen - I'm so glad you're interested in playing! And don't rush too much on your bio...I'm not doing any better than you when it comes to bios and such...in fact, most likely I'm doing worse. ;)

Encaitare - Oooh, yes, wonderful character! Thanks so much for stopping by!

Pio - "Red Flows the Sirannon"...I like it... You almost gave into the temptation, didn't you? ;)

As a note, CaptainofDespair will be playing a cameo role as a big baddie, that will for now be known as 'Sauron's Champion'...lame title, but it's practical. :p

Aman - Finally responded to your lovely email, and, in so doing, I came up with a lot more ideas.

Speaking of these ideas...I will be editing this post ASAP, to add as many of them as I can as clearly as I can.

-Durelin

[piosenniel]

Yes, I almost put up "Blood on the Waters" as a possible title, but then managed to rein myself in. :p

~*~ Pio

[Firefoot]

Hey all, I'm really excited about this game. I'm looking forward to playing with all of you.

It's interesting, actually. I've been thinking lately that an Orc might be fun to play, and this game comes along. :D So especial greetings to Encai and Kath, my fellow Orcs. :D

I'll be working on my bio here soon, as soon as I can come up with a good Orc name (it's always the names. I never get better at coming up with those).

[Durelin]

I decided to make this a separate post, as these thoughts became relatively lengthy very quickly... And this ain't the half of it! ;)

Here are some points I came up with:

Concerning the basic outline of the game:
If the siege on Ost-in-Edhil began late in 1696, then early in 1697 it would be destroyed after just a couple weeks, and then Elrond's forces would arrive. But, events prior to the actual siege, and prior to Sauron's invasion of Eriador are very important. Aman brought to my attention the importance of the actual forging of the Rings to the storyline/plot of the game. If we begin the game with the actual forging of the Rings and then skip to the actual attack on Eregion, I think many more opportunities will be open, and the story this game will tell will be more effective.

This might be a little tricky, but I think rather than spending some time with the events that led up to Sauron's invasion into Eriador will make the events concerning the actual siege easier to understand, and thus easier to RP. The background of an event such as the battle at Eregion (and the escape to Imladris) is really what makes the event, and thus it is important to explore that as well.

Starting with the forging of the Rings, most likely through a first post describing the actual forging and setting the stage (with the elves of Eregion, in particular), would be an excellent starting point, I think. It would let everyone get a basis for just what kind of power is being created in the world...and then shortly thereafter, a great power of evil is created. And of course that would give us time to do some lovely character interaction between the Elves of Eregion and the Dwarves of Moria...as friendliness between Dwarves and Elves, I believe, is an interesting concept.

As to how the siege itself will unfold, particularly in the arrival of Elrond and the *escape* of the survivors, there's a lot yet to work out, and I've come up with several options. I'll try to describe those options in detail in my next post.

Concerning Celebrimbor (and Elrond...and a few other things):

Celebrimbor is going to be a very important character in the plot of the RPG. I've been going from the point of view that Sauron's attack on Eregion is a form of punishment - he wishes to punish the Elves for *deceiving* him, particularly Celebrimbor, as he hides the Three Rings, the greatest of the Rings of Power, from Sauron after discovering Sauron's deception. Sauron has just created the Master Ring, and that will also be an important part of the story, as Sauron is a new power in this scenario...and at this point, he's winning! This is another reason why the forging of the rings is such an important event. It gives Celebrimbor's character relevance (again, as Aman pointed out), rather than him simply starting out in the RPG as simply some elf who, basically, made Sauron angry.

Now, for the options...Characters such as Celebrimbor and Elrond, historical characters who are important in this RPG, could be what I like to call 'universal carry-alongs'. Basically, they are NPCs. And, they will be available (as established characters in Tolkien's histories of Middle-earth) basically, to be *RPed* by everyone. Gamers' characters will interact with Celebrimbor and Elrond, and they can be like carry along characters that everyone may *use*.

The other option of course, is for Celebrimbor and Elrond to be characters that two gamers play, either has primary or secondary characters. This might be a little intrusive on Tolkien's writings, as these two characters are so historically important in Middle-earth. But, if done correctly, this might be a good way to go.

Concerning the first post of the game:

The first post of the game will have to be a big stage setter. It is possible that the entire stage could be set: the forging of the Rings and all events prior to the siege of Eregion could be covered in the first post (and then we’d just plunge into the siege). I'd prefer it if the first post simply covered the forging of the Rings, and set only a basic platform rather than an entire stage. The first post could tell of Eregion, of how Sauron came to the Elves, and then of Celebrimbor and the forging of the Rings. What would follow would be an opportunity for gamers to set their own stages, so to speak. Each gamer would establish who their character is, and collectively get to establish what it is like to have the new power of the Rings in their world, what this means for each of their characters and for each of their characters' people, etc.

All of this talk makes me realize one very important thing…this game, if many of the things I discussed become realities in this, most likely is going to take more time than I originally predicted, and thus more commitment. I don’t want to ask that of people unless they really want to commit so much of their time, as that is unfair, but I present all of my ideas to you as options.

Hopefully my next post will be clearer, more direct…and just more productive.

~To be continued~

-Durelin

P.S. - Right now, my plan for the bad guys is the most clear! You go, orcses.../Maiar :p

EDIT: Oh, and Pio...

1.) CaptainofDespair - Sauron's Champion; big baddie

Hehe...I love when people take me seriously. :p

[piosenniel]

If you are interested in the game, please PM me & let me know what character type you'd like to play.

I'll add your name to the list of posters for the thread, then.

Thanks!

~*~ Pio, Game Moderator

[Encaitare]

Hi, Firefoot, nice to be RPing with you again. And I look forward to a fun game with you all!

Durelin, that sounds like a cool way to start off the game!

[piosenniel]

Durelin

Arestevana will be PM'ing you to get some ideas about being a CAMEO.

I've put her on the list to post to this thread.

~*~ Pio

[CaptainofDespair]

It has been many moons since I have wandered the Downs. Like a shadow in the mist I come and go, vanishing, yet always there. Perhaps this will rein in this particular shadow, and give him a new body with which to walk amongst men...

Perhaps...

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*snickers*

I slay myself. I'm too amusing for my own good. I'm sure "Durelin" can testify to that. :D

Anywho, this RP seems very nice, and I'm sure "Durelin" will do a wonderful job. She is such a creative, brilliant...umm...I'll stop before I rant. ;)

I see my cameo role was accepted. Pio, do I need to submit a Character Description form? And if so, should I place it here, in a PM, or...?

[piosenniel]

CoD

hmmmm . . . why don't you send it in a PM to me. Keep the element of surprise intact.

:cool:

~*~ Pio

[Durelin]

Wonderful, wonderful wonderful... I'll be PMing Arestevana, as well as others, shortly...

CaptainofDespair - Yes, please remain as mysterious as possible for now. And really I'm just talking about in relation to your role in the game. Otherwise, you can just lay off the shadow and the mist... :p

Oh, about this...

As to how the siege itself will unfold, particularly in the arrival of Elrond and the *escape* of the survivors, there's a lot yet to work out, and I've come up with several options. I'll try to describe those options in detail in my next post.

Well, I'm afraid I lied. Information concerning the details of how the siege will end and such will be withheld until further notice. In other words, until we get there in the game. I may be in contact with some gamers concerning this, but they will be asked to keep things confidential and all that. ;)

Pio - Will it be possible to try and negotiate with you and Child concerning how long this RPG will take, both in game time and *real life* time? :D

[piosenniel]

Pio - Will it be possible to try and negotiate with you and Child concerning how long this RPG will take, both in game time and *real life* time? :D

Check your PM's, please (in a moment).

~*~ Pio

[Amanaduial the archer]

All of this talk makes me realize one very important thing…this game, if many of the things I discussed become realities in this, most likely is going to take more time than I originally predicted, and thus more commitment. I don’t want to ask that of people unless they really want to commit so much of their time Nonsense. As much time as you like from this corner, darlin', so long as you can put up with me.

Ok, I had plans basically to carry on what you started from the PM/email discussion Durelin and I had, as I'd like to enhance a few ideas, add a few new ones and just lay them all out, as a chance for everyone to see and comment, but not sure how far I'm gonna get on this because it's kinda late and I have church tomorrow. But then, never having been one to shy away from a bad idea...

I agree, Durelin - it's probably better that Elrond and Celebrimbor are NPCs - too much historical weightiness, major Tolkien characters, etc etc etc. However, they are important characters, and so the possibility is opened up that, instead of directly playing the characters themselves, players could take the roles of fictional characters close to the characters - friends, advisors etc - so several different players get the chance to carry-along and, to an extent, 'play' Celebrimbor and Elrond - for example, as Durelin said, a few of the elves could be part of Celebrimbor's. It means he becomes an active part of the game, and therefore his importance is emphasised.

Also along the lines of emphasising Celebrimbor's importance and the importance of the Elven ringsespecially - bearing in mind the whole game is based on him, this is probably going to be a rather important device in the game (I'm sorry if that's the wrong word for it, I'm rather tired, not that that's an excuse particularly). So onto how to do this: the idea of 'setting the scene' so to speak that Durelin mentioned is one that I like. An idea would be to have an introduction style passage about the forging of the rings, and then skip to the buildup to the invasion of Eregion, beginning (?) with the hiding of the rings - you know, go for the whole darkness and mystery as a start, it could be a rather intriguing start. And then build up to the invasion and then so on. It would just get us off to a rather flying start and make the RPG altogether a bit different. Thoughts? (And Durelin, I love the way you phrased that - "rather than him simply starting out in the RPG as simply some elf who, basically, made Sauron angry." ;))

However, I would say that we should probably get to the seige fairly sharpish after the initial, I don't know, call it the 'introductory period' of the ring-forging and the character responses to it (like that idea very much btw, Durelin) - the seige is really going to be the main beef of the game, it would seem, so the two options would be to have it as a real climax or to have it as the main bulk of the whole game - so that depends really on how long we spend on how long is spent on the introductory period. I would favour having a relatively short introductory period, so that the action is fairly quickly reached. But it does really allow us to be more exploratory plot-wise, and so I think it would be very important - so hey, extending it is no bad thing. What do you think?

However...during the seige period, the seige will probably not be the only thing going on - how about two or maybe more stories going on at once? Elrond's elves and the elves of Eriador could both be played seperately but at once. This idea of having two or more lines going on at once in one RPG has possible advantages and, of course, possible risks, but on the positive side, it means that when Elrond's elves finally do arrive at Eriador, it reaches a real climax in the game because all the characters suddenly come together - this could work very well. Having two games means having more characters, of course, and this could affect the length of the game again, which may be a problem for some people...

Another pointer on characters which I kinda ran past Durelin - the idea of having other 'perspectives' i.e. other than soldiers. This is a city: so maybe we could have other roles being played, such as a female elf/elves and/or a younger/non-fighting character. It just opens up to give more variety to the game by introducing someone who is not directly fighting but who is, of course, directly affected by it.

Um. Yes. Anyway. I feel my sense-making...thing...brain! Yes, that's it! I feel that my brain is having issues processing in any sensible fashion any more with such lo-ong paragraphs, so I shall sign off. All feedback on aforementioned ideas is...good...:)

Oh, and Durelin - about telling me to stop apologising...it's a RL habit that kinda seeps into the Internet as well. It's kinda an inferiority complex, mainly borne of being inferior. Which is, you know, fun. *shrugs*;)

[Durelin]

Aman - You just summed up so many things I was trying to say in a much clearer and more concise way...I owe you. ;)

And yes, dwelling too long on all the setting up, as much wonder and mystery as there will be to have fun with, would be a mistake. I'd love to take at least some time, though, while still keeping the siege as a very large climax.

how about two or maybe more stories going on at once? Elrond's elves and the elves of Eriador could both be played seperately but at once.

I really think that would be an excellent way to go. I've really enjoyed RPGs that go that way, as you know. ;) And, as you suggested before, Aman, the Lindon Elves could really start right into the story as their own little *plotline*. Early on, I'd expect Gil-galad and Círdan would call a Council, in which the characters from Lindon (and of course Elrond) could participate, if they choose to go in this direction. This Council would be concerned with the matter of hiding the Three Rings, and the rise of Sauron and the threat he is to Eriador, particularly the Elven region of Eregion. One of the decisions it would make would be to send Elrond to Ost-in-Edhil. From here, the Lindon Elves would be a separate group making their way to the city, in haste.

Another pointer on characters which I kinda ran past Durelin - the idea of having other 'perspectives' i.e. other than soldiers. This is a city: so maybe we could have other roles being played, such as a female elf/elves and/or a younger/non-fighting character. It just opens up to give more variety to the game by introducing someone who is not directly fighting but who is, of course, directly affected by it.

That's what I forgot to talk about! *smacks herself* I loved this idea, and I want to make this a proposition: how about the addition of a couple more Elves of Eregion as more 'secondary characters', and as non-fighters? I hope this might open up more interest for those gamers who would prefer playing a female role or a non-fighter as opposed to a warrior.

Oh, and Durelin - about telling me to stop apologising...it's a RL habit that kinda seeps into the Internet as well. It's kinda an inferiority complex, mainly borne of being inferior. Which is, you know, fun. *shrugs*

Hehe... Well, don't worry, I have the same problem much of the time. It's just when I'm posting that I put on my *business hat* and pump myself up for sounding a little less inferior than perhaps I should, just so I can sound like I know what I'm talking about. ;)

And, as Aman said: responses to all ideas, suggestions, and any other ideas anyone might have...we encourage very much that these be voiced.

-Durelin

[piosenniel]

And, as you suggested before, Aman, the Lindon Elves could really start right into the story as their own little *plotline*. Early on, I'd expect Gil-galad and Círdan would call a Council, in which the characters from Lindon (and of course Elrond) could participate, if they choose to go in this direction. This Council would be concerned with the matter of hiding the Three Rings, and the rise of Sauron and the threat he is to Eriador, particularly the Elven region of Eregion. One of the decisions it would make would be to send Elrond to Ost-in-Edhil. From here, the Lindon Elves would be a separate group making their way to the city, in haste.

This would be interesting and doable IF there is a strong writer on the Lindon Elves team. Do you have one in mind that you could recruit, cajole, bribe?

~*~

. . . how about the addition of a couple more Elves of Eregion as more 'secondary characters', and as non-fighters? I hope this might open up more interest for those gamers who would prefer playing a female role or a non-fighter as opposed to a warrior.

I'll put up a couple more Eregion slots designating them as "female character preferred". Let's just call them "characters" without the designation of "secondary" . . . I've found that unless players are just waiting to do a CAMEO, they tend to just fall away from the game if you don't keep them engaged.

[piosenniel]

Here's my Dwarf.

I've done his history starting at the point of the attack leading to the destruction of Eregion. But he can, of course, chime in for the earlier period you thought you might open the game with - I tried to cover it all in his History section.

I also made it easy for the Elves from Lorien to get quickly from the eastside of the mountain range where Lorien is to the west side where Eregion lies. I read in Tolkien's Unfinished Tales and Peoples of Middle-earth (part of Histories of Middle-earth) about Galadriel's feelings toward the Dwarves of Khazad-dum, which were positive, versus Celeborn's feelings which were quite negative.

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Pio’s character

NAME: Riv Stonecut

AGE: 109 (born 2 years before the Three Rings were made by the Elven smiths)

RACE: Dwarf – one of Durin’s Folk/Longbeard clan

GENDER: male

WEAPONS: mattock; war hammer – thick oaken haft bearing a heavy iron head, sharply beaked blade on one side and a flat, faceted hammer head opposite. For battles in larger, more open spaces, he bears an oak hafted pole axe with a razor sharp edged steel head. Iron helm; long chain mail; thick boiled leather vest; plated arm and leg guards.

APPEARANCE: 5’2”; 160 lbs. Muscular; broad and solidly built. Thick, brown hair worn in a single plait down his back. thick, wiry beard, worn in two braids on either side of his chin. Black breeches, grey tunic, dark brown leather vest with all sorts of pockets for small jewelers tools. Black leather knee high boots, well worn, thick soled. Granite grey, hooded cape; on its left shoulder is a bright silver brooch – a small pick axe with a deep red wine colored garnet set between its two blades. It was a gift from one of the Elven smiths for the precious stones and metals Riv’s family mined for him.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Patient, meticulous in his work – he is an excellent smith; working both with large stones for the building of things and with smaller precious and semiprecious gems for use in adornment. He is skilled in metalworking, though his taste runs to those small castings within which he can set his jewels. Does not like change – it’s too disruptive to his need for long periods of time for his work.

Loyal to his family and kin; loyal to the Elves of the Gwaith-i-Mirdain with whom he’s had the opportunity to work and share smithing skills.

Not quick to anger; but when the fires of anger are lit at last, they burn hot within him. He can be a bloodthirsty and avenger of wrongs against kin and friend. He despises Orcs for slaying Dwarves and taking their possessions and homes. Even in battle, he is a patient man, looking always for the most thrifty way to eliminate the foe.

His main weakness is his need to protect his immediate family. At the age of 98, he was fortunate enough to be married. He counts his wife, Unna, more precious than any metal or jewel he can mine. And more precious still is his son, Leifr, 5 years old.

HISTORY: (At present it is II 1695) Riv was born in Khazad-dûm, which was then under the Kingship of Durin II and is now ruled by Durin III. His father is Viss Stonecut; mother, Svala Bronzeeyes. He learned the art and craft of mining stone and metal from his father, whose main business was the mining and selling of metal ore to smiths of the Elves and Men. From his grandfather, Aunn Stonecut, Riv learned the skills for discovering veins of precious gems, cutting them into the shapes which best showed off their faceted beauty, and the setting of the gems into gold and silver. He has since increased his knowledge of this process through his friendships with some of the Elven jewelsmiths in Eregion.

He has a younger sibling, a brother, Skald, five years younger than he. His favored skill is that of working with large blocks of stone for building, and the engraving of such stones with runes. His youngest brother is Bror, who is 64 years old.

In II 1693 Sauron was bent on obtaining for his own use the sixteen Rings of Power he had helped the Elves of Eregion to make. He declared war on the Elves who would not relinquish to him the Three Rings of Power they had made in secret without his aid.

Until that time, it was for the most part peaceful. the Elven jewelsmiths in Eregion prospered and increased their skills many times over. But when they refused Sauron’s requests for the Three Rings, a great shadow crept over the land, even to the West-gate of Moria. Orcs and other foul creatures were set against the Elves at Ost-in-Edhil, the chief city of Eregion where the House of the Mirdain stood. Sauron revealed himself, his fair face he had shown to the Elves as Annatar was now one of darkness and wrath. He was bent on destroying the Elves and whoever stood in his way as he pursued the three hidden rings.

Durin III was the first of the Dwarven rulers to receive one of the seven rings Sauron had helped forge. Celebrimbor, it was said by the Dwarves of Moria, had gifted their King with the ring just prior to Sauron’s demands for the Seven Rings made for the Dwarves and the Nine made for Men.

Fearing for the life of his son, who was but one year old at the start of the war, and for his wife who is now pregnant with their second child, Riv has geared himself up for war. The chain mail and plated guards for the limbs were taken down and cleaned and mended. His mattock he’s laid aside to use only if the Orc armies enter Moria. The edges of his war hammer and pole axe have been made keen. Unna and Leifr have been made safe in the deeper, secret caverns of Moria, along with the other women and children.

He and his brothers, Skald and Bror, are part of a small armed party of Dwarves, one of many, who harry the Orcs with their strike-kill-and-run tactics. At times, too, they are sent to the eastern entrance to Moria. There they lead small troops of Elven warriors from Lothlorien on the quick route through the mountains. These Lorinand have been sent by the Lady of the Golden Wood to aid the Elves of Eregion. She is favorable to the Dwarves, knowing that they were not of the kin who slew Thingol in his own treasury when he would not give them the Nauglamir. Celeborn, however, bears them great enmity, holding all dwarves responsible for the death of his father’s uncle.

__________________________________


Piosenniel's post:

. . . The world was fair, the mountains tall,
In Elder Days before the fall
Of mighty kings in Nargothrond
And Gondolin, who now beyond
The Western Seas have passed away:
The world was fair in Durin's Day . . .

Supper, taken late as was the Stonecut custom, was done. The trenchers, already carried to the kitchen, clanked together in the soapy water as Unna washed and rinsed them, and piled them on the counter to her left to dry. Her back was to the oaken table across the length of the stone floor. And she smiled as she heard the off-key bass of her husband’s singing voice rise up to sing a verse of the song.

‘Fairer yet,’ she chuckled as she took up her dishtowel and dried the spoons, ‘if the notes in this part of Khazad-dûm were more harmonious!’

‘I heard that, woman!’ cried Riv, breaking off mid note. His scowl was short-lived as she laughed aloud, her voice ringing within the tall-ceilinged room.

‘Well, I think you have a nice voice, Papi,’ chirped Leifr, coming to sit on his father’s lap. He twirled his fingers round Riv’s braided beard, leaning against him with a contented sigh. ‘Grandma says you sing just like your father did.’

Riv’s chest puffed out at the compliment and was promptly deflated by Unna’s laughter as she recalled to him that the old woman had also said she was certain that Durin was called ‘the Deathless’ because her husband’s bellowed verses could raise the dead from their thick stone tombs.

An hour or so more of friendly, familiar banter, accompanied by the sound of Bror’s harp and interspersed with more singing, came finally to its end. Leifr was yawning by then, barely able to keep his eyes open. Riv picked up the boy where he lay half drowsing on a bear pelt near the fire and carried him off to the deeper caverns where Unna and the other Dwarven women with their children stayed.

The lamps were turned low along the hallways; the lamp swinging from Unna’s hand as she walked beside her husband cast odd moving shadows along the carven stone walls. Her face was wistful as they reached her apartments. Laying Leifr down gently on his little bed, Riv drew the quilts up over his son’s shoulders and brushed a stray hair back from his little face. ‘Mahal keep you!’ he whispered to the sleeping form. He stood then, and took his wife gently into his arms. ‘When this is over . . .’ he said softly, his cheek against the top of her head. She pulled back and laid her first two fingers against his lips. Her glittering eyes held hope and patience within their deep, dark pools. ‘We will wait,’ she promised him, ‘whether the time be short or long.’

She urged him gently toward the door. ‘You must go. Your brothers and Uncle await. There is news to be shared among you. Reports and rumors of goings on in the upper caverns come to us. We know a messenger has come from the Elven smiths. And that an escort is needed for the Elves who will come from the east, sent by the Lady of the Golden Wood. Since your father was often among the Lorinand, bringing them jewels and metals as they needed, I thought that surely you and your brothers would be the ones to fetch them from the Dimrill Stair and bring them through the East-gate.’

He nodded it was so. Smothering her with a last great hug, he turned reluctantly from her and made his way back to his dwelling. Skald and Bror were waiting at the table where he had left them. Their voices were low as they sipped at their mugs of ale, discussing, he was sure, the preparations for the thirty mile journey to the East-gate and the wait for the Elves of Lorien. Orin, their Uncle, had arrived, too, he saw.

‘Well, what have I missed?’ Riv said, fetching a mug for himself from the cupboard. He topped off theirs and filled his from the skin of ale that hung from the peg on the wall. ‘We’re taking a full complement of weapons . . . yes? No telling how long it might take the Elves to make their way down the Stairs and cross the valley. Or what might try to follow them.’ He took a deep drink from his cup. ‘There have been reports of Orcs sniffing about the Kheled-zaram. Or so I heard.’ He banged the metal mug down on the table’s top, a little ale foam splashing over the side. ‘Love to set my mattock in a few of their skulls and pick out what passes for brains among the filthy creatures . . .’


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[CaptainofDespair]

CoD

hmmmm . . . why don't you send it in a PM to me. Keep the element of surprise intact.

:cool:

~*~ Pio

It will be delivered to you within a timespan of no less than...soon, but not later. :D

In other words, sometime this week, before I forget. ;)

[Durelin]

Pio - I'm still in the process of *digging up* some players, so hopefully, I will have a strong player who can take a fairly active role as a Lindon Elf soon.

And, of course...absolutely beautiful bio.

Please add Nurumaiel to the list of people that may post on this thread, as I'll be working with her concerning what kind of character she'll be playing as soon as possible. Thanks.

And the last piece of business for now is that I'm still waiting to hear back from Gwydion...

Now, to get working on that bio and first post... I meant to do that yesterday, but I ended up being at my grandmother's all day. Excuses, excuses, I know. :rolleyes:

;)

-Durelin

[piosenniel]

Leaving this post in simply as a post space holder.

Carry on!

~*~ Pio

[Firefoot]

Here's my character bio; I've included a carry-along to be my character's companion.

~*~*~*~

1.) Have you ever played in an RPG at the Barrow Downs? – YES - Which ones? Bloodstained Elanor, Seekers of Truth, Siege of Gundabad, Sailing Away

2.) How many RPG’s on the Barrow Downs are you currently involved in? Two

List them, please: Island of Sorrow, Shadow of the West

Please note you may play in only 2 (TWO) Shire games at one time. Exceptions to this may be made for this on a case by case basis by the Shire Moderators. (The Green Dragon Inn DOES NOT count as a game for this.)


3.) Have you posted in The Green Dragon Inn – YES

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Firefoot's character

NAME: Grimkul

AGE: He’s not really sure – all years tend to run together in dark tunnels under the mountains - nor does he care. But even if he did care, it wouldn’t matter much since he can’t count much higher than 20.

RACE: Orc

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: Grimkul’s favorite weapon is a long, slightly curved scimitar which he hasn’t ever cleaned, more out of laziness than any other reason, though he does pride himself on the different kinds of blood the sword bears: Elf, Dwarf, Man, Orc, rat (and other rodent), fish, bat, and once he was even lucky enough to spear a bird. He has a wooden bow, on which is scratched all kinds of crude symbols and marks; his arrows are fletched in black feathers. He also has a short dagger and a heavy wooden cudgel, useful for bashing in heads and squashing things.

APPEARANCE: Grimkul is of a smaller mountain race, though he is rather large for that, with comparatively broad, albeit hunched, shoulders and tough wiry muscles. He is bowlegged. He has dark, splotchy skin, and what sparse hair he does have is coarse and black. His yellow eyes are accustomed to the dark and bulge out of his misshapen skull. His teeth are yellow and crooked, and not a few are missing; his fingernails are similarly yellowed and tough. His only armor is a chain mail coat, over which he wears dark breeches and a jerkin made mostly of bats’ wings crudely sown together.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Grimkul is not very intelligent and, if confused, is more likely to kill the source of confusion than try to sort the information out. The notable exception is his more intelligent companion Ulwakh; their relationship being a mutually beneficial “brains/brawn” type. Grimkul tends not to back down from a fight even when his chances at winning are considerably slim, whether because he is too stupid to realize this or doesn’t care is undecided. Luckily he is larger, stronger, and more skilled in weapon use than most of his kind. He dislikes being among the legions of Sauron’s army and would prefer to go back to the mountain tunnels in the Misty Mountains. Nor does he bear any love toward his commanders (who are generally bigger than he is), and, largely at Ulwakh’s bidding, avoids their notice whenever possible.

HISTORY: Grimkul was born in the Orc tunnels of the Misty Mountains and has spent most of his life there. This part of his life was basically uneventful: he survived off the creatures sharing the tunnels with him, fought in some small battles between Orc clans, and sometimes ventured out of the mountains in small raiding parties (always at night) to harry any living things unfortunate enough to be in the area. Several years back, however, he was part of a raiding party that had gone farther than usual from their mountain tunnels and had a run-in with a small force of Sauron’s. Those that survived (including Grimkul and Ulwakh) were driven to Mordor and integrated into Sauron’s army.

~*~*~*~

Carry-along character – Grimkul’s companion Ulwakh.

NAME: Ulwakh

AGE: About the same as Grimkul, though he could probably give a more precise answer, as he understands numbers and such better – he could probably count to 50, and if he thought about it would be able to tell you that they were at least that old.

RACE: Orc

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: Ulwakh’s first two weapons, a scimitar and bow, are similar to Grimkul’s. His favorite weapons, however, are a variety of crooked knives with jagged edges, no two alike. These are useful for throwing, stabbing, cutting, and other more ordinary purposes (e.g. cooking, should he ever care to cook), but more interesting to him are the different ways each can provide pain. Ulwakh does not enjoy killing and fighting so much, but he finds giving pain fascinating, and his knives are useful for this.

APPEARANCE: Similar to Grimkul in complexion, though little else. He is much smaller and less strong, and his arms and legs are proportionately longer. His skull is rounder; his eyes are deeper set and an almost luminescent green color. His garments are also similar to Grimkul, except he is far less choosy in the materials for his jerkin and he wears a helmet as an extra piece of armor.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Ulwakh is quite intelligent and cunning (for an Orc, that is). He is quick and agile, though not particularly strong or prone to fight. He prefers to flee rather than fight, though he can ably defend himself (or Grimkul can defend him; it’s all the same to Ulwakh). He takes a perverse delight in giving pain, and while his subjects are usually small animals that he catches, he prefers such rarer subjects as Elves and Dwarves when he has had the fortune of a captive. Ulwakh has no desire of personal power, as he generally sees leadership roles as a good way to get killed (by followers), and in further self-preservation he draws as little attention to himself as possible.

HISTORY: About the same as Grimkul.

[piosenniel]

Anyone noting an "edited by piosenniel" on their post - I'm just setting up the Bios for transfer to what will be the game's discussion thread.

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Do we have some sort of consensus from the players or preference by Durelin for the name of the RPG?

~*~ Pio

[piosenniel]

Everyone

Please start to get your CHARACTER BIOS onto this Planning Thread --- SOON

NOTE:

If you need to make changes to your BIO - do it directly to your original BIO post and then alert me with a new post that you've done so (yes, I read every one of them . . .)

Also, if you need to do a FIRST POST for your character - place it at the bottom of your original BIO post - and again alert me with a new post that you've done so.

~*~

Durelin

Which characters need First Posts for the game submitted - Everyone?

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[piosenniel]

Bringing this forward:

Please remember: only these people may post to the thread at present -


Just check the First Post to this thread for the list of names

Thanks!

~*~ Pio

[Arestevana]

Just checking in...
This is going to be an awesome game.
Esgallhugwen and Nurumaiel, it's great to be role-playing with you again. :)

[piosenniel]

Sleepy Ranger has requested to be an Elf of Lindon.

I've put you on the list of posters to this thread, Sleepy Ranger.

Please get your Character Bio worked up in detail and place it on this thread for Durelin to see.

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Everyone

Please start getting your BIOS submitted to the thread or to me if you're a Cameo character.

Thanks!

~*~ Pio

[Durelin]

Sleepy Ranger - So glad to have you!

Concerning bios: So far a couple people who requested to play cameo roles can't complete their bios yet, as I, in my disorganization, have not given them something to work with! Arestevana is included in this, and anyone else added to the list of cameos will be in the same position until I get my act together. :rolleyes:

Included in getting my act together is getting a bio and first post completed. So I'll just drift back into the shadows and go back to diligently working... ;)

Gwydion - Please get back to me concerning my PM!

And, if possible, it'd be nice if someone could tell Orofaniel that she needs to clear out her PMs. :D

EDIT: Oooh, almost forgot...again!

Concerning the title of the RPG, 'Doom of the Mírdain' sounds lovely to me, though I also really love 'Red Flows the Sirannon'...

[Firefoot]

My personal preference is "Red Flows the Sirannon," but I also really like "Doom of the Mírdain."

Nurumaiel - It'll be fun RP'ing with you again! :) Arestevana, Sleepy - I'm looking forward to playing with you all for the first time! :)

[Durelin]

Which characters need First Posts for the game submitted - Everyone?

Sorry I missed this. I tried to respond yesterday, but then I had troubles with the forums, and several minutes later I was pulled from the comp, so... Who needs first posts? Well, right now I'm torn between starting the game in the 1590s of the SA, or starting it around 1693, with the everyone responding to and preparing for the threat of Sauron (the very first post of the game would relate a bit concerning the creation of the Rings and such, but the game would jump ahead).

The first option would require first posts only from the Elves of Eregion and the Elves of Lindon, I think. The second option would require first posts from everyone except the Orcs and cameo characters (I think).

The first option could be a bit much; could be a bit early of a start, and could make for a strange transition later. But if it works, it might be very interesting, as long as it works for everyone. The second option would still give us a little setup time, and without what could be an awkward transition (though most likely some kind of *time jump* will be needed to get to the siege itself).

Which would everyone prefer? Please tell me, I need input in my uncertainty. ;)

-Durelin

[piosenniel]

hmmm . . . too bad this didn't come up sooner . . .

This really is enough for 2 games, it seems. And what we've done is started to design the 2nd game.

Here's part of a PM from Child that she sent when we were discussing Durelin's present RPG idea:

For the past few weeks, I have been seriously thinking it would be interesting to do a game based not on the later warfare but on the earlier forging of the lesser Rings. This is why I created Lindir for the Himring game. I have always wondered at what point in their work the Elven smiths suspected something might be amiss. The fact that Celebrimbor did his work on the Elven rings in secrecy certainly suggests he knew something was not right. Of course, exactly how much he suspected about Sauron and the Rings is a matter for conjecture and can't be pushed too far. But it seems to me there had to have been a gradual but rude awakening that suggested Sauron was up to no good. That would be fascinating to trace.

I would recommend that we start at the SA 1693 point and as you say, have a prologue that details the events leading up to that year.

Let's play the game through from that point, then maybe we can persuade Child to design a game for the earlier period . . .

OR :p perhaps if Durelin has not burnt herself out she would like to work on that proposal with Child :cool:

I really do think the game from SA 1693 will be enough for us to chew on and digest for now . . . it will keep all the players engaged and I think it will be a long and in depth endeavor. Starting at the very beginnings of the Rings of Power I think would stretch us too thin.

Besides . . . I have a selfish motive . . . I'm playing my first Dwarf character . . . I don't want to wait to have to play :rolleyes:

~*~ Pio

[Sleepy Ranger]

Hello,
Its been ages since I've posted here, its been ages since I did any proper writing but I hope this'll do.

Character Description Form:

1.) Have you ever played in an RPG at the Barrow Downs? – YES/NO - Which one?- Yes, Forgot the name, last year around September.

2.) How many RPG’s on the Barrow Downs are you currently involved in?

List them, please: None.

Please note you may play in only 2 (TWO) Shire games at one time. Exceptions to this may be made for this on a case by case basis by the Shire Moderators. (The Green Dragon Inn DOES NOT count as a game for this.)


3.) Have you posted in The Green Dragon Inn – YES
_______________________________________

For your character please include:

NAME: Rilrom

AGE: 1,532

RACE: Elf of Lindon

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS (No magical, super-hero, mithril weapons. Just good solid Middle-earth weapons and armor only that is appropriate to the race of the character and the time period.): A slender bow and a quiver of arrows, a long sword called Taris and a trusty dagger. For armor he is clad in naught but a light leather shirt.

APPEARANCE: He has brown hair to his shoulders, brown eyes, slim and about 6’. He is slenderly built and has chiseled features.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: (No half-Elven characters. No mixed-type characters. No super-heroes. No assassins. No one all powerful, martial arts proficient, or having any magical traits. Just regular characters with normal abilities for their races only): Personality- Light-hearted, carefree, fun loving and arrogant would be the best words to describe Rilrom. His laid back and easy going attitude leaves many people in doubt of his talents but he is an asset to any field he chooses to be but more oft than not he is too lazy and unmotivated to take any initiative. He enjoys a good fight though and that as well as proving himself to his father is what leads him from fight to fight.
Strengths- He is very likeable due to his amiable nature. He has a quick and sharp mind and is never afraid to try out different ways of approaching a situation apart from the tried and tested methods. He has a quick mind and can get out of a sticky situation rather easily owing to his speed and mind power which he uses in battle rather than strength to overcome a foe.

Weaknesses- Due to the fact that he takes risks very often, people are rather uneasy trusting him. Though he can talk his way out of most situations its his talking that gets him in them in the first place. He looks down on others due to sheer arrogance, proving himself their superior every opportunity he gets, which has led to him making quite a few rivals.

HISTORY: Coming Soon

'Later
Sleepy

[Durelin]

I really do think the game from SA 1693 will be enough for us to chew on and digest for now . . . it will keep all the players engaged and I think it will be a long and in depth endeavor. Starting at the very beginnings of the Rings of Power I think would stretch us too thin.

All selfish motives aside, you're quite right. And so...my first post will be a rather long one, including a prologue and a first post dealing with my character, and then I'll need first posts from everyone except the baddies and cameo characters, unless the baddie would like to start getting ready for the battle and all that early. ;)

OR perhaps if Durelin has not burnt herself out she would like to work on that proposal with Child

Ooooh...now that might be lovely...if I haven't burnt myself out by the end of this, that is. :p

EDIT: Sorry, I spoke too soon... :D

[Child of the 7th Age]

OR perhaps if Durelin has not burnt herself out she would like to work on that proposal with Child

Ooh.... That would be great!

One way or another we really have to do that game! I am more than willing to work on it once my summer of gallavanting is over. I agree with Pio than it would just be too much to chew to try and handle both the subplots in a single RPG. And the later scenario, in itself, has plenty of dramatic potential, to say nothing of blood and gore. :D

[piosenniel]

Mithalwen has requested to be an Elf of Eregion.

I've put her on the lists.

~*~ Pio

[piosenniel]

Arry will be a Dwarf. He'll pick up my character's brother.

~*~ Pio

[Mithalwen]

ERm beforeI decide.. what are teh elf women supposed to do if they ain't fighting - presumabky they ain't smithing either? So is it just making tea and saying "Did you have a nice day at the forge dear?" or "my you look handsome in you armour" ? ;)

[Durelin]

ERm beforeI decide.. what are teh elf women supposed to do if they ain't fighting - presumabky they ain't smithing either? So is it just making tea and saying "Did you have a nice day at the forge dear?" or "my you look handsome in you armour" ?

Hehe... Well, the fact that the elf women cannot fight does not mean that they are incapable of doing anything heroic and such. And I don't see why an elf woman, if there is an acceptable reason, shouldn't be able to do at least some kind of smithing/crafting. Of course, not every elf woman is going to be, but maybe one or two? And perhaps this is not what you have in mind, but the leading of *refugees* to the north at some point prior to or during the siege could easily be part of what an elf woman could do, and of course I doubt any elf woman who stays in the city will be without both a need and the ability to defend herself. But really, I'm open to all sorts of ideas, just as long as we stay away from warrior princesses and Luthien wanna-bes. ;)

EDIT: Oh, there's one thing I've been meaning to change to the 'Characters Needed'... Yes, yet another change, sorry Pio! I'm thinking 2 Elves of Lorien and 3 Elves of Lindon rather than the opposite. Do you think that's do-able? Though that's with me thinking very optimistically that we will be getting that many people to play roles. :D

[piosenniel]

I changed the Characters Needed post. :)

Mithalwen

About Elven women and warriors:

What I'd prefer is that there be no female Elves who serve in the armed troops/guards/guerilla-warfare-spying-on-the-enemy sorts of roles. Tolkien made it quite clear, however, that female Elves were as capable physically as the males. So, when the fighting comes to the city, then I expect the woment to bear arms against the forces of Sauron. (No bare arms, though, they should be wearing light mail or arm-guards).

And I see no reason why a female Elf could not be a crafts-person.

[piosenniel]

Folwren will be joining the game as a Dwarf of Moria. She will be my character's youngest brother. Arry will be my character's younger brother.

Welcome to both! And please get your Character Bios on this thread soon.

~*~ Pio

[Arry]

Looking forward to playing in this game!

Here's my character bio (and thanks to Pio for letting me flesh out her carry-along brother character):

---------------------

Arry's character

NAME: Skald Stonecut (Riv’s younger brother)

AGE: 104 (5 years younger than Riv; born 3 years after the Three Rings were made by the Elven smiths)

RACE: Dwarf – one of Durin’s Folk/Longbeard clan

GENDER: male

WEAPONS: Mattock; for battles in larger, more open spaces, he bears an oak hafted pole axe with a razor sharp edged steel head. Iron helm embossed with runes; long chain mail; thick boiled leather vest; plated arm and leg guards, like his brother.

APPEARANCE: 5’1”; 145 lbs. A little shorter than his brother and of a more wiry build. Thick, brown hair worn in two plaits down his back; they are bound together at their end with a leather thong. Thick beard, worn in two braids on either side of his chin. Dark brown breeches, tan tunic. thick brown leather belt with loops hanging from it – he carries some of his hammers and other tools in it. Black leather knee high boots, well worn, thick soled. Granite grey, hooded cape,

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Like his older brother, he is a patient man – both in his work and in his relationships with friends and family. He is an excellent smith; working with large stones used for columns, doors, staircases, walls. He enjoys figuring out how to make the blocks fit seamlessly together. His artistic needs are met in the carvings he does to decorate stonework. He is especially fond of working with runes and embellishing them. He is an adequate metal worker, but really would like to leave that sort of work to other Dwarves with more skill.

Like his brothers, Riv and Bror, he is loyal to his family and kin. He has not had much dealing with the Elves of Eregion, save for the trips he has made with his brother to sell the gems and ore their family mines, but he is willing to accept his brother’s favorable assessment of them.

He is even less fond of change than Riv. Anything that disturbs his routine can make him peevish. Having said that, he is more quick to anger than his brother.

Skald is not married, though he is at the right age to do so. A lack of available Dwarven maidens is the reason, plus the fact that these are times of great unrest and the thought of bringing a child into such troubles is undesirable.

He is very fond of his nephew, Leifr, and will often take time from his work to teach or entertain the lad. He has some banked pride that the boy is interested in runes and how they spell out words. Skald has made a small set of chisels and a little hammer for his nephew, and often Leifr will be found banging happily away on a small stone scrap as his uncle works. Svala, Riv’s wife, is fond of her brother-in-law and he has a room in their apartments and takes their meals at her table.

One of his talents apart from the arts of stonemasonry and carving is the composition of poems to celebrate their clan’s history.

HISTORY: Much the same as Riv’s, except he was apprenticed to one of the Dwarven stone masons of their family and then to another who specialized in the carving of runes on stone.

Between carving and building projects, Skald still travels with his father to the Vales of the Anduin, trading with those settlements of men there.

