The Fellowship of the Fourth Age (Part 1): A New Beginning Discussion Thread

[piosenniel]

Child of the 7th Age and Durelin invite you to play in their game:


The Fellowship of the Fourth Age: A New Beginning


Historical Background -- Mordor

The destruction of the One Ring and the subsequent coronation of Elessar ushered in an era of relative peace for the Free Peoples of Middle-earth. Yet, as Tolkien reiterated many times in his Letters, any victory against evil that happened in Arda before the end of time could only be fleeting and partial because of Man's "quick satiety with good".

While Gondor, Rohan, the Shire, and other lands lying towards the West enjoyed an immediate interlude of justice and prosperity, the same could not be said for Mordor. These lands had been under Sauron's governance for thousands of years, and the resulting devastation, from both a human and ecological perspective, would have been considerable. Tolkien did not leave us a detailed account of what happened in Mordor during this period, but the reader does have an inkling how bad conditions were by the difficulties that Sam and Frodo faced in their journey to Mount Doom.

Mordor faced enormous problems at the end of the War of the Ring: massive slave plantations bordering the Sea of Núrnen, marauding Orcs that could no longer be restrained by Sauron's hand, a shortage of food and water because of problems with pollution and a general breakdown in order, and the curtain of soot and ash that descended after the eruption of Mount Doom. None of these problems magically disappeared with the crowning of Aragorn. Most likely, with the vacuum created by Sauron's departure, rival gangs of Orcs and Men would have fiercely contended for power and land, much like feudal lords in the early middle ages. All of this posed a potential threat to Gondor that Aragorn could not ignore.

~*~

Historical Background -- Nature and Origin of Orcs

Few topics in Middle-earth (or for that matter on the Barrowdowns) have engendered as much controversy as the nature and origin of Orcs. For one of the most recent discussions on this topic, see this thread on Orcs (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showthread.php?t=12857&highlight=Orcs) from just a few weeks ago. If we are going to do a story involving Orcs, we probably need to agree on a few main points.

Tolkien's early writings state that Orcs were originally Elves who had been corrupted and defiled by Morgoth in his fortress at Angband. Some later writings reject this idea and instead state that Orcs were descendents of Men who had been corrupted. It's possible to find other places in Tolkien's writings that suggest some Orcs were akin to robots without souls and were literally created out of nothing by Sauron, that the earliest Orcs were descendents of earth and stone, or that some Maia took the form of Orcs.

For the purposes of this story, we will assume that the first Orcs were Elves corrupted by Morgoth but that later Men were also corrupted and turned into Orcs. It seems likely that both Morgoth and Sauron would have taken any edge they could get. We will also assume that Orcs of Mannish descent were definitely mortal, but that the original Elvish Orcs (of which presumably only a few remain) were bound to Arda until the world ends in the same manner as Elves. Elvish Orcs could have been killed in battle and would then have gone to Mandos. Their eventual fate is unknown.

A second controversy centers on how Orcs breed. Are there female Orcs? This story assumes that female Orcs exist. We would guess that, under Sauron and Saruman, female Orcs were confined to breeding colonies. Now, however, with the demise of the former, female Orcs are free to live in the same communities with male Orcs. However, it is likely that the family, as Man or Elf would definite it, simply does not exist among Orcs, at least at the beginning of this story.

A final problem centers on the nature of Orcs. Are Orcs irredeemably bad? Even Tolkien indicated he was unsure about this. This is one of the questions this story raises. No one can say what the answer is for sure, but it would be nice to think that this possibility exists.

[piosenniel]

Basic Storyline:

Despite Elessar's edict abolishing slavery after the War of the Ring, many plantation overseers in Mordor refused to comply with the law and set themselves up as independent lords. Word has recently come to the King that slaves on the very largest plantation in Nurn have revolted. While the larger attack has been quelled, a number of slave families managed to escape the plantation and join a small band of ex-slaves already hiding out in the southern mountains. Together, these families plan to leave Nurn and establish a new village in the southern reaches of the Plateau of Gorgoroth, an area with less warfare and feuding, but one that is virtual wilderness.

The message arriving at Minas Tirith requests that the Free Peoples of Middle-earth send representatives who can assist the slaves in making this wilderness journey and establishing a new village. Good fighters are needed to take charge of the march and organize the group to ward off dangers on the trail as well as those with other skills that they are lacking: a healer to care for the sick and wounded, a stonemason, a smith adept in the art of metalcraft, and a farmer to teach them how to grow crops and care for animals. Faced with this urgent request, the King decides to send out a small fellowship representative of the Free Peoples of Middle-earth who will help the slaves of Nurn achieve the new beginning they desire.