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Arry's post


Skald leaned forward in his chair, his chin planted firmly on his fist. The fingers of his right hand drummed quietly on the table top as the others spoke of war and killing. His dark eyes were troubled with news he’d heard earlier that day. Not wanting to frighten Unna and Leifr he’d waited to share what he had learned until they were safely away in their quarters.

Before Riv could answer Bror's question, Skald spoke up.

‘Want to know the interesting . . . no, make that disturbing . . . morsel I picked up from the King’s guard today? . . . And from Father, too.’ Riv and the others looked at him expectantly.

‘Father was speaking to the King. About some special delivery of stones . . . no, not now but way back . . . before we were twinkles in his eye I think. Anyway, they were for the head of the Jewelsmiths’ Guild, Celebrimbor . . . and a shipment of mithril, too . . . some very high grade stuff.’ He leaned even further across the table, his voice dropping low. ‘Apparently the Elves used them in some big secret project, according to one of the guards. He said Durin opened his locked iron chest and took out some small carven box. He and Father had their heads together whispering about the object in it. Whatever it was it gleamed brightly when the light caught it for a moment. Then the King locked it away . . .’

Before they could hiss ‘And . . .?’ at him. Skald went on.

‘Well, I asked Father about it. At first, all the old man would do was shake his head, his fists clenched. They were fools, he muttered, looking into the distance past me. Damned, silly fools! he said angrily. Father said there was someone whom the Jewelsmiths placed their trust in . . . someone who taught them some special skills in the art of smithing.’ Skald’s throat was dry from talking and he paused, taking a long pull at his mug.

‘And now the Elves, the King had told Father, had done something to displease this teacher of theirs. They have something that he wants badly and he’s bent on getting it. And what’s worse apparently he’s not the kindly, gracious fellow they thought him. He’s got the force to back up his words. That’s what the Orcs are doing all stirred up and starting to cause troubles.

‘When I asked Father who this fellow was, he grew red in the face and spat on the floor. Mahal take the deceiver! he growled. Calling himself Aulendil! . . . Why, he left Mahal’s service long ago . . . taking after that black-hearted Master . . .’

Skald took another sip, the alefoam glistened on the tips of his thick mustache. ‘The old man ranted and raved for a bit . . . you know how he can go on. I was trying desperately to piece together the dribs and drabbles of information I’d eked out from him. Finally, in desperation, I shouted “Hey!” at him as loudly as I could. Got his attention, it did. Quiet little Skald yelling!’

‘Look, I told him, Riv and Bror and Orin and me along with a few of others of us have been asked to escort some Elves from the Lady of the Wood, under the mountain and out to Ost-in-Edhil. Armed Elves. And there may be more coming through. Sounds like it’s more than just some polite visit from one land to another. What are we getting into? Who’s this person you keep cursing at?’

‘Well, I have to tell you what he said next nearly unbraided my beard!’ Skald rubbed his chin hard with his hand, a familiar nervous habit on his part.

‘The Dark Lord! Father whispered, not wanting to name him out loud.’

‘The Dark Lord! I squeaked . . . yes, I’m not ashamed, I squeaked . . . you all remember the horror stories of the great battles against him and his Orcs and worse . . . before Beleriand fell under the waves. Anyway, I managed to stutter out the question that was now burning in my mind. The Dark Lord had escaped from where The Great Ones put him and was back?’

‘Not him, Father said. . . . but just as foul . . . his bootlicking, black-hearted-as-his-Master, servant . . . Sauron . . .’

‘ “Sauron!” I managed to say in a mangled yelp. I remember dreadful stories about him’

‘Yes, Sauron. He’s got himself a dark place between the Ash Mountains and the Shadow Mountains, the King’s told me. And he’s stirring up the foul spawn his Master made. Orcs and who knows what other fearsome beasts. He’s coming for something the Elves have hidden away . . .’

Skald’s voice drifted off into the silence of the room. His hands were clasped tightly about his mug and he stared into it as if it held the secret to keeping his sense of dread at bay. He looked up at his brothers and uncle . . .


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[Folwren]

Alright, here is my character... Since this is my first RPG, I can't promise that I'll be doing everything right. If anything's obviously wrong or out of place, please, anybody, just PM me and let me know.

Character Description Form:

1.) Have you ever played in an RPG at the Barrow Downs? – YES/NO - Which one?
No.

2.) How many RPG’s on the Barrow Downs are you currently involved in? None...since the Green Dragon doesn't count.

List them, please:

Please note you may play in only 2 (TWO) Shire games at one time. Exceptions to this may be made for this on a case by case basis by the Shire Moderators. (The Green Dragon Inn DOES NOT count as a game for this.)


3.) Have you posted in The Green Dragon Inn – YES/NO - you must have posted in the Green Dragon Inn or played in an RPG at the Barrow Downs in order to play in this game. Yes...once.

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Folwren's character

NAME: Bror Stonecut

AGE: 64 (45 years younger than his brother Riv, and 40 years younger than Skald)

RACE: Dwarf – one of Durin’s Folk/Longbeard clan

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: When hand to hand in combat, so to speak, he uses a short, shafted axe with a wide axe head on one side and on the other, a four inch, sharp spike. When out of range, he enjoys the use of smaller, lighter axes which he has learned to throw rather accurately, and when out of that sort of fighting range altogether, he has an excellent hand with a small bow.
Iron and leather helm, long and short sleeved chain mail, thick, leather vest.

APPEARANCE: Somewhat short next to his brothers, four feet eight inches, and still small in build and stature, maybe making 110 pounds. (Okay, pause here, if this is too light, then tell me. I'm trying to figure out the stature of a small, young dwarf, but Tolkien, as far as I can tell, never gives you weights, and all I have to go by in comparison is my little brother, who's two inches taller than Bror, but is only 65 lbs.) His hair is brown with a hint of red in it, barely long enough to braid in the back, and his beard isn't long enough at all, though it does reach his collar.
Boots that come to his knees, and a green cloak and hood over all.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Unlike his two older brothers, Bror has something of a quick and fierce temper, but it can generally be settled down before too long, and is without a great store of patience. Any real anger that stays and burns quietly is difficult to waken, though he does have his limits. He is, however, pretty easily befriended and on the most part is cheerful.

Change doesn't bother him very much and he loves the sort of adventure of going out and slaughtering orcs, having learned to hate their very name (perhaps he took the stories a little too personally and to extremes). He takes particular interest in the making of weapons - axes, swords, arrow tips, and what ever else - though he doesn't have the patience to make armor, or chain mail. He managed to get an apprenticeship with an Uncle, a sword smith, and he works with him when he's not out with his two brothers on a scouting party.
Whatever time he does not spend at the smithy, or in a scout troup, he often uses on learning how to play the harp. The instrument that he plays is one that his mother's great grandmother crafted, and is a beatiful instrument. Most people are surprised that he has been able to continue playing and learning without loosing interest, but music seems to mean something to him, although he can never quite put it into words. He would not call himself very good at it, though he is better than some.

He holds a certain respect for his older brothers and almost nothing can make him angry faster than an insult sped their way. He also is rather protective of the rest of his family. He loves his sister-in-law and Riv's young son and was very much disappointed when they were taken back to the safer caves.

His main weakness is not staying focused on the job at hand and letting his mind wander...and his next main one would be getting mad too fast. (Hopefully Riv will be there to calm him down when he needs it.)

HISTORY: Assuming that this is the year II 1697, Bror was born in 1633 in Moria, then called Khazad-dûm, if I am not mistaken. As often as he could when he was a youngster he would find the smiths that made weapons and armor and would watch them until someone came to fetch him back home again. He hasn't seen much of the outside world, still being young, but he intends to, in time.

------------------------------------------------------------

Folwren's post

Bror sat silently, plucking with less heart at his harp as he watched Riv take his wife and son away. They passed from the room out of sight and he sighed and tilted his head a little towards the smooth wood of his instrument. He lifted a second hand and once again the chords sang sweetly, though somewhat sadly.

“I wish they didn’t have to go back there every night. We hardly see them anymore,” he said quietly. A hand clapped him on the back and he looked up over his shoulder at Skald, his older brother.

“Cheer up and put the harp away, we’ve got business to discuss.”

Bror got up from the table and took his harp away a few paces and set it on a chair, possibly to be picked up later. He returned and took his seat again as Skald rose and gathered mugs and a skin of ale to wet their throats while they talked.

He had just sat down again when their Uncle Orin entered. A smile came into Bror’s face and he got up again.

“Good evening, Uncle!” he said. “Take that chair, and I’ll get another...How are you?”

The general formalities were swiftly dealt with and for a minute, the three of them sat together in silence. Bror could not stand that for long. What they had to talk about had to do with orcs, and of all creatures, he thought he hated those the most.

“What do you know of this business, Uncle?” he asked, turning to Orin. “I don’t know how much you have heard.”

“I know no more than the little I have heard from gossip,” Orin replied.

“That’s probably not very much, since there is little known,” Bror said. “All that I’ve been told, and I hope that I hear more tonight,” he added casting a glance towards Skald, “is that a company of dwarves are needed at the East Gate to escort a number of elves through Kazad. War’s brewing, evidently, and though we’ve only heard whispers of it, they are getting louder and the rumors are taking shape into ravenous villains who need slaughtering. It’s rather serious, by all accounts.”

Orin lowered his head towards his mug and Bror and Skald both turned their ears towards him to catch the words he muttered to his ale.

“How have I been in the dark for so long?”

“Because you’re always locked up in your room working on who knows what!”

The three dwarves at the table turned quickly to see Riv walking towards them. He gave them a smile as he passed and got himself another mug from the cupboard and a second skin of ale. He came back to the table and pulled a chair up next to Orin, filled their mugs and then his own, held it between his two hands and looked at them seriously.

“Well, what have I missed?” he asked immediately. “We’re taking a full complement of weapons...yes? No telling how long it might take the Elves to make their way down the Stairs and cross the valley. Or what might try to follow them.” A pause while he took a deep drink of his ale. “There have been reports of Orcs sniffing about the Kheled-zaram. Or so I heard.” He banged the metal mug down on the table’s top almost violently and Bror started slightly. “Love to set my mattock in a few of their skulls and pick out what passes for brains among the filthy creatures,” he said, giving his youngest brother a grim smile.
“Yesssss!” Orin exclaimed with evident excitement and obvious agreement. Bror shifted his eyes from his brother to his uncle.

“So, this is more serious than I imagined. I had no idea you all hated those orcs as much as I did. You were always the ones telling me to calm down and quit shouting that I’d kill a whole regiment.” He turned his dark eyes back to his oldest brother. “Is that what we’re going to do?”

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[Folwren]

Thank you very much for allowing me to join. I hope I don't end up messing stuff up, but I'm trusting people to tell me when I'm going wrong.

If anything in the bio looks wrong, let me know and I'll reconsider.

And if no one's noticed, I'm pretty nervous, but very much excited, about this. :) (I'm just afraid of appearing like a fool.)


-Folwren

[piosenniel]

That looks great, Folwren!

You'll see an 'edited by piosenniel' on your post - I'm setting it up for transfer to the game's general discussion thread when we open for play.

I've also put a place for your First Post to the game at the end of your BIO post. Once I've done my first post - you can follow its lead.

Again, welcome aboard!

~*~ Pio

[piosenniel]

Boromir88 has requested the last slot for the Dwarves of Moria.

Welcome aboard! I've put your name on the list of posters for this thread.

Please get your Character Bio onto the thread soon.

Thanks!

~*~ Pio

[Durelin]

Wonderful, wonderful! I'm so excited! Welcome Folwren and Boromir88! And wonderful bio, Folwren and Arry. And please, Folwren, don't be nervous...though, I'm nervous about this game too. :eek:

Here's my first apology. I'm sorry for holding things up, though this has given more time for people to join. But since I still haven't gotten my bio or post finished, no one's been able to really start on their first post, considering... I'm very sorry for this, and I have almost completely finished the *prologue*, and am over halfway done with my bio. So, we'll be moving along soon, I hope.

Thank you, Pio, for changing the 'Characters Needed' thing. And thanks to everyone for taking part in this game, and putting up with me. :D

[Folwren]

Don't apologize too profusely. I probably prefer it this way. It's given me time to research a bit, consider my character, and catch my breath and figure things out about RPing. :p

I'm actually still wondering what exactly will need to go into the first post. I understand that I can wait until Pio writes hers, and she waits until you write yours...I guess that I'll figure out what I need to write once I've had those two first examples. I would take some suggetions, explenation, or help, however. :)

I'm looking forward to your bio. Those things are enjoyable. And the prologue should be extremely interesting. Fun stuff.

[Boromir88]

Durelin it is a pleasure. :)

1.) Have you ever played in an RPG at the Barrow Downs? – YES/NO - Which one?
Yes, Ungoliant's Children, Siege of Gundabad, and Sailing Away.

2.) How many RPG’s on the Barrow Downs are you currently involved in? None.

3.) Have you posted in The Green Dragon Inn – YES/NO - you must have posted in the Green Dragon Inn or played in an RPG at the Barrow Downs in order to play in this game. Yes

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Boromir88's character

NAME: Orin Bronzeeyes (Uncle to Riv, Skald, Bror)

AGE: 205 years old. (One of the eldest of the dwarves still left in Moria).

RACE: Dwarf, Durin's folk/Longbeard clan.

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: A, two-handed, double-bladed, battleaxe he uses for tight, cramped areas. A small one-handed iron axe used as a secondary weapon.

APPEARANCE: 4'11, rather short compared to other members of his kin but he more than makes up for it. Over the years Orin has packed on a few extra pounds as well. He has a long greyish/white beard that reaches down his thighs and braids his pure white hair into one LONG ponytail. He can still wield an axe better than most and his age and plumpness have no effect on his endurance when he gets into a rage. Orin is not one to trust to armor, feeling as it slows him down (or maybe it's just become more of a burden). He does wear a mail hauberk crafted by himself. He also carries a wooden shield with a rune only he understands.

PERSONALITY-STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Orin is feared as one of the best when it comes to wielding an axe in battle. Often when he sees orcs (or some foul creature) he builds into a maddening rage and you can hardly tell he is 205 years old. There lies his biggest weakness. He is lightly armored compared to the other dwarves, although he will never admit it, heavy armor becomes a burden to him. Also, with his growing age he has lost a lot of the speed in his attacks that his young nephews still have. However, his elogance and efficiency, when wielding a weapon, makes up for it.

Orin is a strong believer in family and strong bonds with his kinsman. He would put the life of any of his fellow dwarves above his own. The problem is if you aren't one of his kinsmen, or a family member, he finds it hard to trust you or make friendships. He often remembers prior feuds and has trouble forgetting the past (unless you happen to be another dwarf). If you are one of the few Elves he respects then you would be grateful to have Orin at your side, but if not, then it's just best to stay out of his way.

HISTORY: Orin was born 98 years before the forging of the three elven rings. He is one of the oldest dwarves still left to defend Moria. For most of his life Orin just spent learning the fine art of craftsmanship from his father, Frorin. He has never married, and has no children, but does have three nephews (being the eldest brother of their mother); Riv, Skald, and Bror. With no family of his own Orin has often tried to look after his nephews, whenever he could.

Orin has lived to watch the two eldest brothers to grow up and become fine, stout dwarves. He now focuses mostly on the youngest, Bror, realizing that sometimes he has a quick temper, and can get him into some trouble. He feels that Riv and Skald are old enough now that they don't need his guidance much anymore, but that doesn't mean he cares for one more than another. He simply recognizes Bror's anger and tries his hardest to guide him and would not able to cope with the possibility of failure.

----------------------------------------------------------------------
Boromir88's post

Orin was well aware of the rumor of the gathering of orcs, but he was not prepared on leaving, and had no intentions to. He sat fiddling with his double-bladed battleaxe wondering what this meeting was going to be about. Most of colony had heard the whispering of threats from orcs and other dark creatures. Perhaps it is just to confirm the situation, he thought.

While Orin was deep in thought he had not noticed that he cut his thumb on his axe. He smiled as he was pleased it was still sharp and if the rumors of orcs were true they aren't getting through Moria without a fight. Then it suddenly came to him, a poking pain in his thumb. It wasn't a serious cut, but it felt like one of those annoying papercuts; a sharp pain for days.

Orin cleaned up his cut, grimacing a bit while doing it, and decided he should be heading off. When he got there his two younger nephews, Skald and Bror, were already there, but he had not seen Riv yet. That is odd he mumbled. He greeted his two nephews with friendly hugs and went off to sit with some of the older dwarves. He wanted to see what they knew about the matter. Most of them knew just as much, or less than Orin, which wasn't much. He ran into an old friend, Fawrin, who was full of the latest rumors.

"They say a man named Annatar, who was once a friend of the elves, has turned against them." Fawrin began. "He is beginning to gathering a large force of orcs to launch an assault on Eregion."

Orin stood and pondered these "rumors," and wondered if there was any truth in them at all. "Who was, or is, this Annatar?" Orin asked.

"I don't know. All that's said is he was once a friend of the elves. Why he would all of a suddenly want to attack them is beyond me." Fawrin said.

"If he is attacking them, you mean." Orin chuckled. "Don't put faith in the whispering of the outside world. Especially if they are dealing with elves." Orin said elves in a sarcastic, demeaning way, for he did not like them very much. Except the elves of the lady of the Golden Wood. Her and her people had often had good relationships with the dwarves. Now that his mind was off elves, he still wondered where Riv was. "Have you seen Riv?" He asked Fawrin.

"No I haven't," he answered. "but I haven't gone looking for him either." They both laughed. "Well I better be off. Someone has to do the rumor spreading." Orin chuckled again as Fawrin left. He had always like Fawrin for his humor and ability to bring a smile to someone.

Orin sat down next to Bror and Skald and began to discuss the situation. Orin began to realize that the rumors weren't just rumors anymore; war was threatening and it would surely effect everyone.

"How have I been in the dark for so long?" Orin said to himself, but the others heard him.

"Because you're always locked up in your room working on who knows what." Laughed a familiar voice. Riv had finally come. He greeted everyone and took a seat, as well as getting a mug of ale, and got right into business.

‘Well, what have I missed? We’re taking a full complement of weapons . . . yes? No telling how long it might take the Elves to make their way down the Stairs and cross the valley. Or what might try to follow them.’ He took a deep drink from his cup. ‘There have been reports of Orcs sniffing about the Kheled-zaram. Or so I heard.’ He banged the metal mug down on the table’s top, a little ale foam splashing over the side. ‘Love to set my mattock in a few of their skulls and pick out what passes for brains among the filthy creatures . . .’

"Yesssss." Orin shouted in a bellowsing voice that shook the hall. The mumblings of war and Riv's talk had inspired him.



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[piosenniel]

PLAYER/CHARACTER LIST SO FAR:



See Page 4 for complete list

[Amanaduial the archer]

Helloo again...

Just two quick pointers before I skidaddle for the weekend again - sorry...

En la sujet de la title... I actually do much prefer Farewell to the Elvensmiths. It just has an air of melancholia that seems to be a running them through elven history; and the aura of wistful sadness balances out the 'fair share of blood and gore', as Child so put it.

Secondly, about Durelin's dilemma over the first post and starting point: I see your point, Pio, this could be extended into two games, cherish the thought, but I don't think that necessarily limits where the game could start - after all, wouldn't want to waste a good ol' fashioned forging scene if the second game wasn't to materialise, right? ;) You're right, we should probably have addressed this beforehand, but no matter at all. Personally, I would favour, in a way to start with the 1590s and the forging, but with one pointer: just have a single introductory post. A scene setting, so to speak. A show of the importance of this most vital event around which the entire game, all it's events and every character's fate will hinge. Basically a little hefty on the importance side ;) However, I would then skip immediately to around 1693 and get the first posts in there. So as far as first posts are concerned, the 1690s are the starting point for the game, but for the very, very first post, the forging in the 1590s would be highly preferable in my opinion.

Just my two pence (what ho, old chap) to add to the pile.

-Aman

[Durelin]

Please add Evinyatar to the list of players. :)

And in response to what Aman has addressed, I will have the prologue up ASAP, which begins with some major setting up in about 1590. If I can ever get my bio fully completed :rolleyes: , I'll post it with that. And that will very soon!

[piosenniel]

Here's the list of preferences for the game title:

Farewell to the Elvensmiths - Aman
Siege of Eregion
Sack of Ost-in-Edhil
Doom of the Mírdain - Enca; Durelin; Firefoot
Red Flows the Sirannon - Pio; Firefoot; Durelin; Folwren

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A prologue to place the RPG within its historical setting is a great idea. And has been done before in different ways for other Shire games.

The only thing that concerned me was actually starting the game play at the forging of the Rings and continuing on to the flight of the refugees with Elrond to found Imladris. If played in depth, as I'm hoping this game will be, it would simply be too ponderously long.

If the other game with Child and :)Durelin:) comes to life it will be really interesting to see our characters in their heyday.

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Welcome, Envinyatar! I'll put your name on the posting list.

~*~ Pio

[Envinyatar]

Looking forward to playing in this game.

I'll take one of the Elves of Lindon characters. Will get the bio up early next week.

- E -

[Kath]

I'm so sorry this took so long and that it is pretty short but this is the first time I've done this so I'm not entirely sure as to what is expected.

NAME: Olburz

AGE: Unknown

RACE: Orc - a corrupted elf

GENDER: male

WEAPONS: He carries a sword and an axe but prefers to use the strength in his body to weapons when fighting. He wears armour of metal gathered from the dead of previous battles but wears no helm as his skull is remarkably thick.

APPEARANCE: Large both in height and width. Hunches over a lot so has a slight hump on his back. Ugly as sin with numerous scars from old battles as well as his toturous corruption.


PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Follows orders though not always with good grace. A tendency to be surly to leaders has made him a little unpopular wtihin the camp but when he does do as asked he does so with well with efficiency. He is trustworthy in that if asked to kill he will do so without hesitation and with glee.

HISTORY: Captured and tortured by Sauron's servants he took to his corrupted form with relish.

[Durelin]

Okey...here's my bio, and the prologue.

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Durelin's character

NAME: Maegisil

AGE: 1552 at the time of the forging of the Rings, 1655 at the beginning of the War of the Elves and Sauron

RACE: Elf, dwelling in Ost-in-Edhil in Eregion

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: Maegisil carries a long, slender elvish blade that he crafted himself, forging the blade from mithril gifted to him by his master Celebrimbor, and using wood from the mallorn, among the material traded from Lórinand. When in battle, he carries a large war shield bearing the crest of his lord, an emblem that Celebrimbor had designed himself, refusing to bear the Dispossessed of the House of Fëanor, as he had renounced the deeds of his house following the death of Finrod, caused by the many effects of the Oath of Fëanor, and only he remained of that house by the Second Age. Maegisil carries the sign of his lord in great respect and admiration, feeling it a part of his duty.

APPEARANCE: Maegisil stands quite tall, even for his people, at about 6’5”. He is not at all heavily built, but has notable muscles in his legs and arms, as a fine swordsman. He has a very agile and supple body, and is quick on his feet. His hair quite dark, nearing black, and is kept to fall only a few inches below his shoulders. He has grey eyes with a tint of green to them that can make his eyes look completely green if he is wearing a green tunic or the like. His face is a slender oval; his nose is perhaps slightly on the large side, but fitting his face; his lips thin; his chin rather prominent, and his ears rather small and, of course, pointed. (And though his ears are small, he has excellent hearing.)

Maegisil usually wears a shirt of a light, misty grey color under a tunic a dark blue that hangs to about midway down his calf. He wears fitted pants of the same colour as his shirt, black soft-leather boots, and a dark leather belt at his waist that his sheathed hunting dagger usually hangs upon.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Duty is very important to Maegisil, sometimes seemingly the most important thing to him, and it has the greatest effect on his personality. He is very passionate about the people and ideals that are close to him, often so much so that he can be very close-minded, and his judgment can be clouded by his feelings. He is undyingly loyal to those he loves, as well as his people and his beliefs, and can be naïve about this.

His passion and loyalty are a part of his overall strength of character, as an elf with a strong and loving heart whose perseverance drives him to great accomplishment as a warrior and a servant, and makes him always ready to rise to the occasion, no matter what is demanded of him. His faithfulness and his fervor and deep capacity to love are also a large part of his relationship with his wife, Sairien. He is very trusting of the people that he sees as trustworthy, but everyone must earn this view from him, and this is not an easy thing to do. When it comes to whom or what Maegisil places his deep-rooted faith in, he is not at all naïve.

He is also not at all the kind of person who loves ‘freely’. Perhaps it would strengthen his character if he was such a person, but it is in his nature to show love for a very select few, and to show only the amount of respect that seems proper for everyone else. He is most often outwardly stern and dutiful, and has been told to ‘loosen up’ on occasion. This appearance sometimes makes him initially disliked, though most often those who get more acquainted with him warm up to him quickly. Maegisil may not be an open book to anyone but Sairien and Celebrimbor, but he can easily lose his severity and show a warm face to others.

HISTORY: Born in SA 38, Maegisil was one of the first born in Lindon. He was raised as a both a warrior, a defender of his people, and as a craftsman, who could serve his people in many ways. In SA 750 he was among the younger, adventurous elves who accompanied Celebrimbor in the founding of Eregion. In those travels, Celebrimbor came upon the young elf practicing his swordsmanship (mainly, in his brashness, to show off what he had recently learned from an elder, more seasoned warrior – one of Celebrimbor’s personal guards), and examined the blade Maegisil was using, in curiosity. When the young elf informed the lord that he had crafted it himself, Celebrimbor became even more interested, and they spoke for a long time. This was, of course, not the last time they spoke, and it came that the elf-lord practically adopted Maegisil as a son.

In the many years that followed, he became more of a brother than a son, growing wise and strong in both mind and heart, as well as body, through the help and simply the observation of one such as Celebrimbor. His crafting skills were also drastically improved, as we was personally instructed by the elf-lord. Soon, Maegisil was appointed by the lord to a position in which he acted as a personal assistant to Celebrimbor, though his job was less like a servant’s and more comparable to that of a counselor, though Maegisil would never be as bold to consider it such. Around SA 1200, however, Maegisil began to counsel his lord less, as a person named ‘Annatar’ had arrived, and, following this, the elf-lord began to spend quite a bit of his time in the forge. Still, Maegisil saw much of Celebrimbor and aided him many a time until around 1500, when the elf-lord grew even scarcer. The one called Annatar was always coming and going, and by the early to mid 1500s, Maegisil did not see him at all, and was gladdened by this. He assumed that he would see more of his lord with Annatar gone. But he found himself to be wrong.

The Lord Celebrimbor still performed all his usually duties, and spoke with his friend Maegisil, but did so less and less, slowly. Late in the year 1590, Maegisil asked for the lady Sairien’s hand in marriage, as he had long been acquainted with and had spoken to her, as she was part of Celebrimbor’s court. But, soon after this, Celebrimbor disappeared for 6 days, working constantly in the forge. When he finally emerged, he acted strangely, speaking of Rings and of his creations. For years Celebrimbor hid what he had crafted, until late in 1692, when the Elves were on the brink of war with Sauron, who had grown much in power. Following this, he sent the Three to Lindon, where it was determined where to hide them, so that Sauron would never possess them. As Celebrimbor prepares for defending Eregion from Sauron’s forces, Maegisil aids him in every way that he can, and readies his sword for the defense of Ost-in-Edhil.

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The Three ~ A Prologue

Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky,
Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone,
Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die,
One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne
In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.

In the Second Age of Middle-earth, deep within the heat of the forge, the rhyme was fulfilled. Sauron, under the disguise of one named Annatar, had come to the Elven-smiths, the Gwaith-i-Mírdain of Eregion. Dark magic bred deception, and Sauron the Deceiver seduced the Elves, taking on a body fair and majestic. The might of a Maia and the skill of the elven craftsmen brought into the world a new power, a power which few knew the true greatness of. It is unlikely that even its creators knew its full power, besides perhaps the great trickster, the servant of Morgoth. Might and authority, fueled by deep magic from the dawn of time, was poured into the molds in the shapes of rings, and these creations, the greatest of crafts forged by the Noldorin smiths, became the Rings of Power.

The magic of all nineteen of these rings, and one other, would be a part of Sauron’s greatest treachery. Only three would survive and make the journey to Valinor with their bearers. These were the greatest of the Rings, named Narya, Nenya, and Vilya, which had been forged by Celebrimbor himself, Lord of Eregion.

~*~*~*~

c. SA 1590

“It has been quite some time since I saw Lord Celebrimbor…” The Elf trailed off, an unspoken question hanging on the silence that followed. “It has been some time for me as well, Master Annúnfin,” Maegisil replied, speaking as if he was only lightly commenting, but answering his companion quite seriously. He knew it was important business when Annúnfin wished to speak with the Lord Celebrimbor, and when the Elf-lord had been absent from his normal duties for so long. “I will be sure to inform him that you wish to speak with him, when I do see him,” he finished, his last words bringing many thoughts to his mind. When…I hope that shall not be much longer.

It was difficult for Maegisil to explain to all those who wished to receive an audience with the lord that he could not even speak to his master, and had not been able to for many days; this was unexpected, as Maegisil had served Celebrimbor as the lord’s attendant for many years now. Though Maegisil would never be so bold as to say it, he was also a close friend, and an old friend, of the lord.

Celebrimbor had been spending almost all of his time in the forge, sweating over his work, and conversing mostly with the visitor, Annatar. The strange elf – at least, Maegisil believed he was an elf; he was certainly of a fair race, though it was impossible to say which he belonged to for sure – seemed to be some sort of a magician. What business this elf had with the Lord of Eregion was a mystery to Maegisil, as well as to all those who had never even had a chance to speak to the lord before, and those who knew him well. It was bewildering to all except those who worked in the forge with Celebrimbor and this ‘Annatar’, some of the greatest of the Noldorin craftsmen, second only to Celebrimbor himself. For almost seven days now the forges at Ost-in-Edhil had been burning, it seemed, day and night, and had been kept off-limits to most of the city dwellers. Maegisil had ventured to speak to his lord the previous afternoon, and had briefly watched several of the smiths at work. There had been much noise emerging at a constant rate from the forge for those past 6 days, so that Maegisil had barely been able to hear his own voice over the clamor, but now all was quiet, and only the barred doors told anyone that they were still hard at work. Hopefully, though, the silence meant that their task, whatever it was, was nearing completion, and Maegisil would no longer have to wait in his Lord Celebrimbor’s antechamber, spending hours pacing and straightening gemmed statues and chests, and delicately woven tapestries on the walls, and rich cloths over table-tops…none of which needed any straightening whatsoever.

Annúnfin muttered some kind of thanks with a slight bow of his head in simple respect, and turned to go. But Maegisil watched as the elf turned back in one swift motion and looked him in the eye, and he prepared himself for more questions that he could not answer. He was surprised when Annúnfin simply said, “I was pleased to hear you have found yourself a wife, Maegisil.”

Maegisil stumbled on his thoughts for a moment, his mouth open to reply but words coming out. Finally his mind caught up with his mouth and he responded. “Thank you,” he began, a little uncertain, and obviously caught off-guard by Annúnfin’s comment. “It has been wonderful, very wonderful.”

A small smile formed on Annúnfin’s face, his eyes full of an understanding that Maegisil believed he would never have. Master Annúnfin was decidedly his elder, and never left any doubt of this in Maegisil’s impression. The elder elf turned to go again, and this time, Maegisil watched him walk away through the large gilded doors that exited into the great hallway that led up to his chambers. Maegisil’s mind traveled to thoughts of Sairien, his wife. But he did not have long to dwell on these, as they were interrupted by the flinging open of the doors of the antechamber. Immediately Maegisil looked up from the patch of beautifully tiled floor he had been staring at, knowing before his eyes even had a chance to see who was entering the chamber that only one person had ever flung those doors open before, and normally in excitement.

“Maegisil! My dear Maegisil!” Celebrimbor was practically shouting, seemingly frantic with excitement, full of energy, and obviously quite happy to see the elf that he had just found waiting in his antechamber. “I have much to tell you!”

“As have I to tell you, my lord,” Maegisil responded, maintaining an outwardly calm and dutiful appearance, though he was full of happiness to see that his lord was quite safe and healthy, and to finally be able to speak with him. He also felt a certain amount of excitement following Celebrimbor’s entrance, matching the elf-lord’s manner.

“Please, Maegisil, there is no necessity for any ‘my lord’s. These are my chambers, and so you may call me what you please.” Maegisil knew this, though he did like showing what he felt was the proper respect, and was prepared to respond, but he was ran over by Celebrimbor’s words, which rushed out in his enthusiasm.

“But you must know…I have finished them, and they are the greatest of all things I, or anyone, has ever crafted. Perhaps they are great enough even to relinquish my cursed House’s honor, though I doubt there is anything even an immortal can do in this Age or any Age to come that would out-do the power of the Oath of Fëanor.”

The lord paused long enough for Maegisil to speak quickly, “What have you finished, my lord?”

In his haste, he had forgotten to leave off the ‘my lord’, but it seemed that Celebrimbor no longer cared, as he was too deep in thought, seemingly enthralled with this new accomplishment that he spoke of vehemently. “Why, they are the Three. They are the greatest of the Rings of Power, of all 19. Yes, 19, after 90 years. And I fear there must be more to come. They truly are like nothing this world has known, even in Ages past, even with the War of the Silmarils long behind us. Of course, the creation of most of the rings was made possible by Annatar, and now…” He trailed off, his excitement slowly turning from confusion to what could only be fear. That was not something Maegisil was accustomed to seeing on the face and in the eyes of the elf-lord.

“Now what? I do not understand…” Maegisil trailed off, realizing that he really had nothing to say, though there were hundreds of questions running through his mind.

“Now, I am afraid I have made a grave mistake. A mistake that will affect the lives of many in both this Age and the Age to come, perhaps even Ages to come. I am very afraid, Maegisil, very afraid of what I, and my craftsmen, have done, and I am even more afraid of what the one I know only as Annatar has done, and what he will do. O by the Valar, Maegisil! For the first time in my life, I do not know what to do.”

Maegisil felt very uncertain in the silence that followed; he was confused, as well as uneasy and afraid, though he did not even understand why he was at all at unrest, except for what he saw in the look in Celebrimbor’s eyes and what he heard in the tone of his voice.

“What should I do, my lord?” he asked, cautiously, breaking the silence.

“I do not…” he stopped in the middle of this thought, took a breath, collecting himself, and started again, his thoughts renewed, “Soon, the Three must go from here. They must be hidden; they cannot be kept here. Though Annatar is gone, and he has been gone for some time, they mustn’t be within his reach. There is no way to undo what has been done, but, though they seem a curse to me now, the Three will not leave the house of our people.”

~*~*~*~

c. 1600

Maegisil bowed before the Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn next to an elf he did not know the name of and their dwarf companions. He and this elf had traveled through Moria at the direction of the dwarves to exit through the eastern gate and make their way to Lorien, where they had recently been welcomed and led to Caras Galadon. Maegisil had been told very little by Celebrimbor, and was given only the instructions to guard his elf companion, and not bring any attention to themselves or their movements. Following orders, Maegisil did not ask the elf his name, and spoke to him only to make suggestions as to what paths they should take to avoid different obstacles of the land. Now that they had reached their destination, Maegisil did not speak at all.

The strange elf rose from his bow as the Lady Galadriel came forward. He turned to give Maegisil a look that clearly meant to stay out of his business. So Maegisil backed away to stand some distance from the elf, gesturing that the dwarves following him. Of course Viss Stonecut and his companions did not like this at all, and they grumbled a bit before joining Maegisil. Viss was the first to move, and the rest followed his lead. At least two of the dwarves present were certainly related to him, and younger, and obviously they held some kind of respect for him. There were only four dwarves, but even four of that race was enough to be quite the crowd, and they looked odd standing in a clump in the domain and presence of so many elves. Maegisil remained removed from them and watched in wonder as Galadriel accepted a small wooden chest from the unnamed elf. The Lady’s face was marvelously frightening as it scanned the faces of those who surrounded her, meeting Maegisil’s eyes for a moment. She did not smile as she had when she greeted them.

Suddenly she spoke, and spoke to all present. It seemed she was not as keen to hiding the proceedings. “Remember that there will always be light in Lorien, as I will bear this Ring, Nenya. You will always be safe here.” And as she raised her hand aloft just slightly, all present realized she had opened the chest and already donned what it contained. The beauty of Nenya startled them all, and left them full of wonder. Soon, far away upon the western shores of Middle-earth, the Elven-kings Gil-galad and Cirdan would wear the Rings Narya and Vilya, and the Three Rings for the Elven-kings, and Queen, would remain as powers of good in Middle-earth until they passed over into the West.

~*~*~*~

Late in the year SA 1692

Maegisil rushed up several flights of stairs only to stop and cautiously enter a pair of gilded doors, his mind filled with memories, all that he recalled from a day over a century ago. It did not seem that long ago, and yet the thought that the day he recalled was only several days after he had asked for his Sairien’s hand in marriage was nearly unbelievable.

Entering the chamber behind the gilded double doors, Maegisil found, of course, exactly whom he was looking for, reclining on a long couch and examining a game board with many small, flat, rounded stone pieces on it in designated positions. It was some kind of strategy game that the elf-lord had once tried to teach to Maegisil, praising how consuming it was and how much it put the mind in a struggle, forcing it to think as quickly as it could under pressure. Just what a general needed, he had said. As Maegisil had no interest in becoming a general, and simply wished to remain in his place at Celebrimbor’s side in battle, he had quickly given up on the game.

“My lord,” he began cautiously, interrupting Celebrimbor’s thoughts so that the lord’s head snapped up from the game board with a perturbed look on his face. His face softened quickly, though, and he asked Maegisil what had brought him here.

“Well, sir, we have received word from the King Gil-galad that the servant of Morgoth, Sauron, has grown in power enough that his armies have begun to terrorize the eastern part of these lands.”

“Sauron…much have I heard that name of late.” The elf-lord rose, a troubled look on his face, and began to pace. “He has even been in my dreams,” he paused in his pacing, and in his words, to look Maegisil in the eye, urgency written upon his face.

“It was only a matter of time before he would attack and strike back at our people.”

“But we still are in possession of the Three, and they are safe.” Maegisil cut in, reminding the elf-lord that there was at least one possible advantage.

“I can only hope that they will be more a blessing than the curse that they seem to be,” Celebrimbor quickly said in response to Maegisil’s statement, still unsure of whether or not the safe existence of the Three was in fact a good thing.

“They are not a curse as long as they are safe in the hands of Kings and a Queen of our people," the younger elf assured his lord. “And Lord Elrond has been sent to our aid with a considerable force,” Maegisil said, hoping to bring some kind of relief to his lord, uncertain of what the elf was so afraid of, and quickly growing afraid himself.

“It will be some time before he will reach us here, and Sauron will be moving quickly. Not too quickly – he is too wise for that. But his armies will arrive in Eregion, and they will march upon the gates of Ost-in-Edhil, and he will call upon me. But he does not know where the Three are, nor of the oath I have sworn…”

“We will be prepared for Sauron’s attack, my lord," Maegisil said, again trying to give his lord confidence in the situation. “Sauron is very strong, and our strength here does not match that of Forlindon and Harlindon, but there are many in Eregion that will fight for you.”

Celebrimbor laughed slightly, leaving Maegisil confused. It was almost a bitter laugh, and was the kind of laugh you hear from someone who is distressed and yet finds something to be darkly laughable. “I know you will fight for me, Maegisil,” the elf-lord said, “but I ask it of you and others to fight for our people, for their families.”

Maegisil only nodded, standing grave and silent before his lord, and recalling the day over century ago when Celebrimbor had first told him of the Rings. He was again afraid as he had been on that day, and when he looked at Celebrimbor, tall, fair, and brooding, he knew that the lord felt that same: afraid and uncertain. The biggest difference to Maegisil this time was the more prominent presence of Sauron. Since around the year 1200 of that age, word had it Sauron had been establishing his fortress in Mordor, and now the threat of the Dark Lord was even more of a reality, and all were learning to tremble slightly at that name, most likely to the pleasure of its bearer.

Celebrimbor asked Maegisil if he would bring the King’s emissary to him, feeling it of course proper that he receive them and speak to them himself. The younger elf quickly obeyed and left the elf-lord alone, deep in thought. The master of the Elvensmiths had much on his mind, and few of his thoughts were pleasant.

As he had sworn, the Three Rings, the greatest creations he had ever crafted, which he had hoped would be a blessing to himself and to his people, would never fall out of the hands of the Eldar, as they were hidden safely. They had been for close to a century, as he had long awaited the time when Sauron the Deceiver, or ‘Annatar’ as he had known him for a time, would strike with the power of his Ring. But the other rings were all in Sauron’s possession. Celebrimbor kept coming back to this thought, the knowledge of just how far the Deceiver’s power extended. But, as the elf-lord kept telling himself, he would never have the greatest, the Three. They would be a powerful defense for his people. Or so, at least, he hoped the future of these rings would unfold. I beg of Ilúvatar, let not the Oath of Fëanor mar this.

[Folwren]

For a title, I prefer Red Flows the Sirannon, I think. Frewell to the Elvensmiths is good, too, but that'd be my second choice.

And prologue with the forging of the rings and then skipping to the 1690's sounds best to me. (My character isn't alive at the forging of the rings, I don't think, so to go back there and hang around that time period would put me out altogether.) I've not yet read Durelin's prologue, but I'm about to.

[Envinyatar]

Here is my character for your perusal. :)

Let me know if anything needs tweaking.

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Games previously played in:

Holiday in the Sun; Escape from Nurn; A House Divided; Wilderness, Weathertop, and Wild things.

Posted in the Green Dragon: Yes

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Envinyatar’s character

Name: Ondomirë

Age: born in I 200 (310 years at the fall of Gondolin; 2080 in II 1697 when Eregion fell. 245 years older than Gil-galad; 325 years older than Elrond)

Race: Elf; Noldor, originally from Gondolin

Gender: male

Appearance: 6’ 7” (a little over 2 meters), 220 lbs (around 100 kg); lithely muscled, finely chiseled face; grey eyed; raven hair worn in a thick plait to his mid back. Wears: Light grey tunics of a soft material over darker grey breeches. Black twice wrapped, wide leather belt with a plain silver buckle. Black leather, mid-calf boots. Dark blue cape which bears on its left shoulder a silver-white brooch in the shape of an arrow head, set with a deep purple stone.

Weapons: Great bow of yellow yew wood; unadorned black leather quiver hung from his belt filled with arrows fletched in white, dark blue, purple, and black. Plain short sword in a worn leather sheaf hung opposite to his quiver. Black leather vambraces traced with an arrow head design in silver. Long, light metal mail vest, shimmers like fish scales. Light, silvered leg guards. Silvered helm which bears a fan of purple feathers on its front piece.

Personality, strengths, weaknesses: Even tempered, reliable. Honors the Valar; loyal to the High King. Quiet, reserved man, and save for his size, unobtrusive. Keen observer of those about him. Excellent archer, having served under Duilin in Gondolin with The House of the Swallow. Adequate at blade work for close in fighting.

History: Born in Gondolin about 75 years after Turgon founded it. His family was part of the Folk of the Swallow, one of the twelve Houses of Gondolin. The Folk of the Swallow were formidable archers and served the High King of the Noldor in the defense of the Hidden City.

When Gondolin fell to Morgoth’s troops, Ondomirë escaped with the remnant of Turgon’s people and took refuge with them in the havens at the mouths of the Sirion. Gil-galad, who had become High King after the death of Turgon, was at that time also residing with the Exiles at the Havens. Ondomirë never married; he is the only remaining member of his family.

Elrond was born at the havens and later, after choosing, to remain among the kindred of the Elves, also chose to remain with Gil-galad. After the War of Wrath and the sinking of Beleriand, Gilgalad established a kingdom in Lindon.

Ondomirë pledged his fealty to Gil-galad and also went to Lindon to serve him. During his long years of service, he has grown close to the King and become a trusted advisor.

He has been sent with Elrond and a large troop of 500 Elven warriors from Lindon to assist the Elves in Eregion against the onslaught of Sauron. Ondomirë is the Captain of the Bowmen company comprised of 200 archers. At Gil-galad’s request, he serves as Elrond’s close advisor on this campaign.

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Envinyatar's post

Autumn/SA 1695

It was late in the second day of the council. The sense of urgency had not diminished, nor had the anger. ‘The King counseled the fools,’ murmured Ondomirë to himself, his head shaking at the news that Morgoth’s captain, Sauron, had at last revealed himself. ‘Annatar, he called himself. Lord of Gifts! Pah! Even now the name brings a taste of soured bile to my tongue. Were they so eager for his knowledge that they forgot the hard lessons Fëanor brought upon us?’

Many, many years had passed since the tall, fair-faced Annatar had come to Lindon, offering to teach his skills to the Elves dwelling in the High King’s lands. He’d been sent away then by Gil-galad; his offers to show how Endor, Middle-earth, might be made as fair and lasting as Valinor rejected. Since then, it was told, he had insinuated himself into one of the Elven guilds in Eregion. Teaching them his glamoured skills. And now, dread Wolf that he was, he had pounced on his prey as it contrived to oppose him. His retribution would be swift and overwhelming. Death, and worse, would come to the Elves of Eregion, to their cities, their lands. Sauron’s armies would sweep west over the King’s lands until he and his dark army stood at the borders of Lindon itself.

‘And what does he seek, I wonder?’ asked Ondomirë to himself. ‘He and his Lord always hated the Elves. But reports from Ost-in-Edhil and from Lorien imply there is more than just the wish to subdue the Elven peoples. What have the Mirdain done . . . what has the House of Fëanor done now?’

Ondomirë sat back in his chair, his eyes on Gil-galad at the head of the table as he spoke with various of his trusted captains. He could see the beard of Cirdan as the Elf stroked it, teasing hard answers from it, it seemed, with the thoughtful movements of his fingers. The bright golden hair of Glorfindel gleamed in light thrown from the jeweled lamps. His head moving in ‘yays’ or ‘nays’ as they spoke. And Elrond, his dark grey eyes thoughtful, bent over the map of Eriador, as he traced a route from The Havens to The Hithaeglir, the Misty Mountains.

A frown creased Ondomirë’s brow as he watched Cirdan and Glorfindel deferring to what Elrond was saying. The King, too, nodded his head and clapped Elrond on his shoulder. Ondomirë looked up as the King stood, announcing to the room in general now that troops would be sent to aid Celebrimbor and his people in Ost-in-Edhil. And that Lord Elrond would lead them.

‘Now that is an interesting move,’ commented Ondomirë, loud enough for the Elf to his left to hear him. ‘The King has passed over Cirdan and Glorfindel, both more seasoned than Elrond, and chosen the younger Elf to lead his troops for this battle. Why is that I wonder?’ Brows raised, he glanced at the Elf who was now listening to his out-loud ponderings. In the meantime, the King had called for volunteers to lead the various divisions of Elves he would be sending.

His eyes narrowing as he wondered at Gil-galad’s choice, Ondomirë stood, saying he would gather and captain the archers if it were so wished. ‘Best we give the stripling all the support we can, don’t you think?’ he said quietly as he sat back down.

[piosenniel]

Kath

Good Orc bio! :)

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Envinyatar

Good character!

~*~ Pio

[Folwren]

Could I add to my bio that Bror is appreciative of music and has begun to learn how to play the harp? In at least The Hobbit it says that there was music in the halls under the Lonely Moutain, and then Gimli sings in Moria...so it wouldn't be very much out of place is Bror liked it. I had meant to make it so originially, but so many different things drove it out of my mind that day and since then, I've been hesitant to change anything.

[piosenniel]

You can edit your BIO at any time - but just put a post on this thread telling me that you did so.

Thanks!

~*~ Pio

[Folwren]

Piosenniel, I have added something to my bio. :) Not much, but you wanted to be told if anything was changed.

-Folwren

[piosenniel]

Thanks for the heads-up, Folwren! I've edited the character bio on the game's discussion thread (HERE (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showthread.php?t=11990)).

~*~ Pio

[Amanaduial the archer]

The bios are looking lovely :)

Just a note to once again apologise (because that's what I do) and to say that my bio of a female elf of Eregion (a craftsperson) will probably be up some time later on today.

Thanks :)

[Amanaduial the archer]

Heeeere you go... I hope she's alright, I've spent rather longer than I usually would on this profile and the history is certainly rather obscenely long - I shall have my first post up later today or tomorrow.

Well. Anyway.

Character Description Form:

1.) Have you ever played in an RPG at the Barrow Downs? – YES - Which ones(s)? The Ambassador’s Son, An Audience with the King, Bloodstained Elanor, Brotherhood: a Story from the Last Alliance, Cirith Ungol, Crimson Sword, Escape from Nurn, Fall of the North, Gondorian House Call (unfinished), Kidnapped!, Land of Darkness, Last Hope for Moria, Legacy of Traitors, A Ride to the Dark Side, Rivendell, Roll Out the Barrels, Search for the Lost Messenger, Shadow of the West, The Shadows of Umbra, Wolf Run. I’ve missed something, but can’t remember what…

2.) How many RPG’s on the Barrow Downs are you currently involved in? Two: Fall of the North and Shadow of the West.

3.) Have you posted in The Green Dragon Inn – YES.
_______________________________________


Amanaduial's Character

NAME: Narisiel Mirdain

AGE: 1210 at the time of the forging of the rings, 1313 at the beginning of the War. (born in SA 380)

RACE: Elf, originally from Harlindon, now dwelling in Ost-in-Edhil

GENDER:[ Female

WEAPONS: As a woman, Narisiel was not formally trained with weapons, but her father taught her more than a little practical knowledge with a sword and arrows, somewhat more than simply self-defence. Her husband, Sirithlonnior, a soldier, echoed this concern that she should be able to use a weapon, and so subsequently Narisiel is fairly proficient with a sword. She therefore crafted for herself a sword that can be used double-handed but also works well when used single handed: she is strong enough to wield a heavier weapon due to years working in a forge and is therefore strong for a woman, but knows that in a battle situation when she might have to use her sword, there would certainly be others with simply more brute strength than her, and so the skill that can be gained with a lighter weapon may be favourable. Hers is therefore lighter than a traditional double-handed sword, but a little heavier and longer than might be expected of a single-handed short stabbing sword. It is more a thing of beauty than weaponry, with the finest leather binding its hilt and a pommel and guard laid over with silver, and alfirin leaves winding a slim, delicate chain down the blade to the tip: Sirithlonnior teased her that such a flower is too associated with death, but Narisiel simply smiled and pointed out that did that not make Alfirin all the more appropriate for a weapon?

APPEARANCE: Narisiel’s features could have been crafted by her own delicate fingers, her fine boned face symmetrical and certainly striking. Her skin is pale due to the hours hidden behind a guard in a forge or in her workshop poring over some delicate piece of finery, her chin a little pointed and determined, her sharp, intelligent eyes solemn and thoughtful yet quick to flash with amusement: they are surprisingly dark and so are all the more striking when set in her pale face. Her pale face is framed with almost black hair, again making a stark contrast against her light skin; it falls down to her waist, although this is not particularly practical for her work, and so is usually tied up in a long plait down her back, or twisted in several plaits to keep it out of the way: this means that whenever she lets it loose, her hair retains a permanent series of waves all down its length. Narisiel is not especially tall for her people, standing at about 5’9”, and she is quite slender but muscular: outside of her forge or workshop, she wears clothes similar to any other lady of high standing, for her profession has taught her to love beauty, and such dress belies her muscles to an extent, lying in context with her delicate features; but in the forge she wears clothes much like any of the other smiths but obviously with a few adaptations: dark, sturdy clothes, often of leather or similar primarily practical, hard-wearing materials: a jerkin worn over a shirt, whose sleeves are usually rolled up above her elbows, breeches of a softer, more easily moveable material, over which a long apron is worn, which reaches down to mid-shin. These are the clothes that are usually only seen by other smiths, however: in public she dresses as a lady.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Narisiel is a woman of natural intelligence that she had done her best to use in her studies to become one of the foremost smiths of Eregion. This also required a fair amount of determination of course, and determination she certainly has: she is not one to back down from a challenge or from something she believes in or loves dearly, and her determination reaches to the point of stubbornness. However, that is not to say that her heart will always rule her head, and her prudence and wise advise is valued by Celebrimbor, as is her quick wit by both her Lord and her husband. It is a wit that is not always seen, however: in public, Narisiel remains quite quiet with those she does not know well or yet trust, and she is quick, often too quick, to judge other people. Her quiet, often solemn nature probably came initially from her father’s own rather sombre personality when she was growing up, always in comparison to her dead older brother although he always valued his daughter for what she was. The quiet, modest understanding that existed between Narisiel and her father is something that remains in her relationships in the present as well, and she is not, as some are, afraid of silence in a conversation. But that is not to say that she is always so: she is quick to show her amusement or her love when in private, and her son’s birth has perhaps extended her capacity to love, and love him she does, with a fierce, protective love that, for almost the first time in her life, overshadows her work. Maybe some of the fire from her forge has slipped into her nature, for her fierceness often shows in other areas as well, and in a debate her quietness can quite vanish in place of powerful and heated oratory skills. She is a skilled smith, a wise counsellor, a loving mother and a good wife, all at once a very private person as well as a public figure.

HISTORY: Born in Harlindon, Narisiel was the only daughter and eventually the only child of her parents, her mother and brother both drowning only a few weeks after she was born. Her father, an elf much older than his young wife, never blamed his daughter for surviving in place of her strong, intelligent older brother, and neither was he consciously disappointed in his only child being a daughter, but nonetheless Narisiel always felt the pressure, his need for her to succeed in place of her brother. As she was female, Narisiel would not trained as a warrior, as a brother would have been; but her father was not an especially affectionate or excessively extravagant man, and subsequently his way of showing his love for his daughter was not to spoil her as an only child, but to instead lavish upon her a gift that would last her far longer than material goods: the gift of an education. Instead of being given jewels, Narisiel was to learn how to make them – to earn a living and, at the same time, to earn a way of making her father proud. Subsequently when she came of age, Narisiel was sent East to Eregion to a friend of her father’s, for where better to learn to be a smith than from the Mirdain themselves?

Narisiel studied hard and her natural intelligence and hard work paid off as she rose in renown in her profession, being unusual both as a female and as a foreigner, but always with the backing of her father, although he remained in Lindon, and her mentor, an experienced jewelsmith – Narisiel in turn specialised in jewellery especially. The great effort and time she put into her profession often left the young elven woman with little time for herself, but, coming herself from the ‘land of music’, she had a love of music and kept this up – and eventually it was through music that she met her husband, Sirithlonnior, a captain in the army of Eregion, who she married in 1482. But Narisiel continued to rise in renown and skill, reaching the dizzy heights of the innermost forges in which Celebrimbor himself worked, and there faced her greatest challenge yet: working on nineteen rings, the greatest rings that would ever grace the face of this earth. Like the rest of the smiths and craftsmen who talked to Annatar of the rings, Narisiel fell under the spell of the magic and wonder that these rings would be, and so with those select few, she threw herself into the creation of those rings. To an extent, maybe, she was jealous of Annatar, his skill so great that he was immediately welcomed into Ost-in-Edhil without question, rather than having to work his way up as she had; on the other hand, maybe part of her wished to impress him, and to impress the Lord Celebrimbor. But the best was not yet to come: in the year 1590, Narisiel, along with a few more select jewelsmiths, was to work on the pinnacle of nearly a century’s work: the forging of three rings, three rings that would almost cast the others in shadow, fire, water and air; the three greatest elven rings.

Her enthusiasm in those last six days almost turned to an obsession, and not for any of the three men in her life would she come out of the forges – or reveal her work to them. Narisiel barely stopped to sleep or eat, so determined was she to prove herself as one of the Mirdain, to live up to the honour that had been bestowed on her. But as she had worked on the rings, from about halfway through their forging in the 1540s, she had felt some sort of unease, something…not quite right about the making of these nineteen rings, and in the last six days as Celebrimbor locked himself away with only those few smiths and the mysterious Annatar, she realised that she was not the only one to feel that unease: Celebrimbor had the air of a desperate man, a man working to forge paradise but with the worry that it would simply yield only an empty utopia. And as the three rings were finally completed, their delicate finishing touches detailed by Celebrimbor himself, the pride in Narisiel’s heart was somewhat overshadowed – overshadowed by a doom sense of ‘what have we done’. Things that powerful could not be all good…but little did she know the power of what those beautiful, perfect creations could do.

In the last one hundred years, the elven smith continued her work as a jewelsmith, but also extended her expertise into other areas of crafting, working secondarily on armoury, often fine, ceremonial pieces, as close to jewellery as possible; for how could she work solely on jewellery when she knew that she could never create something as perfect and powerful as those rings? She tried to put them out of her mind, but seemed haunted by them: she was blessed with a son, and Sirithlonnior gave him the name Artamirion, noble jewel, and although the name seemed to fit, her son being the only thing she could imagine more beautiful than those rings, she was unsure if she liked such a comparison, the dread that it seemed to entail. After the creation of the rings, Narisiel became an advisor to the Lord Celebrimbor, and at the same time a friend, but it was a somewhat wary, almost guilty friendship, both elves unable to forget the three elven rings. In time, the memory of them dimmed, and Narisiel was able to get on with her life as a counsellor, as a wife, as a mother, and as a smith – but little did she know how those rings would stir the folds of history, more than a century after their creation…

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Amanaduial's post

SEE POST #134

[piosenniel]

Nice BIO, Aman!

~*~ Pio

[Durelin]

Absolutely gorgeous bio, Aman.

And I am happy to announce that another player has joined! I poked and prodded enough, it seems. ;) Please add Orofaniel as an Elf of Lindon.

Also, Arestevana will now be playing an Elf of Lorien.

[piosenniel]

Welcome aboard, Oro! :)

~*~ Pio

[Durelin]

My goodness, I'm really having a hard time getting my brain to work properly.

My apologies...the game will not be starting in SA 1693, but rather 1695. Unfortunately, that means that we will not be dealing with the hiding of the rings, but that really cannot be fit in. Rather, the game will begin with the following:

Sauron will have invaded Eriador
A council in Lindon will decide to send a contingent under Elrond's command to Ost-in-Edhil
Lorien will send a small contingent to Ost-in-Edhil to participate in the defense

shortly, this contingent will be met by the dwarves who will join up with them and lead them through Moria

'refugees' from the outlying lands of Eregion surrounding Ost-in-Edhil will be arriving at the city and the inhabitants will be preparing for battle, mustering forces
the baddies will not have entered the picture yet
(Note: if you'll notice, we must start the game in 1695 to be able to get things moving properly.)

At some point, we will be making a transition where we jump a period of time to get to the battle itself in 1697. We wil assume that the battle occured early in that year, and that we will be starting late in the year of 1695. A little over a year later, the battle will begin, but, of course, we will have to skip some of that. What I propose is this: an almost 'journal' style rush through time. We could begin with December of 1695, and then after a week, with a post from me, I suppose, the game would move to February of 1696, skipping every other month.

That could get really confusing, though. So, the simpler way is to simply say that we will spend about a month and a half (RL time) in 1695, and then jump to 1697. That jump would not land us in the battle immediately, but then there would be only a week or two (RL time) until the battle (unless of course we wanted to spend longer on the battle).

I hope that made sense.... and a question for all: more battle, or less battle? ;)

Confuzzedly yours,
-Durelin

P.S. - Sorry for the delay on my post. I'm working on the adjustments, and I think I'm almost done. Thanks.

[Firefoot]

So, the simpler way is to simply say that we will spend about a month and a half (RL time) in 1695, and then jump to 1697. So the baddies would be dormant in this first month and a half if we did it that way, right?

[Amanaduial the archer]

Firefoot makes a valid point - this would be rather unfortunate. No matter which of Durelin's two methods we use, the baddies are going to have a period of 'dormancy' at the beginning. However, I do much prefer the second idea:

we will spend about a month and a half (RL time) in 1695, and then jump to 1697. That jump would not land us in the battle immediately, but then there would be only a week or two (RL time) until the battle (unless of course we wanted to spend longer on the battle).
This idea has worked well in other RPGs (e.g. Shadow of the West (http://www.forum.barrowdowns.com/showthread.php?t=11357&page=1)), and is I think much preferable to the first suggestion, which could threaten to break the game up to be maybe a little too patchwork; plus, as a rush through time, it would probably end up concentrating solely on events and skimping on character interaction and development of characters and relationships, which would rather defeat the point of RPGing. Plus, as Durelin pointed out, it wouldn't half get confusing! I would therefore go for the second idea, certainly.

As to the answer to the big question, the ultimate question, the question that has indeed been plaguing generations of RPGers since the days of Ye Olde Freestyle Roome: heck, more battle! :) Yeah, I would say more rather than less battle - but maybe that's just me being trigger happy. Battle is always fun to play, and in this game, spending a larger proportion of time on the battle would mean the baddies were able to play in a larger proportion of the game, meaning no players are left scuffing their toes on the sidelines, so to speak. On the other hand, there are certainly more events happening before the actual battle begins, and as there are some non-fighting characters (*cough*Narisiel!*cough), having less battle is still certainly an option. The events before the battle could allow more character development and give the game more span and variety. So maybe this would be better.

Looking at the options, I'm happy either way I suppose - but maybe I would lean a little more towards 'less battle', for the reasons specified above. Thoughts of one and all?

[piosenniel]

I should think the Orcs could run their own little story line until Ost-in-Edhil is actually besieged.

War of the Elves and Sauron begins and the Three Rings are hidden: SA 1693; Eregion is invaded, Troops of Orcs make their way along the southern edge of the White Mountains - harassing the southwestern parts of Gondor.

By 1695 Sauron is intent upon putting Eriador under his dominion. Easterlings and Southrons are coming into Barad-dur. He has gathered the creatures of Morgoth into Mordor. The armies of Mordor are already sweeping westward and doing battle with any who stand in their way. Their final target will be Lindon.

The outlying areas of Eregion have already been under attack and those refugees are coming into Ost-in-Edhel.

I think the Orcs could run a story line perhaps describing the build up of troops in Mordor, their thoughts on Sauron who is now in residence in Barad-dur (how is he in comparison to their old boss - Morgoth, etc); what do they think of their immediate leaders; what do they think of the Men from the south and east who are joining him; etc. And then move out along the White Mountains heading for the Gap of Rohan and then north over Eregion and finally coming to Ost-in-edhel for the siege. There should be plenty of opportunity for them to be quite bloodthirsty.

Just a suggestion . . .

[Folwren]

I'm not an orc, but it sounds like a good suggestion to me. :D

As to more or less battle....I don't care much. But when you say battle, would that be one battle taking place on one day, or the entire seige/war thing that could last for sometime?

[Amanaduial the archer]

Also not an orc, but echoing Folwren's sentiment: sounds like a plan :)

Folwren - I think I would be right in saying it would be the whole invasion/attack on Eregion: the seige lasted a few years and wasn't so much battle. The battle Durelin was talking about would be the actual action that it all cummulated in.
If that made sense.
And wasn't too horribly misspelt.
*sigh*

[Firefoot]

Am an Orc, and it sounds like a plan to me, too. :)

[Durelin]

I said 'the baddies will not have entered the picture yet', didn't I? Well that was rather vague of me. And foolish.

Of course I'd want the baddies in there! I really am losing my mind... Sauron began his invasion of Eriador in 1693, so no matter when we started, the baddies would already be on the move. They'd be carrying themselves on their own mostly, but I know they are more than capable of that when I look at who I have as orc players.

Sounds like a plan, that incorperates all of the above. :D

Sorry for being rather absent-minded.

-Durelin

[Envinyatar]

Orofaniel

Welcome to the Lindon contingent!

I was wondering would you like to start off the Council meeting as your first post? Or shall I take a crack at it, and then you chime in . . .

Either way is fine with me.

- E -

[Orofaniel]

Hi everyone. :)

This will indeed be an interesting game. :) I'm looking forwards to it.


Envinyatar
I'm glad you asked. :) I see you have written your BIO. So if it's okay with you, I'd prefer if you started to write the first post about the council and the meeting; then I'll continue. I think it'll be more effective that way. You see, in the mean time I'll write my BIO. Then when I'm finished, hopefully your post too, will be finished.

Do you see my way of thinking? :-) I am, however, open for other suggestions.


Cheers,
Oro

[Envinyatar]

My pleasure, m'lady! Will have the post up probably by tomorrow evening.

- E -

[piosenniel]

Trying out my new avvie for the game.

Riv Stonecut, in black and white. :)

~*~ Pio

[Envinyatar]

My First Post is on board - here (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=396836&postcount=74).

Orofaniel

I've left room for you to be the Elf sitting to Ondomirë's left if you wish.

Just to let you know, I was reading through some discussions on how much the Elves knew of the making of the Rings of Power and the 3 Elven rings and the One Ring made by Sauron around the time they were made and in use. I've gone with the conclusion that it was not general knowledge at that time - Celebrimbor and the Elves who helped him make the Rings would know; Gil-galad, Cirdan, and Galadriel would know, since the 3 Rings were sent to them for safe-keeping. And I'm thinking that perhaps Elrond was let in on the secret maybe when Gil-galad received his Ring.

Once Elrond retreats to where he and the remnant of the Eregion Elves will establish Imladris, Gil-galad gives him Vilya. I'm fairly certain Gil-galad would not send Vilya with Elrond, fearing that it might be lost in the battle and fall into Sauron's hands.

Anyway - let me know if you'd like anything edited ( I will put your character's name in if you choose to be 'the Elf on the left'). I was wondering - would you like to lead the Elves whose main weapons are those tall spears (Gil-galad's weapon of choice (http://www.glyphweb.com/arda/s/spearofgilgalad.html).) Or the swords-men. Or do you fancy being a regular soldier in the army?

- E -

[piosenniel]

Alcarillo has asked to join the game - will most likely be the remaining male Elf of Eregion.

[piosenniel]

Here's the updated list of posters to this thread:

JUST CHECK THE FIRST POST TO THIS THREAD FOR THE UPDATES

[Arry]

Welcome, Alcarillo!

-----

And not to be out done by Pio, I'm trying out a Dwarf avatar m'self. :p

-- Arry

[Firefoot]

Soo... if we Orcs are going to be carrying ourselves along from the start, will we be needing to write First Posts now?

[Alcarillo]

Hi, I'll be the last male elf, and I'll get a character description up soon today.

[Arestevana]

Here's my Lorien Elf. :)



Character Description Form:

1.) Have you ever played in an RPG at the Barrow Downs? – YES

The Summons, Breelanders All, A Land to Call Their Own, Search for Rhûn

2.) How many RPG’s on the Barrow Downs are you currently involved in?

None


3.) Have you posted in The Green Dragon Inn – YES
_______________________________________

Arestevana's character

NAME: Gilduin Lindorion

AGE: 1,438

RACE: Elf (Noldor) of Lorien

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS : Gilduin bears the standard of the Lorien contingent. The oaken shaft is inlaid with silver and capped on either end by a silver spike. Gilduin also carries a longbow and a quiver of arrows. He keeps a long dirk sheathed on his right hip, but rarely uses it for fighting. The dirk is of his own making, a decorative weapon with a blade like that of a sword set into the wooden handle.

APPEARANCE: An even six feet in height, Gilduin has straight, golden hair which falls to his shoulders. He is slender and has the graceful strength common among elves. His eyes, dark grey, appear a lesson in contrast against his fair skin. He wears a loose, long-sleeved tunic of light grey, belted at the waist. He also sports leggings, stivali (light boots), and a half-cloak of the same color, with embroidery in silver on the neck and sleeves of the tunic and the hem of the cape. He wears a glove on his right hand (with which he bears the standard) but the fingers are open so as not to hinder his work.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Gilduin, though well over a thousand years in age, is younger than many elves. He has a tendency toward pride, and often feels an irrational sense of superiority around others, especially individuals of other races. However, this is rarely apparent, as he is by nature withdrawn. He is slow to give trust or friendship, though when he views someone as an equal he becomes a loyal companion. His pride does not equate to confidence, and under stress he often lapses into deep thought, taking no notice stimuli of the world around him. He is filled with deep regret for past decisions, but he hides it well. Gilduin was once skilled in the delicate working of metals. He made no large weapons, but occasionally created small knives, such as his dirk. With disuse this talent faded, and his strength is now in tracking and woodcraft. He is a fine shot with a long bow, but has little skill in melee combat. If needed, he has a fair hand at the quarter-staff, but his sword skill is lacking.

HISTORY: Gilduin has lived most of his life in Laurelindórinan. For many years, his greatest wish was to join the Elvensmiths at Ost-in-Edhil. However, he doubted his own skill, and his pride would not permit him to seek an apprenticeship there. He abandoned his craft and took up the bow, patrolling the borders of his homeland and withdrawing from life for long periods of time. His outward silence could not hide his inner restlessness and regret from his mentor, an elf in the service of the lady Galadriel. Unwilling to speak to his mentor or receive advice, Gilduin left Lindórinan and wandered for years in Greenwood the Great. Shortly after he returned home, a messenger came from Eregion requesting aid. Having known from years ago the elf given command of the contingent, Gilduin asked to join, and was assigned as standard-bearer.

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Arestevana's post


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[Durelin]

Soo... if we Orcs are going to be carrying ourselves along from the start, will we be needing to write First Posts now?
First posts from the Orcs aren't needed, simply because you guys don't need to get started really moving right off the bat. But, of course, if you have something in mind where you'd like to get an early start, by all means... ;)

Sorry about not having my first post done yet...life all of a sudden got a little crazy when I wasn't expecting it to. But, I'll have it done by Saturday at the latest.

Related to that, I unfortunately will be going away. I will be leaving on Sunday and returning Friday (the 15th). I will have internet access, but I just wanted to let everyone know that I'll be a little scarce. Sorry. :(

Thanks.

-Durelin

[Firefoot]

First posts from the Orcs aren't needed, simply because you guys don't need to get started really moving right off the bat. But, of course, if you have something in mind where you'd like to get an early start, by all means... No, I don't really have anything in mind. I just wondered if I should be thinking about it.

[Durelin]

Pio - I've edited my earlier post containing my bio and the prologue, so it now contains the revised prologue. Please let me know if there are any more adjustments needed. And I apologize again for taking so long in getting it up. Thanks!

Also, Nurumaiel will be playing the last female Elf of Eregion role.

Alcarillo - I'm so glad to have you!

Arestevana - Excellent bio! The standard bearer! Sounds like fun. ;)

Evinyatar - Wonderful post! I especially loved how your character pondered the choice of Elrond. And the descriptions are beautiful.

[piosenniel]

The RPG now has its full complement of players:

[piosenniel]

Dwarves

I should have my post up by late tonight. I'm still trying to sort out just what we should be doing and where we're at.

I'm thinking that we'll gather in the evening in the Stonecut halls. We've been asked by Celebrimbor to travel quickly to the eastern gates of Moria. The contingent of Lorien Elves will be meeting us there so that we might lead them in safety and in haste under the mountains to Eregion.

How does this sound?

~*~ Pio

[Folwren]

Your dwarves look really nice, Pio and Arry. If I can find a good one, I might join you.

[Firefoot]

Why don't you and the other Orcs decide who'd like to lead off with a post and then either wait for the game to open or you 3 go ahead and do First Posts to start your story line off - your choice; whatever is easiest for you. Okay. So, Encai, Kath, do either of you have a preference? I can see advantages either way. Also, Encai is the only one of us with a commanding Orc; so we have two options: a) Kath's and my Orcs are under Encai's Orc's command or b) they're in different garrisons. The former would make it easier for interactions between characters, I think. Thoughts?

[Alcarillo]

Hey everyone, I've finished by bio. This is my first RPG, so my bio probably isn't as great as Amanaduial's and others'. So, here it is, tell me what you think.

Character Description Form:

1.) Have you ever played in an RPG at the Barrow Downs? – YES/NO - Nope. This will be my first.

2.) How many RPG’s on the Barrow Downs are you currently involved in? None.

3.) Have you posted in The Green Dragon Inn – YES/NO - Yes, I have.
_______________________________________

Alcarillo's character

NAME: Cainenyo Nession

AGE: 1767

RACE: Elf of Eregion

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: Cainenyo uses an antique sword inherited from his father, who was a guard of one of Gondolin’s gates. Named Angereg, it is slightly curved and has a blue leather binding on its long hilt. Cainenyo also has a hunting bow made of yew. He normally hunts animals with it, but it is strong enough to kill orcs. He has no formal weapons training, but hunts regularly. Cainenyo feels that he is ready to fight if he must.

As for armor, Cainenyo usually wears a very polished breastplate, very polished vambraces, and very polished greaves, all of steel, and all made by himself. (Cainenyo is a blacksmith) Underneath it all he wears chain-mail, which extends down to his knees. On his head he wears a helmet with a green plume.

APPEARANCE: Cainenyo is tall, about six feet and two inches, and very strong, having worked at an anvil for most of his life. His hair is dark brown, and extends down to his shoulders in long locks. His eyes are steel grey, like the metals he works with. As for his garb Cainenyo likes to wear dark green, usually embroidered with elegant designs about the edges, and when working he wears a leather apron and gloves. During cooler weather Cainenyo likes to wear a long grey cloak, fastened with a dwarven brooch.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Cainenyo has a friendly, pleasant and open personality, and does not like to become angry at people. He is a loving husband and father, and would die for his family if needed. This love can turn to worry in troublesome times, and he can be over-protective.

In his business, Cainenyo likes to learn from others’ mistakes, which has helped elevate him to the status of an expert blacksmith. As for his own mistakes, Cainenyo often tries to hide them, and sometimes feels angry at himself for failing. He sees mistakes as failures at his expertise in smithy-work. When Cainenyo is saddened or angered he sees his wife, who consoles him and soothes his troubles. Sometimes Cainenyo can be suspicious of others, and often relies on mere intuition. This can make him unreliable when advice is needed.

He does not like to interfere in the affairs of the mighty and important. He just wants to lead a happy life and go on as a blacksmith.

HISTORY: Cainenyo was born in FA 511, right after the Fall of Gondolin. His father was a guard of Gondolin’s Gate of Writhen Iron and his mother was a seamstress. The entire family survived the destruction of the city and lived until the end of the age at the Havens of Sirion. It was during this time that Cainenyo learned most of his skills in smithy-work from Angandil, a survivor of Gondolin’s destruction who moved to Tol Eressea at the end of the age, and many lore-books his parents saved from Gondolin. Cainenyo’s love for metals was first in his heart until he met Alassante, a beautiful elf-maiden whose parents had both survived Gondolin. They fell in love and married. They were thinking of children when the War of Wrath occurred, postponing any plans of a family.

At the beginning of the Second Age they fled to Lindon, which Cainenyo’s family chose as their new home, but ships and the sea did not interest Cainenyo, so he and Alassante decided to follow Celebrimbor to Eregion, attracted by the knowledge of the dwarves and the many opportunities for a new life. Cainenyo has met many dwarves while living in Ost-in-Edhil, and learned much from them. His business as a blacksmith grew, and Cainenyo is considered one of the foremost experts in working with iron. Cainenyo’s son, Arenwino, was born in SA 1598, and is apprenticed to a silversmith across town. Cainenyo has already taught two apprentices, now on their own, and now he mostly makes iron trellises, candelabras, and other things to embellish the home. Lately though, he has been asked to make many swords and armor. Cainenyo has made a sword for his son. Alassante is currently pregnant with her second child, who she and Cainenyo hope to be a girl.

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Alcarillo's post

Cainenyo’s hammer struck a glowing rod of iron, casting sparks across his forge. He was as happy as could be while working; there was little he loved more than to create something usable out of what previously wasn’t. Cainenyo turned the long rod of iron over with tongs, and struck it some more, creating a shower of sparks. He plunged the rod in a bucket of water, throwing steam up into the air. After heating the rod to a warm glow in the furnace, set into the wall and where he heated his iron to make it malleable, he resumed striking the iron on the anvil, gradually forming a distinguishable shape out of it.

Cainenyo’s forge was open to the streets of Ost-in-Edhil, separated by only a few arches and two steps downwards. People could come and go as they pleased, purchasing wares and asking for specific items to be made. The forge itself was focused around the anvil, like the centerpiece of a table set for a feast. Cainenyo’s wares were spread about his forge. They lay displayed on tables and hanging to the walls, examples of the blacksmith’s skill. Cainenyo made things to beautify or serve a purpose in the home: trellises, small slender tables, candelabras, braziers, and elegant grills to cap drainage pipes. But Cainenyo could also make knives, swords, armor, arrowheads, spearheads, and other less domestic goods. Cainenyo, as an expert in iron, was not limited to what he could make.

Cainenyo continued to beat his rod of iron, manipulating it with heavy black tongs and crafting it into a delicate shape, resembling a long blade of grass. He was creating a knife, one to be used in self-defense against an attacker. He plunged it into his bucket of water and held it firmly in his hand, swinging it about for a moment and testing it against an imaginary orc. Cainenyo found the knife to be suitable, and placed it in an old chest near the furnace. He would perform the finishing touches tomorrow. The sun was beginning to set and he decided to finish for the day and enter the house to see his wife, Alassante.

Cainenyo wiped his gloves on his leather apron. Removing the gloves, he noticed a tall figure standing in one of the archways. It was his son, Arenwino, who was apprenticed to a silver-smith across the city. Arenwino was not quite as tall as his father, but more slender, with the wavy dark hair of his mother. He wore the gloves and apron of a silversmilth, and hoped to work with the Mírdain when his apprenticeship was finished.

“You’re back. How did today go?” Cainenyo asked his son.

“It was fine. Today Celebdur taught me more about making molds and such. We made some rings for an engaged couple.” Arenwino said, descending the steps into the forge. He looked about the strewn instruments and noticed the flaming furnace and asked, “Were you making something?”

“Yes, a knife.” Cainenyo answered, “There have been a lot more requests for weaponry these days.” He continued after a short pause, “That reminds me. I have a gift for you.”

Arenwino waited in anticipation as Cainenyo moved to a table to the side of his anvil. There he delicately picked up a long sword. Arenwino stood closer, gazing at the long, curved blade. The flames of the furnace danced on its smooth surface. It was handed to Arenwino, who held it admiringly.

“Thank you, Father,” he spoke, “But what is the occasion? I don’t deserve a sword like this one.”

“Well, there is no occasion, as of now,” Cainenyo answered, “But there may be. I hear of orcs harassing the edges of Eregion, and I don’t want my son to be caught without defense if he happens to be traveling abroad and is ambushed. And besides, who knows how far the orcs might come. What if they attack the city?”

“But surely they won’t. We have soldiers aplenty, and why would they attack Ost-in-Edhil?”

Cainenyo picked up the bucket of water. “Well, I’ve heard that that Annatar, who helped Celebrimbor create those rings, has turned against him. He’s sending orcs against us, or so I’ve heard from the refugees entering the city each day.” He doused the flames of the furnace, sending steam everywhere.

“Will you be asked to fight?” Arenwino looked concerned. The sun was now setting.

“I doubt that. I’m more useful staying here and making weapons and armor than going off to battle. But don’t worry. If I am asked to fight I’ve already made armor for myself and I have a sword. It’s getting late; let’s go inside.”

Cainenyo hung his apron on a peg by the door that led into his home and put away what tools were left laying about. They entered the home’s courtyard through an arched doorway. The courtyard was a small space mostly taken up by a square pool for collecting rainwater and a few bushes of fragrant flowers. They were greeted by Alassante, Cainenyo’s wife and Arenwino’s mother. She was pregnant, and the new child was due in four more months. Alassante’s wavy brown hair fluttered in a slight breeze coming through the open doorway. She wore a light, simple dress, comfortable and loose. She kissed both her son and husband, and led them towards the entrance to the house.

Then Alassante noticed the sword in Arenwino’s hands. “Where did you get that?” she asked.

“Father gave it to me,” said Arenwino, “He told me that orcs were crawling all over the edges of Eregion, and that refugees are coming to the city. He said that the orcs might come here, too, and that I shouldn’t be unarmed. Isn’t that true, Father?”

“It’s certainly a possibility,” Cainenyo said, and his wife frowned at him as they entered the house. Arenwino smiled, despite the future’s uncertainty.

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EDIT: Just setting your post up for transfer to the game thread. ~*~ Pio http://forum.barrowdowns.com/ubb/icons/icon13.gif

[piosenniel]

Dwarves --

Well, I've done my post - here (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=395602&postcount=35).

Let's have the Dwarves discuss what they've heard; when they want to leave to pick up the Lorien Elves; and how armed they should be and take what precautions, etc.

It's about 40 miles according to Gandalf from the West gate of Moria(the Eregion side) to the East-gate where the Mirrormere is and where the Elves from Lorien will enter. I have Riv's quarters about 10 miles from the West-gate - so we have @ 30 miles to traverse. Once we get there we should probably scout about the entrance to clear the area of any unwanted creatures. What do you think?

An aside thought: I doubt the Dwarves actually know about the 3 Rings made by the Elves. I'm sure they know about the gift of the Ring of Power given to their King (by Celebrimbor as recounted by the Dwarves, not Sauron), Durin III, but most likely don't have all the details. And knowing Dwarves, Durin III has no doubt squirreled it away somewhere in his private treasure hoard rather than wear it.

~*~ Pio

[Boromir88]

Wonderful first post Piosenniel, and those sound like good ideas to me.

I had a question as well, do you just want us to put our first postsin our bios, or in another post?

[Kath]

Has it been decided as to what is going on with the orcs? Do we need to make first posts?

[piosenniel]

Boromir88

Thanks!

Please put your First Post on your original BIO post. Then just leave a note for me that you've done so.

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Kath

The Orc writers have just started discussing what they want to do.

I suggested:

Why don't you and the other Orcs decide who'd like to lead off with a post and then either wait for the game to open or you 3 go ahead and do First Posts to start your story line off - your choice; whatever is easiest for you.

Then Firefoot wrote:

Okay. So, Encai, Kath, do either of you have a preference? I can see advantages either way. Also, Encai is the only one of us with a commanding Orc; so we have two options: a) Kath's and my Orcs are under Encai's Orc's command or b) they're in different garrisons. The former would make it easier for interactions between characters, I think. Thoughts?

So go ahead and state your preferences here on this thread - I suppose one of you should PM Encai to check into the thread, too.

~*~ Pio

[piosenniel]

ESGALLHUGWEN & ENCAITARE

Please clear out your PM's.

~*~ Piosenniel, Game Moderator


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Everyone

Here (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showthread.php?t=11990) is a link to the Discussion Thread I'm setting up for the game.

I'm transferring Bios & Posts to it, so it is an easy, uncluttered way to check on someone's character or on First Posts.

[Nurumaiel]

Questions having to do with the first posts...

First off, is there anything particular that the Elves of Eregion should be doing in the first post, especially concerning the females? Or might we be at our homes, or out taking a little stroll, or whatnot?

Secondly, I wonder where I might find out what kind of structures, foods, etc. were prevalent in this time and place, so I can be as decriptive as I care to be... or shall I just follow the general idea for Elves?

By the way, it will be a pleasure to play again with those of you I've encountered before, and I look forward to playing for the first time with those I'm not acquainted with. :)

[Firefoot]

Hm... according to the Member's List, Encai hasn't logged on for two weeks (25th of June), nor did she ever say anything about an absense in her recent posts. Might anyone know how to contact her...?

[piosenniel]

Firefoot

Enca's PM's are full and I don't have another way to contact her - so my suggestion is that you and Kath go ahead and make the plans for now, and her character can follow along when she returns.

~*~ Pio

[Arry]

I'm working on my post and will try to have it up by tomorrow sometime. I'll check in to see if Boro or Folwren have written theirs as I go along and try to fit mine in as needed.

-- Arry

[Nurumaiel]

Here's the bio for my character... I hope it isn't too sparse on the details! I'll put my first post up within the next few days.

________________

Character Description Form:

1.) Have you ever played in an RPG at the Barrow Downs? ? YES - The Long Winter, The Hobbit's Gift, Holiday in the Sun (an exceedingly small cameo role), In the Shadow of the Star, Corsairs and Corsets, Breelanders All!, The Hills of Evendim, Farmer in the Dale, Sailing Away

2.) How many RPG?s on the Barrow Downs are you currently involved in? 2

List them, please:

Shadow of the West (Rohan), and Friends of Nimrodel (Gondor)... both, I believe, are drawing to a close

3.) Have you posted in The Green Dragon Inn ? YES
_______________________________________

Nurumaiel's character

NAME: Erinlaer

AGE: an Elf age... say perhaps somewhere past one thousand

RACE: Elf of Eregion

GENDER: Female

WEAPONS: Erinlaer carries no weapon, and has never been trained to use a weapon, but no doubt she would be able to use one sufficiently if the need
arose.