There is, however, one unexpected complication. The Easterling strongman in charge of the plantation has not only managed to provoke his own slaves into revolting, but has launched repeated and deadly attacks on a large encampment of Orcs, whom he views as a threat to his power. While the conflict between the landholders and the Orcs is common knowledge, one important detail has escaped the attention of the former slaves and was thus not mentioned to Aragorn. Though most of the Orcs gladly prepare for a massive counterstrike against the Easterling landowners, a small group has quietly rebelled and decided to leave Nurn to establish a new encampment of their own. In the course of this migration, the Orc families initially find themselves following along the same trail as the slaves until the two groups are actually thown together and face a series of crucial decisions for which neither they nor the men have any precedent.

[piosenniel]

The purpose of the story is to: have the the Mannish and Orcish refugees, along with the representative from the west, journey to a wilderness region where they will attempt to found two new communities.

This means we will know the story is over when: two new communities are established in the southern Plateau of Gorgoroth, or the refugees decide they have no choice but to wage war on each other, despite the attempts of the other Free Peoples to mediate their differences.

Starting Location: a large slave plantation in Nurn

Likely destination: the wilderness region of the Plateau of Gorgoroth

Here is a map of the area:

[piosenniel]

Timeframes:

This game takes place in the Fourth Age at around year 19

The storyline itself or plot covers 50 days. (20 days for the journey and 30 days to begin planting, building shelters, dealing with water retention, etc.)

NOTE:

The journey from the southern mountain range up to the southeastern corner of the Sea of Núrnen and then on across the Lithlad, or Ash Plain, and onto the Plateau of Gorgoroth is 200 miles. Since many would have been on foot, the group could only travel about 16 miles per day (8 hours at 2 m.p.h.). Throwing in several days for getting started plus extra days for the numerous problems encountered along the way, the journey would have taken about 20 days. The other 30 days will be trying to set up the new communities.

~*~

This game requires a time commitment of 12 weeks from us, the game owners, and from the major players.

[piosenniel]

WRITER/CHARACTER LIST


Major Characters


A. Group Sent Out by Aragorn

Child of the 7th Age (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=475709&postcount=6)
Lindir, b.1258 Age of Trees, Noldor Elf (metal crafter, scout) Radagast (Aiwendil), istar (teacher)
Durelin (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=475710&postcount=7) – Vrór Redfist, 91 y/o Dwarf (stone mason)
piosenniel (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=475976&postcount=15) – Rog, 42 y/o male from the East & Harad
Tevildo (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=475995&postcount=17) – Dorran, 39 y/o Rohan (soldier)
Folwren (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=476055&postcount=21) – Athwen, 39, y/o, Rohan, Dorran’s wife (healer)
Hilde Bracegirdle (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=476616&postcount=50) – Carl Cotton, 50 y/o, Hobbit/Bywater (farmer)

B. Inhabitants of Mordor

ORCS - MAJOR CHARACTERS

Regin Hardhammer (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=476230&postcount=41) - Ishkur, age unknown, Orc rebel (male)
Undómë (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=475990&postcount=16) - Zagra & Mazhg, about 36 y/o, Orc rebels (sisters)

Orcs – MINOR CHARACTERS

Regin Hardhammer (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=476230&postcount=41) - Ungolt, 28 y/o, Orc, (female)
Child of the 7th Age (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=475709&postcount=6) - Makdush, 35 y/o, Uruk-hai (male)
Nogrod (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=477096&postcount=73) – Gwerr, age unknown, Orc (male)
Firefoot (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=476641&postcount=51) - Grask, age 9, (male)
~*~

SLAVE ESCAPEES - MAJOR CHARACTERS

Nogrod (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=477096&postcount=73) - Hadith (aka Apples), 18 y/o, slave escapee (male)
Firefoot (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=476641&postcount=51) - Johari, 31 y/o, slave escapee (female)
Novnarwen (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=476327&postcount=45) – Aedhild, 42-52 y/o slave escapee (female)

Slave Escapees – MINOR CHARACTERS

Undómë (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=475990&postcount=16) – Brenna, slave escapee, 51 y/o (female)w/carry-alongs Gwenith, 11y/o & Nia, 16 y/o
Tevildo (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=475995&postcount=17) – Azhar, slave escapee, 12 y/o (female)
Folwren (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=476055&postcount=21) - Kwell Dunfire, 13 y/o slave escapee, (male)
Orofaniel (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=476422&postcount=47) - Liviol, almost 20 y/o slave escapee (male)
~*~

EX-SLAVES - MAJOR CHARACTERS

Durelin (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=475710&postcount=7) – Khamir, 37 y/o ex-slave (male)
Orofaniel (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=476422&postcount=47) - Reagonn, in 20’s, ex-slave (male)
Brinniel (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=477896&postcount=108) – Shae, 25 y/o, ex-slave (female)
Nogrod (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=510838&postcount=960) - Beloan, 35 y/o ex-slave (male)

Ex-Slaves – MINOR CHARACTERS

Novnarwen (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=476327&postcount=45) - Eirnar, 29 y/o, ex-slave (male)
~*~

Mordor inhabitant - ??

Thinlómien (MINOR CHARACTER ONLY) - ??? - SHORT BIO ONLY NEEDED

[piosenniel]

Child of the 7th Age's character - Noldorin Elf originally of Lindon and now of Rivendell


NAME: Lindir

AGE: Born 1258, Age of Trees.

RACE: Noldorin Elf

GENDER: Male

WEAPON: Lindir bears a well crafted blade with a cunning design of flowers and leaves engraved in silver and surrounded by an inlay of fine jewels. It is a weapon that he himself designed and forged with his own hands under the direction of his father, who was also a talented craftsman. He has had little use for this weapon since the end of the Second Age. By preference, he now uses a hunting knife and a long bow of simple, practical design in making his way from Rivendell to Minas Tirith, Edoras, or the court of Faramir in Ithilien, where he is frequently sent on various missions.

APPEARANCE: He has the face of an artist rather than a warrior, with grey eyes that hold a great depth of sorrow. His features are fine, and he is unusually short for one of the Noldor, standing just under six feet tall. His hair is black and straight, held back from his face in a single braided plait and secured with a simple leather band. His clothes are so plain and lack any elegance that some mistake him from a distance for a Man of common birth. Only an ornate silver brooch of unsurpassed workmanship that graces his shirt hints at his family and artistic heritage. This jewel at his throat is evidently a gift that Lindir holds dear, yet he does not say who gave it to him.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES:

Lindir is a quiet elf who, in the past, was driven by his love to create beautiful things: weapons, jeweled necklaces, and rings. Over the years, he has become increasing closed mouth and secretive. Lindir's fierce desire to craft objects of beauty was both his great strength and his weakness. Because of his singleminded devotion, he chose not to take a bride. After his return from Eregion (see below), however, he laid aside his skills as an Elven-smith and learned a totally different trade: that of a scout who wandered alone beside the seacoast and into the mountains, hiring out his services to other Elves and Men. He now uses these same skills in the employ of Celeborn, the master of Rivendell since the War of the Ring.

HISTORY:

Lindir’s father was an Elven-smith of Fëanor’s house: Lindir followed in his footsteps. As such, he inevitably became involved in the wars of the First Age, seeing his blades employed in fierce and bloody battles in Beleriand, as well as in the Kinslaying. After the drowning of Beleriand, Lindir had turned from the crafting of weapons to the making of rings and jewels, thinking that it might be preferable to forge objects of beauty rather than destruction. He was perhaps moved by some impulse to make amends for the sorry events of the First Age.

In the Second Age, a time when many of his earlier companions had left the seacoast to journey eastward, Lindir remained in Lindon and joined the remaining Noldor Elves who were ruled by Gil-galad Ereinion. Lindir had been among those smiths who, led by Celebrimbor, grandson of Fëanor, moved across the Blue Mountains in 750 and founded the city of Eregion under the walls of Moria. These Elves had sought to make amends for earlier evils by helping to forge Rings of Power intended to heal the ills of Middle-earth. At some point, before the fall of Eregion, Lindir had fled back to the coast of Lindon. He generally keeps the events of this period in his life to himself, discussing it with very few. However, it was at this point that he decided not to continue his work as a smith and chose to work as a scout.

More recently, in the year 3021 T.A., Lindir journeyed with his former companions to Himling in order to explore the ruins of Himring, He thought that his time on Middle-earth was drawing to a close and that he should sail back afterwards to the Grey Havens to embark into the West. At the conclusion of his visit to Himling, however, his plans abruptly changed. Maintaining that he had "wasted" too many years, Lindir left the shores of Lindon to serve Celeborn and Elrond's two sons at Rivendell, frequently acting as an emissary to the court at Gondor and Rohan and also to Ithilien. At the start of this story, he is staying in Minas Tirith on personal business to search out information in the archives pertaining to the history of the Elves in Beleriand.