APPEARANCE: Tall, slender, after the fashion of Elves. Long, dark, silky hair, again after the fashion of Elves. And, once more after the fashion of Elves, grey eyes and fair skin. She has a very light and graceful bearing, more than is usual for her people. She walks about in a way that is almost a dance, and seems constantly to have a sweet melody in her head that she must move with. The expression constantly on her face is very innocent and sweet, almost childish.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Erinlaer is not a dreamer in the strictest sense, but she does have a certain atmosphere of dreams about her. She views all the world in a rosy light, and she disbelieves the existence of evil, not as a willfull choice, but simply because the thought never occured to her. Her mother deplores her naiveness, and her father is delighted with her innocence.

She may constantly be found playing at her harp and humming. She seems to live in a world of light and song, which, though charming to new acquaintances, keeps her from what duties she might have, even the duty of being a joy and affectionate to her parents, though she loves them dearly.

Briefly, to some she is considered sweet, charming, and innocent, and to others she is considered absent-minded, excessively dreamy, and rather simple.

HISTORY: Erinlaer was born to a rather poetic father and a rather common-sense mother. Her father had been renowned for his skill at music and song, but though he was a good husband and father he had the capability of frustrating his wife with his inability at times to look gravely upon the hardness of life and set his hands to hard labour. Music and story was his delight, and he raised his daughter to have a great appreciation for it.

As she grew older her mother searched for and found one who would make a suitable husband for her... a fairly well-off, strong Elf who would appeal to her light-heartedness and innocence by his easy-coming laughter and nobility of heart and mind, but also one who would be a good provider for her by his lack of absent-mindedness. Heledharm himself fell deep in love with her, and she with him, and it was not long before they were wed.

It has not been many years now since their marriage, and they are quite content with their lives, she happy to wile away the hours playing upon her harp, and he more than content to overlook the occasional slips in the housekeeping for the sake of seeing the innocent joy shining in her eyes as she sings.

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Nurumaiel's post

Erinlaer touched a few strings on her harp and the beginning of a haunting tune drifted to her ears. Her eyes brightened keenly, and then softened and gazed absently off into the distance. She kicked her feet very gently back and forth, but aside from that she was motionless. In every respect she seemed to be entirely in another world, one that held nothing but the music she played.

A tall, smiling Elf entered the room and looked fondly at her. She did not even notice him, so he sat down to watch her. Very softly she began to hum, and then she sprang lightly to her feet and began to dance about the room in a very sweet, childlike way. It was not until she tripped on his foot that she became aware of his presence. Her face lit up and she laughed rather shamefacedly.

"I didn't see you, Heledharm," she said simply.

"I came to tell you that your mother intends to visit us," he said. "Your father, too, but this evening. He wants to hear you play and sing."

"And I wish the same of him," she said. "We shall have to play and sing together." She ran her fingers lightly over the well-crafted wood of her harp and smiled gently. "I still have much to learn from him," she said gravely. "He can decide what tune he would like to play and then play it. I can merely play according to what is in my heart and mind. I should learn to govern my music better."

"No, no!" cried Heledharm. "Play as you always have."

A radiant smile swept over her features. "Very well!" she said. "If you wish it."

He could not explain to her how much her music touched him. The quietness or the swell of her emotions translating easily into melody was, he felt, a rare gift, and he would not want her to unlearn it. The light, merry tunes as she skipped happily here and there... the tears that were spilled in music... and the times when she would sit by his side, playing a melody of peace and contentment, that turned to a sweet unswaying love when her eyes fixed on him. He would not have her unlearn that.

"When is mother coming?" she asked, setting her harp down upon the table. "I should be sure that everything is neat and well-ordered before she arrives." She bent down and inspected severely a little stain on the floor. "I fear very much that I've neglected the house these past few days," she said with a sigh. "I hope you have not been bothered much by it." She looked regretfully into his face, and then began to dance from the room. "Never mind!" she said. "In a few minutes everything will be set proper. Mother shan't find fault when she arrives."

And not too long after there was not much fault to be found, for she had danced hither and thither and, though she had gazed several times longingly at her harp, she had set her face grimly and dutifully cleaned house. And once again she was sitting atop the table, singing light and merry.

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[Kath]

I am happy to be under Encai since this is my first game and as I will have ti disappear off at some point it would likely be better that I was not the sole voice for a garrison.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Hey,

I should have my first post up this evening or tomorrow. Concerning the structure of Ost-in-Edhil: I can only find one diagram of the city's structure, but hope this is helpful maybe:

Ost-in-Edhil (http://www.stewardandking.net/ost-in-edhil.jpg)

[Durelin]

Sorry for not being around all day today...another trip to my grandmother's. But no excuses.

Aman - Thanks for the map! That's very helpful.

Pio - Absolutely wonderful post!

Nurumaiel - I love your character.

I sent Nuru a PM concerning her questions, but I'll also put this here.

I didn't have too much in particular in mind for the female roles except that it is possible that they (and their husbands, if they have them) could be among those who live outside the city and who would be arriving as refugees. Or, they could simply be city dwellers and be aiding in finding the refugees places to stay and such. Also, of course, it would probably arise that their husbands (again, if they have them) have been asked to take up some kind of military role.

Concerning that... At this point, I think that military action in Eregion will be consisting of small parties of troops that will be traveling to towns and settlements in the outlying lands surrounding Ost-in-Edhil, mainly finding survivors of orc attacks and possibly running into some raiding parties.

As Nuru said, "at our homes, or out taking a little stroll, or whatnot" works very well for the beginning, as I wanted to begin a little early (1695 rather than 1697) so that we can have a little time where the Elves aren't preparing for war or fighting in a battle, simply for some pleasant character development. The female roles give a very different perspective, a look at the more 'everyday life' of these Elves, particularly in a time where this race still reigned in Middle-earth with great cities and Kings. This is about to change, Eregion being the first to fall when facing Sauron's hatred of the Elves, furthering the race's diminishing from Middle-earth that began with the many Elves that went into the West neart the beginning of the Second Age. So, I think it is and important part of the story, to show that these Elves are a little different than the Elves seen in The Lord of the Rings simply because of the situation of their race at this point.

I hope that was more coherent than it seemed, and not as vague as it seems. Suggestions are welcome. :)
Sometime in the next few days I need everyone to check into the Planning Thread, to get a head count, as it seems a few people have gone MIA.

Those who I need to hear from either via PM or a post here are:

Gwydion
Sleepy Ranger
Esgallhugwen
Encaitare
Mithalwen (though we know she's been busy with werewolves :p )

If I do not hear from any of them, I will begin hunting down people to replace them. ;)

Thanks!

-Durelin

[Alcarillo]

Nurumaiel, as for your second question, here are my opinions.

I always imagined elven homes in the cities to be like ancient Roman houses: organized around a central courtyard, with lots of plants, maybe a fountain, tiled roofs, etc.

As for food, Tolkien made some Elvish names for: meat, bread, juice, honey, fruit, flour, oranges, edible roots, and corn (probably not the maize of North America).
Older sources give Elvish names for: soup, plums and cherries, berries, and cheese. So elves of that time seemed to have a varied diet. I was articularly surprised by seeing oranges. I thought that would have been to exotic, but I suppose there might be some orange trees in Gondor, or that some were brought from Valinor to be cultivated in Middle-Earth when the Noldor rebelled.

Just my ideas.

P.S. I will get my first post done as soon as possible, tonight probably.

[Durelin]

Thank you, Alcarillo! That was some marvellously useful information.

Okay, here's yet another question for everyone: At what pace do we want to go (ignoring the time-leap we'll be doing)? Should each week be a day, or should we cover more ground than that?

If we do each week as a day (day/night), then near the end of our month and a half stay in 1695, the Lorien contigent, along with the dwarves, should arrive. But I don't think we want to wait that long for them to arrive in the city. So, we'll either have to speed things up through making days shorter or skipping days. Or...there are other options.

I really sound like the game owner who's supposed to know what she's doing right now... :rolleyes:

[piosenniel]

Durelin

I took Garien LiLorian off your previous list - he thought he might lose internet access, so I padded the Dwarf contingent with an extra body anyway.

In answer to your PM - I'll go in and edit Riv's name in your post to his father's as needed. Let me just go see . . .

~*~ Pio

[piosenniel]

If it's alright with all - I'll put Aman's diagram for Ost-in-Edhil on with the other map link.

My thoughts on moving forward with the storyline ---

Let's not get too tied up with deadlines from the start. Can we see how the game flows along when we start it and then decide?

~*~ Pio

[Folwren]

Okay, so all that is going on is...we're writing our first posts and then waiting on Durelin? We have until next Friday? I'm so sorry, but I'm being by two days. Today, we were gone all day and when we got back, we learned that my older brother had gotten into an accident so I was at the hospital this evening. *sigh* However that is, I'm behind, but I've done my best to catch up. I just want to make sure that I've got everything right.

Pio, in my first post, do I start or continue the conversation that Riv just sat down to after saying goodnight to his wife and son? Or, if the others have done their posts yet, go along with them? Or do I re-write what you wrote in my own perspective...I am doubting that's what I'm doing...

And we're going to be discussing what we know of the whole situation and talking about the mission, if you will, that we're about to set off on. Is all that right?

And......I can't think of anything else. I'm exhaustedly tired. Please say anything that should be obvious but might not be, or that is essential that I know.

[Garen LiLorian]

Yes, well... looks like it's all been sorted out. Sorry I won't be able to join you guys, this game looks like really a lot of fun. But the only net access I'm going to have for a while is at the public library, so I just don't feel comfortable signing up for the time commitment of a new RP. Sorry again, and I'll keep reading with interest.

[Alcarillo]

I've just gotten my first post in. Tell me what you guys think of it. I've also changed a detail in my bio, just to let Piosenniel know.

[piosenniel]

Alcarillo

Well done post!

Thanks for alerting me to the changes on your Bio - I've replaced the old one I'd transferred to the Discussion Thread.

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Folwren

I hope your brother is feeling better! :eek:

Durelin won't be all that available this coming week - So I want to encourage players to get their Bios and Posts in by the 16th or 17th, so that when Durelin is back we can get the actual game going.

As to what you write -- that is up to you. If you feel like you want to, you can reflect on the scene I set with Riv and his wife and son. I left it open that your character was there playing his harp. You can pick up on that and run with it. Or you can just launch into a discussion of the expedition to pick up the Lorien elves. Let drop any gossip you've heard . . . just take the ball and run with it; let us see a little more of your character and how he feels and acts . . . that's what fun about RPG'ing.

Oh, and rest up . . . :)

~*~ Pio

[Amanaduial the archer]

My first post for the game...

~*~

Amanaduial's post

Seated gracefully on the banks of the river, Ost-in-Edhil spread it’s elegant almost lotus-shaped leaves out over the River Glanduin. Bordered on one side by mountains and surrounded by rivers on all others – the Glanduin and smaller Siranon, glancing off the larger river, the tributaries of Nin-in-Eilph, and the majestic Mitheithel – it sat harmlessly in the South of Eregion. In the capital of the ‘holly region’, all was hustle and bustle as always: the year was drawing on yet above the heads of the elven inhabitants the holly leaves still swung gently in the winds, and the sound of the elvensmiths in their forges, always, always sang out among their evergreen leaves. From a birdseye view, little could the eagles that circled regally overhead have guessed what busy little bees had been working on inside those forges – and what evil their creations would bring from over the mountains of Mordor…

As Maegisil was rushing hastily down the stairs of Celebrimbor’s regal dwelling from his master’s rooms on his master’s errand, one of the Lord of Eregion’s other advisors was also working hard, but far away from the finery of Celebrimbor’s rooms, where her lordship played games of strategy. Hers was another type of work indeed: the work that Ost-in-Edhil’s Mirdain were famous for.

The clang of Nerisiel’s hammer rang out again and again on the anvil, the flat-ended instrument chiming out almost musically. The elf took careful aim each time before she clashed iron against steel, but the force with which she smashed down her tool seemed to convey anger more than anything else. Eventually, her pale face glinting in the firelight of the forge, the elvensmith set her hammer down, with a pair of tongs, lifted the object of her attentions from the anvil; and after close inspection, she nodded slightly, her delicate features satisfied, and took the item over to her workbench. Setting the article – a new sword blade – carefully down on the bench, Nerisiel seated herself beside it, her feet curling up around the chair leg in an almost lady like manner that was somewhat contradicted by the loose, dark workman’s trousers that they were clad in, overlaid with the shin-length leather apron common to working smiths. Not that any who came to see the Master Smith would have commented on it – or not out loud anyway. After all, in Ost-in-Edhil, female smiths were not entirely uncommon – but for one to reach her standard of craftsmanship: that was.

Humming softly to herself, the elf studied the blade she had made closely, holding it almost delicately in the tongs although it had now cooled sufficiently to be touched. It was a commissioned blade from one of her husband’s colleagues, a Captain in Eregion’s army, as a gift for his son, and would therefore be rather more ornamental before she had finished with it. After all, her own blade, which hung proudly over her forge as an example of her work, was testimony to the fact that simply because a weapon is a tool of violence, it cannot also be a thing of beauty – and having known the boy to whom the sword would be bestowed since be was a small child no more than about ten summers, she intended to make this article just such. Nothing less would do for Nerisiel, for she was after all a jewel smith above all else. A profession which had come back recently to haunt her… The elf pursed her lips grimly and turned back to the task in hand. Yes, the blade would have to take another heating before the engravings that she planned were carved on it, but not too much: she could begin them today, it was not too late in the day…

“Who is that for?”

The voice came from the entrance to the forge and was one so familiar to the smith that it did not make her jump but instead prompted a smile on her pretty features. She turned, smiling, to face the young elf who leant with his arms nonchalantly crossed against the door post of her workshop, the leaves of the holly that was trained around her doorway lightly brushing hair as dark as his own. Her finest work of art: her son.

“It is for a friend of yours actually, Artamir – Leneslath, Captain Rimborien’s son. A gift from his parents, a reward for his recent promotion?” Artamir nodded, coming slowly forward into the dim of the forge, the light glinting mischievously in his eyes, lighter than those of his mother, as he examined the blade from behind his mother’s shoulder. She turned to watch her son proudly: he would be fifty summers this year and had truly grown into a beautiful young man, a son who both she and her husband were proud of.

Artamir smiled at his mother, stepping back slightly, and then nodded towards the beginnings of a hilt that lay further down the bench. “For the same?” When his mother nodded, Artamir raised his eyebrows. “Silver? Will you be using rubies with it?”

She smiled and shook her head. Although he was bound to be a soldier, as his father was, she was glad that her son nonetheless did not dismiss his mother’s art and had come to appreciate her craft – even to the point of knowing some of her designs. “Emerald. His previous sword was made of the same, Rimborien informs me, and besides, they will suit his nature more: he is a far less fierce young man than yourself, Artamir!” she chided teasingly.

“And where did I get such a trait, I wonder, mother? Not from my father I think…” the younger elf grinned and raised a sardonic eyebrow at his mother. “Am I then to have rubies?”

Nerisiel kept a straight face as she replied, “What makes you think you shall receive such gems in your sword, my son? Why, I had intended simply a plain design for you – nay, in fact, your current training sword shall do just fine, I shall model my design on that!” she teased, referring to the sword that Artamir used for sword training, a plain, blockish instrument that the smith’s trained elf regarded critically as the bare essentials – that is, it had a blade, a hilt, and not much else. Her son’s eyes widened – he still had the innocence of youth enough to be surprised – then he put on a mock sad face. “As you wish, mother…”

Nerisiel laughed and embraced her son fondly before sending him on his way out of her workshop – he had come by on his way home from training with a few of his friends, and he proudly informed her that Rimborien’s son – a boy no few years older than himself – had complimented him on his style. Nerisiel smiled at the doorway that her son had just left. Style, they said? And style his gift would most certainly have, once his coming of age was reached next summer – as Sirithlonnior, his father, would certainly have been able to tell him, had Nerisiel not sworn him to secrecy, for a light came into her eyes whenever she spoke of the sword’s details. The blade she made as her son’s first sword would be one of her finest weaponry creations yet…

Her finest creations yet…

Nerisiel sighed heavily and rubbed her tired eyes with the back of one hand. The thought of those rings, those finest of all pieces ever created, and her part in their making had returned more and more often to her mind of late. Pushing away the sword blade she had been working on, the smith walked across her workshop and stepped out into the street outside to behold the view from the city walls. Although she had the privilege to work for and with Celebrimbor in the innermost forges, she had not wishes to give up her own workshop at the East side of the city, for the memories it had of her earliest days with her mentor, and for the view it held over the Sirannon and the mountains to the East. Maybe this siting was no longer such an advantage: every day, Nerisiel was reminded of the darkness that was growing in the East, over those mountains in Mordor…

Sighing, the elvensmith returned to her desk and, after a slight hesitation, she put aside the soft cloth that she had her hand on with a mind to wrapping it up. No: she had people to see but what use would it be to brood on the dark thoughts on her mind? After all, Leneslath’s blade would not get done itself… Picking up the tongs again and resuming her humming as she tried to lighten her heart, Nerisiel returned to her forge to heat the blade – the engraving would be next. As her humming continued, the elvensmith’s heart lifted as she turned once again to the business in hand – weaponry, rather than those three, beautiful pieces of jewellery…

[Boromir88]

My post is also up...here (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=396535&postcount=65)

Fellow dwarf RPGer's I basically talked about what happened with Orin before and up to Riv's arrival. Poor, Orin, he's so lost....Folwren, or Arry, perhaps you can fill him in a bit?

[piosenniel]

Good post, Boro! I can tell Riv and his Uncle will have a fine time together whacking the filthy Orcs! :)

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Enjoyed reading your post, Aman - have moved it to the Discussion Thread.

~*~ Pio

[piosenniel]

ENCAITARE

Please clear out your PM's.

~*~ Piosenniel, Game Moderator


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Everyone

Here (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showthread.php?t=11990) is a link to the Discussion Thread I'm setting up for the game.

I'm transferring Bios & Posts to it, so it is an easy, uncluttered way to check on someone's character or on First Posts.

[Durelin]

Wonderful posts, everyone!

Let's not get too tied up with deadlines from the start. Can we see how the game flows along when we start it and then decide?
That sounds like a good idea. Getting ahead of myself, in my anxiety... :rolleyes:

;)

[piosenniel]

I've put Seth Cotton's name on the list for players.

S-C will hopefully be joining the game as an Elf of Lorien.

~*~ Pio


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Alcarillo

Nice avvie (Star of Fëanor)!

Now I can sscroll to your posts by your avatar and not have to look at names. Lazy me! :rolleyes:

~*~ Pio

[Folwren]

Okay, Pio, I just put up my first post. :)

Was going to say more, but, alas, I've got to be running.

-Folwren

[Seth Cotton]

Okay, here goes, my Lorien elf for this RPG: :rolleyes:

Character Description Form:

1.) Have you ever played in an RPG at the Barrow Downs? – NO

2.) How many RPG’s on the Barrow Downs are you currently involved in?

None


3.) Have you posted in The Green Dragon Inn – YES
_______________________________________

Seth Cotton's character

NAME: Vaele Andarion

AGE: 1,268

RACE: Elf of Lorien

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS : Vaele carries a fine, carved long bow which he is very accurate with. The bow as engraved runes and is of very good quality. It was a gift from his father and therefore means quite a lot to Vaele. He also has a short sword attached to his leather belt which he uses at times for more close combat.

APPEARANCE: A lithe and elegant elf and has blonde shoulderlong hair with thin plaits on the sides that stretches all the way down to his shoulders as well. His clothing that he bears seems rather simple, but it offers more protection than it seems to. He wears a woven shirt with wristpads, shoulderpads and a thin armourplate on the stomach. Due to his need of staying flexible at all times, his armour must not weight him down. He has a dark green woven robe that gives him a splendid camouflage in trees, and in forest terrain in general actually. The rest of his outfit is pretty standard, elven light boots and typical pants with no remarkable protection, as he after all is a marksman.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: A quite laid back and calm elf, even in the most pressured and hasty situations, he somehow remains cool when many others panic. He often says that his brain is more powerful than his bow when it comes to fighting in a war, and at times it seems hat he is right. He takes advantage of the situations, the terrain and things around him to do what he has to do. Either it is about defeating a foe or bypass obstacles in his way.

He has a lot of honour and pride, and he is definitely not an elf to insult. Because insults is something he doesn't take lightly. This pride is nothing that really shows on the calm surface of his, but it is noticeable when talks, always adressing people with respect which is a way for him to show that he is honourable, acts or is being insulted. At verbal confrontations he is very quick to reply to comments about him, still with a calm intention, but his way of keeping his pride on top is obvious.

HISTORY: Vaele lived peacefully in Lorien, being trained as a marksman with a clear talent for accuracy and speed with the bow. He has become more and more skillful over the years of training in the forest, practicing his silent movement and sharp hearing which appeared to prove useful to him later in his life. He longed to prove himself worthy after all the training he had went through, and one day his chance came. To aid Eregion at all means.

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Seth Cotton's post


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(Gee, I hope this will do... This is the first time I am doing this so... Well, tell me if I am doing anything wrong. Hehe.)

[Folwren]

That is exactly what I said, Master Cotton...this is also my first RPG.

Your bio looked good, though. :)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And I remembered I what I was meaning to say last time I posted.

I did a little talking for a couple other characters in my first post. Not very much and nothing to shape their character, I don't think, which is against the rules, I know, and I hope that it's alright. If it is not, then let me know and I'll change or take it out, or replace it with what the RPer would like. (I think I spoke for Skald and Orin - one line each...)

I hope that's alright. I'm guessing I won't be excommunicated or anything for it. ;) Just let me know.

-Folwren

[Boromir88]

Folwren, it's ok by me. The way I've understood it is it's ok to have a conversation it makes it easier to figure out what you're going to post. Just refrain from making remarks about other players characters unless if it's oked by the player in PM or on the Discussion thread. :)

Looks like a great post, Folwren, I look forward to get started.

[Firefoot]

Well, here are my thoughts concerning the Orcs... Kath, please chip in, and I hope Encai returns.

I think it might be easier if all three of us wrote individual first posts. I will probably be starting some kind of post tomorrow. I think it would also be best if Grimkul/Ulwakh and Olburz were under Glutkask's command - I will start writing as such, but make it an easy change if we end up deciding otherwise.

I've also been giving some thought to what Sauron's forces might be doing at the start of the RPG. After some research in both the Appendices and UT, I've concluded that about the most precise information we have is "Sauron invades Eriador." So in order to tie in while still doing 'our own thing,' I was thinking maybe we could stage a raid on some village somewhere in the vicinity of Eregion - since there are refugees coming into Ost-in-Edhil, they have to come from somewhere.

Thoughts?

[piosenniel]

Good bio, Seth! & Welcome to the game. :D

--------------

Folwren

Nice post!

I can't speak for Arry, but for my character, try to leave any conversations open for Riv to respond himself. Using what Riv's already said is certainly fine - but give me the chance to respond to anything your character says.

What Boro said is true - you can pre-arrange with another writer to carry his/her character in a scene or conversation. Otherwise, do it very minimally.

Just try to think of it as playing a game as a single character and not as writing a story where in some scenes you might handle several of the storyline characters.

~*~ Pio

[Esgallhugwen]

*Cough cough weeeeeeze*

Hi, *cough cough*, I'm incredibly sorry for being so stupidly sick, end my misery now *gah*. When it hits me it really hits me.

But I'm here now and sorry for the delay.



Character Description Form:

1.) Have you ever played in an RPG at the Barrow Downs? – Yes Which ones? The Hills of Evendim, Breelander's All!, Search for Rhûn, W,W &WT. I think that's all of them.

2.) How many RPG’s on the Barrow Downs are you currently involved in?

None


3.) Have you posted in The Green Dragon Inn – YES
_______________________________________

Esgallhugwen's Character

NAME: Fëaglin Lómë

AGE: 1, 587

RACE: Elf of Eregion

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS : A long sword, light yew longbow, elvish rope.


APPEARANCE: Usually has a stern contemplative look on his face. Which only adds more severity to his clear grey eyes that some say give off an odd glint of light. His long blonde hair is plaited along the sides in intricate if not eccentric braids to keep it out of his face. He is well built but thin and lithe enough to pass by unnoticed. His garb usually consists of the colours crimson and black (very eccentric indeed) of course he does wear a customary leather apron when doing his silver smith work.


PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Fëaglin has a cool and collected head on his shoudlers. He is a reliable and loyal friend with a cunning mind and a keen skill in silver craft. He hopes to someday be true to kind and noble deeds. But for all his good qualities he can be a bit of a loudmouth on rare occasions when he over indulges in the finer vineyards of wine housed in the cellar.



HISTORY: Having lived in Eregion for quite some time Fëaglin was accustomed to the peacefulness that came with it. He often spends his time deep in thought about his next venture in silver smithing, whether rings or ring mail he considers the designs with a tacticians grace. He has a sharp eye and deft fingers to detail and throughout his career has never missed an oppportunity to show his skill with a master's flourish. His father was somewhat of a military man and showed his young son the art of sword and bow in case they would be needed some day. His mother was a kind hearted soul always willing to give to others and often spent her time in the garden tending to flowers and singing with the birds.



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Esgallhgwen's post


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Hope it's alright.

[Arry]

Good posts, fellow Dwarves!

My post is up - here (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=396307&postcount=58). Skald has cut Riv off from answering Bror's question and spilled the results of some sleuthing he's done. He's not particularly happy at what he's learned.

The stakes for the Dwarves have gone up. Sauron is named.

I figured that while we might be a little out of the loop as far as knowing what exactly the bad guys are after; we should at least know who is the one sending the Orcs against the Eregion Elves and their allies.

[Kath]

I was thinking maybe we could stage a raid on some village somewhere in the vicinity of Eregion

This sounds like a good idea Firefoot, it should put us in an equal timeline with the others then. I had thought it would be a good idea also for us to be under Encai's command since her character is 'higher' than ours are.

[Folwren]

Good post, Arry. Wonderfully enlightening.

Alright, Pio, I'll keep what you said in mind for future posts.

[piosenniel]

Echoing Folwren - good post, Arry! Looking forward to playing this scene out in light of Skald's revelation.

----------

Folwren

I'm from the old style RPG'ing (actually many groups still play this way) - where you actually dress up and play the game in person over a series of months. That's why I prefer having total control over my characters and letting others control their reactions to mine. Makes the game fun and exciting when someone reacts in character and throws a sort of monkey wrench into the action.

[Mithalwen]

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Character Description Form:

1.) Have you ever played in an RPG at the Barrow Downs? – YES/Fall of the North
2.) How many RPG’s on the Barrow Downs are you currently involved in?

List them, please: One -Fall of the North

Please note you may play in only 2 (TWO) Shire games at one time. Exceptions to this may be made for this on a case by case basis by the Shire Moderators. (The Green Dragon Inn DOES NOT count as a game for this.)


3.) Have you posted in The Green Dragon Inn – YES/ Probably too much ;)
For your character please include:

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Mithalwen's character

NAME: Losrian Lindiel

AGE: Born 1645 SA So 50 (borderline adult in elf years) at the start of the action

RACE: Elf (Noldorin/Telerin)

GENDER: Female

WEAPONS : Good sharp knife, long bow (will acquire sword later)

APPEARANCE: Has reached what is likely to be full height of 6 Feet. Although of mainly Noldorin blood she has inherited the silver hair of her Telerin grandmother. She has the pale complexon and grey eyes of her people. As a craftsperson she cares deeply for the appearance of the things that she makes but has not yet developed any interest in her own appearance. She wears the clothes that are most practical for what she is doing and her long hair is usually pulled back into a loose and untidy plait. Generally looks quite scruffy especially by elvish standards.



PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Seems quite "difficult" stubborn and awkward but this masks a little suspected shyness and lack of confidence. Very determined and will usually find a way to acheive her ends. Very loyal and will usually do theght thing even if she grumbles about it. Basically a very young elf who has some growing up to do.

HISTORY:

Born in Lindon in to an unremarkable family she is the daughter of a carpenter / woodcarver and a musician. she is descended from refugees from Gondolin and Sirion. All though she has a fine singing voice (hence her "mother name" of Lindiel) her shyness has given her a horror of performing and to her mother's great disappointment she was determined to become a smith. Her reply to her mother's protests that women did not become smiths was that one of the greatest smiths in Eregion was a woman. As soon as Losrian had heard of Nerisiel it had been her ambition to be apprenticed to her and finally her parents relented. Her elder brother was already at Ost in Edhil, working as a carpenter like their father and while they grieved that both their children woujld be far away, at least the elder could keep an eye on the younger. In 1690, Losrian arrived in Eregion and had been delighted when she was accepted as an apprentice. Losrian is devoted to Nerisiel to the point almost of worship,and has shown a side of her personality that would surprise her family. In the forge and design rooms she is diligent, hardworking and eager to learn as much as possible as soon as possible. At home she resents the domestic duties that keep her from her craft.

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Mithalwen's post



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[Alcarillo]

Question: My character is a blacksmith, i.e. an iron-wright, so should he be called from now on an angdan? And Esgallhugwen's character is a silver-smith. Should he be called a celebdan? Or should we continue using the English names for these professions?

[Encaitare]

Hm... according to the Member's List, Encai hasn't logged on for two weeks (25th of June), nor did she ever say anything about an absense in her recent posts. Might anyone know how to contact her...?

Sorry, everyone, for not explaining my absence properly. I was at band camp (no jokes, please :rolleyes: ) for two weeks, and just got home today. I told Durelin I'd be gone for this duration, but I suppose she never mentioned it. Didn't mean to get everyone confused -- nor to agitate Pio! I'll make sure my PM box has plenty of room in it from now on. ;)

Alright, so shall Kath and Firefoot's characters be under Glutkask's command? I agree that seems to be the best way for us to interact. What do you say we start off in Mordor, going about our orkish business, as was suggested? We can have a little bit of backstory explaining relationships, opinions, and such. Later, we can move out. For a bit of pre-sacking action, might we obliterate a village or two?

I'll get to work on my first post and hopefully will have it up soon.

[Firefoot]

Nice to see you back, Encai. :) What do you say we start off in Mordor, going about our orkish business, as was suggested? We can have a little bit of backstory explaining relationships, opinions, and such. The only issue I'd be able to see with this is that we would be on a different time schedule than the others, since the journey between Mordor and Eriador would probably have to be skimmed over. This could get confusing, unless there was a similar time jump amongst the other groups. At least, I'm assuming that we're going to try and coordinate time? That is, a day in Eregion will occupy the same time as a day in Lindon, etc.?

A possible alternative for Orcs could be we start out in an army camp, probably somewhere in southern Eriador, say Enedwaith or Minhiriath.

[Folwren]

Okay, Piosennial, I'll do my best - letting others control their own characters. If I need someone to say something in order for me to continue a post, is it possible that I PM them? And I did alright with my first post, right? (That's how all this explaning started, me asking if I did alright...)

------------------------------------------------------------------

I like your character a lot, Mithalwen. :D

[Encaitare]

A possible alternative for Orcs could be we start out in an army camp, probably somewhere in southern Eriador, say Enedwaith or Minhiriath.

Works for me. How about Enedwaith, since it's further east, and the orcs would have been travelling from the east?

Question: on what side of the river is Ost-in-Edhil located? There's no compass on the map of the city given in post #123, but assuming that north is up, I guess it's on the northern bank? With a little bridge-thing to the northwest? I sense a battle plan forming.

Also, I am a little confused on the timing of the game. Here (http://www.forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=395748&postcount=4) in the Discussion thread, it says that we will be skipping or skimming over a period of a little more than a year. Invasion will begin late in 1695, and Eregion will be destroyed by early 1697. The game will begin with the prologue, covering up until 1692. Then, we'll start up in 1695.

It seems to me like a pretty broad span of time to cover. Durelin suggested two possibilities: skipping every other month and getting to the climax of the story that way (a "journal" style, as she called it), or skipping right to 1697 at the proper time. I think the second way is better, personally. It will let us set the stage and get in enough backstory at the beginning. We won't have to have "fillers" in the middle to take up all that time. Then we can get straight to the battle and climax.

What do you all think? The reason I'm wondering about all this is because I'm not sure where my character ought to be when I submit a first post, or even if a first post is necessary just yet.

[Alcarillo]

Question: on what side of the river is Ost-in-Edhil located? There's no compass on the map of the city given in post #123, but assuming that north is up, I guess it's on the northern bank? With a little bridge-thing to the northwest? I sense a battle plan forming.

The map is not oriented with north on top (I think), because the city is shown between the Rivers Sirannon (the smaller one to the left, with that bridge) and Glanduin (the big river to the right); on Piosenniel's (maybe I should call her Pio, like everyone else) map of Eregion, the Sirannon flows slightly south and the Glanduin slightly north, and their confluence makes an arrow pointing west. So west would be downwards, I think, east is upwards, north is to the left (Sirannon was the more northern of the rivers), and south is to the right. (Glanduin was the south river.)

Sorry if I overused commas and parentheses, there.

[Seth Cotton]

... It won't affect my activity here! I am going to Paris for the next 10 days now, and I am really sorry for telling you guys this so late. I will still be going to Internet Cafés every time I get the opportunity to do so, so I will still be around.

I hope you aint to annoyed by this, it still may be so that I will not be as active as when I am home since I can't always go to the internet cafés while I'm in Paris. ;)

I hope you'd understand.

-Seth

[Durelin]

I told Durelin I'd be gone for this duration, but I suppose she never mentioned it.
Oh I'm so sorry! I remember now, though of course I completely forgot before. I even saved the PM in which you told me of your absence, but...well, little good that did. I'm very sorry. And, about the jokes...I went to band camp too, just a couple years ago. :D

And, I'm very sorry for the confusion. First of all, a first post isn't needed from the *baddies*. Second, I think the second way is better, personally. It will let us set the stage and get in enough backstory at the beginning. We won't have to have "fillers" in the middle to take up all that time. Then we can get straight to the battle and climax.
This is what most people have agreed on...and I prefer it too.

And, as Pio said, we'll have to see how the game moves along to get any more specific with the passage of time in the game.

Seth - No problem. And, a very lovely bio. :)

Mithalwen - Also a lovely bio. Shall be an interesting character. ;)

Esgallhugwen - Wonderful bio. I hope you feel better!

At least, I'm assuming that we're going to try and coordinate time? That is, a day in Eregion will occupy the same time as a day in Lindon, etc.?
It would be nice if we could coordinate time. Of course, there's no good in being a stickler about this, but be basically on time with each other is a good idea.

And thanks for clearing directional stuff up, Alcarillo.

[Envinyatar]

I'm a little unclear when (what year) you expect Elrond and troops to show up in Ost-in-Edhil.

Is it this year that we're starting the game?

Either way, I don't see the feasibility of trying to match the timeflow in Lindon to that in Eregion. Most of the Lindon Elves time will now be spent getting from Lindon to Eregion - that can be accomplished in a few 'traveling-along' posts. So it seems to me, the Lindon Elves' time will be a little nebulous until we actually reach the Elven-smiths.

- E -

[Arry]

Folwren

Your post was fine with me. :)

[Encaitare]

And, I'm very sorry for the confusion. First of all, a first post isn't needed from the *baddies*.

Alrighty, then. Just let us know when we ought to enter the game, and we'll start obliterating small villages. *insert evil smilie here*

[piosenniel]

Had a PM from Gwydion - he will be gone from 7/15 to the start of August and without computer access.

He's planning to write a short first post for the opening of the game.

He says it's OK for the other Lorien Elves to carry his character as needed.

~*~ Pio

[Gwydion]

Check your PM's please.

Thanks!

~*~ Pio

[Durelin]

I'm a little unclear when (what year) you expect Elrond and troops to show up in Ost-in-Edhil.

Is it this year that we're starting the game?
Okey...here's a run-down.

Eriador is invaded and Elrond is sent to Eregion: 1695 SA

That is where we start. For the Elves of Lindon, this is when the council takes place, and the forces are prepared, and they begin the march.

For the Elves of Lorien, they will be preparing a force to leave. The dwarves will be doing the same, and then will meet the Elves of Lorien at the east gate of Moria to lead them through, and then the two groups will travel together to Ost-in-Edhil (when exactly in real time they will reach Ost-in-Edhil depends on how the game is moving). Once the Elves and Dwarves reach the city, they will join the forces that are being gathered from Eregion to garrison in Ost-in-Edhil, as well as helping to bring in refugees. Small groups might venture to take down Orc raiding parties...again, depends on how the game is moving along.

For the Elves of Eregion, they will be experiencing some changes. They will be mustering troops, they will be refugees coming from the lands outside Ost-in-Edhil in Eregion or they will be finding places for refugees to stay or they will be becoming soldiers if they are not already.

We're going to say that all of this takes place late in 1695 to keep things simple.

Depending on how the game moves along, we will make a *time jump*.

Eregion is destroyed and Celebrimbor is killed, Imladris is founded: SA 1697

We will go from setting up practically right to the action: preparing for the siege, and as soon as is convenient (again, all depends on how the game is moving), we begin the actual battle. This will all be occuring early in the year, again, to keep things simple.

The details of the battle will be dealt with before the battle starts, of course, but there is no need to do so now.

But, since Elrond and his forces obviously did not save Eregion from being destroyed, the Elves of Lindon will arrive in Ost-in-Edhil in 1697. With a reasonable size force and that many miles to travel, it isn't far-fetched for them to take many months to reach the city (leaving late in 1695 and arriving early in 1697). And, of course, it is likely that they will run into some small resistance before actually reaching the city.

The details of what exactly will occur concerning the arrival of the Lindon forces and the escape from Ost-in-Edhil will be dealt with when the time comes, as well.

Please let me know if you're confused about anything, if anything doesn't seem to work out (which is of course quite possible...in fact I almost expect it!), etc. Ask me questions on the thread or via PM.

Gwydion - Please check your PMs (in a few minutes).

[Envinyatar]

It is 500 miles at the most from Lindon to Eregion. At an extremely conservative march of 10 miles/day, it will only take about 2 months to arrive.

So, even if the Lindon force of 500 warriors sets out very late in the year 1695 -- they would surely arrive sometime in the first two months of 1696. I'm thinking they were not meant to be a last minute arrival rescue force, but were garrisoned in Ost-in-Edhil until Sauron's forces overwhelmed the city in 1697.

What do you think?

[Mithalwen]

Taht was my impression from the time frame, Envinyatar..

[CaptainofDespair]

Even at the pace you suggest, Envinyatar, let us take dark age/medieval marches into consideration, since Tolkien's works emanate from that rough time period. Historically, many of them take forever. But not because of distance necessarily. Most of this comes from the managing of supplies, the need to acquire travel, the mustering of troops, among other things. Also, we must consider that they would be traveling during the 'winter months', and most military operations do not take place in that time. Even elves would be wary of a winter march. Even under such dire circumstances, 'ancient' warriors would be unlikely to march in the winter, because it causes extra problems that often can't be dealt with in a timely manner.

So, I believe that setting out in late 1695 is both problematic, and unlikely. Under the circumstances, the beginning of spring for 1696, or possibly the fall of 1695, would be better. The weather is better suited to both marching and fighting, should it occur.

Just my thoughts...;)

[Folwren]

The Captain is probably right. Moving an army of that size, even if they are elves who don't necessarily eat a great amount or get sick very easily, would be extremely difficult. Depending on how big it is, you have to have enough food for all of them. They have to have all their weapons and armor, and then because they don't know how long the battle or war is going to take, they've got to have plans for the food and supplies to be continued while they're out there. Granted, all these problems could be figured out before hand and we could pretend we don't have to worry about it, but we have to consider the effort that it would take to move such a number of people.

[Envinyatar]

From Durelin's previous post:

But, since Elrond and his forces obviously did not save Eregion from being destroyed, the Elves of Lindon will arrive in Ost-in-Edhil in 1697. With a reasonable size force and that many miles to travel, it isn't far-fetched for them to take many months to reach the city (leaving late in 1695 and arriving early in 1697). And, of course, it is likely that they will run into some small resistance before actually reaching the city.

My point is, though, If the army of 500 Elves leaves in late 1695 (And 1695 is the date set by Tolkien for Elrond to be sent), surely it will not take them over a year to reach Eregion, which is what the arrival in early 1697 would mean.

However, if that is what you wish to do - then please let me know.

[Folwren]

Oh, goodness, no! It would take over a year for them to arrive! If it took armies that long to travel, then by the time Elrond was sent for, if the siege had already begun, the war would be over, and he'd arrive to a dead and black neighborhood! Well, maybe not quite to that extent...

I don't know anything about the times, dates, or when and where people were according to Tolkien or what (because, frankly, I know very little history), but I just wanted to say that it is difficult to move great forces and we have to keep that in mind...well, you, I guess, who ever is going to be writing it, or whoever knows the dates. :D

-Folwren

[Esgallhugwen]

Question: My character is a blacksmith, i.e. an iron-wright, so should he be called from now on an angdan? And Esgallhugwen's character is a silver-smith. Should he be called a celebdan? Or should we continue using the English names for these professions?

I think this is a good question and an interesting one at that, posted previously by Alcarillo, i'm not sure if it has been answered yet so I've decided to bring it up again.

[CaptainofDespair]

My point is, though, If the army of 500 Elves leaves in late 1695 (And 1695 is the date set by Tolkien for Elrond to be sent), surely it will not take them over a year to reach Eregion, which is what the arrival in early 1697 would mean.

However, if that is what you wish to do - then please let me know.

The Armies of the First Crusade took roughly a year to reach the Holy Land. So, it is possible. Any army, despite the size, will be slowed down to a crawl. There are far too many obstacles for everything to go over without a hitch. No march, no matter how well planned, runs into problems which slow it down. And, from what you are suggesting, there is very little planning involved, as that takes massive amounts of time. Thus, if we follow even your leisurely pace, it will be instantly doomed, and everyone would know it. Haste makes waste.

The Elves aren't military idiots, and would know better. And with the Council acting late in 1695, and with winter approaching, it would be extremely difficult to muster a force with the supplies and other necessities required, as well as start the march itself. The march itself, to avoid winter obstacles, would start as soon as spring begins, or possibly just prior. Before that, the scouting and supply gathering must be done, which is a feat unto itself, and takes many weeks, if not months to do. Also, the troops to be sent must be mustered, as I doubt they sit around like Clone Troopers waiting for orders.

Anyhow, to save you all from my rant, I will cut to the chase. A year or more is too long, though quite possible, dependent upon problems. The two month, arrive in early 1696 option is viable, but highly, highly unlikely...not to mention hasty, which leads to doom rather quickly. Thus, I suggest a middle road, of maybe 6 months, with the Elves leaving in early spring of 1696, possibly late winter, and arriving by the end of summer in 1696. Sauron’s siege, most likely having already begun, would not be difficult to breach from the rear, to enter the city and bolster the defenses. The force, being too small, could not lift the siege, but would provide the defensive ‘bonus’ capable of continuing a siege, as it would provide moral support, military support, and possibly extra food stuffs and weapons/armor to provide the defenders and inhabitants the ability to live on.

But, in the end, this is up to Durelin. :D

[Mithalwen]

But surely it is nowhere near as far from Hollin to Eregion as from England to the Holy Land and the feet of the elves are swift and tireless and they exist nicely on Lembas...... so they are not exact equivalent. Elf communities seem to exist more or less on fresh air generally ;). Also maybe there would be an advance party? Just thoughts....

[piosenniel]

Envinyatar

Please check your PM's

~*~ Pio :cool:

[CaptainofDespair]

But surely it is nowhere near as far from Hollin to Eregion as from England to the Holy Land and the feet of the elves are swift and tireless and they exist nicely on Lembas...... so they are not exact equivalent. Elf communities seem to exist more or less on fresh air generally ;). Also maybe there would be an advance party? Just thoughts....

However, you neglect one crucial factor. They may be tireless, but they are not immune to cold. Disease maybe, but not the elements themselves. Also, they are not going by themselves, in a little group. They may be swift of foot, but they aren't The Flash or Sonic the Hedgehog. They will also need to manage pack animals, or something of that nature, as I doubt they are so swift and light when weighed down by armor, weapons, and other material for war. Thus, the special qualities are the Elves are diminished and expunged from in this case, as they really do not pertain. Either the Elves wear everything they bring, and are slowed down, or they deal with pack animals, which get sick and weak and die. Either way, they can't leave Lindon until the spring, or they risk losing everything in the winter months. Once the leave, however, they must deal with the enemy, and the burden of the pack animals.

An advanced party would be slaughtered. Too few of them to contend with anything. If the greatest elf warriors can be slain by orcs, so can some 'nobody' elves. Orcs aren't stupid ya know, especially when led by a Maiar. :D

Oh, and I was not referencing England. I tend to use the Holy Roman Empire, because it is just better. ;)

[Envinyatar]

Thanks for all the input. I think I have it sorted out now, at least for my character.

Will follow the plan as referenced previously by Durelin.

- E -

[Mithalwen]

However, you neglect one crucial factor. They may be tireless, but they are not immune to cold. Disease maybe, but not the elements themselves. Also, they are not going by themselves, in a little group. They may be swift of foot, but they aren't The Flash or Sonic the Hedgehog. They will also need to manage pack animals, or something of that nature, as I doubt they are so swift and light when weighed down by armor, weapons, and other material for war. Thus, the special qualities are the Elves are diminished and expunged from in this case, as they really do not pertain. Either the Elves wear everything they bring, and are slowed down, or they deal with pack animals, which get sick and weak and die. Either way, they can't leave Lindon until the spring, or they risk losing everything in the winter months. Once the leave, however, they must deal with the enemy, and the burden of the pack animals.

An advanced party would be slaughtered. Too few of them to contend with anything. If the greatest elf warriors can be slain by orcs, so can some 'nobody' elves. Orcs aren't stupid ya know, especially when led by a Maiar. :D

Oh, and I was not referencing England. I tend to use the Holy Roman Empire, because it is just better. ;)

Well the fellowship of the ring set out in winter without so many problem and I have no idea who the Flash or Sonic the hedgehog are but I don't think I need to bwe patronised to that extent.

In fact I think Iwill withdraw from the game if this is the way it is going to be.

[CaptainofDespair]

Well the fellowship of the ring set out in winter without so many problem and I have no idea who the Flash or Sonic the hedgehog are but I don't think I need to bwe patronised to that extent.

In fact I think Iwill withdraw from the game if this is the way it is going to be.

First, I am not patronizing you. The Flash and Sonic are cartoon characters who run really, really fast. I am merely making the point that unless Elves can run like them, Elven speed does not take much effect. in a military setting, as the weight of armor and pack animals would slow it down regardless.

Second, the Fellowship started out with very little. This is a military campaign, and as such, there are certain 'excesses' that accompany it. When you are running a war, you don't send troops into the field with nothing. Thus, they must be accompanied by many, many things, most of which cannot withstand a great deal of cold or heat, and also move relatively slowly. Also note, the Fellowship wasn't wandering about in armor, and bearing a wagon train to carry its supplies. A military expedition has such things. As for the climate the Fellowship started out in, they practically had to, so as both to get an early jump on Sauron, and to cater to stealth. An army on the march cannot afford stealth, as it needs supplies and is often too large to live off the land for extended periods of time.

[Alcarillo]

Do you really think it would take such a long time for 500 soldiers to travel 500 miles? One way of settling this argument is to look at the chronology of the Second Age in Appendix B of LotR.

3434 The host of the Alliance crosses the Misty Mountains. Battle of Dagorlad and defeat of Sauron. Siege of Barad-Dûr begins.

The Last Alliance contained much more than 500 soldiers, and travelled about the same distance (from the Misty Muntains near Imladris to Dagorlad) that our elves must travel in under one year, with time to fight and defeat Sauron, too. Also, the Last Alliace was gaining soldiers as it was travelling, from Moria and Lorien. The Last Alliance undoubtedly had a baggage train, but it does not seem to have had much of an effect. Also, our elves will have roads to travel along for most of the way; the Last Alliance mostly moved through wilderness. I'm guessing that it would take a few months, maybe half a year, for the Elves of Lindon to reach Ost-in-Edhil. If they start early there's a high liklihood they'll arrive before the siege begins. The Elves of Lindon could also be mounted, adding speed. (see the subject of food, below, for more about horses.)

Also, not all of their Elven advantages would be hampered or completely hampered by armor. Armor can be made light or carried in carts. An advance party can always retreat before being seen by the enemy. Pack animals do not always die in winter. Elves can always drape blankets across their animals' backs, and winters are not always harsh. Yes, the strongest elf can be killed by a few orcs, but the orcs will not have penetrated so deep into Eregion by this time, only attacking southern villages and maybe moving along the mountains. The elves can, as I have said before, retreat from orcs. They have the advantage of sight, and can see orcs before the orcs see them. The elves could move in small units, making retreats and detours even easier.

As too the problem of food, I doubt that 500 soldiers won't be able to meet villages along the way. Also, because they are on the move, they won't stay in areas for too long before moving on. If the elves are mounted, their horses only need some grass to eat. Grass is everywhere!

To close, not all of the fates that have been described will befall our elves. Mithalwen, please don't leave because of some exaggerated remarks.

[Nurumaiel]

I put up my first post along with my bio (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=398135&postcount=121). I hope, Durelin, that you don't find it too short, lacking in detail, and etc. :D

To let you know, I'm leaving tomorrow for a camping trip and will be back on Tuesday the 19th.

Mithalwen, m'dearie, I was thrilled to think I was to be in a game with you... if you leave I shall make Falco Headstrong at the Green Dragon do something awful to you. :p :D

[CaptainofDespair]

Do you really think it would take such a long time for 500 soldiers to travel 500 miles? One way of settling this argument is to look at the chronology of the Second Age in Appendix B of LotR.



The Last Alliance contained much more than 500 soldiers, and travelled about the same distance (from the Misty Muntains near Imladris to Dagorlad) that our elves must travel in under one year, with time to fight and defeat Sauron, too. Also, the Last Alliace was gaining soldiers as it was travelling, from Moria and Lorien. The Last Alliance undoubtedly had a baggage train, but it does not seem to have had much of an effect. Also, our elves will have roads to travel along for most of the way; the Last Alliance mostly moved through wilderness. I'm guessing that it would take a few months, maybe half a year, for the Elves of Lindon to reach Ost-in-Edhil. If they start early there's a high liklihood they'll arrive before the siege begins. The Elves of Lindon could also be mounted, adding speed. (see the subject of food, below, for more about horses.)

Also, not all of their Elven advantages would be hampered or completely hampered by armor. Armor can be made light or carried in carts. An advance party can always retreat before being seen by the enemy. Pack animals do not always die in winter. Elves can always drape blankets across their animals' backs, and winters are not always harsh. Yes, the strongest elf can be killed by a few orcs, but the orcs will not have penetrated so deep into Eregion by this time, only attacking southern villages and maybe moving along the mountains. The elves can, as I have said before, retreat from orcs. They have the advantage of sight, and can see orcs before the orcs see them. The elves could move in small units, making retreats and detours even easier.

As too the problem of food, I doubt that 500 soldiers won't be able to meet villages along the way. Also, because they are on the move, they won't stay in areas for too long before moving on. If the elves are mounted, their horses only need some grass to eat. Grass is everywhere!

To close, not all of the fates that have been described will befall our elves. Mithalwen, please don't leave because of some exaggerated remarks.

The Last Alliance was moving in great haste, for such was the need. They had already done the preparations, ect. But, also note, The Elves and Men had already been fighting Sauron by the time of the Last Alliance, and with many allies in other regions, it would not be hard to find a quick route through, especially when on the heels of Sauron's retreat. In this case, however, Sauron is on the offensive, which makes a big difference, at least when it comes to military preparations. When your enemy is on the defensive, you have time to plan, and yet move in haste to catch them at their weakest. When on the offensive, you must plan as well, but you must be more thorough, for otherwise if you fail, you are doomed. Thus, haste is not the greatest course for a defender.

But, nevermind my rantings on such things. In any case, the whole thing matters not. Tis only a minute aspect. I just like to rant, a lot. ;)

[Alcarillo]

The Last Alliance was moving in great haste, for such was the need. They had already done the preparations, ect. But, also note, The Elves and Men had already been fighting Sauron by the time of the Last Alliance, and with many allies in other regions, it would not be hard to find a quick route through, especially when on the heels of Sauron's retreat. In this case, however, Sauron is on the offensive, which makes a big difference, at least when it comes to military preparations. When your enemy is on the defensive, you have time to plan, and yet move in haste to catch them at their weakest. When on the offensive, you must plan as well, but you must be more thorough, for otherwise if you fail, you are doomed. Thus, haste is not the greatest course for a defender.

But, nevermind my rantings on such things. In any case, the whole thing matters not. Tis only a minute aspect. I just like to rant, a lot. ;)

And our elves won't move as quickly as possible to Ost-in-Edhil? They don't know when or if the city will come under attack. I would move soldiers as quickly as possible in any unknown situation. After all, they don't receive messages from the city regularly. Have they not already prepared in Lindon? It may take a month or so to prepare, but I wouldn'y include this in the actual traveling time. The elves have no hostile enemies until they reach Eregion, and even then there are villages that would aid them. Also, Orcs would not attack during the day. This would provide a mostly unhindered journey. At night the elves would need to keep watch and some soldiers should be awake at all hours, but most major Orc forces are busy in southern Eregion, with their own agendas and plans and villages to terrify. The Orcs don't know that the elves are coming from Lindon. I'd say that four to five months is a good time frame. Six months if something goes awry.

[CaptainofDespair]

And our elves won't move as quickly as possible to Ost-in-Edhil? They don't know when or if the city will come under attack. I would move soldiers as quickly as possible in any unknown situation. After all, they don't receive messages from the city regularly. Have they not already prepared in Lindon? It may take a month or so to prepare, but I wouldn'y include this in the actual traveling time. The elves have no hostile enemies until they reach Eregion, and even then there are villages that would aid them. Also, Orcs would not attack during the day. This would provide a mostly unhindered journey. At night the elves would need to keep watch and some soldiers should be awake at all hours, but most major Orc forces are busy in southern Eregion, with their own agendas and plans and villages to terrify. The Orcs don't know that the elves are coming from Lindon. I'd say that four to five months is a good time frame. Six months if something goes awry.

There is a difference. The Last Alliance was already at war against Sauron. They moved with haste to beat Sauron, having already crippled him in Eriador. Our elven army is not necessarily at war, directly at least. It is still 'entering' the conflict. If the army was smart, it would move with caution, especially into an unknown situation. In some cases, Eregion might be considered a necessary casualty. The losses sad, but a force capable of withstanding Sauron is still needed, and thus the loss of Eregion is necessary to prevent further destruction. Though, that is hypothetical ;). That would mean the Elven army is a mere rescue force, to pick up the survivors.

Also, who said Sauron only sent orcs to destroy Eregion? He does have the Easterling tribes to force into service. Not a lot, and maybe unlikely, but they could be there, as pure NPCs to harry the army. :D

[Durelin]

In fact I think Iwill withdraw from the game if this is the way it is going to be.Ummm...Well, I'm sorry...

It's just another time issue, and we can work it out however everyone thinks it should be worked out. I'm not a military genius, and I am not at all an organized person, and I have no sense of time. But, this is the kind of discussion (well, mostly...I was thinking more discussion than arguing, but...) that I wanted. I need help with these sorts of things; I'm not at all too full of myself to say that I do. Perhaps that is asking too much, asking for help, but it isn't just my game: the game belongs to everyone who is taking part in it.

So if you think it proper for the Elves of Lindon to arrive much earlier, that is fine with me. If you want them to depart from Lindon later, that's fine with me too.

It's all up to everyone here...and it disturbs me to find that everyone seems to be quite offended or something...this is just discussion, and this is just a game. Please...I beg of you that you take it a little more lightly.

And all you have to do is let me know if you want me to adjust something. I expect there to be problems with what I come up with, so it's as simple as just letting me know that.

Thank you, and sorry for my absence...I'll be back to more regular posting very soon.

-Durelin

[Alcarillo]

Okay, how much time does everybody think the elves of Lindon should take? CaptainofDespair is pushing for caution, and I think that haste is best. Perhaps cautious haste is best, or hasty caution. I say four to five months. What does everybody else say and think? Let's not let this become a two-person shooting match.

[Durelin]

Sounds quite reasonable.

Who's shooting?

:)

[Firefoot]

4-5 months all told (i.e., including mustering of troops, supplies, the journey itself), sounds reasonable to me. Provided the army goes at about 10-20 miles per day, the journey itself should only take 1-2 months, maybe a little more.

I mean, think about it. Frodo got from Hobbiton to Rivendell (almost 500 mi.) in about a month, and he was injured half the time and almost never actually took the road. Even though there are a lot more people in this army, they will be taking the road and will be in good health, I'm assuming. I don't see how the journey itself can take more than 2 months, maybe a little more if there are any serious mishaps.

[piosenniel]

Let me chime in here with what Tolkien says about Elrond's rescue party for Eregion. I've already shared this with Envinyatar.

Elrond is chosen to aid the Elvensmiths in 1695. For what ever reasons, it will take the Lindon Elves until 1697 to come near Eregion. Sauron sends his troops against them and they are unable to enter Eregion at all, despite the additional aid they receive from a group of Lorien Elves led by Celeborn. Eregion is destroyed, Ost-in-Edhil in ruins.

Elrond and Celeborn's troops are nearly destroyed by Sauron and company - when King Durin III of Moria sends some Dwarven troops along with another group of Lorien Elves against Sauron's troops from the rear.

Sauron's army turns its focus on the Dwarves and Lorien Elves, driving them back to Moria - the West-gate, which faces Eregion, is then shut tightly against Sauron's troops and none can enter.

Elrond takes advantage of the changed focus of the enemy and with what remains of his men, along with some refugees from Eregion that he picks up along the way, he retreast northeast to the hidden valley where he will establish Imladris.

Sauron, in the meantime, sweeps east over Eriador, heading toward Lindon.

----------------

So ----

- the Elves from Lindon will not enter Ost-in-Edhil and fight alongside the Elvensmiths

- the Dwarves and Elves of Lorien, however, can certainly join in the battle alongside the Elves of Eregion

[Orofaniel]

So, here is my (lameass) character - finally... :)

*****


Character Description Form:

1.) Have you ever played in an RPG at the Barrow Downs? – YES - Which one? Hunt of the Dragon, Flight from Rohan, Corsairs and Corsets, Setting sails for Valinor, Breelanders All!, Hunted, Last Hope for Moria, Bloodstained Elanor, Hunt for the Palantiri and..er..(Shadow of the West)

2.) How many RPG’s on the Barrow Downs are you currently involved in?

None.

3.) Have you posted in The Green Dragon Inn? – Yep- a long time a ago..;)

*****************


Orofaniel's character

NAME: Geldion (Gel-dhi-on)

AGE: 1095

RACE: Noldor elf.

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: Geldion is highly skilled with his sword, and it has always been his weapon of choice. His sword was given to him by his brother. At a glance, this sword looks like an ordinary sword, but the blade is much sharper and much lighter than one would think in the first place. If needed, Geldion has proved well with both spears and bow.

APPEARANCE: Tall and slim, like most elves. He has greyish eyes, and they are rather small in his somewhat round face. He has some rather strong features; long and somewhat rare nose, and strong- but not bushy eyebrows. His hair is often worn in a plait. In battles he wears a light armour, helmet, daggers, and of course his sword. He usually wears soft, light tunics with silver embroidery.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: An ordinary elf, but perhaps more skilled in battle strategies and tactics than most. This has not been a natural thing for him, rather a knowledge that has grown with him over the years. He has observed, watched and learned from his superior(s), especially the King and his closest followers – whom Geldion owns much respect. He has, because of this, grown to be a reliable and a loyal advisor.

Geldion is easily attached to people for better or worse. He is likeable and respected amongst his fellow elves.

Geldion likes to have big responsibilities and most of the time he carries them out with great success. He does not like the thought of defeat, or failure of any kind, and is therefore very careful when facing difficult or challenging decisions and so forth. He prefers to have some sort of control over the current situation and be updated on recent events. He is in many ways just an advisor, but he also has a great impact on those who carry out the plans. Therefore in many ways he is some sort of a leader type. Although he has never really led any sort of armies, he knows exactly which tactics that has to be used, and how they should carry out the mission. Although since this is still new to him, one cannot guarantee he won't meet some minor, or bigger, defeats. He is however, a person with strong confident in what he does, and does not easily give up. He is after all, a warrior.

HSTORY: Geldion joined Gil-Galad when he received the kingship of the Noldor. And followed him until Gil-Galad established Lindon, where Geldion also settled. Geldion is a loyal follower of his High King, and has been so ever since Gil-Galad received the kingship of the Noldor.

Most of his family were lost to him during the Great Battle. His brother mourned and was lost shortly after, leaving his sword behind, for Geldion to use.

Geldion is a close friend to Ondomirë. They met each other in Lindon when Gil-Galad established it. Both of them are to this day humble servants and loyal to The King. Geldion has therefore, much like his friend, volunteered to be captain for the swordsmen.



******

Orofaniel's post


‘Best we give the stripling all the support we can, don’t you think?’ he said quietly as he sat back down.

"Ondomirë, you know better, age and wisdom are not automatically connected," Geldion said under his breath, smiling at the elf, who had just gotten up from his seat to volunteer to lead the archers in the upcoming battle.

It was Geldion turn to get up. "My friend here Ondomire," Geldion started, looking back at the elf, "has just volunteered to lead one of the division," Geldion then said. "Aye, it will be the archers," Ondomirë confirmed. "It would be my honour, my King, if I could lead the division with the swordsmen," Geldion said.

The King looked at him. He didn't look surprised, but curious, or even - in wonder. Why would he volunteer for that, an elf who had not experience whatsoever with leading any force or sort of armies at all? "I know what The King must be thinking. I have not leaded any divisions before. I am merely a humble advisor. I am nevertheless, a warrior as well. I'm highly skilled with the sword, and therefore I would be honoured if the King would grant me the division of swordsmen,” Geldion finished. But just as the words and sentences had slipped from his tongue, he felt as though if he regretted it; this was no place for him. He was not able to lead soldiers into war. It didn’t suit him. He couldn’t do it; he was after all just an advisor. Tactics and strategies was his main field. He was however, a good warrior in combats. He admitted not to be as talented with the spears as with as swords though.

His thoughts circulated for a few seconds, before he opened his mouth again; “It is a task of great responsibility and it is perhaps too much for me to undertake at this point. Thus, I understand if the council wishes me to withdraw and come as a soldier only. Either way, I will do as you command, my King." He straightened his back, not looking the King in the eyes. He found himself trying to avoid the eyes of the elves present at the meeting.

The elves said naught for a couple of moments. All seemed to be in deep thought. Elrond had turned away from the map, and was now looking at Gil -Galad

"I think it only fair that you shall be the captain of the swordsmen," and elf said, but not clear or loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Indeed," another elf whispered. "You have served me well over the years," the King said. "You shall therefore lead the swordsman, but remember not only to use your skills when in battle, but also when preparing for it. You shall go not only as a Captain, but also as an advisor. Remember that," Gil-Galad said quietly. A feeling of great sensation of joy and relief reached Geldion's body and mind as the King spoke. Maybe he had been too critical towards his own abilities. Perhaps he was the right man for this task after all. The king, the man Geldion respected the most, showed confidence in him by giving him the swordsmen division, and thus Geldion promised himself not to fail or be defeated.

"Thank you, my King. I will not fail," he said and thanked the elves altogether, as he bowed. "Let us hope so," Ondomirë said, smiling at him as Geldion seated again.


*************

Edited if needed of course!

Cheers,
Orofaniel

[Durelin]

Thank you, Pio, for both varifying the source I used (of which I was uncertain of the validity...), and giving me some more details that I was unaware of. I do need to learn to do better research. :rolleyes:

How does it sound to everyone if we went with the Lindon troops being forced to wait until the end of winter? Then we won't have any unreasonably long marches and such. Is it alright if the issue of winter arriving is covered in the council? (I don't mean in any of the first posts...there'll be plenty of time for more council)

Nurumaiel - Beautiful post. I absolutely adore your character!

Orofaniel - Your bio and post are excellent! 'Lameass'? Bull hoggery! :p

[Folwren]

So have people established the time period of the elves march to be 4-5 months?

I am fine with whatever, of course, but I'm actually wondering what made it such an argument. I mean...is anyone even RPing the elves coming with Elrond? Are those the Noldor elves? Or have I just proved myself an imbecile by asking? :rolleyes:

I have been wondering about how far people think we are from beginning? The first posts are getting me excited. :D

[Envinyatar]

The Elves coming with Elrond are the three gamers who are the Elves of Lindon.

It was my misunderstanding that Elrond's troops would actually reach Ost-in-Edhil and fight alongside the Elven-smiths and Dwarves. I thought we might play along with the others who are defending Ost-in-Edhil; that's why I originally wanted to get there earlier.

As Pio pointed out, we will not be doing that - ours will be more of a side game. By the time we reach Eregion, Sauron will have nearly destroyed the Elven-smiths' cities and we will be repulsed by his troops and flee north.

It really doesn't matter now how long the march will take - the Lindon Elf gamers can accomplish their part of the story line with a limited number of posts if necessary in order to get to the point where Eregion is overrun and we arrive too late.


- E -

[Durelin]

*** THIS IS THE LAST POST FOR THE PLANNING THREAD ***

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I'm very sorry for the misunderstanding, Evinyatar. I should have better explained the situation to you from the beginning. Please forgive me.

If the Lorien Elves need help with their first posts, please feel free to PM me about it. I know there isn't much to go on concerning their situation, but Arestevana and I agreed that we should begin with their making preparations to depart Lorien. You can put as little or as much as you wish in your first posts concerning this.

Still need to hear from Sleepy Ranger.

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NOTE FROM PIO:

This Planning Thread is now closed to posting.

SLEEPY RANGER Please put your revised BIO and First Post on the game Discussion Thread

ESGALLHUGWEN, MITHALWEN(if you're still playing), GWYDION, SETH COTTON, ARESTEVANA please put your First Posts on the game Discussion Thread.

[piosenniel]

*** THIS IS THE FIRST POST FOR THE IN-PLAY RPG DISCUSSION THREAD ***


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Basic Storyline:

Sauron has invaded Eriador, and laid siege to the city of Ost-in-Edhil, the greatest city of Eregion. The Noldor who dwelt there in friendship with the Dwarves of Khazad-dûm were forced to garrison in Ost-in-Edhil and endure the assailment with help from the Dwarves and the Elves from Lorien, knowing they would not be able to hold out against the forces of Sauron.

Gil-galad sent Elrond with aid from Lindon, but it is a long time before they reach Eregion. The Elves of Eregion are waiting for some kind of relief from Elrond and his forces, though only so that some of their people may escape.

The game may open with some background RP'ing to set the immediate historical background for the game.

[piosenniel]

Story Background:

1.) History

When the Blue Mountains broke apart and the Dwarf-city of Nogrod collapsed, Dwarves escaped to lesser dwellings, and eventually many went east to Moria, and arrived there around SA 40.

Early in the Second Age, most of the Noldor and many of the Sindar went West, establishing the new city of Avallónë on Tol Eressëa. Many of the Sindar that remained in Middle-earth went east and joined the Silvan Elves in their scattered woodland dwellings.

The Noldor moved to the land west of the Ered Luin, which had once been known as Lindon. After the Gulf of Lhûn was formed, the two portions of Lindon were named Forlindon (North Lindon), in which Gil-galad ruled; and Harlindon (South Lindon), in which Círdan ruled.

Celebrimbor moved from Lindon east into Eriador with many Noldor, reaching Eregion (Hollin), and founding Ost-in-Edhil. Close friendship grew between the Dwarves in Moria and the Noldor of Eregion until the War of the Elves and Sauron.

When Sauron established his dwelling in Mordor because of his fear of the growing power of the Númenóreans and their increasing presence in Middle-earth, he began to seek after the elves. He was refused entrance by Gil-galad into Lindon, but was received by the Elven-smiths at Eregion, where the rings of power were begun around SA 1500. Celebrimbor created the three greatest rings (Narya, Nenya, and Vilya) alone, finishing them in SA 1590. Around SA 1600, Sauron forged the Master Ring, but his deceptions were revealed and the War of the Elves and Sauron began.

Sauron invaded Eriador and attacked Eregion in SA 1695, and though Elrond was sent to aid the elves in Ost-in-Edhil, Eregion was destroyed, with Celebrimbor killed, before he reached it in 1697. The Dwarves of Khazad-dûm and the Silvan Elves of Lórinand (Lorien) aided Elrond’s forces in fending off Sauron’s forces, but they were forced to retreat, and the gates of Moria were shut.

Elrond went north, escaping with the remaining Noldor, and built Imladris. But by SA 1699, Sauron had overrun Eriador, and Rivendell (Imladris) was besieged, Sauron declaring himself “Lord of the Earth”. Númenor came to the aid of Middle-earth, a huge fleet sent by Tar-Minastir joined forces with the elves at Lindon to drive Sauron out of Eriador.

Concerning Moria: When Morgoth was thrust through the Door of Night, his few creatures that survived his destruction scattered. Among these was the only Balrog mentioned in later times: the one who escaped to Moria, and was discovered there by the dwarves in the Third Age.

2.) Geography

Eregion was located between the Glanduin and Bruinen Rivers in Southeastern Eriador to the west of the Misty Mountains near the West gate of Moria. Many holly trees grew there, its name meaning “holly-region” in Sindar. Imladris is located north and slightly east of Eregion, in a hidden valley just outside the north east corner of the Angle (the land between the Mitheithel and the Bruinen) amidst estuaries of the River Bruinen, also known as the Loudwater.

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MAP of game area (http://www.yesalbum.com/v001/Durelin/map2.jpg)

Ost-in-Edhil (http://www.stewardandking.net/ost-in-edhil.jpg)

[piosenniel]

Important Dates


Foundation of Eregion: SA 750


Three Rings completed in Eregion: c. SA 1590


Sauron forges One Ring: c. SA 1600


War of the Elves and Sauron begins and the Three Rings are hidden: SA 1693


Eriador is invaded and Elrond is sent to Eregion: 1695 SA


Eregion is destroyed and Celebrimbor is killed, Imladris is founded: SA 1697


Sauron overruns Eriador: SA 1699


Tar-Minastir sends a great navy from Numenor to Lindon, Sauron is defeated: SA 1700


Sauron is driven out of Eriador: SA 1701

[piosenniel]

Timeframes:

This game takes place in the Second Age around the year 1695.

The storyline itself or plot covers: possible gaming of events leading up to the war between Sauron and the Elves of Eregion + the weeks during which the city of Ost-in-Edhil was besieged and destroyed.

Further note about timeframe for game from Durelin:

The game will not be starting in SA 1693, but rather 1695. Unfortunately, that means that we will not be dealing with the hiding of the rings, but that really cannot be fit in. Rather, the game will begin with the following:

Sauron will have invaded Eriador
A council in Lindon will decide to send a contingent under Elrond's command to Ost-in-Edhil
Lorien will send a small contingent to Ost-in-Edhil to participate in the defense

shortly, this contingent will be met by the dwarves who will join up with them and lead them through Moria

'refugees' from the outlying lands of Eregion surrounding Ost-in-Edhil will be arriving at the city and the inhabitants will be preparing for battle, mustering forces
the baddies will not have entered the picture yet
(Note: if you'll notice, we must start the game in 1695 to be able to get things moving properly.)

At some point, we will be making a transition where we jump a period of time to get to the battle itself in 1697. We wil assume that the battle occured early in that year, and that we will be starting late in the year of 1695. A little over a year later, the battle will begin, but, of course, we will have to skip some of that. What I propose is this: an almost 'journal' style rush through time. We could begin with December of 1695, and then after a week, with a post from me, I suppose, the game would move to February of 1696, skipping every other month.

That could get really confusing, though. So, the simpler way is to simply say that we will spend about a month and a half (RL time) in 1695, and then jump to 1697. That jump would not land us in the battle immediately, but then there would be only a week or two (RL time) until the battle (unless of course we wanted to spend longer on the battle).

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PLEASE NOTE:

This game requires a time commitment of 2 1/2 months from me, the game owner, and from the major players.

Depending upon ongoing interest in plot development, the game may extend beyond the 2 1/2 months, so that the storyline can reach a suitable conclusion, agreeable to the Owner and the other gamers.

[piosenniel]

Elves of Eregion


Durelin's character

NAME: Maegisil

AGE: 1552 at the time of the forging of the Rings, 1655 at the beginning of the War of the Elves and Sauron

RACE: Elf, dwelling in Ost-in-Edhil in Eregion

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: Maegisil carries a long, slender elvish blade that he crafted himself, forging the blade from mithril gifted to him by his master Celebrimbor, and using wood from the mallorn, among the material traded from Lórinand. When in battle, he carries a large war shield bearing the crest of his lord, an emblem that Celebrimbor had designed himself, refusing to bear the Dispossessed of the House of Fëanor, as he had renounced the deeds of his house following the death of Finrod, caused by the many effects of the Oath of Fëanor, and only he remained of that house by the Second Age. Maegisil carries the sign of his lord in great respect and admiration, feeling it a part of his duty.

APPEARANCE: Maegisil stands quite tall, even for his people, at about 6’5”. He is not at all heavily built, but has notable muscles in his legs and arms, as a fine swordsman. He has a very agile and supple body, and is quick on his feet. His hair quite dark, nearing black, and is kept to fall only a few inches below his shoulders. He has grey eyes with a tint of green to them that can make his eyes look completely green if he is wearing a green tunic or the like. His face is a slender oval; his nose is perhaps slightly on the large side, but fitting his face; his lips thin; his chin rather prominent, and his ears rather small and, of course, pointed. (And though his ears are small, he has excellent hearing.)

Maegisil usually wears a shirt of a light, misty grey color under a tunic a dark blue that hangs to about midway down his calf. He wears fitted pants of the same colour as his shirt, black soft-leather boots, and a dark leather belt at his waist that his sheathed hunting dagger usually hangs upon.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Duty is very important to Maegisil, sometimes seemingly the most important thing to him, and it has the greatest effect on his personality. He is very passionate about the people and ideals that are close to him, often so much so that he can be very close-minded, and his judgment can be clouded by his feelings. He is undyingly loyal to those he loves, as well as his people and his beliefs, and can be naïve about this.

His passion and loyalty are a part of his overall strength of character, as an elf with a strong and loving heart whose perseverance drives him to great accomplishment as a warrior and a servant, and makes him always ready to rise to the occasion, no matter what is demanded of him. His faithfulness and his fervor and deep capacity to love are also a large part of his relationship with his wife, Sairien. He is very trusting of the people that he sees as trustworthy, but everyone must earn this view from him, and this is not an easy thing to do. When it comes to whom or what Maegisil places his deep-rooted faith in, he is not at all naïve.

He is also not at all the kind of person who loves ‘freely’. Perhaps it would strengthen his character if he was such a person, but it is in his nature to show love for a very select few, and to show only the amount of respect that seems proper for everyone else. He is most often outwardly stern and dutiful, and has been told to ‘loosen up’ on occasion. This appearance sometimes makes him initially disliked, though most often those who get more acquainted with him warm up to him quickly. Maegisil may not be an open book to anyone but Sairien and Celebrimbor, but he can easily lose his severity and show a warm face to others.

HISTORY: Born in SA 38, Maegisil was one of the first born in Lindon. He was raised as a both a warrior, a defender of his people, and as a craftsman, who could serve his people in many ways. In SA 750 he was among the younger, adventurous elves who accompanied Celebrimbor in the founding of Eregion. In those travels, Celebrimbor came upon the young elf practicing his swordsmanship (mainly, in his brashness, to show off what he had recently learned from an elder, more seasoned warrior – one of Celebrimbor’s personal guards), and examined the blade Maegisil was using, in curiosity. When the young elf informed the lord that he had crafted it himself, Celebrimbor became even more interested, and they spoke for a long time. This was, of course, not the last time they spoke, and it came that the elf-lord practically adopted Maegisil as a son.

In the many years that followed, he became more of a brother than a son, growing wise and strong in both mind and heart, as well as body, through the help and simply the observation of one such as Celebrimbor. His crafting skills were also drastically improved, as we was personally instructed by the elf-lord. Soon, Maegisil was appointed by the lord to a position in which he acted as a personal assistant to Celebrimbor, though his job was less like a servant’s and more comparable to that of a counselor, though Maegisil would never be as bold to consider it such. Around SA 1200, however, Maegisil began to counsel his lord less, as a person named ‘Annatar’ had arrived, and, following this, the elf-lord began to spend quite a bit of his time in the forge. Still, Maegisil saw much of Celebrimbor and aided him many a time until around 1500, when the elf-lord grew even scarcer. The one called Annatar was always coming and going, and by the early to mid 1500s, Maegisil did not see him at all, and was gladdened by this. He assumed that he would see more of his lord with Annatar gone. But he found himself to be wrong.

The Lord Celebrimbor still performed all his usually duties, and spoke with his friend Maegisil, but did so less and less, slowly. Late in the year 1590, Maegisil asked for the lady Sairien’s hand in marriage, as he had long been acquainted with and had spoken to her, as she was part of Celebrimbor’s court. But, soon after this, Celebrimbor disappeared for 6 days, working constantly in the forge. When he finally emerged, he acted strangely, speaking of Rings and of his creations. For years Celebrimbor hid what he had crafted, until late in 1692, when the Elves were on the brink of war with Sauron, who had grown much in power. Following this, he sent the Three to Lindon, where it was determined where to hide them, so that Sauron would never possess them. As Celebrimbor prepares for defending Eregion from Sauron’s forces, Maegisil aids him in every way that he can, and readies his sword for the defense of Ost-in-Edhil.

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Durelin's post ------- FIRST FOR THE GAME

The Three ~ A Prologue

Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky,
Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone,
Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die,
One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne
In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.

In the Second Age of Middle-earth, deep within the heat of the forge, the rhyme was fulfilled. Sauron, under the disguise of one named Annatar, had come to the Elven-smiths, the Gwaith-i-Mírdain of Eregion. Dark magic bred deception, and Sauron the Deceiver seduced the Elves, taking on a body fair and majestic. The might of a Maia and the skill of the elven craftsmen brought into the world a new power, a power which few knew the true greatness of. It is unlikely that even its creators knew its full power, besides perhaps the great trickster, the servant of Morgoth. Might and authority, fueled by deep magic from the dawn of time, was poured into the molds in the shapes of rings, and these creations, the greatest of crafts forged by the Noldorin smiths, became the Rings of Power.

The magic of all nineteen of these rings, and one other, would be a part of Sauron’s greatest treachery. Only three would survive and make the journey to Valinor with their bearers. These were the greatest of the Rings, named Narya, Nenya, and Vilya, which had been forged by Celebrimbor himself, Lord of Eregion.

~*~*~*~

c. SA 1590

“It has been quite some time since I saw Lord Celebrimbor…” The Elf trailed off, an unspoken question hanging on the silence that followed. “It has been some time for me as well, Master Annúnfin,” Maegisil replied, speaking as if he was only lightly commenting, but answering his companion quite seriously. He knew it was important business when Annúnfin wished to speak with the Lord Celebrimbor, and when the Elf-lord had been absent from his normal duties for so long. “I will be sure to inform him that you wish to speak with him, when I do see him,” he finished, his last words bringing many thoughts to his mind. When…I hope that shall not be much longer.

It was difficult for Maegisil to explain to all those who wished to receive an audience with the lord that he could not even speak to his master, and had not been able to for many days; this was unexpected, as Maegisil had served Celebrimbor as the lord’s attendant for many years now. Though Maegisil would never be so bold as to say it, he was also a close friend, and an old friend, of the lord.

Celebrimbor had been spending almost all of his time in the forge, sweating over his work, and conversing mostly with the visitor, Annatar. The strange elf – at least, Maegisil believed he was an elf; he was certainly of a fair race, though it was impossible to say which he belonged to for sure – seemed to be some sort of a magician. What business this elf had with the Lord of Eregion was a mystery to Maegisil, as well as to all those who had never even had a chance to speak to the lord before, and those who knew him well. It was bewildering to all except those who worked in the forge with Celebrimbor and this ‘Annatar’, some of the greatest of the Noldorin craftsmen, second only to Celebrimbor himself. For almost seven days now the forges at Ost-in-Edhil had been burning, it seemed, day and night, and had been kept off-limits to most of the city dwellers. Maegisil had ventured to speak to his lord the previous afternoon, and had briefly watched several of the smiths at work. There had been much noise emerging at a constant rate from the forge for those past 6 days, so that Maegisil had barely been able to hear his own voice over the clamor, but now all was quiet, and only the barred doors told anyone that they were still hard at work. Hopefully, though, the silence meant that their task, whatever it was, was nearing completion, and Maegisil would no longer have to wait in his Lord Celebrimbor’s antechamber, spending hours pacing and straightening gemmed statues and chests, and delicately woven tapestries on the walls, and rich cloths over table-tops…none of which needed any straightening whatsoever.

Annúnfin muttered some kind of thanks with a slight bow of his head in simple respect, and turned to go. But Maegisil watched as the elf turned back in one swift motion and looked him in the eye, and he prepared himself for more questions that he could not answer. He was surprised when Annúnfin simply said, “I was pleased to hear you have found yourself a wife, Maegisil.”

Maegisil stumbled on his thoughts for a moment, his mouth open to reply but words coming out. Finally his mind caught up with his mouth and he responded. “Thank you,” he began, a little uncertain, and obviously caught off-guard by Annúnfin’s comment. “It has been wonderful, very wonderful.”

A small smile formed on Annúnfin’s face, his eyes full of an understanding that Maegisil believed he would never have. Master Annúnfin was decidedly his elder, and never left any doubt of this in Maegisil’s impression. The elder elf turned to go again, and this time, Maegisil watched him walk away through the large gilded doors that exited into the great hallway that led up to his chambers. Maegisil’s mind traveled to thoughts of Sairien, his wife. But he did not have long to dwell on these, as they were interrupted by the flinging open of the doors of the antechamber. Immediately Maegisil looked up from the patch of beautifully tiled floor he had been staring at, knowing before his eyes even had a chance to see who was entering the chamber that only one person had ever flung those doors open before, and normally in excitement.

“Maegisil! My dear Maegisil!” Celebrimbor was practically shouting, seemingly frantic with excitement, full of energy, and obviously quite happy to see the elf that he had just found waiting in his antechamber. “I have much to tell you!”

“As have I to tell you, my lord,” Maegisil responded, maintaining an outwardly calm and dutiful appearance, though he was full of happiness to see that his lord was quite safe and healthy, and to finally be able to speak with him. He also felt a certain amount of excitement following Celebrimbor’s entrance, matching the elf-lord’s manner.

“Please, Maegisil, there is no necessity for any ‘my lord’s. These are my chambers, and so you may call me what you please.” Maegisil knew this, though he did like showing what he felt was the proper respect, and was prepared to respond, but he was ran over by Celebrimbor’s words, which rushed out in his enthusiasm.

“But you must know…I have finished them, and they are the greatest of all things I, or anyone, has ever crafted. Perhaps they are great enough even to relinquish my cursed House’s honor, though I doubt there is anything even an immortal can do in this Age or any Age to come that would out-do the power of the Oath of Fëanor.”

The lord paused long enough for Maegisil to speak quickly, “What have you finished, my lord?”

In his haste, he had forgotten to leave off the ‘my lord’, but it seemed that Celebrimbor no longer cared, as he was too deep in thought, seemingly enthralled with this new accomplishment that he spoke of vehemently. “Why, they are the Three. They are the greatest of the Rings of Power, of all 19. Yes, 19, after 90 years. And I fear there must be more to come. They truly are like nothing this world has known, even in Ages past, even with the War of the Silmarils long behind us. Of course, the creation of most of the rings was made possible by Annatar, and now…” He trailed off, his excitement slowly turning from confusion to what could only be fear. That was not something Maegisil was accustomed to seeing on the face and in the eyes of the elf-lord.