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


Child of the 7th Age's character – Aiwendil(Radagast), istar


NAME: Aiwendil/Radagast the Brown

AGE: Unknown

RACE: Istar

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS:

Like his brethren, Aiwendil carries a wooden staff to serve as a tool for channeling power. This staff is crafted of gnarled wood and has many strange and wondrous carvings. In reality, he rarely employs it for any purpose other than helping him manage difficult terrain. On rare occasions he has used the staff to administer someone a hard crack on the head. However, his most powerful “weapon” is his ability to change shapes. Whether or not that skill will figure in this game, I cannot say.

APPEARANCE:

During his stay in Middle-earth, Aiwendil took on the form of an elderly Man, tall and slender but entirely unassuming. The Istar has ice blue eyes and a mop of gray hair streaked with earthen brown that tends to fly off in all directions. In inclement weather, he pulls up his hood for protection but otherwise prefers not to wear a hat. A great bird of prey, generally a hawk or horned owl, can be found perched on his shoulder or wrist, or even atop his head. Sometimes he is followed by flocks of small birds.


PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES:

From the beginning, Aliwendil was acutely aware that his powers and intellect did not match up to those of his amazing Istari brethren. Moreover, he lacked Saruman's honeyed words or the natural warmth and grace that Gandalf used to reach out and make friends. By nature shy and earnest, the Istar was not surprised when the inhabitants of Arda overlooked his presence or smiled wryly and scoffed at his seemingly simple nature.

Aiwendil is not good with practical matters. He often gives the appearance of being distracted and confused. For many years, he preferred to turn inward, lost within his own musings. Rivetting his great round eyes on some fascinating animal or tiny plant, the Istar would pour over the mysteries of the natural world, yet be totally oblivious to any Man or Elf who might wander within his presence seeking assistance. His general custom was to wander alone in the woods, far from the troubling concerns of others.

In the past year, for reasons that will be discussed below, the needs and trials of the inhabitants of Arda have become painfully clear to him. He now acknowledges that he was sent here for a reason and that he has an obligation to figure out what that reason is. Aiwendil has always been devoutly loyal to those few he admits to his heart. While his warmth and good intentions are never in question, his spirit is easily buffeted by the toughness of the world. The Istar is determined to do better in his respnsibilities to others, but the path will not be clear or easy.

HISTORY:

STRICTLY CANON: From the earliest days, Aiwendil served in the household of Yavanna helping to safeguard the kelvar and olvar of Arda and, later, caring for the living things in the Gardens of Valinor. Although he did not possess the highest degree of wisdom or knowledge, Yavanna regarded him with affection both for the tenderness of his heart and the steadfastness of his stewardship. Aiwendil was diligent in his duties and found joy in caring for all manner of living things, especially the birds with whom he claimed special kinship.

During the early Third Age, when the Shadow fell over Greenwood, Manwe summoned the Valar to counsel to consider if anything could be done. At Manwe's urging, the Valar agreed to dispatch a number of emissaries chosen from among the Maiar, a group that came to be known as the Heren Istarion or Order of Wizards. Their mission was to cross the sundered seas to the North of Middle-earth and help awaken the Free Peoples to resist Sauron's domination.

After “Curunir” (Saruman) and “Olorin” (Gandalf) were named emissaries to Men and Elves , Yavanna begged Manwe to include Aiwendil so that the kelvar and olvar would be shielded from Sauron's evil ways. When Aiwendil heard these words, he felt that doom had settled upon his head. Long years had passed since he had last walked in Arda. Its ways and people were strange to him. He loved the peaceful setting of Yavanna's gardens where death never reared its head and desired to remain there. Only out of loyalty to the Queen of the Earth did he accede to her request to depart with the other Istari in the year 1000 of the Third Age.

Before the great ship sailed, Manwe touched the mind of each Istar and said what was expected of them and spoke the names by which each would be known. Each was allotted a different task. Garbed in a hooded robe of earthen brown, Aiwendil was given the name "Radagast" which some say refers to the ruddy color of the earth. No one knows the exact words of this conversation or whether Aiwendil still remembers the path that was marked out for him.

The Istaris' task was fraught with hardship. By assuming physical bodies, the Istari set aside their natural protection. For the first time, they felt pangs of hunger and thirst and could even be slain. Confusion, fears and cares pressed down upon their heads; these could dim the wisdom they had brought from the West. Tolkien describes this dimming of knowlege as a "descending curtain". If any Istar departed from his appointed mission, the thicker and darker the curtain became.