“Now what? I do not understand…” Maegisil trailed off, realizing that he really had nothing to say, though there were hundreds of questions running through his mind.

“Now, I am afraid I have made a grave mistake. A mistake that will affect the lives of many in both this Age and the Age to come, perhaps even Ages to come. I am very afraid, Maegisil, very afraid of what I, and my craftsmen, have done, and I am even more afraid of what the one I know only as Annatar has done, and what he will do. O by the Valar, Maegisil! For the first time in my life, I do not know what to do.”

Maegisil felt very uncertain in the silence that followed; he was confused, as well as uneasy and afraid, though he did not even understand why he was at all at unrest, except for what he saw in the look in Celebrimbor’s eyes and what he heard in the tone of his voice.

“What should I do, my lord?” he asked, cautiously, breaking the silence.

“I do not…” he stopped in the middle of this thought, took a breath, collecting himself, and started again, his thoughts renewed, “Soon, the Three must go from here. They must be hidden; they cannot be kept here. Though Annatar is gone, and he has been gone for some time, they mustn’t be within his reach. There is no way to undo what has been done, but, though they seem a curse to me now, the Three will not leave the house of our people.”

~*~*~*~

c. 1600

Maegisil bowed before the Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn next to an elf he did not know the name of and their dwarf companions. He and this elf had traveled through Moria at the direction of the dwarves to exit through the eastern gate and make their way to Lorien, where they had recently been welcomed and led to Caras Galadon. Maegisil had been told very little by Celebrimbor, and was given only the instructions to guard his elf companion, and not bring any attention to themselves or their movements. Following orders, Maegisil did not ask the elf his name, and spoke to him only to make suggestions as to what paths they should take to avoid different obstacles of the land. Now that they had reached their destination, Maegisil did not speak at all.

The strange elf rose from his bow as the Lady Galadriel came forward. He turned to give Maegisil a look that clearly meant to stay out of his business. So Maegisil backed away to stand some distance from the elf, gesturing that the dwarves following him. Of course Viss Stonecut and his companions did not like this at all, and they grumbled a bit before joining Maegisil. Viss was the first to move, and the rest followed his lead. At least two of the dwarves present were certainly related to him, and younger, and obviously they held some kind of respect for him. There were only four dwarves, but even four of that race was enough to be quite the crowd, and they looked odd standing in a clump in the domain and presence of so many elves. Maegisil remained removed from them and watched in wonder as Galadriel accepted a small wooden chest from the unnamed elf. The Lady’s face was marvelously frightening as it scanned the faces of those who surrounded her, meeting Maegisil’s eyes for a moment. She did not smile as she had when she greeted them.

Suddenly she spoke, and spoke to all present. It seemed she was not as keen to hiding the proceedings. “Remember that there will always be light in Lorien, as I will bear this Ring, Nenya. You will always be safe here.” And as she raised her hand aloft just slightly, all present realized she had opened the chest and already donned what it contained. The beauty of Nenya startled them all, and left them full of wonder. Soon, far away upon the western shores of Middle-earth, the Elven-kings Gil-galad and Cirdan would wear the Rings Narya and Vilya, and the Three Rings for the Elven-kings, and Queen, would remain as powers of good in Middle-earth until they passed over into the West.

~*~*~*~

Late in the year SA 1695

Maegisil rushed up several flights of stairs only to stop and cautiously enter a pair of gilded doors, his mind filled with memories, all that he recalled from a day over a century ago. It did not seem that long ago, and yet the thought that the day he recalled was only several days after he had asked for his Sairien’s hand in marriage was nearly unbelievable.

Entering the chamber behind the gilded double doors, Maegisil found, of course, exactly whom he was looking for, reclining on a long couch and examining a game board with many small, flat, rounded stone pieces on it in designated positions. It was some kind of strategy game that the elf-lord had once tried to teach to Maegisil, praising how consuming it was and how much it put the mind in a struggle, forcing it to think as quickly as it could under pressure. Just what a general needed, he had said. As Maegisil had no interest in becoming a general, and simply wished to remain in his place at Celebrimbor’s side in battle, he had quickly given up on the game.

“My lord,” he began cautiously, interrupting Celebrimbor’s thoughts so that the lord’s head snapped up from the game board with a perturbed look on his face. His face softened quickly, though, and he asked Maegisil what had brought him here.

“Well, sir, we have received word from the King Gil-galad that the servant of Morgoth, Sauron, has grown in power enough that his armies have begun to terrorize the eastern part of these lands.”

“Sauron…much have I heard that name of late.” The elf-lord rose, a troubled look on his face, and began to pace. “He has even been in my dreams,” he paused in his pacing, and in his words, to look Maegisil in the eye, urgency written upon his face.

“It was only a matter of time before he would attack and strike back at our people.”

“But we still are in possession of the Three, and they are safe.” Maegisil cut in, reminding the elf-lord that there was at least one possible advantage.

“I can only hope that they will be more a blessing than the curse that they seem to be,” Celebrimbor quickly said in response to Maegisil’s statement, still unsure of whether or not the safe existence of the Three was in fact a good thing.

“They are not a curse as long as they are safe in the hands of Kings and a Queen of our people," the younger elf assured his lord. “And Lord Elrond has been sent to our aid with a considerable force,” Maegisil said, hoping to bring some kind of relief to his lord, uncertain of what the elf was so afraid of, and quickly growing afraid himself.

“It will be some time before he will reach us here, and Sauron will be moving quickly. Not too quickly – he is too wise for that. But his armies will arrive in Eregion, and they will march upon the gates of Ost-in-Edhil, and he will call upon me. But he does not know where the Three are, nor of the oath I have sworn…”

“We will be prepared for Sauron’s attack, my lord," Maegisil said, again trying to give his lord confidence in the situation. “Sauron is very strong, and our strength here does not match that of Forlindon and Harlindon, but there are many in Eregion that will fight for you.”

Celebrimbor laughed slightly, leaving Maegisil confused. It was almost a bitter laugh, and was the kind of laugh you hear from someone who is distressed and yet finds something to be darkly laughable. “I know you will fight for me, Maegisil,” the elf-lord said, “but I ask it of you and others to fight for our people, for their families.”

Maegisil only nodded, standing grave and silent before his lord, and recalling the day over century ago when Celebrimbor had first told him of the Rings. He was again afraid as he had been on that day, and when he looked at Celebrimbor, tall, fair, and brooding, he knew that the lord felt that same: afraid and uncertain. The biggest difference to Maegisil this time was the more prominent presence of Sauron. Since around the year 1200 of that age, word had it Sauron had been establishing his fortress in Mordor, and now the threat of the Dark Lord was even more of a reality, and all were learning to tremble slightly at that name, most likely to the pleasure of its bearer.

Celebrimbor asked Maegisil if he would bring the King’s emissary to him, feeling it of course proper that he receive them and speak to them himself. The younger elf quickly obeyed and left the elf-lord alone, deep in thought. The master of the Elvensmiths had much on his mind, and few of his thoughts were pleasant.

As he had sworn, the Three Rings, the greatest creations he had ever crafted, which he had hoped would be a blessing to himself and to his people, would never fall out of the hands of the Eldar, as they were hidden safely. They had been for close to a century, as he had long awaited the time when Sauron the Deceiver, or ‘Annatar’ as he had known him for a time, would strike with the power of his Ring. But the other rings were all in Sauron’s possession. Celebrimbor kept coming back to this thought, the knowledge of just how far the Deceiver’s power extended. But, as the elf-lord kept telling himself, he would never have the greatest, the Three. They would be a powerful defense for his people. Or so, at least, he hoped the future of these rings would unfold. I beg of Ilúvatar, let not the Oath of Fëanor mar this.

[piosenniel]

Elves of Eregion


Amanaduial's character

NAME: Narisiel Mirdain

AGE: 1210 at the time of the forging of the rings, 1313 at the beginning of the War. (born in SA 380)

RACE: Elf, originally from Harlindon, now dwelling in Ost-in-Edhil

GENDER:[ Female

WEAPONS: As a woman, Narisiel was not formally trained with weapons, but her father taught her more than a little practical knowledge with a sword and arrows, somewhat more than simply self-defence. Her husband, Sirithlonnior, a soldier, echoed this concern that she should be able to use a weapon, and so subsequently Narisiel is fairly proficient with a sword. She therefore crafted for herself a sword that can be used double-handed but also works well when used single handed: she is strong enough to wield a heavier weapon due to years working in a forge and is therefore strong for a woman, but knows that in a battle situation when she might have to use her sword, there would certainly be others with simply more brute strength than her, and so the skill that can be gained with a lighter weapon may be favourable. Hers is therefore lighter than a traditional double-handed sword, but a little heavier and longer than might be expected of a single-handed short stabbing sword. It is more a thing of beauty than weaponry, with the finest leather binding its hilt and a pommel and guard laid over with silver, and alfirin leaves winding a slim, delicate chain down the blade to the tip: Sirithlonnior teased her that such a flower is too associated with death, but Narisiel simply smiled and pointed out that did that not make Alfirin all the more appropriate for a weapon?

APPEARANCE: Narisiel’s features could have been crafted by her own delicate fingers, her fine boned face symmetrical and certainly striking. Her skin is pale due to the hours hidden behind a guard in a forge or in her workshop poring over some delicate piece of finery, her chin a little pointed and determined, her sharp, intelligent eyes solemn and thoughtful yet quick to flash with amusement: they are surprisingly dark and so are all the more striking when set in her pale face. Her pale face is framed with almost black hair, again making a stark contrast against her light skin; it falls down to her waist, although this is not particularly practical for her work, and so is usually tied up in a long plait down her back, or twisted in several plaits to keep it out of the way: this means that whenever she lets it loose, her hair retains a permanent series of waves all down its length. Narisiel is not especially tall for her people, standing at about 5’9”, and she is quite slender but muscular: outside of her forge or workshop, she wears clothes similar to any other lady of high standing, for her profession has taught her to love beauty, and such dress belies her muscles to an extent, lying in context with her delicate features; but in the forge she wears clothes much like any of the other smiths but obviously with a few adaptations: dark, sturdy clothes, often of leather or similar primarily practical, hard-wearing materials: a jerkin worn over a shirt, whose sleeves are usually rolled up above her elbows, breeches of a softer, more easily moveable material, over which a long apron is worn, which reaches down to mid-shin. These are the clothes that are usually only seen by other smiths, however: in public she dresses as a lady.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Narisiel is a woman of natural intelligence that she had done her best to use in her studies to become one of the foremost smiths of Eregion. This also required a fair amount of determination of course, and determination she certainly has: she is not one to back down from a challenge or from something she believes in or loves dearly, and her determination reaches to the point of stubbornness. However, that is not to say that her heart will always rule her head, and her prudence and wise advise is valued by Celebrimbor, as is her quick wit by both her Lord and her husband. It is a wit that is not always seen, however: in public, Narisiel remains quite quiet with those she does not know well or yet trust, and she is quick, often too quick, to judge other people. Her quiet, often solemn nature probably came initially from her father’s own rather sombre personality when she was growing up, always in comparison to her dead older brother although he always valued his daughter for what she was. The quiet, modest understanding that existed between Narisiel and her father is something that remains in her relationships in the present as well, and she is not, as some are, afraid of silence in a conversation. But that is not to say that she is always so: she is quick to show her amusement or her love when in private, and her son’s birth has perhaps extended her capacity to love, and love him she does, with a fierce, protective love that, for almost the first time in her life, overshadows her work. Maybe some of the fire from her forge has slipped into her nature, for her fierceness often shows in other areas as well, and in a debate her quietness can quite vanish in place of powerful and heated oratory skills. She is a skilled smith, a wise counsellor, a loving mother and a good wife, all at once a very private person as well as a public figure.

HISTORY: Born in Harlindon, Narisiel was the only daughter and eventually the only child of her parents, her mother and brother both drowning only a few weeks after she was born. Her father, an elf much older than his young wife, never blamed his daughter for surviving in place of her strong, intelligent older brother, and neither was he consciously disappointed in his only child being a daughter, but nonetheless Narisiel always felt the pressure, his need for her to succeed in place of her brother. As she was female, Narisiel would not trained as a warrior, as a brother would have been; but her father was not an especially affectionate or excessively extravagant man, and subsequently his way of showing his love for his daughter was not to spoil her as an only child, but to instead lavish upon her a gift that would last her far longer than material goods: the gift of an education. Instead of being given jewels, Narisiel was to learn how to make them – to earn a living and, at the same time, to earn a way of making her father proud. Subsequently when she came of age, Narisiel was sent East to Eregion to a friend of her father’s, for where better to learn to be a smith than from the Mirdain themselves?

Narisiel studied hard and her natural intelligence and hard work paid off as she rose in renown in her profession, being unusual both as a female and as a foreigner, but always with the backing of her father, although he remained in Lindon, and her mentor, an experienced jewelsmith – Narisiel in turn specialised in jewellery especially. The great effort and time she put into her profession often left the young elven woman with little time for herself, but, coming herself from the ‘land of music’, she had a love of music and kept this up – and eventually it was through music that she met her husband, Sirithlonnior, a captain in the army of Eregion, who she married in 1482. But Narisiel continued to rise in renown and skill, reaching the dizzy heights of the innermost forges in which Celebrimbor himself worked, and there faced her greatest challenge yet: working on nineteen rings, the greatest rings that would ever grace the face of this earth. Like the rest of the smiths and craftsmen who talked to Annatar of the rings, Narisiel fell under the spell of the magic and wonder that these rings would be, and so with those select few, she threw herself into the creation of those rings. To an extent, maybe, she was jealous of Annatar, his skill so great that he was immediately welcomed into Ost-in-Edhil without question, rather than having to work his way up as she had; on the other hand, maybe part of her wished to impress him, and to impress the Lord Celebrimbor. But the best was not yet to come: in the year 1590, Narisiel, along with a few more select jewelsmiths, was to work on the pinnacle of nearly a century’s work: the forging of three rings, three rings that would almost cast the others in shadow, fire, water and air; the three greatest elven rings.

Her enthusiasm in those last six days almost turned to an obsession, and not for any of the three men in her life would she come out of the forges – or reveal her work to them. Narisiel barely stopped to sleep or eat, so determined was she to prove herself as one of the Mirdain, to live up to the honour that had been bestowed on her. But as she had worked on the rings, from about halfway through their forging in the 1540s, she had felt some sort of unease, something…not quite right about the making of these nineteen rings, and in the last six days as Celebrimbor locked himself away with only those few smiths and the mysterious Annatar, she realised that she was not the only one to feel that unease: Celebrimbor had the air of a desperate man, a man working to forge paradise but with the worry that it would simply yield only an empty utopia. And as the three rings were finally completed, their delicate finishing touches detailed by Celebrimbor himself, the pride in Narisiel’s heart was somewhat overshadowed – overshadowed by a doom sense of ‘what have we done’. Things that powerful could not be all good…but little did she know the power of what those beautiful, perfect creations could do.

In the last one hundred years, the elven smith continued her work as a jewelsmith, but also extended her expertise into other areas of crafting, working secondarily on armoury, often fine, ceremonial pieces, as close to jewellery as possible; for how could she work solely on jewellery when she knew that she could never create something as perfect and powerful as those rings? She tried to put them out of her mind, but seemed haunted by them: she was blessed with a son, and Sirithlonnior gave him the name Artamirion, noble jewel, and although the name seemed to fit, her son being the only thing she could imagine more beautiful than those rings, she was unsure if she liked such a comparison, the dread that it seemed to entail. After the creation of the rings, Narisiel became an advisor to the Lord Celebrimbor, and at the same time a friend, but it was a somewhat wary, almost guilty friendship, both elves unable to forget the three elven rings. In time, the memory of them dimmed, and Narisiel was able to get on with her life as a counsellor, as a wife, as a mother, and as a smith – but little did she know how those rings would stir the folds of history, more than a century after their creation…


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Amanaduial the archer's post

Seated gracefully on the banks of the river, Ost-in-Edhil spread it’s elegant almost lotus-shaped leaves out over the River Glanduin. Bordered on one side by mountains and surrounded by rivers on all others – the Glanduin and smaller Siranon, glancing off the larger river, the tributaries of Nin-in-Eilph, and the majestic Mitheithel – it sat harmlessly in the South of Eregion. In the capital of the ‘holly region’, all was hustle and bustle as always: the year was drawing on yet above the heads of the elven inhabitants the holly leaves still swung gently in the winds, and the sound of the elvensmiths in their forges, always, always sang out among their evergreen leaves. From a birdseye view, little could the eagles that circled regally overhead have guessed what busy little bees had been working on inside those forges – and what evil their creations would bring from over the mountains of Mordor…

As Maegisil was rushing hastily down the stairs of Celebrimbor’s regal dwelling from his master’s rooms on his master’s errand, one of the Lord of Eregion’s other advisors was also working hard, but far away from the finery of Celebrimbor’s rooms, where her lordship played games of strategy. Hers was another type of work indeed: the work that Ost-in-Edhil’s Mirdain were famous for.

The clang of Nerisiel’s hammer rang out again and again on the anvil, the flat-ended instrument chiming out almost musically. The elf took careful aim each time before she clashed iron against steel, but the force with which she smashed down her tool seemed to convey anger more than anything else. Eventually, her pale face glinting in the firelight of the forge, the elvensmith set her hammer down, with a pair of tongs, lifted the object of her attentions from the anvil; and after close inspection, she nodded slightly, her delicate features satisfied, and took the item over to her workbench. Setting the article – a new sword blade – carefully down on the bench, Nerisiel seated herself beside it, her feet curling up around the chair leg in an almost lady like manner that was somewhat contradicted by the loose, dark workman’s trousers that they were clad in, overlaid with the shin-length leather apron common to working smiths. Not that any who came to see the Master Smith would have commented on it – or not out loud anyway. After all, in Ost-in-Edhil, female smiths were not entirely uncommon – but for one to reach her standard of craftsmanship: that was.

Humming softly to herself, the elf studied the blade she had made closely, holding it almost delicately in the tongs although it had now cooled sufficiently to be touched. It was a commissioned blade from one of her husband’s colleagues, a Captain in Eregion’s army, as a gift for his son, and would therefore be rather more ornamental before she had finished with it. After all, her own blade, which hung proudly over her forge as an example of her work, was testimony to the fact that simply because a weapon is a tool of violence, it cannot also be a thing of beauty – and having known the boy to whom the sword would be bestowed since be was a small child no more than about ten summers, she intended to make this article just such. Nothing less would do for Nerisiel, for she was after all a jewel smith above all else. A profession which had come back recently to haunt her… The elf pursed her lips grimly and turned back to the task in hand. Yes, the blade would have to take another heating before the engravings that she planned were carved on it, but not too much: she could begin them today, it was not too late in the day…

“Who is that for?”

The voice came from the entrance to the forge and was one so familiar to the smith that it did not make her jump but instead prompted a smile on her pretty features. She turned, smiling, to face the young elf who leant with his arms nonchalantly crossed against the door post of her workshop, the leaves of the holly that was trained around her doorway lightly brushing hair as dark as his own. Her finest work of art: her son.

“It is for a friend of yours actually, Artamir – Leneslath, Captain Rimborien’s son. A gift from his parents, a reward for his recent promotion?” Artamir nodded, coming slowly forward into the dim of the forge, the light glinting mischievously in his eyes, lighter than those of his mother, as he examined the blade from behind his mother’s shoulder. She turned to watch her son proudly: he would be fifty summers this year and had truly grown into a beautiful young man, a son who both she and her husband were proud of.

Artamir smiled at his mother, stepping back slightly, and then nodded towards the beginnings of a hilt that lay further down the bench. “For the same?” When his mother nodded, Artamir raised his eyebrows. “Silver? Will you be using rubies with it?”

She smiled and shook her head. Although he was bound to be a soldier, as his father was, she was glad that her son nonetheless did not dismiss his mother’s art and had come to appreciate her craft – even to the point of knowing some of her designs. “Emerald. His previous sword was made of the same, Rimborien informs me, and besides, they will suit his nature more: he is a far less fierce young man than yourself, Artamir!” she chided teasingly.

“And where did I get such a trait, I wonder, mother? Not from my father I think…” the younger elf grinned and raised a sardonic eyebrow at his mother. “Am I then to have rubies?”

Nerisiel kept a straight face as she replied, “What makes you think you shall receive such gems in your sword, my son? Why, I had intended simply a plain design for you – nay, in fact, your current training sword shall do just fine, I shall model my design on that!” she teased, referring to the sword that Artamir used for sword training, a plain, blockish instrument that the smith’s trained elf regarded critically as the bare essentials – that is, it had a blade, a hilt, and not much else. Her son’s eyes widened – he still had the innocence of youth enough to be surprised – then he put on a mock sad face. “As you wish, mother…”

Nerisiel laughed and embraced her son fondly before sending him on his way out of her workshop – he had come by on his way home from training with a few of his friends, and he proudly informed her that Rimborien’s son – a boy no few years older than himself – had complimented him on his style. Nerisiel smiled at the doorway that her son had just left. Style, they said? And style his gift would most certainly have, once his coming of age was reached next summer – as Sirithlonnior, his father, would certainly have been able to tell him, had Nerisiel not sworn him to secrecy, for a light came into her eyes whenever she spoke of the sword’s details. The blade she made as her son’s first sword would be one of her finest weaponry creations yet…

Her finest creations yet…

Nerisiel sighed heavily and rubbed her tired eyes with the back of one hand. The thought of those rings, those finest of all pieces ever created, and her part in their making had returned more and more often to her mind of late. Pushing away the sword blade she had been working on, the smith walked across her workshop and stepped out into the street outside to behold the view from the city walls. Although she had the privilege to work for and with Celebrimbor in the innermost forges, she had not wishes to give up her own workshop at the East side of the city, for the memories it had of her earliest days with her mentor, and for the view it held over the Sirannon and the mountains to the East. Maybe this siting was no longer such an advantage: every day, Nerisiel was reminded of the darkness that was growing in the East, over those mountains in Mordor…

Sighing, the elvensmith returned to her desk and, after a slight hesitation, she put aside the soft cloth that she had her hand on with a mind to wrapping it up. No: she had people to see but what use would it be to brood on the dark thoughts on her mind? After all, Leneslath’s blade would not get done itself… Picking up the tongs again and resuming her humming as she tried to lighten her heart, Nerisiel returned to her forge to heat the blade – the engraving would be next. As her humming continued, the elvensmith’s heart lifted as she turned once again to the business in hand – weaponry, rather than those three, beautiful pieces of jewellery…

[piosenniel]

Elves of Eregion


Esgallhugwen's character

NAME: Fëaglin Lómë

AGE: 1, 587

RACE: Elf of Eregion

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS : A long sword, light yew longbow, elvish rope.


APPEARANCE: Usually has a stern contemplative look on his face. Which only adds more severity to his clear grey eyes that some say give off an odd glint of light. His long blonde hair is plaited along the sides in intricate if not eccentric braids to keep it out of his face. He is well built but thin and lithe enough to pass by unnoticed. His garb usually consists of the colours crimson and black (very eccentric indeed) of course he does wear a customary leather apron when doing his silver smith work.


PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Fëaglin has a cool and collected head on his shoudlers. He is a reliable and loyal friend with a cunning mind and a keen skill in silver craft. He hopes to someday be true to kind and noble deeds. But for all his good qualities he can be a bit of a loudmouth on rare occasions when he over indulges in the finer vineyards of wine housed in the cellar.



HISTORY: Having lived in Eregion for quite some time Fëaglin was accustomed to the peacefulness that came with it. He often spends his time deep in thought about his next venture in silver smithing, whether rings or ring mail he considers the designs with a tacticians grace. He has a sharp eye and deft fingers to detail and throughout his career has never missed an oppportunity to show his skill with a master's flourish. His father was somewhat of a military man and showed his young son the art of sword and bow in case they would be needed some day. His mother was a kind hearted soul always willing to give to others and often spent her time in the garden tending to flowers and singing with the birds.


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Esgallhugwen's post

Fëaglin's hammer made a sharp tinging sound as it struck the silver, flattening it into a wide band. He then took a small pair of pliers and twisted the metal to his desired effect, plaiting it along with two other strands in an intricate fashion of spirals and curves, similar to the delicate knotwork of vines.

He laughed heartily as he finished his commisioned task, a spiraling necklace for a bride to be, and nine circlets for the maids in waiting. A fellow silver-smith across the street with a bright young apprentice had made two beautiful rings for the couple. Fëaglin had been close to the furnace all day, so it was no suprise that he thought he deserved a nip of fresh air along with a nip of some fine wine.

The lean Elf cleared his work area, and set the finished silver pieces along a long table made viewable through a window so that others may admire his work, and be inspired to commision or buy some of his pre-crafted vendibles. The sun was setting as he locked up his shop for the night, and made his way into his house, just spacious enough for himself and one other. He shook the stiffness from his fingers.

But there was no other, not yet at any rate and at times Fëaglin grew heart sick in the dark of his room playing with the silver trinkets he had fashioned in his spare time in his forge. One in particular was special to him, a device of curious beauty.

Many loops of silver were strung together with subtle gems interlaced in the finery, and when one would push the outer most ring the others were set into motion, revolving around one another in a dizzying harmony. And if the light of the setting sun were to hit the gems just right an efflorescence of watery colour would sweep across the vaulted ceiling.

He had not revealed this creation to anyone, this creation of his helped to sooth his troubled thoughts and helped to clear his mind. Fëaglin was not blind to the encroaching darkness nor was he insensitive to the greater weight it was now pushing onto his Kin, threatening their very way of life.

Rumours had come of orcs along the borders and of Eregion's impending doom, but also the rumoured hope that help would arrive before all came to naught. Fëaglin hoped with all his will that that were true.

His grey eyes gazed steadily at the sword and bow hanging from the far wall, a growing knowledge came to him that they would have to be used before the end. He stood and walked down into the cellar picking a glass and small bottle of home made wine.

He made his was into the well kept courtyard and uncorked the bottle with the intention to finish it before he crept into bed under the starry sky. His head would be clearer in the morning.

[piosenniel]

Elves of Eregion


Mithalwen's character

NAME: Losrian Lindiel

AGE: Born 1645 SA So 50 (borderline adult in elf years) at the start of the action

RACE: Elf (Noldorin/Telerin)

GENDER: Female

WEAPONS : Good sharp knife, long bow (will acquire sword later)

APPEARANCE: Has reached what is likely to be full height of 6 Feet. Although of mainly Noldorin blood she has inherited the silver hair of her Telerin grandmother. She has the pale complexon and grey eyes of her people. As a craftsperson she cares deeply for the appearance of the things that she makes but has not yet developed any interest in her own appearance. She wears the clothes that are most practical for what she is doing and her long hair is usually pulled back into a loose and untidy plait. Generally looks quite scruffy especially by elvish standards.



PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Seems quite "difficult" stubborn and awkward but this masks a little suspected shyness and lack of confidence. Very determined and will usually find a way to acheive her ends. Very loyal and will usually do theght thing even if she grumbles about it. Basically a very young elf who has some growing up to do.

HISTORY:

Born in Lindon in to an unremarkable family she is the daughter of a carpenter / woodcarver and a musician. she is descended from refugees from Gondolin and Sirion. All though she has a fine singing voice (hence her "mother name" of Lindiel) her shyness has given her a horror of performing and to her mother's great disappointment she was determined to become a smith. Her reply to her mother's protests that women did not become smiths was that one of the greatest smiths in Eregion was a woman. As soon as Losrian had heard of Nerisiel it had been her ambition to be apprenticed to her and finally her parents relented. Her elder brother was already at Ost in Edhil, working as a carpenter like their father and while they grieved that both their children woujld be far away, at least the elder could keep an eye on the younger. In 1690, Losrian arrived in Eregion and had been delighted when she was accepted as an apprentice. Losrian is devoted to Nerisiel to the point almost of worship,and has shown a side of her personality that would surprise her family. In the forge and design rooms she is diligent, hardworking and eager to learn as much as possible as soon as possible. At home she resents the domestic duties that keep her from her craft.


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Mithalwen's post

Losrian passed her mentor's son as she left the workshops; she had given a swift smile in acknowledgment but although they were almost the same age (indeed Losrian was the elder by a few months), Artamir had the confidence of his rank that made her feel a lot younger, even though he always treated his mother's apprentice with the greatest courtesy.

She did not go directly back home, she had her bow with her and there was just enough light to go to the buttes for a while first. Nearly five years into her apprenticeship she was still a beginner as Elves rate such things, and with conflict threatening her skill, such as it was has been directed into the consumables of wars. However she was not downcast by her task - she knew that it would be long before she had the skill for sword smithing, and her interest in archery, and a knowledge of wood learnt from her father and brother meant that making arrowheads had a certain fascination. Her trip to the archery practice grounds was to test different designs.

She fitted an arrow and drew it back to anchor point, grey eyes focussed on the target though it was the flight of the arrow that interested her as she released the string.

"That bow is too short for you now, Lossie" said a familiar voice. Losrian did not need to turn in order to know her brother, Ferin, stood behind her. It would have been risking the next arrow through the throat for anyone else to address her thus...

"Indeed, but in current times, I doubt it will be the bowyer's priority to make a bow to fit the stature of a humble apprentice - and if you come to rebuke me, I will be home to scub floors or whatever in a few minutes". Their last private conversation had involved a thinly veiled "suggestion" that Losrian should shoulder more of the household duties to spare her pregnant sister-in-law, Laswen.

"That was not my purpose", he sighed, "I saw you by chance and thought we might walk home together- though we will all have to do more and make sacrifices unless things turn for the better unexpectedly. Those who dwell in the out lands will seek refuge in the city.... You should have stayed in Lindon, you would have been safer there".

"I do not regret my choice, for I have learned more in five years here than I would have learnt in fifty anywhere else - but here, fifty years would not be enough to learn all they might teach me ....."

"Enough, enough.... how anyone can prefer shaping metal to wood is beyond the understanding of a mere carpenter - and I do not want it explained! Let us get home and eat - and find you a floor to scrub since you seem to have your heart set on the task."

As it happened she was spared it, for once they had eaten, she had exchanged a task she hated for one she did not mind. While Laswen took over stitching the dress she was to wear at the feast to mark her fiftieth birthday shortly (her uncommon winter birthday was as much a reason for her name as her pale colouring), Losrian kneaded the bread, singing softly as she did so. She soon finished her task and offered half heartedly to take back the stitching since in Laswen's expert hands more progress had been made in an hour than had been made in many weeks, and it now looked like something that would in time become a dress rather than a random bundle of fabric, ..."unless, there is something else I can do while you sew ? " Losrian added hopefully.

"All is done for today, but I am happy to sew ..." said Laswen, and the pile of tiny garments already awaiting the birth of her child in the spring were a testament to this .."however it would give me joy if you were to fetch your lute and play while I did so since, I fear there will be little enough to sing about in the days to come.

Privately, Losrian agreed with her, and doubted that any would be in the mood for celebration when her birthday arrived. While she would be pleased by the result, hating as she did to be the focus of attention, the cause scared her as much as anyone, and so she did as she was bid and fetched her lute - a parting gift from her parents - and returned to play the simple songs she had learnt as a child, ignoring for that time the many that told of sorrow and war.

[piosenniel]

Elves of Eregion


Alcarillo's character

NAME: Cainenyo Nession

AGE: 1767

RACE: Elf of Eregion

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: Cainenyo uses an antique sword inherited from his father, who was a guard of one of Gondolin’s gates. Named Angereg, it is slightly curved and has a blue leather binding on its long hilt. Cainenyo also has a hunting bow made of yew. He normally hunts animals with it, but it is strong enough to kill orcs. He has no formal weapons training, but hunts regularly. Cainenyo feels that he is ready to fight if he must.

As for armor, Cainenyo usually wears a very polished breastplate, very polished vambraces, and very polished greaves, all of steel, and all made by himself. (Cainenyo is a blacksmith) Underneath it all he wears chain-mail, which extends down to his knees. On his head he wears a helmet with a green plume.

APPEARANCE: Cainenyo is tall, about six feet and two inches, and very strong, having worked at an anvil for most of his life. His hair is dark brown, and extends down to his shoulders in long locks. His eyes are steel grey, like the metals he works with. As for his garb Cainenyo likes to wear dark green, usually embroidered with elegant designs about the edges, and when working he wears a leather apron and gloves. During cooler weather Cainenyo likes to wear a long grey cloak, fastened with a dwarven brooch.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Cainenyo has a friendly, pleasant and open personality, and does not like to become angry at people. He is a loving husband and father, and would die for his family if needed. This love can turn to worry in troublesome times, and he can be over-protective.

In his business, Cainenyo likes to learn from others’ mistakes, which has helped elevate him to the status of an expert blacksmith. As for his own mistakes, Cainenyo often tries to hide them, and sometimes feels angry at himself for failing. He sees mistakes as failures at his expertise in smithy-work. When Cainenyo is saddened or angered he sees his wife, who consoles him and soothes his troubles. Sometimes Cainenyo can be suspicious of others, and often relies on mere intuition. This can make him unreliable when advice is needed.

He does not like to interfere in the affairs of the mighty and important. He just wants to lead a happy life and go on as a blacksmith.

HISTORY: Cainenyo was born in FA 511, right after the Fall of Gondolin. His father was a guard of Gondolin’s Gate of Writhen Iron and his mother was a seamstress. The entire family survived the destruction of the city and lived until the end of the age at the Havens of Sirion. It was during this time that Cainenyo learned most of his skills in smithy-work from Angandil, a survivor of Gondolin’s destruction who moved to Tol Eressea at the end of the age, and many lore-books his parents saved from Gondolin. Cainenyo’s love for metals was first in his heart until he met Alassante, a beautiful elf-maiden whose parents had both survived Gondolin. They fell in love and married. They were thinking of children when the War of Wrath occurred, postponing any plans of a family.

At the beginning of the Second Age they fled to Lindon, which Cainenyo’s family chose as their new home, but ships and the sea did not interest Cainenyo, so he and Alassante decided to follow Celebrimbor to Eregion, attracted by the knowledge of the dwarves and the many opportunities for a new life. Cainenyo has met many dwarves while living in Ost-in-Edhil, and learned much from them. His business as a blacksmith grew, and Cainenyo is considered one of the foremost experts in working with iron. Cainenyo’s son, Arenwino, was born in SA 1598, and is apprenticed to a silversmith across town. Cainenyo has already taught two apprentices, now on their own, and now he mostly makes iron trellises, candelabras, and other things to embellish the home. Lately though, he has been asked to make many swords and armor. Cainenyo has made a sword for his son. Alassante is currently pregnant with her second child, who she and Cainenyo hope to be a girl.


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Alcarillo's post

Cainenyo’s hammer struck a glowing rod of iron, casting sparks across his forge. He was as happy as could be while working; there was little he loved more than to create something usable out of what previously wasn’t. Cainenyo turned the long rod of iron over with tongs, and struck it some more, creating a shower of sparks. He plunged the rod in a bucket of water, throwing steam up into the air. After heating the rod to a warm glow in the furnace, set into the wall and where he heated his iron to make it malleable, he resumed striking the iron on the anvil, gradually forming a distinguishable shape out of it.

Cainenyo’s forge was open to the streets of Ost-in-Edhil, separated by only a few arches and two steps downwards. People could come and go as they pleased, purchasing wares and asking for specific items to be made. The forge itself was focused around the anvil, like the centerpiece of a table set for a feast. Cainenyo’s wares were spread about his forge. They lay displayed on tables and hanging to the walls, examples of the blacksmith’s skill. Cainenyo made things to beautify or serve a purpose in the home: trellises, small slender tables, candelabras, braziers, and elegant grills to cap drainage pipes. But Cainenyo could also make knives, swords, armor, arrowheads, spearheads, and other less domestic goods. Cainenyo, as an expert in iron, was not limited to what he could make.

Cainenyo continued to beat his rod of iron, manipulating it with heavy black tongs and crafting it into a delicate shape, resembling a long blade of grass. He was creating a knife, one to be used in self-defense against an attacker. He plunged it into his bucket of water and held it firmly in his hand, swinging it about for a moment and testing it against an imaginary orc. Cainenyo found the knife to be suitable, and placed it in an old chest near the furnace. He would perform the finishing touches tomorrow. The sun was beginning to set and he decided to finish for the day and enter the house to see his wife, Alassante.

Cainenyo wiped his gloves on his leather apron. Removing the gloves, he noticed a tall figure standing in one of the archways. It was his son, Arenwino, who was apprenticed to a silver-smith across the city. Arenwino was not quite as tall as his father, but more slender, with the wavy dark hair of his mother. He wore the gloves and apron of a silversmilth, and hoped to work with the Mírdain when his apprenticeship was finished.

“You’re back. How did today go?” Cainenyo asked his son.

“It was fine. Today Celebdur taught me more about making molds and such. We made some rings for an engaged couple.” Arenwino said, descending the steps into the forge. He looked about the strewn instruments and noticed the flaming furnace and asked, “Were you making something?”

“Yes, a knife.” Cainenyo answered, “There have been a lot more requests for weaponry these days.” He continued after a short pause, “That reminds me. I have a gift for you.”

Arenwino waited in anticipation as Cainenyo moved to a table to the side of his anvil. There he delicately picked up a long sword. Arenwino stood closer, gazing at the long, curved blade. The flames of the furnace danced on its smooth surface. It was handed to Arenwino, who held it admiringly.

“Thank you, Father,” he spoke, “But what is the occasion? I don’t deserve a sword like this one.”

“Well, there is no occasion, as of now,” Cainenyo answered, “But there may be. I hear of orcs harassing the edges of Eregion, and I don’t want my son to be caught without defense if he happens to be traveling abroad and is ambushed. And besides, who knows how far the orcs might come. What if they attack the city?”

“But surely they won’t. We have soldiers aplenty, and why would they attack Ost-in-Edhil?”

Cainenyo picked up the bucket of water. “Well, I’ve heard that that Annatar, who helped Celebrimbor create those rings, has turned against him. He’s sending orcs against us, or so I’ve heard from the refugees entering the city each day.” He doused the flames of the furnace, sending steam everywhere.

“Will you be asked to fight?” Arenwino looked concerned. The sun was now setting.

“I doubt that. I’m more useful staying here and making weapons and armor than going off to battle. But don’t worry. If I am asked to fight I’ve already made armor for myself and I have a sword. It’s getting late; let’s go inside.”

Cainenyo hung his apron on a peg by the door that led into his home and put away what tools were left laying about. They entered the home’s courtyard through an arched doorway. The courtyard was a small space mostly taken up by a square pool for collecting rainwater and a few bushes of fragrant flowers. They were greeted by Alassante, Cainenyo’s wife and Arenwino’s mother. She was pregnant, and the new child was due in four more months. Alassante’s wavy brown hair fluttered in a slight breeze coming through the open doorway. She wore a light, simple dress, comfortable and loose. She kissed both her son and husband, and led them towards the entrance to the house.

Then Alassante noticed the sword in Arenwino’s hands. “Where did you get that?” she asked.

“Father gave it to me,” said Arenwino, “He told me that orcs were crawling all over the edges of Eregion, and that refugees are coming to the city. He said that the orcs might come here, too, and that I shouldn’t be unarmed. Isn’t that true, Father?”

“It’s certainly a possibility,” Cainenyo said, and his wife frowned at him as they entered the house. Arenwino smiled, despite the future’s uncertainty.

[piosenniel]

Elves of Eregion


Nurumaiel's character


NAME: Erinlaer

AGE: an Elf age... say perhaps somewhere past one thousand

RACE: Elf of Eregion

GENDER: Female

WEAPONS: Erinlaer carries no weapon, and has never been trained to use a weapon, but no doubt she would be able to use one sufficiently if the need
arose.

APPEARANCE: Tall, slender, after the fashion of Elves. Long, dark, silky hair, again after the fashion of Elves. And, once more after the fashion of Elves, grey eyes and fair skin. She has a very light and graceful bearing, more than is usual for her people. She walks about in a way that is almost a dance, and seems constantly to have a sweet melody in her head that she must move with. The expression constantly on her face is very innocent and sweet, almost childish.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Erinlaer is not a dreamer in the strictest sense, but she does have a certain atmosphere of dreams about her. She views all the world in a rosy light, and she disbelieves the existence of evil, not as a willfull choice, but simply because the thought never occured to her. Her mother deplores her naiveness, and her father is delighted with her innocence.

She may constantly be found playing at her harp and humming. She seems to live in a world of light and song, which, though charming to new acquaintances, keeps her from what duties she might have, even the duty of being a joy and affectionate to her parents, though she loves them dearly.

Briefly, to some she is considered sweet, charming, and innocent, and to others she is considered absent-minded, excessively dreamy, and rather simple.

HISTORY: Erinlaer was born to a rather poetic father and a rather common-sense mother. Her father had been renowned for his skill at music and song, but though he was a good husband and father he had the capability of frustrating his wife with his inability at times to look gravely upon the hardness of life and set his hands to hard labour. Music and story was his delight, and he raised his daughter to have a great appreciation for it.

As she grew older her mother searched for and found one who would make a suitable husband for her... a fairly well-off, strong Elf who would appeal to her light-heartedness and innocence by his easy-coming laughter and nobility of heart and mind, but also one who would be a good provider for her by his lack of absent-mindedness. Heledharm himself fell deep in love with her, and she with him, and it was not long before they were wed.

It has not been many years now since their marriage, and they are quite content with their lives, she happy to wile away the hours playing upon her harp, and he more than content to overlook the occasional slips in the housekeeping for the sake of seeing the innocent joy shining in her eyes as she sings.


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Nurumaiel's post

Erinlaer touched a few strings on her harp and the beginning of a haunting tune drifted to her ears. Her eyes brightened keenly, and then softened and gazed absently off into the distance. She kicked her feet very gently back and forth, but aside from that she was motionless. In every respect she seemed to be entirely in another world, one that held nothing but the music she played.

A tall, smiling Elf entered the room and looked fondly at her. She did not even notice him, so he sat down to watch her. Very softly she began to hum, and then she sprang lightly to her feet and began to dance about the room in a very sweet, childlike way. It was not until she tripped on his foot that she became aware of his presence. Her face lit up and she laughed rather shamefacedly.

"I didn't see you, Heledharm," she said simply.

"I came to tell you that your mother intends to visit us," he said. "Your father, too, but this evening. He wants to hear you play and sing."

"And I wish the same of him," she said. "We shall have to play and sing together." She ran her fingers lightly over the well-crafted wood of her harp and smiled gently. "I still have much to learn from him," she said gravely. "He can decide what tune he would like to play and then play it. I can merely play according to what is in my heart and mind. I should learn to govern my music better."

"No, no!" cried Heledharm. "Play as you always have."

A radiant smile swept over her features. "Very well!" she said. "If you wish it."

He could not explain to her how much her music touched him. The quietness or the swell of her emotions translating easily into melody was, he felt, a rare gift, and he would not want her to unlearn it. The light, merry tunes as she skipped happily here and there... the tears that were spilled in music... and the times when she would sit by his side, playing a melody of peace and contentment, that turned to a sweet unswaying love when her eyes fixed on him. He would not have her unlearn that.

"When is mother coming?" she asked, setting her harp down upon the table. "I should be sure that everything is neat and well-ordered before she arrives." She bent down and inspected severely a little stain on the floor. "I fear very much that I've neglected the house these past few days," she said with a sigh. "I hope you have not been bothered much by it." She looked regretfully into his face, and then began to dance from the room. "Never mind!" she said. "In a few minutes everything will be set proper. Mother shan't find fault when she arrives."

And not too long after there was not much fault to be found, for she had danced hither and thither and, though she had gazed several times longingly at her harp, she had set her face grimly and dutifully cleaned house. And once again she was sitting atop the table, singing light and merry.

[piosenniel]

Dwarves of Moria


Pio's character

NAME: Riv Stonecut

AGE: 109 (born 4 years before the Three Rings were made by the Elven smiths)

RACE: Dwarf – one of Durin’s Folk/Longbeard clan

GENDER: male

WEAPONS: mattock; war hammer – thick oaken haft bearing a heavy iron head, sharply beaked blade on one side and a flat, faceted hammer head opposite. For battles in larger, more open spaces, he bears an oak hafted pole axe with a razor sharp edged steel head. Iron helm; long chain mail; thick boiled leather vest; plated arm and leg guards.

APPEARANCE: 5’2”; 160 lbs. Muscular; broad and solidly built. Thick, brown hair worn in a single plait down his back. thick, wiry beard, worn in two braids on either side of his chin. Black breeches, grey tunic, dark brown leather vest with all sorts of pockets for small jewelers tools. Black leather knee high boots, well worn, thick soled. Granite grey, hooded cape; on its left shoulder is a bright silver brooch – a small pick axe with a deep red wine colored garnet set between its two blades. It was a gift from one of the Elven smiths for the precious stones and metals Riv’s family mined for him.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Patient, meticulous in his work – he is an excellent smith; working both with large stones for the building of things and with smaller precious and semiprecious gems for use in adornment. He is skilled in metalworking, though his taste runs to those small castings within which he can set his jewels. Does not like change – it’s too disruptive to his need for long periods of time for his work.

Loyal to his family and kin; loyal to the Elves of the Gwaith-i-Mirdain with whom he’s had the opportunity to work and share smithing skills.

Not quick to anger; but when the fires of anger are lit at last, they burn hot within him. He can be a bloodthirsty and avenger of wrongs against kin and friend. He despises Orcs for slaying Dwarves and taking their possessions and homes. Even in battle, he is a patient man, looking always for the most thrifty way to eliminate the foe.

His main weakness is his need to protect his immediate family. At the age of 98, he was fortunate enough to be married. He counts his wife, Unna, more precious than any metal or jewel he can mine. And more precious still is his son, Leifr, 5 years old.

HISTORY: (At present it is II 1695 for the start of the RPG) Riv was born in Khazad-dûm, which was then under the Kingship of Durin II and is now ruled by Durin III. His father is Viss Stonecut; mother, Svala Bronzeeyes. He learned the art and craft of mining stone and metal from his father, whose main business was the mining and selling of metal ore to smiths of the Elves and Men. From his grandfather, Aunn Stonecut, Riv learned the skills for discovering veins of precious gems, cutting them into the shapes which best showed off their faceted beauty, and the setting of the gems into gold and silver. He has since increased his knowledge of this process through his friendships with some of the Elven jewelsmiths in Eregion.

He has a younger sibling, a brother, Skald, five years younger than he. His favored skill is that of working with large blocks of stone for building, and the engraving of such stones with runes. His youngest brother, Bror, is 64 years old.

In II 1693 Sauron was bent on obtaining for his own use the sixteen Rings of Power he had helped the Elves of Eregion to make. He declared war on the Elves who would not relinquish to him the Three Rings of Power they had made in secret without his aid.

Until that time, it was for the most part peaceful. the Elven jewelsmiths in Eregion prospered and increased their skills many times over. But when they refused Sauron’s requests for the Three Rings, a great shadow crept over the land, even to the West-gate of Moria. Orcs and other foul creatures were set against the Elves at Ost-in-Edhil, the chief city of Eregion where the House of the Mirdain stood. Sauron revealed himself, his fair face he had shown to the Elves as Annatar was now one of darkness and wrath. He was bent on destroying the Elves and whoever stood in his way as he pursued the three hidden rings.

Durin III was the first of the Dwarven rulers to receive one of the seven rings Sauron had helped forge. Celebrimbor, it was said by the Dwarves of Moria, had gifted their King with the ring just prior to Sauron’s demands for the Seven Rings made for the Dwarves and the Nine made for Men.

Fearing for the life of his son, who was but two years old at the start of the war, and for his wife who is now pregnant with their second child, Riv has geared himself up for war. The chain mail and plated guards for the limbs were taken down and cleaned and mended. His mattock he’s laid aside to use only if the Orc armies enter Moria. The edges of his war hammer and pole axe have been made keen. Unna and Leifr have been made safe in the deeper, secret caverns of Moria, along with the other women and children.

He and his brothers, Skald and Bror, are part of a small armed party of Dwarves, one of many, who harry the Orcs with their strike-kill-and-run tactics. At times, too, they are sent to the eastern entrance to Moria. There they lead small troops of Elven warriors from Lothlorien on the quick route through the mountains. These Lorinand have been sent by the Lady of the Golden Wood to aid the Elves of Eregion. She is favorable to the Dwarves, knowing that they were not of the kin who slew Thingol in his own treasury when he would not give them the Nauglamir. Celeborn, however, bears them great enmity, holding all dwarves responsible for the death of his father’s uncle.

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Piosenniel's post

. . . The world was fair, the mountains tall,
In Elder Days before the fall
Of mighty kings in Nargothrond
And Gondolin, who now beyond
The Western Seas have passed away:
The world was fair in Durin's Day . . .

Supper, taken late as was the Stonecut custom, was done. The trenchers, already carried to the kitchen, clanked together in the soapy water as Unna washed and rinsed them, and piled them on the counter to her left to dry. Her back was to the oaken table across the length of the stone floor. And she smiled as she heard the off-key bass of her husband’s singing voice rise up to sing a verse of the song.

‘Fairer yet,’ she chuckled as she took up her dishtowel and dried the spoons, ‘if the notes in this part of Khazad-dûm were more harmonious!’

‘I heard that, woman!’ cried Riv, breaking off mid note. His scowl was short-lived as she laughed aloud, her voice ringing within the tall-ceilinged room.

‘Well, I think you have a nice voice, Papi,’ chirped Leifr, coming to sit on his father’s lap. He twirled his fingers round Riv’s braided beard, leaning against him with a contented sigh. ‘Grandma says you sing just like your father did.’

Riv’s chest puffed out at the compliment and was promptly deflated by Unna’s laughter as she recalled to him that the old woman had also said she was certain that Durin was called ‘the Deathless’ because her husband’s bellowed verses could raise the dead from their thick stone tombs.

An hour or so more of friendly, familiar banter, accompanied by the sound of Bror’s harp and interspersed with more singing, came finally to its end. Leifr was yawning by then, barely able to keep his eyes open. Riv picked up the boy where he lay half drowsing on a bear pelt near the fire and carried him off to the deeper caverns where Unna and the other Dwarven women with their children stayed.

The lamps were turned low along the hallways; the lamp swinging from Unna’s hand as she walked beside her husband cast odd moving shadows along the carven stone walls. Her face was wistful as they reached her apartments. Laying Leifr down gently on his little bed, Riv drew the quilts up over his son’s shoulders and brushed a stray hair back from his little face. ‘Mahal keep you!’ he whispered to the sleeping form. He stood then, and took his wife gently into his arms. ‘When this is over . . .’ he said softly, his cheek against the top of her head. She pulled back and laid her first two fingers against his lips. Her glittering eyes held hope and patience within their deep, dark pools. ‘We will wait,’ she promised him, ‘whether the time be short or long.’

She urged him gently toward the door. ‘You must go. Your brothers and Uncle await. There is news to be shared among you. Reports and rumors of goings on in the upper caverns come to us. We know a messenger has come from the Elven smiths. And that an escort is needed for the Elves who will come from the east, sent by the Lady of the Golden Wood. Since your father was often among the Lorinand, bringing them jewels and metals as they needed, I thought that surely you and your brothers would be the ones to fetch them from the Dimrill Stair and bring them through the East-gate.’

He nodded it was so. Smothering her with a last great hug, he turned reluctantly from her and made his way back to his dwelling. Skald and Bror were waiting at the table where he had left them. Their voices were low as they sipped at their mugs of ale, discussing, he was sure, the preparations for the thirty mile journey to the East-gate and the wait for the Elves of Lorien. Orin, their Uncle, had arrived, too, he saw.

‘Well, what have I missed?’ Riv said, fetching a mug for himself from the cupboard. He topped off theirs and filled his from the skin of ale that hung from the peg on the wall. ‘We’re taking a full complement of weapons . . . yes? No telling how long it might take the Elves to make their way up along the Celebrant and cross the valley. Or what might try to follow them.’ He took a deep drink from his cup. ‘There have been reports of Orcs sniffing about the Kheled-zaram. Or so I heard.’ He banged the metal mug down on the table’s top, a little ale foam splashing over the side. ‘Love to set my mattock in a few of their skulls and pick out what passes for brains among the filthy creatures . . .’

[piosenniel]

Dwarves of Moria


Arry's character

NAME: Skald Stonecut (Riv’s younger brother)

AGE: 104 (5 years younger than Riv; born 1 year after the Three Rings were made by the Elven smiths)

RACE: Dwarf – one of Durin’s Folk/Longbeard clan

GENDER: male

WEAPONS: Mattock; for battles in larger, more open spaces, he bears an oak hafted pole axe with a razor sharp edged steel head. Iron helm embossed with runes; long chain mail; thick boiled leather vest; plated arm and leg guards, like his brother.

APPEARANCE: 5’1”; 145 lbs. A little shorter than his brother and of a more wiry build. Thick, brown hair worn in two plaits down his back; they are bound together at their end with a leather thong. Thick beard, worn in two braids on either side of his chin. Dark brown breeches, tan tunic. thick brown leather belt with loops hanging from it – he carries some of his hammers and other tools in it. Black leather knee high boots, well worn, thick soled. Granite grey, hooded cape,

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Like his older brother, he is a patient man – both in his work and in his relationships with friends and family. He is an excellent smith; working with large stones used for columns, doors, staircases, walls. He enjoys figuring out how to make the blocks fit seamlessly together. His artistic needs are met in the carvings he does to decorate stonework. He is especially fond of working with runes and embellishing them. He is an adequate metal worker, but really would like to leave that sort of work to other Dwarves with more skill.

Like his brothers, Riv and Bror, he is loyal to his family and kin. He has not had much dealing with the Elves of Eregion, save for the trips he has made with his brother to sell the gems and ore their family mines, but he is willing to accept his brother’s favorable assessment of them.

He is even less fond of change than Riv. Anything that disturbs his routine can make him peevish. Having said that, he is more quick to anger than his brother.

Skald is not married, though he is at the right age to do so. A lack of available Dwarven maidens is the reason, plus the fact that these are times of great unrest and the thought of bringing a child into such troubles is undesirable.

He is very fond of his nephew, Leifr, and will often take time from his work to teach or entertain the lad. He has some banked pride that the boy is interested in runes and how they spell out words. Skald has made a small set of chisels and a little hammer for his nephew, and often Leifr will be found banging happily away on a small stone scrap as his uncle works. Unna, Riv’s wife, is fond of her brother-in-law and he has a room in their apartments and takes their meals at her table.

One of his talents apart from the arts of stonemasonry and carving is the composition of poems to celebrate their clan’s history.

HISTORY: Much the same as Riv’s, except he was apprenticed to one of the Dwarven stone masons of their family and then to another who specialized in the carving of runes on stone.

Between carving and building projects, Skald still travels with his father to the Vales of the Anduin, trading with those settlements of men there.

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Arry's post

Skald leaned forward in his chair, his chin planted firmly on his fist. The fingers of his right hand drummed quietly on the table top as the others spoke of war and killing. His dark eyes were troubled with news he’d heard earlier that day. Not wanting to frighten Unna and Leifr he’d waited to share what he had learned until they were safely away in their quarters.

Before Riv could answer Bror's question, Skald spoke up.

‘Want to know the interesting . . . no, make that disturbing . . . morsel I picked up from the King’s guard today? . . . And from Father, too.’ Riv and the others looked at him expectantly.

‘Father was speaking to the King. About some special delivery of stones . . . no, not now but way back . . . before we were twinkles in his eye I think. Anyway, they were for the head of the Jewelsmiths’ Guild, Celebrimbor . . . and a shipment of mithril, too . . . some very high grade stuff.’ He leaned even further across the table, his voice dropping low. ‘Apparently the Elves used them in some big secret project, according to one of the guards. He said Durin opened his locked iron chest and took out some small carven box. He and Father had their heads together whispering about the object in it. Whatever it was it gleamed brightly when the light caught it for a moment. Then the King locked it away . . .’

Before they could hiss ‘And . . .?’ at him. Skald went on.

‘Well, I asked Father about it. At first, all the old man would do was shake his head, his fists clenched. They were fools, he muttered, looking into the distance past me. Damned, silly fools! he said angrily. Father said there was someone whom the Jewelsmiths placed their trust in . . . someone who taught them some special skills in the art of smithing.’ Skald’s throat was dry from talking and he paused, taking a long pull at his mug.

‘And now the Elves, the King had told Father, had done something to displease this teacher of theirs. They have something that he wants badly and he’s bent on getting it. And what’s worse apparently he’s not the kindly, gracious fellow they thought him. He’s got the force to back up his words. That’s what the Orcs are doing all stirred up and starting to cause troubles.

‘When I asked Father who this fellow was, he grew red in the face and spat on the floor. Mahal take the deceiver! he growled. Calling himself Aulendil! . . . Why, he left Mahal’s service long ago . . . taking after that black-hearted Master . . .’

Skald took another sip, the alefoam glistened on the tips of his thick mustache. ‘The old man ranted and raved for a bit . . . you know how he can go on. I was trying desperately to piece together the dribs and drabbles of information I’d eked out from him. Finally, in desperation, I shouted “Hey!” at him as loudly as I could. Got his attention, it did. Quiet little Skald yelling!’

‘Look, I told him, Riv and Bror and Orin and me along with a few of others of us have been asked to escort some Elves from the Lady of the Wood, under the mountain and out to Ost-in-Edhil. Armed Elves. And there may be more coming through. Sounds like it’s more than just some polite visit from one land to another. What are we getting into? Who’s this person you keep cursing at?’

‘Well, I have to tell you what he said next nearly unbraided my beard!’ Skald rubbed his chin hard with his hand, a familiar nervous habit on his part.

‘The Dark Lord! Father whispered, not wanting to name him out loud.’

‘The Dark Lord! I squeaked . . . yes, I’m not ashamed, I squeaked . . . you all remember the horror stories of the great battles against him and his Orcs and worse . . . before Beleriand fell under the waves. Anyway, I managed to stutter out the question that was now burning in my mind. The Dark Lord had escaped from where The Great Ones put him and was back?’

‘Not him, Father said. . . . but just as foul . . . his bootlicking, black-hearted-as-his-Master, servant . . . Sauron . . .’

‘ “Sauron!” I managed to say in a mangled yelp. I remember dreadful stories about him’

‘Yes, Sauron. He’s got himself a dark place between the Ash Mountains and the Shadow Mountains, the King’s told me. And he’s stirring up the foul spawn his Master made. Orcs and who knows what other fearsome beasts. He’s coming for something the Elves have hidden away . . .’

Skald’s voice drifted off into the silence of the room. His hands were clasped tightly about his mug and he stared into it as if it held the secret to keeping his sense of dread at bay. He looked up at his brothers and uncle . . .

[piosenniel]

Dwarves of Moria

Folwren's character

NAME: Bror Stonecut

AGE: 64 (45 years younger than his brother Riv, and 40 years younger than Skald)

RACE: Dwarf – one of Durin’s Folk/Longbeard clan

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: When hand to hand in combat, so to speak, he uses a short, shafted axe with a wide axe head on one side and on the other, a four inch, sharp spike. When out of range, he enjoys the use of smaller, lighter axes which he has learned to throw rather accurately, and when out of that sort of fighting range altogether, he has an excellent hand with a small bow.
Iron and leather helm, long and short sleeved chain mail, thick, leather vest.

APPEARANCE: Somewhat short next to his brothers, four feet eight inches, and still small in build and stature, maybe making 110 pounds. (Okay, pause here, if this is too light, then tell me. I'm trying to figure out the stature of a small, young dwarf, but Tolkien, as far as I can tell, never gives you weights, and all I have to go by in comparison is my little brother, who's two inches taller than Bror, but is only 65 lbs.) His hair is brown with a hint of red in it, barely long enough to braid in the back, and his beard isn't long enough at all, though it does reach his collar.
Boots that come to his knees, and a green cloak and hood over all.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Unlike his two older brothers, Bror has something of a quick and fierce temper, but it can generally be settled down before too long, and is without a great store of patience. Any real anger that stays and burns quietly is difficult to waken, though he does have his limits. He is, however, pretty easily befriended and on the most part is cheerful.

Change doesn't bother him very much and he loves the sort of adventure of going out and slaughtering orcs, having learned to hate their very name (perhaps he took the stories a little too personally and to extremes). He takes particular interest in the making of weapons - axes, swords, arrow tips, and what ever else - though he doesn't have the patience to make armor, or chain mail. He managed to get an apprenticeship with an Uncle, a sword smith, and he works with him when he's not out with his two brothers on a scouting party.

Whatever time he does not spend at the smithy, or in a scout troup, he often uses on learning how to play the harp. The instrument that he plays is one that his mother's great grandmother crafted, and is a beatiful instrument. Most people are surprised that he has been able to continue playing and learning without loosing interest, but music seems to mean something to him, although he can never quite put it into words. He would not call himself very good at it, though he is better than some.

He holds a certain respect for his older brothers and almost nothing can make him angry faster than an insult sped their way. He also is rather protective of the rest of his family. He loves his sister-in-law and Riv's young son and was very much disappointed when they were taken back to the safer caves.

His main weakness is not staying focused on the job at hand and letting his mind wander...and his next main one would be getting mad too fast. (Hopefully Riv will be there to calm him down when he needs it.)

HISTORY: Assuming that this is the year II 1697, Bror was born in 1633 in Moria, then called Khazad-dûm, if I am not mistaken. As often as he could when he was a youngster he would find the smiths that made weapons and armor and would watch them until someone came to fetch him back home again. He hasn't seen much of the outside world, still being young, but he intends to, in time.

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Folwren's post

Bror sat silently, plucking with less heart at his harp as he watched Riv take his wife and son away. They passed from the room out of sight and he sighed and tilted his head a little towards the smooth wood of his instrument. He lifted a second hand and once again the chords sang sweetly, though somewhat sadly.

“I wish they didn’t have to go back there every night. We hardly see them anymore,” he said quietly. A hand clapped him on the back and he looked up over his shoulder at Skald, his older brother.

“Cheer up and put the harp away, we’ve got business to discuss.”

Bror got up from the table and took his harp away a few paces and set it on a chair, possibly to be picked up later. He returned and took his seat again as Skald rose and gathered mugs and a skin of ale to wet their throats while they talked.

He had just sat down again when their Uncle Orin entered. A smile came into Bror’s face and he got up again.

“Good evening, Uncle!” he said. “Take that chair, and I’ll get another...How are you?”

The general formalities were swiftly dealt with and for a minute, the three of them sat together in silence. Bror could not stand that for long. What they had to talk about had to do with orcs, and of all creatures, he thought he hated those the most.

“What do you know of this business, Uncle?” he asked, turning to Orin. “I don’t know how much you have heard.”


“I know no more than the little I have heard from gossip,” Orin replied.

“That’s probably not very much, since there is little known,” Bror said. “All that I’ve been told, and I hope that I hear more tonight,” he added casting a glance towards Skald, “is that a company of dwarves are needed at the East Gate to escort a number of elves through Kazad. War’s brewing, evidently, and though we’ve only heard whispers of it, they are getting louder and the rumors are taking shape into ravenous villains who need slaughtering. It’s rather serious, by all accounts.”

Orin lowered his head towards his mug and Bror and Skald both turned their ears towards him to catch the words he muttered to his ale.

“How have I been in the dark for so long?”

“Because you’re always locked up in your room working on who knows what!”

The three dwarves at the table turned quickly to see Riv walking towards them. He gave them a smile as he passed and got himself another mug from the cupboard and a second skin of ale. He came back to the table and pulled a chair up next to Orin, filled their mugs and then his own, held it between his two hands and looked at them seriously.

“Well, what have I missed?” he asked immediately. “We’re taking a full complement of weapons...yes? No telling how long it might take the Elves to make their way down the Stairs and cross the valley. Or what might try to follow them.” A pause while he took a deep drink of his ale. “There have been reports of Orcs sniffing about the Kheled-zaram. Or so I heard.” He banged the metal mug down on the table’s top almost violently and Bror started slightly. “Love to set my mattock in a few of their skulls and pick out what passes for brains among the filthy creatures,” he said, giving his youngest brother a grim smile.

“Yesssss!” Orin exclaimed with evident excitement and obvious agreement. Bror shifted his eyes from his brother to his uncle.

“So, this is more serious than I imagined. I had no idea you all hated those orcs as much as I did. You were always the ones telling me to calm down and quit shouting that I’d kill a whole regiment.” He turned his dark eyes back to his oldest brother. “Is that what we’re going to do?”

[piosenniel]

Dwarves of Moria

Boromir88's character

NAME: Orin Bronzeeyes

AGE: 205 years old. (One of the eldest of the dwarves still left in Moria).

RACE: Dwarf, Durin's folk/Longbeard clan.

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: A, two-handed, double-bladed, battleaxe he uses for tight, cramped areas. A small one-handed iron axe used as a secondary weapon.

APPEARANCE: 4'11, rather short compared to other members of his kin but he more than makes up for it. Over the years Orin has packed on a few extra pounds as well. He has a long greyish/white beard that reaches down his thighs and braids his pure white hair into one LONG ponytail. He can still wield an axe better than most and his age and plumpness have no effect on his endurance when he gets into a rage. Orin is not one to trust to armor, feeling as it slows him down (or maybe it's just become more of a burden). He does wear a mail hauberk crafted by himself. He also carries a wooden shield with a rune only he understands.

PERSONALITY-STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Orin is feared as one of the best when it comes to wielding an axe in battle. Often when he sees orcs (or some foul creature) he builds into a maddening rage and you can hardly tell he is 205 years old. There lies his biggest weakness. He is lightly armored compared to the other dwarves, although he will never admit it, heavy armor becomes a burden to him. Also, with his growing age he has lost a lot of the speed in his attacks that his young nephews still have. However, his elogance and efficiency, when wielding a weapon, makes up for it.

Orin is a strong believer in family and strong bonds with his kinsman. He would put the life of any of his fellow dwarves above his own. The problem is if you aren't one of his kinsmen, or a family member, he finds it hard to trust you or make friendships. He often remembers prior feuds and has trouble forgetting the past (unless you happen to be another dwarf). If you are one of the few Elves he respects then you would be grateful to have Orin at your side, but if not, then it's just best to stay out of his way.

HISTORY: Orin was born 98 years before the forging of the three elven rings. He is one of the oldest dwarves still left to defend Moria. For most of his life Orin just spent most of his life learning the fine art of craftsmanship from his father, Frorin. He has never married, and has no children, but does have three nephews (being the eldest brother of their mother); Riv, Skald, and Bror. With no family of his own Orin has often tried to look after his nephews, whenever he could.

Orin has lived to watch the two eldest brothers to grow up and become fine, stout dwarves. He now focuses mostly on the youngest, Bror, realizing that sometimes he has a quick temper, and can get him into some trouble. He feels that Riv and Skald are old enough now that they don't need his guidance much anymore, but that doesn't mean he cares for one more than another. He simply recognizes Bror's anger and tries his hardest to guide him and would not able to cope with the possibility of failure.

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Boromir88's post

Orin was well aware of the rumor of the gathering of orcs, but he was not prepared on leaving, and had no intentions to. He sat fiddling with his double-bladed battleaxe wondering what this meeting was going to be about. Most of colony had heard the whispering of threats from orcs and other dark creatures. Perhaps it is just to confirm the situation, he thought.

While Orin was deep in thought he had not noticed that he cut his thumb on his axe. He smiled as he was pleased it was still sharp and if the rumors of orcs were true they aren't getting through Moria without a fight. Then it suddenly came to him, a poking pain in his thumb. It wasn't a serious cut, but it felt like one of those annoying papercuts; a sharp pain for days.

Orin cleaned up his cut, grimacing a bit while doing it, and decided he should be heading off. When he got there his two younger nephews, Skald and Bror, were already there, but he had not seen Riv yet. That is odd he mumbled. He greeted his two nephews with friendly hugs and went off to sit with some of the older dwarves. He wanted to see what they knew about the matter. Most of them knew just as much, or less than Orin, which wasn't much. He ran into an old friend, Fawrin, who was full of the latest rumors.

"They say a man named Annatar, who was once a friend of the elves, has turned against them." Fawrin began. "He is beginning to gathering a large force of orcs to launch an assault on Eregion."

Orin stood and pondered these "rumors," and wondered if there was any truth in them at all. "Who was, or is, this Annatar?" Orin asked.

"I don't know. All that's said is he was once a friend of the elves. Why he would all of a suddenly want to attack them is beyond me." Fawrin said.

"If he is attacking them, you mean." Orin chuckled. "Don't put faith in the whispering of the outside world. Especially if they are dealing with elves." Orin said elves in a sarcastic, demeaning way, for he did not like them very much. Except the elves of the lady of the Golden Wood. Her and her people had often had good relationships with the dwarves. Now that his mind was off elves, he still wondered where Riv was. "Have you seen Riv?" He asked Fawrin.

"No I haven't," he answered. "but I haven't gone looking for him either." They both laughed. "Well I better be off. Someone has to do the rumor spreading." Orin chuckled again as Fawrin left. He had always like Fawrin for his humor and ability to bring a smile to someone.

Orin sat down next to Bror and Skald and began to discuss the situation. Orin began to realize that the rumors weren't just rumors anymore; war was threatening and it would surely effect everyone.

"How have I been in the dark for so long?" Orin said to himself, but the others heard him.

"Because you're always locked up in your room working on who knows what." Laughed a familiar voice. Riv had finally come. He greeted everyone and took a seat, as well as getting a mug of ale, and got right into business.

‘Well, what have I missed? We’re taking a full complement of weapons . . . yes? No telling how long it might take the Elves to make their way down the Stairs and cross the valley. Or what might try to follow them.’ He took a deep drink from his cup. ‘There have been reports of Orcs sniffing about the Kheled-zaram. Or so I heard.’ He banged the metal mug down on the table’s top, a little ale foam splashing over the side. ‘Love to set my mattock in a few of their skulls and pick out what passes for brains among the filthy creatures . . .’

"Yesssss." Orin shouted in a bellowsing voice that shook the hall. The mumblings of war and Riv's talk had inspired him.

[piosenniel]

Elves of Lórien


Seth Cotton's character

NAME: Vaele Andarion

AGE: 1,268

RACE: Elf of Lorien

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS : Vaele carries a fine, carved long bow which he is very accurate with. The bow as engraved runes and is of very good quality. It was a gift from his father and therefore means quite a lot to Vaele. He also has a short sword attached to his leather belt which he uses at times for more close combat.

APPEARANCE: A lithe and elegant elf and has blonde shoulderlong hair with thin plaits on the sides that stretches all the way down to his shoulders as well. His clothing that he bears seems rather simple, but it offers more protection than it seems to. He wears a woven shirt with wristpads, shoulderpads and a thin armourplate on the stomach. Due to his need of staying flexible at all times, his armour must not weight him down. He has a dark green woven robe that gives him a splendid camouflage in trees, and in forest terrain in general actually. The rest of his outfit is pretty standard, elven light boots and typical pants with no remarkable protection, as he after all is a marksman.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: A quite laid back and calm elf, even in the most pressured and hasty situations, he somehow remains cool when many others panic. He often says that his brain is more powerful than his bow when it comes to fighting in a war, and at times it seems hat he is right. He takes advantage of the situations, the terrain and things around him to do what he has to do. Either it is about defeating a foe or bypass obstacles in his way.

He has a lot of honour and pride, and he is definitely not an elf to insult. Because insults is something he doesn't take lightly. This pride is nothing that really shows on the calm surface of his, but it is noticeable when talks, always adressing people with respect which is a way for him to show that he is honourable, acts or is being insulted. At verbal confrontations he is very quick to reply to comments about him, still with a calm intention, but his way of keeping his pride on top is obvious.

HISTORY: Vaele lived peacefully in Lorien, being trained as a marksman with a clear talent for accuracy and speed with the bow. He has become more and more skillful over the years of training in the forest, practicing his silent movement and sharp hearing which appeared to prove useful to him later in his life. He longed to prove himself worthy after all the training he had went through, and one day his chance came. To aid Eregion at all means.

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Seth Cotton's post

Vaele took up his bow, felt its weight. He nodded for himself and placed the fine longbow on his right side and let it lean against the wall as he took up the rest of his needed equipment. His quite weak breastplate was filled with memories, he sighed as he put it aside in the pile of “Necessary Things”. His longbow, arrows, breastplate, leather armour pads for both legs and arms and his hunting knife were all in the Pile of Necessary Things. As well his backpack with some bread and small, chopped pieces of fruit.

His sister came in, all dressed in white and golden hair. She walked in without a sound and kneeled down on the floor beside Vaele. She stroked him over the forehead and he turned his head slowly over to her and met her gaze. She looked sad, but Vaele knew that she was doing her best to hide it.

“I will come back sister.” He said and forced himself to smile.

“Be careful. I will not stand losing another brother cause of some meaningless fight.”

“I promise you I will return.” Vaele answered and rose up from the floor and began to strap on the armpads. As he came to the strapping on the breastplate around his back his sister helped him.

“Be brave Nilwèn, do not despair because of me. It will not help to griev.”

His sister rose up as well, her cheeks were red. “Do not play a hero!” She exclaimed, almost yelling at him with her lightest voice. He saw that she began to shiver, probably she cried but Vaele was not sure. Nilwèn ran out of the talan and Vaele stood in the middle of the room and looked with sad eyes after her. Vaele growled and took on his robe. He tried to ignore her and her emotional burst, instead focusing on what he had to do. He was not to let this interfere. His fingers nibbled on the robes silver clasp. Attempt after attempt he failed to fasten it.

After a cursing the clasp and a few more attempts without any luck, he managed to fasten it. He had never been good at practical things; doing things with his hands in general. He had never possessed that skill. He lifted up his backpack and took it on. He kept his bow hanging by his shoulder and his knife in the boot. He was all set to go. He left the talan, but stopped in the door opening and looked around in the talan for a moment. It had his been his talan for ages, his sanctuary, his oasis, and now he stood there knowing that he might never return to it again.

He stood for another moment, remembering all the times he had found peace in the quite small talan. He slowly closed the door and decided to bid farewell to his father. His father met him on the small lawn in front of the talan. They embraced as father and son, Vaeles father patted him in the back as he let go. He did not say anything, he didn’t have to, his eyes said it all. He was against it as well, he had complained about Vaeles decision from the day he mentioned that he had been thinking of signing up for it.

It surprised him, he thought his father would be more understanding than that.

“Farewell father.”

“Farewell my youngest son…” He stood quiet; closed his eyes and sighed. “Stay safe”

“I will.” Vaele said shortly and began to walk to the camp for the contingent which was stationed outside Caras Galadhon. He glanced back over his shoulder and saw his sister stand, beautiful and completely silent, looking after him as he walked. Her expression on her face was a memory he never forgot.

He walked lightly and swift, thinking he was already late. The darkness came closer over the talans and he wanted to get there as quick as possible. As he got closer he saw the banners and the many tents with preparations; archers checking their bows, captains giving orders. It was a constant alarm of noise.

“Archer, you are late.” Vaele heard a voice behind him, which sounded pretty annoyed. He turned to see who it was, and as he suspected it was the commander of their contingent.

“I beg your pardon, Commander…” Vaele said and half-bowed.

“Commander Eldegon” The tall, pale elf said with a remarkable superiority in his voice. He sighed and looked at Vaele, kind of examining his possible capabilities in combat. “Good at stealth? Scouting? We need a scout in the first rank. Someone swift and silent, a good hand with bows is appreciated, but by judging your equipment and yourself, you seem to be a pretty skilled archer.”

Vaele just nodded quite baffled. The elf talked clean and unusual quick. He must be in quite a stress, Vaele thought.

“Very well, get in the first rank and prepare yourself. We will march in the daybreak.”

Vaele walked over to where he was directed, the first rank in the lead. He was quite pleased with his given position, and being a scout fitted him well. He saw another elf from the first rank ahead. He wasn’t sure wether this was the first rank or not, so he walked over and asked the elf which appeared to be rather young. “Excuse me, friend, but is this the first rank?”

[piosenniel]

Gwydion's character

NAME: Alethian Eriam

AGE:3522

RACE:Elf

GENDER:Male

WEAPONS:Second Age elven-sword,dagger of the Noldor, Bow of the Galadrim, and quiver of arrows.

APPEARANCE: 5'10", dark hair, bright grey eyes, fair-skinned, lean, compact runner-like body. Uses all senses to the utmost possibility.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Far-sighted, strong, wise, small amount of arrogance.

HISTORY: Alethian has lived most of his life in Lorien and has mainly lived his life defending Lorien from the forces of evil. Tries to help all the elves and bolster all defenses, was once an aid to the Lady Galadriel, a great honor indeed and was sent to help Elrond of Imladris in the battle.

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Gwydion's post

[piosenniel]

Elves of Lórien


Arestevana's character

NAME: Gilduin Lindorion

AGE: 1,438

RACE: Elf (Noldor) of Lorien

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS : Gilduin bears the standard of the Lorien contingent. The oaken shaft is inlaid with silver and capped on either end by a silver spike. Gilduin also carries a longbow and a quiver of arrows. He keeps a long dirk sheathed on his right hip, but rarely uses it for fighting. The dirk is of his own making, a decorative weapon with a blade like that of a sword set into the wooden handle.

APPEARANCE: An even six feet in height, Gilduin has straight, golden hair which falls to his shoulders. He is slender and has the graceful strength common among elves. His eyes, dark grey, appear a lesson in contrast against his fair skin. He wears a loose, long-sleeved tunic of light grey, belted at the waist. He also sports leggings, stivali (light boots), and a half-cloak of the same color, with embroidery in silver on the neck and sleeves of the tunic and the hem of the cape. He wears a glove on his right hand (with which he bears the standard) but the fingers are open so as not to hinder his work.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Gilduin, though well over a thousand years in age, is younger than many elves. He has a tendency toward pride, and often feels an irrational sense of superiority around others, especially individuals of other races. However, this is rarely apparent, as he is by nature withdrawn. He is slow to give trust or friendship, though when he views someone as an equal he becomes a loyal companion. His pride does not equate to confidence, and under stress he often lapses into deep thought, taking no notice stimuli of the world around him. He is filled with deep regret for past decisions, but he hides it well. Gilduin was once skilled in the delicate working of metals. He made no large weapons, but occasionally created small knives, such as his dirk. With disuse this talent faded, and his strength is now in tracking and woodcraft. He is a fine shot with a long bow, but has little skill in melee combat. If needed, he has a fair hand at the quarter-staff, but his sword skill is lacking.

HISTORY: Gilduin has lived most of his life in Laurelindórinan. For many years, his greatest wish was to join the Elvensmiths at Ost-in-Edhil. However, he doubted his own skill, and his pride would not permit him to seek an apprenticeship there. He abandoned his craft and took up the bow, patrolling the borders of his homeland and withdrawing from life for long periods of time. His outward silence could not hide his inner restlessness and regret from his mentor, an elf in the service of the lady Galadriel. Unwilling to speak to his mentor or receive advice, Gilduin left Lindórinan and wandered for years in Greenwood the Great. Shortly after he returned home, a messenger came from Eregion requesting aid. Eldegon, the commander of the contingent, had known Gilduin from years ago and asked him to join the company. Gilduin agreed and was assigned as standard bearer.

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Arestevana's post

Gilduin gazed at the sunlit trees of Laurelindórinan in silence, hearing little of the bustle that surrounded him. It had been many years since he had been so near Caras Galadhon, its protective walls extending in a gentle arc before him. Years ago they had welcomed him with the promise of safety, renewal, and fulfillment. Now they closed him out. Though he was not forbidden passage through the high green walls, he knew he could no more cross the white bridge of the Galadrim than he could return the golden leaves carpeting Lindórinan to their silver branches and reclaim the springtime of his youth.

Gilduin reluctantly withdrew from his revere as someone approached him. He took quick note of his surroundings. A stone’s throw to the north lay Caras Galadhon, its great mellyrn stretching sunward above them. Outside the city a great number of elves had gathered, many of them bearing weapons. He turned his attention to the elf who stood in front of him.
“Greetings, Gilduin Lindorion,” said the elf. “It has been many years since last I saw you. Where have been wandering?”
“In Greenwood the Great,” Gilduin replied slowly, adding belatedly, “Eldegon,” as he recalled the elf’s name. “Who calls the Galadrim to arms?”
“A messenger from the Ost-in-Edhil. We send a company to aid the Mírdain. Will you join us?”

Gilduin, caught off guard, felt himself pulling into a state of deep concentration. Though he had just returned to Lindórinan after years of roving, he needed nothing but what he had. He knew that Eldegon expected him to refuse. I do not want your pity. “I will join you,” Gilduin said at last. “Who commands the contingent?”
“I do.” Eldegon replied. If he was surprised at Gilduin’s decision, he did not show it. “What skill have you in combat?”
Gilduin thought a moment. “No sword-skill, if that’s what you mean. I have no close weapon, save my knife.” He showed Eldegon his dirk and longbow. “I’m a fair shot, and if needs be I can keep my head with a quarterstaff.”
Eldegon shook his head. “I have no need for archers. Three-score already are marching with us, and two-score swordsmen. Will you bear the standard?”
“I will.” Gilduin said, after a moment’s wondering at the request.

Eldegon nodded and led him a short ways south to a hill overlooking the wide clearing where the company was mustering. There he departed momentarily, leaving Gilduin to stare out over the many ranks of warriors. There were six ranks of archers, ten elves in each rank, and ahead of them four ranks of swordsmen. Behind the archers was a line of light wooden carts, laden with food and supplies for the march. The horses that would draw them were tethered a short ways away from the company.

Eldegon returned, carrying the standard of Lindórinan. “You said you could handle a quarterstaff. Can you keep formation while bearing a standard or polearm?” He asked, continuing when Gilduin nodded. “Good. You will march at the herald’s left, in the first rank with myself and my captains.” He handed the standard to Gilduin, who hefted it to feel its weight. The oaken shaft was straight and smooth, and the fabric of the banner, though light, was very strong.

“When do we march, commander?” Gilduin asked with a glance at the sun, which had long passed its zenith and was nearing the horizon.

“Not today,” Eldegon replied. “Tonight the captains meet with Lord Celeborn. Tomorrow we will march, or perhaps the day after.” With that, he nodded briskly to Gilduin and headed toward Caras Galadhon, pausing briefly to speak to another elf before continuing to the city’s gates.

Reluctantly, Gilduin hefted the standard in his hand and left his hilltop post, seeking out his place in the marching order. He reached the first rank and sought out the herald, introducing himself with as few words as possible and taking his place on the elf’s left. He glanced over his shoulder at the green-walled city as dusk crept over the restless company, a thin sliver of sun clinging desperately to the horizon on his right. One by one, lanterns appeared on the walls, until Caras Galadhon gleamed like a jewel, or perhaps a star which had wandered from its place in the darkening heavens. Beside him, the herald had lit a lantern, and by its light Gilduin noticed a green-garbed archer approaching the rank. He occupied himself with the standard and did his best to look busy, but the elf stopped directly in front of him.

Shying away from speech, as he so often did, Gilduin sought for the correct syllable by which to vocalize a noncommittal murmur. He wished to disappear, as did that final finger of golden sun in the face of inexorable night, as the elf addressed him.

“Excuse me, friend, but is this the first rank?”

[piosenniel]

Elves of Lindon


Envinyatar's character

Name: Ondomirë

Age: born in I 200 (310 years at the fall of Gondolin; 2080 in II 1697 when Eregion fell. 245 years older than Gil-galad; 325 years older than Elrond)

Race: Elf; Noldor, originally from Gondolin

Gender: male

Appearance: 6’ 7” (a little over 2 meters), 220 lbs (around 100 kg); lithely muscled, finely chiseled face; grey eyed; raven hair worn in a thick plait to his mid back. Wears: Light grey tunics of a soft material over darker grey breeches. Black twice wrapped, wide leather belt with a plain silver buckle. Black leather, mid-calf boots. Dark blue cape which bears on its left shoulder a silver-white brooch in the shape of an arrow head, set with a deep purple stone.

Weapons: Great bow of yellow yew wood; unadorned black leather quiver hung from his belt fileed with arrows fletched in white, dark blue, purple, and black. Plain short sword in a worn leather sheaf hung opposite to his quiver. Black leather vambraces traced with an arrow head design in silver. Long, light metal mail vest, shimmers like fish scales. Light, silvered leg guards. Silvered helm which bears a fan of purple feathers on its front piece.

Personality, strengths, weaknesses: Even tempered, reliable. Honors the Valar; loyal to the High King. Quiet, reserved man, and save for his size, unobtrusive. Keen observer of those about him. Excellent archer, having served under Duilin in Gondolin with The House of the Swallow. Adequate at blade work for close in fighting.

History: Born in Gondolin about 75 years after Turgon founded it. His family was part of the Folk of the Swallow, one of the twelve Houses of Gondolin. The Folk of the Swallow were formidable archers and served the High King of the Noldor in the defense of the Hidden City.

When Gondolin fell to Morgoth’s troops, Ondomirë escaped with the remnant of Turgon’s people and took refuge with them in the havens at the mouths of the Sirion. Gil-galad, who had become High King after the death of Turgon, was at that time also residing with the Exiles at the Havens. Ondomirë never married; he is the only remaining member of his family.

Elrond was born at the havens and later, after choosing, to remain among the kindred of the Elves, also chose to remain with Gil-galad. After the War of Wrath and the sinking of Beleriand, Gilgalad established a kingdom in Lindon.

Ondomirë pledged his fealty to Gil-galad and also went to Lindon to serve him. During his long years of service, he has grown close to the King and become a trusted advisor.

He has been sent with Elrond and a large troop of 500 Elven warriors from Lindon to assist the Elves in Eregion against the onslaught of Sauron. Ondomirë is the Captain of the Bowmen company comprised of 200 archers. At Gil-galad’s request, he serves as Elrond’s close advisor on this campaign.

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Envinyatar's post

Autumn/SA 1695

It was late in the second day of the council. The sense of urgency had not diminished, nor had the anger. ‘The King counseled the fools,’ murmured Ondomirë to himself, his head shaking at the news that Morgoth’s captain, Sauron, had at last revealed himself. ‘Annatar, he called himself. Lord of Gifts! Pah! Even now the name brings a taste of soured bile to my tongue. Were they so eager for his knowledge that they forgot the hard lessons Fëanor brought upon us?’

Many, many years had passed since the tall, fair-faced Annatar had come to Lindon, offering to teach his skills to the Elves dwelling in the High King’s lands. He’d been sent away then by Gil-galad; his offers to show how Endor, Middle-earth, might be made as fair and lasting as Valinor rejected. Since then, it was told, he had insinuated himself into one of the Elven guilds in Eregion. Teaching them his glamoured skills. And now, dread Wolf that he was, he had pounced on his prey as it contrived to oppose him. His retribution would be swift and overwhelming. Death, and worse, would come to the Elves of Eregion, to their cities, their lands. Sauron’s armies would sweep west over the King’s lands until he and his dark army stood at the borders of Lindon itself.

‘And what does he seek, I wonder?’ asked Ondomirë to himself. ‘He and his Lord always hated the Elves. But reports from Ost-in-Edhil and from Lorien imply there is more than just the wish to subdue the Elven peoples. What have the Mirdain done . . . what has the House of Fëanor done now?’

Ondomirë sat back in his chair, his eyes on Gil-galad at the head of the table as he spoke with various of his trusted captains. He could see the beard of Cirdan as the Elf stroked it, teasing hard answers from it, it seemed, with the thoughtful movements of his fingers. The bright golden hair of Glorfindel gleamed in light thrown from the jeweled lamps. His head moving in ‘yays’ or ‘nays’ as they spoke. And Elrond, his dark grey eyes thoughtful, bent over the map of Eriador, as he traced a route from The Havens to The Hithaeglir, the Misty Mountains.

A frown creased Ondomirë’s brow as he watched Cirdan and Glorfindel deferring to what Elrond was saying. The King, too, nodded his head and clapped Elrond on his shoulder. Ondomirë looked up as the King stood, announcing to the room in general now that troops would be sent to aid Celebrimbor and his people in Ost-in-Edhil. And that Lord Elrond would lead them.

‘Now that is an interesting move,’ commented Ondomirë, loud enough for the Elf to his left to hear him. ‘The King has passed over Cirdan and Glorfindel, both more seasoned than Elrond, and chosen the younger Elf to lead his troops for this battle. Why is that I wonder?’ Brows raised, he glanced at the Elf who was now listening to his out-loud ponderings. In the meantime, the King had called for volunteers to lead the various divisions of Elves he would be sending.

His eyes narrowing as he wondered at Gil-galad’s choice, Ondomirë stood, saying he would gather and captain the archers if it were so wished. ‘Best we give the stripling all the support we can, don’t you think?’ he said quietly as he sat back down.

[piosenniel]

Elves of Lindon


Orofaniel's character

NAME: Geldion (Gel-dhi-on)

AGE: 1095

RACE: Noldor elf.

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: Geldion is highly skilled with his sword, and it has always been his weapon of choice. His sword was given to him by his brother. At a glance, this sword looks like an ordinary sword, but the blade is much sharper and much lighter than one would think in the first place. If needed, Geldion has proved well with both spears and bow.

APPEARANCE: Tall and slim, like most elves. He has greyish eyes, and they are rather small in his somewhat round face. He has some rather strong features; long and somewhat rare nose, and strong- but not bushy eyebrows. His hair is often worn in a plait. In battles he wears a light armour, helmet, daggers, and of course his sword. He usually wears soft, light tunics with silver embroidery.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: An ordinary elf, but perhaps more skilled in battle strategies and tactics than most. This has not been a natural thing for him, rather a knowledge that has grown with him over the years. He has observed, watched and learned from his superior(s), especially the King and his closest followers – whom Geldion owns much respect. He has, because of this, grown to be a reliable and a loyal advisor.

Geldion is easily attached to people for better or worse. He is likeable and respected amongst his fellow elves.

Geldion likes to have big responsibilities and most of the time he carries them out with great success. He does not like the thought of defeat, or failure of any kind, and is therefore very careful when facing difficult or challenging decisions and so forth. He prefers to have some sort of control over the current situation and be updated on recent events. He is in many ways just an advisor, but he also has a great impact on those who carry out the plans. Therefore in many ways he is some sort of a leader type. Although he has never really led any sort of armies, he knows exactly which tactics that has to be used, and how they should carry out the mission. Although since this is still new to him, one cannot guarantee he won't meet some minor, or bigger, defeats. He is however, a person with strong confident in what he does, and does not easily give up. He is after all, a warrior.

HSTORY: Geldion joined Gil-Galad when he received the kingship of the Noldor. And followed him until Gil-Galad established Lindon, where Geldion also settled. Geldion is a loyal follower of his High King, and has been so ever since Gil-Galad received the kingship of the Noldor.

Most of his family were lost to him during the Great Battle. His brother mourned and was lost shortly after, leaving his sword behind, for Geldion to use.

Geldion is a close friend to Ondomirë. They met each other in Lindon when Gil-Galad established it. Both of them are to this day humble servants and loyal to The King. Geldion has therefore, much like his friend, volunteered to be captain for the swordsmen.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Orofaniel's post

‘Best we give the stripling all the support we can, don’t you think?’ he said quietly as he sat back down.

"Ondomirë, you know better, age and wisdom are not automatically connected," Geldion said under his breath, smiling at the elf, who had just gotten up from his seat to volunteer to lead the archers in the upcoming battle.

It was Geldion turn to get up. "My friend here Ondomire," Geldion started, looking back at the elf, "has just volunteered to lead one of the division," Geldion then said. "Aye, it will be the archers," Ondomirë confirmed. "It would be my honour, my King, if I could lead the division with the swordsmen," Geldion said.

The King looked at him. He didn't look surprised, but curious, or even - in wonder. Why would he volunteer for that, an elf who had not experience whatsoever with leading any force or sort of armies at all? "I know what The King must be thinking. I have not leaded any divisions before. I am merely a humble advisor. I am nevertheless, a warrior as well. I'm highly skilled with the sword, and therefore I would be honoured if the King would grant me the division of swordsmen,” Geldion finished. But just as the words and sentences had slipped from his tongue, he felt as though if he regretted it; this was no place for him. He was not able to lead soldiers into war. It didn’t suit him. He couldn’t do it; he was after all just an advisor. Tactics and strategies was his main field. He was however, a good warrior in combats. He admitted not to be as talented with the spears as with as swords though.

His thoughts circulated for a few seconds, before he opened his mouth again; “It is a task of great responsibility and it is perhaps too much for me to undertake at this point. Thus, I understand if the council wishes me to withdraw and come as a soldier only. Either way, I will do as you command, my King." He straightened his back, not looking the King in the eyes. He found himself trying to avoid the eyes of the elves present at the meeting.

The elves said naught for a couple of moments. All seemed to be in deep thought. Elrond had turned away from the map, and was now looking at Gil -Galad

"I think it only fair that you shall be the captain of the swordsmen," and elf said, but not clear or loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Indeed," another elf whispered. "You have served me well over the years," the King said. "You shall therefore lead the swordsman, but remember not only to use your skills when in battle, but also when preparing for it. You shall go not only as a Captain, but also as an advisor. Remember that," Gil-Galad said quietly. A feeling of great sensation of joy and relief reached Geldion's body and mind as the King spoke. Maybe he had been too critical towards his own abilities. Perhaps he was the right man for this task after all. The king, the man Geldion respected the most, showed confidence in him by giving him the swordsmen division, and thus Geldion promised himself not to fail or be defeated.

"Thank you, my King. I will not fail," he said and thanked the elves altogether, as he bowed. "Let us hope so," Ondomirë said, smiling at him as Geldion seated again.

[piosenniel]

Orcs of Sauron’s forces


Encaitare's character

NAME: Glûtkask, title of Boldog

AGE: doesn't really apply to Maiar, does it?

RACE: Boldog -- a corrupted, lesser Maia in an orkish hröa. For info regarding this concept, check it out here (http://www.absoluteastronomy.com/encyclopedia/B/Bo/Boldog.htm) or in HerenIstarion's excellent essay here (http://www.barrowdowns.com/articles_orcs.php). I think this race would be quite befitting of an orc captain, even though it's not an idea contained within the Sil.

GENDER: male

WEAPONS: He wears armor of metal and leather that is in slightly better condition than that of the average orc. He carries a single-edged sword which is accompanied by an axe. On his head is a crude, spiked helm.

APPEARANCE: quite large and powerfully built. Also remarkably ugly, as orcs tend to be. He's been around for a while, so he has several noticable battle scars. Mottled skin and narrowed yellow eyes.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Think of the average orc. Actually, think of a really, above-averagely nasty orc. Got a good picture in your mind? Okay, now think of an orc worse than that. That'll be Glûtkask, roughly speaking -- ruthless, foul, and always looking out for Number One above anyone else. Among his strengths are his ability to hack off the heads and stab the guts of the Free Peoples. Although it's Sauron who is the master of their battle strategies, Glûtkask didn't get to be a captain by being stupid -- he can usually get himself and/or his garrison out of a pinch.

HISTORY: As a Maia, Glûtkask was corrupted some time in the First Age. He served Morgoth, assuming his orkish form at this time, though he went by a different name. He fled after his master's downfall, laying low until Sauron began to gain power. In accordance with Sauron's efforts to promote the Black Speech, Glûtkask took the name he now bears. Because of his history of being a faithful servant (and his excellent references, as it were :D) he's garnered a fair amount of trust from Sauron. Glûtkask is not particularly interested in gaining personal power; he is relatively satisfied with his position.

~*~

+ carry-along orcs in the garrison

[piosenniel]

Orcs of Sauron’s forces


Firefoot's character

NAME: Grimkul

AGE: He’s not really sure – all years tend to run together in dark tunnels under the mountains - nor does he care. But even if he did care, it wouldn’t matter much since he can’t count much higher than 20.

RACE: Orc

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: Grimkul’s favorite weapon is a long, slightly curved scimitar which he hasn’t ever cleaned, more out of laziness than any other reason, though he does pride himself on the different kinds of blood the sword bears: Elf, Dwarf, Man, Orc, rat (and other rodent), fish, bat, and once he was even lucky enough to spear a bird. He has a wooden bow, on which is scratched all kinds of crude symbols and marks; his arrows are fletched in black feathers. He also has a short dagger and a heavy wooden cudgel, useful for bashing in heads and squashing things.

APPEARANCE: Grimkul is of a smaller mountain race, though he is rather large for that, with comparatively broad, albeit hunched, shoulders and tough wiry muscles. He is bowlegged. He has dark, splotchy skin, and what sparse hair he does have is coarse and black. His yellow eyes are accustomed to the dark and bulge out of his misshapen skull. His teeth are yellow and crooked, and not a few are missing; his fingernails are similarly yellowed and tough. His only armor is a chain mail coat, over which he wears dark breeches and a jerkin made mostly of bats’ wings crudely sown together.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Grimkul is not very intelligent and, if confused, is more likely to kill the source of confusion than try to sort the information out. The notable exception is his more intelligent companion Ulwakh; their relationship being a mutually beneficial “brains/brawn” type. Grimkul tends not to back down from a fight even when his chances at winning are considerably slim, whether because he is too stupid to realize this or doesn’t care is undecided. Luckily he is larger, stronger, and more skilled in weapon use than most of his kind. He dislikes being among the legions of Sauron’s army and would prefer to go back to the mountain tunnels in the Misty Mountains. Nor does he bear any love toward his commanders (who are generally bigger than he is), and, largely at Ulwakh’s bidding, avoids their notice whenever possible.

HISTORY: Grimkul was born in the Orc tunnels of the Misty Mountains and has spent most of his life there. This part of his life was basically uneventful: he survived off the creatures sharing the tunnels with him, fought in some small battles between Orc clans, and sometimes ventured out of the mountains in small raiding parties (always at night) to harry any living things unfortunate enough to be in the area. Several years back, however, he was part of a raiding party that had gone farther than usual from their mountain tunnels and had a run-in with a small force of Sauron’s. Those that survived (including Grimkul and Ulwakh) were driven to Mordor and integrated into Sauron’s army.

~*~

Carry-along character

NAME: Ulwakh – Grimkul’s companion

AGE: About the same as Grimkul, though he could probably give a more precise answer, as he understands numbers and such better – he could probably count to 50, and if he thought about it would be able to tell you that they were at least that old.

RACE: Orc

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: Ulwakh’s first two weapons, a scimitar and bow, are similar to Grimkul’s. His favorite weapons, however, are a variety of crooked knives with jagged edges, no two alike. These are useful for throwing, stabbing, cutting, and other more ordinary purposes (e.g. cooking, should he ever care to cook), but more interesting to him are the different ways each can provide pain. Ulwakh does not enjoy killing and fighting so much, but he finds giving pain fascinating, and his knives are useful for this.

APPEARANCE: Similar to Grimkul in complexion, though little else. He is much smaller and less strong, and his arms and legs are proportionately longer. His skull is rounder; his eyes are deeper set and an almost luminescent green color. His garments are also similar to Grimkul, except he is far less choosy in the materials for his jerkin and he wears a helmet as an extra piece of armor.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Ulwakh is quite intelligent and cunning (for an Orc, that is). He is quick and agile, though not particularly strong or prone to fight. He prefers to flee rather than fight, though he can ably defend himself (or Grimkul can defend him; it’s all the same to Ulwakh). He takes a perverse delight in giving pain, and while his subjects are usually small animals that he catches, he prefers such rarer subjects as Elves and Dwarves when he has had the fortune of a captive. Ulwakh has no desire of personal power, as he generally sees leadership roles as a good way to get killed (by followers), and in further self-preservation he draws as little attention to himself as possible.

HISTORY: About the same as Grimkul.

[piosenniel]

Orcs of Sauron’s forces


Kath's character

NAME: Olburz

AGE: Unknown

RACE: Orc - a corrupted elf

GENDER: male

WEAPONS: He carries a sword and an axe but prefers to use the strength in his body to weapons when fighting. He wears armour of metal gathered from the dead of previous battles but wears no helm as his skull is remarkably thick.

APPEARANCE: Large both in height and width. Hunches over a lot so has a slight hump on his back. Ugly as sin with numerous scars from old battles as well as his toturous corruption.


PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Follows orders though not always with good grace. A tendency to be surly to leaders has made him a little unpopular wtihin the camp but when he does do as asked he does so with well with efficiency. He is trustworthy in that if asked to kill he will do so without hesitation and with glee.

HISTORY: Captured and tortured by Sauron's servants he took to his corrupted form with relish.

[piosenniel]

PLAYER/CHARACTER LIST:

Elves of Eregion

Durelin - Maegisil
Amanaduial the archer - Narisiel Mirdain
Alcarillo - Cainenyo Nession
Nurumaiel - Erinlaer


Esgallhugwen - Fëaglin Lómë - POST NEEDED
~*~

Dwarves of Moria

Piosenniel – Riv Stonecut
Arry - Skald Stonecut (Riv's younger brother)
Folwren - Bror (Riv's youngest brother)
Boromir88 - Orin Bronzeeyes
~*~

Elves of Lórien

Seth Cotton - Vaele Andarion
Arestevana - Gilduin Lindorion


Gwydion - Alethian Eriam - POST NEEDED
~*~

Elves of Lindon

Envinyatar - Ondomirë
Orofaniel - Geldion
~*~

Orcs of Sauron’s forces

Encaitare - Glûtkask, corrupted maia in Orc form + several carry along Orc underlings
Firefoot - Grimkul + carry long - Ulwakh
Kath - Olburz

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CAMEOS - to be arranged with Durelin by PM

1.) CaptainofDespair - Sauron's Champion; big baddie

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[piosenniel]

ESGALLHUGWEN, MITHALWEN, GWYDION, ARESTEVANA please put your FIRST POSTS here on this thread.

[Seth Cotton]

Vaele took up his bow, felt its weight. He nodded for himself and placed the fine longbow on his right side and let it lean against the wall as he took up the rest of his needed equipment. His quite weak breastplate was filled with memories, he sighed as he put it aside in the pile of “Necessary Things”. His longbow, arrows, breastplate, leather armour pads for both legs and arms and his hunting knife were all in the Pile of Necessary Things. As well his backpack with some bread and small, chopped pieces of fruit.

His sister came in, all dressed in white and golden hair. She walked in without a sound and kneeled down on the floor beside Vaele. She stroked him over the forehead and he turned his head slowly over to her and met her gaze. She looked sad, but Vaele knew that she was doing her best to hide it.

“I will come back sister.” He said and forced himself to smile.

“Be careful. I will not stand losing another brother cause of some meaningless fight.”

“I promise you I will return.” Vaele answered and rose up from the floor and began to strap on the armpads. As he came to the strapping on the breastplate around his back his sister helped him.

“Be brave Nilwèn, do not despair because of me. It will not help to griev.”

His sister rose up as well, her cheeks were red. “Do not play a hero!” She exclaimed, almost yelling at him with her lightest voice. He saw that she began to shiver, probably she cried but Vaele was not sure. Nilwèn ran out of the talan and Vaele stood in the middle of the room and looked with sad eyes after her. Vaele growled and took on his robe. He tried to ignore her and her emotional burst, instead focusing on what he had to do. He was not to let this interfere. His fingers nibbled on the robes silver clasp. Attempt after attempt he failed to fasten it.

After a cursing the clasp and a few more attempts without any luck, he managed to fasten it. He had never been good at practical things; doing things with his hands in general. He had never possessed that skill. He lifted up his backpack and took it on. He kept his bow hanging by his shoulder and his knife in the boot. He was all set to go. He left the talan, but stopped in the door opening and looked around in the talan for a moment. It had his been his talan for ages, his sanctuary, his oasis, and now he stood there knowing that he might never return to it again.

He stood for another moment, remembering all the times he had found peace in the quite small talan. He slowly closed the door and decided to bid farewell to his father. His father met him on the small lawn in front of the talan. They embraced as father and son, Vaeles father patted him in the back as he let go. He did not say anything, he didn’t have to, his eyes said it all. He was against it as well, he had complained about Vaeles decision from the day he mentioned that he had been thinking of signing up for it.

It surprised him, he thought his father would be more understanding than that.

“Farewell father.”

“Farewell my youngest son…” He stood quiet; closed his eyes and sighed. “Stay safe”

“I will.” Vaele said shortly and began to walk to the camp for the contingent which was stationed outside Caras Galadhon. He glanced back over his shoulder and saw his sister stand, beautiful and completely silent, looking after him as he walked. Her expression on her face was a memory he never forgot.

He walked lightly and swift, thinking he was already late. The darkness came closer over the talans and he wanted to get there as quick as possible. As he got closer he saw the banners and the many tents with preparations; archers checking their bows, captains giving orders. It was a constant alarm of noise.

“Archer, you are late.” Vaele heard a voice behind him, which sounded pretty annoyed. He turned to see who it was, and as he suspected it was the commander of their contingent.

“I beg your pardon, Commander…” Vaele said and half-bowed.

“Commander Eldegon” The tall, pale elf said with a remarkable superiority in his voice. He sighed and looked at Vaele, kind of examining his possible capabilities in combat. “Good at stealth? Scouting? We need a scout in the first rank. Someone swift and silent, a good hand with bows is appreciated, but by judging your equipment and yourself, you seem to be a pretty skilled archer.”

Vaele just nodded quite baffled. The elf talked clean and unusual quick. He must be in quite a stress, Vaele thought.

“Very well, get in the first rank and prepare yourself. We will march in the daybreak.”

Vaele walked over to where he was directed, the first rank in the lead. He was quite pleased with his given position, and being a scout fitted him well. He saw another elf from the first rank ahead. He wasn’t sure wether this was the first rank or not, so he walked over and asked the elf which appeared to be rather young. “Excuse me, friend, but is this the first rank?”

[Arestevana]

Here is my first post.
Pio: I've noticed that my post conflicts slightly with my bio as to the matter of Gilduin's joining the contingent. Is this permissible, or is there some way for me to adjust my bio accordingly?

-----

First Post: POSTED TO CHARACTER BIO ABOVE ~*~ Pio

Gilduin gazed at the sunlit trees of Laurelindórinan in silence, hearing little of the bustle that surrounded him. It had been many years since he had been so near Caras Galadhon, its protective walls extending in a gentle arc before him. Years ago they had welcomed him with the promise of safety, renewal, and fulfillment. Now they closed him out. Though he was not forbidden passage through the high green walls, he knew he could no more cross the white bridge of the Galadrim than he could return the golden leaves carpeting Lindórinan to their silver branches and reclaim the springtime of his youth.

Gilduin reluctantly withdrew from his revere as someone approached him. He took quick note of his surroundings. A stone’s throw to the north lay Caras Galadhon, its great mellyrn stretching sunward above them. Outside the city a great number of elves had gathered, many of them bearing weapons. He turned his attention to the elf who stood in front of him.
“Greetings, Gilduin Lindorion,” said the elf. “It has been many years since last I saw you. Where have been wandering?”
“In Greenwood the Great,” Gilduin replied slowly, adding belatedly, “Eldegon,” as he recalled the elf’s name. “Who calls the Galadrim to arms?”
“A messenger from the Ost-in-Edhil. We send a company to aid the Mírdain. Will you join us?”

Gilduin, caught off guard, felt himself pulling into a state of deep concentration. Though he had just returned to Lindórinan after years of roving, he needed nothing but what he had. He knew that Eldegon expected him to refuse. I do not want your pity. “I will join you,” Gilduin said at last. “Who commands the contingent?”
“I do.” Eldegon replied. If he was surprised at Gilduin’s decision, he did not show it. “What skill have you in combat?”
Gilduin thought a moment. “No sword-skill, if that’s what you mean. I have no close weapon, save my knife.” He showed Eldegon his dirk and longbow. “I’m a fair shot, and if needs be I can keep my head with a quarterstaff.”
Eldegon shook his head. “I have no need for archers. Three-score already are marching with us, and two-score swordsmen. Will you bear the standard?”
“I will.” Gilduin said, after a moment’s wondering at the request.

Eldegon nodded and led him a short ways south to a hill overlooking the wide clearing where the company was mustering. There he departed momentarily, leaving Gilduin to stare out over the many ranks of warriors. There were six ranks of archers, ten elves in each rank, and ahead of them four ranks of swordsmen. Behind the archers was a line of light wooden carts, laden with food and supplies for the march. The horses that would draw them were tethered a short ways away from the company.

Eldegon returned, carrying the standard of Lindórinan. “You said you could handle a quarterstaff. Can you keep formation while bearing a standard or polearm?” He asked, continuing when Gilduin nodded. “Good. You will march at the herald’s left, in the first rank with myself and my captains.” He handed the standard to Gilduin, who hefted it to feel its weight. The oaken shaft was straight and smooth, and the fabric of the banner, though light, was very strong.

“When do we march, commander?” Gilduin asked with a glance at the sun, which had long passed its zenith and was nearing the horizon.

“Not today,” Eldegon replied. “Tonight the captains meet with Lord Celeborn. Tomorrow we will march, or perhaps the day after.” With that, he nodded briskly to Gilduin and headed toward Caras Galadhon, pausing briefly to speak to another elf before continuing to the city’s gates.

Reluctantly, Gilduin hefted the standard in his hand and left his hilltop post, seeking out his place in the marching order. He reached the first rank and sought out the herald, introducing himself with as few words as possible and taking his place on the elf’s left. He glanced over his shoulder at the green-walled city as dusk crept over the restless company, a thin sliver of sun clinging desperately to the horizon on his right. One by one, lanterns appeared on the walls, until Caras Galadhon gleamed like a jewel, or perhaps a star which had wandered from its place in the darkening heavens. Beside him, the herald had lit a lantern, and by its light Gilduin noticed a green-garbed archer approaching the rank. He occupied himself with the standard and did his best to look busy, but the elf stopped directly in front of him.

Shying away from speech, as he so often did, Gilduin sought for the correct syllable by which to vocalize a noncommittal murmur. He wished to disappear, as did that final finger of golden sun in the face of inexorable night, as the elf addressed him.

“Excuse me, friend, but is this the first rank?”

[piosenniel]

Arestevana

You can rewrite the section of your bio that you want to change and post it here on the discussion thread - I'll move it up to the bio for your character that I moved over from the Planning Thread.

Because I posted it, you can't go into your bio from this thread - so just copy the section that needs changing from the green on black screen and paste it to Word or to a new post box and fix away.

~*~ Pio

[Arestevana]

Thanks, Pio. I'd like to change the last sentence only, really, from Having known from years ago the elf given command of the contingent, Gilduin asked to join, and was assigned as standard-bearer. to Eldegon, the commander of the contingent, had known Gilduin from years ago and asked him to join the company. Gilduin agreed and was assigned as standard bearer.

Thanks again. :)

[piosenniel]

Arestevana

All done!

~*~ Pio

[Arestevana]

Thanks, Pio. :)

[Esgallhugwen]

PLACED W/BIO ~*~Pio

-------

Fëaglin's hammer made a sharp tinging sound as it struck the silver, flattening it into a wide band. He then took a small pair of pliers and twisted the metal to his desired effect, plaiting it along with two other strands in an intricate fashion of spirals and curves, similar to the delicate knotwork of vines.

He laughed heartily as he finished his commisioned task, a spiraling necklace for a bride to be, and nine circlets for the maids in waiting. A fellow silver-smith across the street with a bright young apprentice had made two beautiful rings for the couple. Fëaglin had been close to the furnace all day, so it was no suprise that he thought he deserved a nip of fresh air along with a nip of some fine wine.

The lean Elf cleared his work area, and set the finished silver pieces along a long table made viewable through a window so that others may admire his work, and be inspired to commision or buy some of his pre-crafted vendibles. The sun was setting as he locked up his shop for the night, and made his way into his house, just spacious enough for himself and one other. He shook the stiffness from his fingers.

But there was no other, not yet at any rate and at times Fëaglin grew heart sick in the dark of his room playing with the silver trinkets he had fashioned in his spare time in his forge. One in particular was special to him, a device of curious beauty.

Many loops of silver were strung together with subtle gems interlaced in the finery, and when one would push the outer most ring the others were set into motion, revolving around one another in a dizzying harmony. And if the light of the setting sun were to hit the gems just right an efflorescence of watery colour would sweep across the vaulted ceiling.

He had not revealed this creation to anyone, this creation of his helped to sooth his troubled thoughts and helped to clear his mind. Fëaglin was not blind to the encroaching darkness nor was he insensitive to the greater weight it was now pushing onto his Kin, threatening their very way of life.

Rumours had come of orcs along the borders and of Eregion's impending doom, but also the rumoured hope that help would arrive before all came to naught. Fëaglin hoped with all his will that that were true.

His grey eyes gazed steadily at the sword and bow hanging from the far wall, a growing knowledge came to him that they would have to be used before the end. He stood and walked down into the cellar picking a glass and small bottle of home made wine.

He made his was into the well kept courtyard and uncorked the bottle with the intention to finish it before he crept into bed under the starry sky. His head would be clearer in the morning.

[Durelin]

Thanks for your first post, Esgallhugwen. Wonderfully done.

And, much to everyone's relief, Mithalwen will still be participating in the game. :)

[Durelin]

Okay, I've figured out the order of the First Posts, excepting Mithalwen's, Sleepy Ranger's, and Gwydion's, which can all be fit in when they arrive on the discussion.

First of all: Pio, I've been meaning to change the date of 1692 to 1695 on the last division of my post. Sorry it took me so long.

I'd like to make the very first post as the Prologue only till the last division (when it says Late in the year 1692, which should be 1695). I'd like to turn what follows into a separate post.

I think I'd like this order:

The first part of the Prologue (most of it) xx
Evinyatar's Post xx
Orofaniel's Post xx
The last part of the Prologue (basically acting as just my 'first post') xx
Amanaduial's Post xx
Alcarillo's Post xx
Esgallhugwen's Post xx
Nurumaiel's Post xx

Mithalwen's Post(?) xx

Piosenniel's Post xx
Boromir88's Post xx
Folwren's Post xx
Arry's Post xx
Seth Cotton's Post xx
Arestevana's Post xx

Gwydion's post(?) xx

How does that sound?

[piosenniel]

Durelin

Date change made to your post

RPG thread has the First Posts on board

I've taken Sleepy Ranger off the RPG since he has submitted neither his revised Character Description nor a First Post by the agreed upon deadline.

~*~

Everyone

Please note Durelin has chosen Red Flows the Sirannon as the title for the game. I'll be changing the title of this thread to match it.

The RPG Thread (HERE (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showthread.php?t=12058) ) will open once Mithalwen's First Post is on board.

~*~ Pio

[Durelin]

Thank you so much, Pio.

It's unfortunate that we now only have two Elves of Lindon. A question to Orofaniel and Evinyatar: Do you think only two of you will be enough to carry along your part of the story comfortably (and without you getting bored or anything ;) )?

[Envinyatar]

I think we'll be fine. Oro's a good gamer - we'll play off each other well.

- E -

[Mithalwen]

POSTED TO GAME ~*~ Pio

Losrian passed her mentor's son as she left the workshops; she had given a swift smile in acknowledgment but although they were almost the same age (indeed Losrian was the elder by a few months), Artamir had the confidence of his rank that made her feel a lot younger, even though he always treated his mother's apprentice with the greatest courtesy.

She did not go directly back home, she had her bow with her and there was just enough light to go to the buttes for a while first. Nearly five years into her apprenticeship she was still a beginner as Elves rate such things, and with conflict threatening her skill, such as it was has been directed into the consumables of wars. However she was not downcast by her task - she knew that it would be long before she had the skill for sword smithing, and her interest in archery, and a knowledge of wood learnt from her father and brother meant that making arrowheads had a certain fascination. Her trip to the archery practice grounds was to test different designs.

She fitted an arrow and drew it back to anchor point, grey eyes focussed on the target though it was the flight of the arrow that interested her as she released the string.

"That bow is too short for you now, Lossie" said a familiar voice. Losrian did not need to turn in order to know her brother, Ferin, stood behind her. It would have been risking the next arrow through the throat for anyone else to address her thus...

"Indeed, but in current times, I doubt it will be the bowyer's priority to make a bow to fit the stature of a humble apprentice - and if you come to rebuke me, I will be home to scub floors or whatever in a few minutes". Their last private conversation had involved a thinly veiled "suggestion" that Losrian should shoulder more of the household duties to spare her pregnant sister-in-law, Laswen.

"That was not my purpose", he sighed, "I saw you by chance and thought we might walk home together- though we will all have to do more and make sacrifices unless things turn for the better unexpectedly. Those who dwell in the out lands will seek refuge in the city.... You should have stayed in Lindon, you would have been safer there".

"I do not regret my choice, for I have learned more in five years here than I would have learnt in fifty anywhere else - but here, fifty years would not be enough to learn all they might teach me ....."

"Enough, enough.... how anyone can prefer shaping metal to wood is beyond the understanding of a mere carpenter - and I do not want it explained! Let us get home and eat - and find you a floor to scrub since you seem to have your heart set on the task."

As it happened she was spared it, for once they had eaten, she had exchanged a task she hated for one she did not mind. While Laswen took over stitching the dress she was to wear at the feast to mark her fiftieth birthday shortly (her uncommon winter birthday was as much a reason for her name as her pale colouring), Losrian kneaded the bread, singing softly as she did so. She soon finished her task and offered half heartedly to take back the stitching since in Laswen's expert hands more progress had been made in an hour than had been made in many weeks, and it now looked like something that would in time become a dress rather than a random bundle of fabric, ..."unless, there is something else I can do while you sew ? " Losrian added hopefully.

"All is done for today, but I am happy to sew ..." said Laswen, and the pile of tiny garments already awaiting the birth of her child in the spring were a testament to this .."however it would give me joy if you were to fetch your lute and play while I did so since, I fear there will be little enough to sing about in the days to come.

Privately, Losrian agreed with her, and doubted that any would be in the mood for celebration when her birthday arrived. While she would be pleased by the result, hating as she did to be the focus of attention, the cause scared her as much as anyone, and so she did as she was bid and fetched her lute - a parting gift from her parents - and returned to play the simple songs she had learnt as a child, ignoring for that time the many that told of sorrow and war.

[Durelin]

Excellent, excellent first post. It was certainly worth the wait! :D

The game will be starting tomorrow, 8:30 - 9 am Pacific Time.

I hopefully will be around, and will be posting, though I need not hold anyone back if you don't see a post from me.

EDIT: Due to my desire to get the game going, and to the convenience of starting it now...the game is now open.

[Firefoot]

I'm excited. :D

Even though we didn't do first posts, should we Orcs still be writing here at the start? Or should we hold off a bit?

[Durelin]

The orcses can hop in whenever they want. Raids have already begun on the Eastern edges of Eregion, so...destroy a couple villages and mutilate its inhabitants? Sure... ;)

If you'd like to hold off, though...that's of course fine too.

[piosenniel]

The RPG is now open for play! :) :cool:

Reminders for posting to the RPG:

~*~ Please remove your signatures from EVERY post to the RPG thread, including SAVES


~*~ Please don't use icons or smileys on your game posts -- save them for the discussion thread



~*~ Please have your SAVES filled in 24 hours from when they were placed. I will give you 48 hours at the most, then I'll delete them.

~*~ Pio, Game Moderator

[Envinyatar]

Excellent!

*rubs hands in anticipation

--------------------------------------

Oro

I'll try to get a post up tonight. Ondomirë will meet Geldion at the local watering hole. :D

- E -

[Encaitare]

I suppose we orcs can post sporadically, marking our progress. Durelin, around when in the game's timeframe are we going to enter the main plot?

[piosenniel]

Enca and other bad'uns & Lorien Elves & Dwarves

Perhaps once we (the Dwarves) exit the eastern door to Moria and go down to the Dimrill Dale to fetch the Lorien Elves, we could work up a small skirmish.

Maybe the orc troops can spot the Lorien Elves as they head out of Lorien and make their way across the short distance to the Dimrill Dale and the Mirrormere. It wouldn't be too hard to spot them from some rocky hiding place on the mountains' eastern feet.

At some point, the Lorien Elves should be heading northwest along the Celebrant River which should take them right to the Mirrormere and then to the East Gate. See HERE (http://www.glyphweb.com/arda/c/caradhras.html) (Lorien is in the bottom right corner of the little map).

Just a thought . . . :)

~*~ Pio

[Folwren]

Sounds good to me, Pio. :)

How long should this conversation that is going on with the Dwarves now last? How many will we end up taking and who'll decide the last number out of the four of us talking? Bror's still considerably young and I'd say he's pretty fortunate to go on such a thing like this with Riv and Skald, seeing as he hasn't been out very far or very much...so I should imagine that he's going to be more on the sidelines when it comes to making plans. He'll give his opinion now and again, but no definite answers. Maybe later in the game when he's more sure of himself and what's going on. What thinks you?

And Boromir, my dear chap, my dwarf's name is Bror...not Folwren.

[Durelin]

Durelin, around when in the game's timeframe are we going to enter the main plot?

Essentially, the baddies are already a part of the *main plot*, though distantly. At this point, the reason they are heading east from Mordor is basically to do some *tormenting*. After we make the 'time jump' in the game, then the baddies will really enter the main plot, as the seige will have started/will be about to start. At some point before or right after the time jump, it might be that the baddies are called back from their raidings, as they prepare to assemble a large enough force to destroy Eregion and start marching across the rest of Eriador.

How does that sound? I'm open to anything.

And speaking of *tormenting*...

Pio - Great idea. :)

And please excuse my abuse of *s.

[Durelin]

Finally, I will answer this question, which I should have answered a long time ago. I'm very sorry, it kept slipping my mind.

Question: My character is a blacksmith, i.e. an iron-wright, so should he be called from now on an angdan? And Esgallhugwen's character is a silver-smith. Should he be called a celebdan? Or should we continue using the English names for these professions?

I'm not going to force technicalities, but maybe we should go ahead and say that at least when the Elves speak, they should refer to them as 'angdan' or 'celebdan'. Otherwise, I think the English names are fine, as long as no one else feels we should be technical. How does that sound?

Sorry that took me so long...

EDIT - I have been horribly inconsiderate. My post is now a Save for Aman. :)

[Encaitare]

Pio, that sounds fine to me. :) I'll put in a post or two before that to describe what's going on.

[piosenniel]

Dwarves, Lorien elves, Orcs

Let's clarify something right now -- the story line for the Dwarves is not running on the same timeline as the Elven-smiths. And neither is the Lorien Elves timeline. (Once the Dwarves and Lorien Elves travel through the mines and out to Ost-in-Edhel then we can all synchronize on the time of day, etc.)

And the Lindon Elves at present are way off in left-field somewhere . . . :)

At present - it is morning for the Elvensmiths.

The Dwarves, on the other hand, have just finished supper in their timeline and will be going the following day to fetch the Lorien Elves when they reach the place where the Celebrant River runs into the Mirrormere. It's 40 miles from gate to gate according to Tolkien. It will take the Dwarves 2 1/2 days from where they are (near the West-gate of Moria) to cross under the mountain and reach the East-gate of Moria (near the upper end of the Mirrormere).

It will also take the Lorien Elves about 2 1/2 days from the northwestern perimeter of Lorien to reach the spot by the Mirrormere where the Dwarves will pick them up.

*** So, we can take as long as it needs to get the Dwarves and Elves in position to meet, depending on what each of those groups want to cover. ***

The Orcs can either surprise the Elves as they near the Mirrormere and the Dwarves rush out to their aid. Or the Dwarves and Elves can meet and be ambushed from the hills as the group passes along the western edge of the Mirrormere heading for the East-gate to Moria.

Just surprise us Orcs - it's more fun that way!

How does this sound to everyone concerned?


------


DWARVES

I think as we travel through the mines each day, we should pick up other Dwarves to take with us. How about 20 other Dwarves? Some should be friends for each of us. (We can all invent a battle buddy - no need to write a bio for them.) That way when we meet the Orcs, some Dwarves can be badly injured and perhaps 2 or 3 die who are our friends. It should fuel our anger even more.

What do you think? Any other suggestions?


---


LORIEN ELVES - Arestevana and Seth Cotton

You have 100 Elves with you, correct? 60 archers and 40 swordsmen all on foot - + wooden carts with supplies drawn by horses.

Will it be Celeborn who leads the group this time?

What do you think about the plan for the battle before the Dwarves and Elves reach the safety of Moria? Any suggestions?

[Envinyatar]

:rolleyes:

Left field? Are we now mixing baseball and Tolkien?

;)

- E - :p

[Arry]

That sounds alright to me -- battle buddy and all.

I just saw Riv suggested Bror and Skald go ahead of the other two to raise more Dwarves for the expedition. That's fine with me. How about you, Folwren?

-- Arry

[Folwren]

I think that's alright, but if there is anything added to the RPG since last night, I've not read it and I can't right now. Mom's in a frenzy to get out of here this morning so I don't have any computer time. Nuts. I'll be back later this evening. Just do what ever, it'll probably be alright.

[Amanaduial the archer]

I've posted again... I hope that in both my posts, I have done no harm to your character, Aman.
Fine, yes. I'd rather have liked to have a chance to respond though :( Sort of at a loss now... Lovely posts though, Durelin.

As I've informed Durelin in PM already, I'm going to London tomorrow to perform in the BBC Elgar prom on Sunday (Wheee!), and won't be back until late Monday night i.e. about 12:30 am, do don't wait up, honey ;). I will therefore probably not be able to post until Tuesday; I apologise for this, and for not being able to post yet, but I've had serious amounts of rehersals over the past two weeks (last week it was up to 7 hours a day, which was....fun...), and have a concert tonight which I have to leave for in about half an hour. I'm really sorry, but I shall see you next week!

[piosenniel]

Folwren

I think the pace of the game will slow down a bit - there's always a flurry of posting at the very start.

We won't move on without you.

Still waiting to hear from the Elves of Lorien about the makeshift plans. :)

~*~ Pio

[Orofaniel]

Hello

Just came home from my little trip. Haven't had computer access for six days. Sorry about that. =/ Will catch up tomorrow, I promise. :)

Envinyatar - Oro

I'll try to get a post up tonight. Ondomirë will meet Geldion at the local watering hole.
Excellent! :)

[Folwren]

Okay, well, I'm back now from a grand day out. What fun.

I just finished reading the posts that I had not previously read and I think it would be fine if Skald and Bror went off ahead together...however, it might not be a wise decision to send out the hue and cry and I think I'll have Bror say so.

Can our dwarves not start leaving until we hear from the Lorien Elves?

-Folwren

[Orofaniel]

Filled in my save from yesterday. :)

Edited if needed. :)

Have a nice weekend,
Oro