Few in Arda recognized the true nature of these messengers, since the wizards were counseled to conceal their identity. Neither were the Istari permitted to utilize their powers to control or dominate others, but were told to walk quietly and speak softly, sowing seeds of resistance within the hearts of the Free Peoples of Middle-earth.

SPECULATIONS BEYOND CANON:

After arriving at the Havens, Aiwendil lived in isolation in Mirkwood, preferring not to witness the carnage that afflicted so many in such difficult times. He occupied his days studying birds and beasts, dreaming of the time when he could return to the Gardens of Valinor and again find peace. Yet, strange to say, the more he dreamed, the more distant the shores of the West became, as if slipping away under some hazy shadow. It was only when he visited his one true friend, Beorn the Skin-changer, who lived nearby, that he actually heard the voice of Queen Yavanna and dreamed of the white shores and far green country.

Although Aiwendil never embraced evil, he forgot why he had been sent to Middle-earth. He still bore the great staff in his right hand, but it hung lifeless, a hollow shell of broken wood. Aiwendil’s's mastery of shifting shapes and hues had been held in high regard by the Ainur, yet now he found himself trapped within his body, unable to change to another form. He could still make out meaning within the voices of birds and animals, and sometimes, on a misty night, the winds blew out of the West to clear the clouds away. Glancing up, he would glimpse a great bird of fire shooting through the stars. Part of him would remember some distant secret that he suspected was important, but the image would quickly fade.

The Istar’s activities during the War of the Ring are not reported. When Gandalf requested assistance, he helped in whatever small ways he could. Saruman came to despise Aiwendil and boasted of using him to further his own aims. At the end of the troubles, Aiwendil met one last time with his old friend Gandalf at the home of Tom Bombadil. No one knows what was discussed that day, but when the ship left the Havens on 29 September, 3021, Aiwendil was not on it.

For eighteen years, Aiwendil continued to live in Mirkwood carrying on as he had before. As his work cleansing the forest drew to a close, he made two important changes. First, he took a servant into his employ called Rôg, a pleasant fellow about whom he knew very little. The two were to become close friends. Secondly, the Istar travelled to Harad, ostensibly to track down a rare bird species. While there, a great change occurred. Aiwendil became friends with a young woman named Ráma, who came to him for advice. For the first time, he used his wits and power to help someone in need: assisting a native tribe throw off the yoke of an oppressive chieftain. In so doing he regained at least some confidence in himself as well as his ability to shift shapes.


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


Child of the 7th Age's post – Lindir and Aiwendil


The old man sat huddled at his writing desk, spluttering and fuming under his breath as he fixed his attention on the paper in front of him. The message had been written on the finest parchment. At the top of the sheet he could see the seal of the King. In his intense concentration, Aiwendil had bent his upper body so close to the letter that his nose almost grazed the tabletop. The Istar had piercing blue eyes and a mop of dishevelled hair with grey locks falling forward into his face. An owl perched on his left shoulder and occasionally leaned over to nibble affectionately at his ear.

Rereading the message for the twenty-third time, Aiwendil sat upright, waggled his finger in the air, and glared across the room, trumpeting for the attention of his friend. He directed his words at an Elf who stood by the window gazing down on the buildings of Minas Tirith. The latter was called Lindir. He wore a travel stained cloak and plain brown breeches. Anyone observing this unassuming figure from a distance could easily have mistaken him for a Mannish farmer or even a tradesman. The only telltale hint of his origin was an intricate silver brooch clasped near his throat, a piece of amazing craftsmanship passed down from countless ages before.

The Elf had initially paid no attention to Aiwendil's obvious consternation. He was clearly used to his companion's whims. Now the Istar's voice rose sharp and insistent, "It says there is to be a Fellowship to rescue the soul of Mordor." Aiwendil fixed his eyes on Lindir and grimly shook his head, "Tell me. What have I got to do with Mordor? Does this assignment make sense? I know nothing about the slaves in Mordor. Plus, this is a mission for an army of young men, not for an old birdwatcher like myself."

Lindir's response was affectionate, almost as if he was humoring a child, "But you have just spent the past hour telling me how you found meaning in Harad and had decided to stay in Middle-earth to see if you could help. Frankly, I can think of no one in Arda who needs help more than these slaves of Mordor. The conditions there are appalling. They are in desperate need of someone to guide and protect them."

"Yes, that is the problem," the Istar countered. "There is this little matter about protection. Even in Harad I did not have to face a crowd of angry Orcs."

"It is dangerous. I cannot deny that. But if it makes you feel any better, I also received an invitation from the King, not an hour before, and I intend to say 'yes'."

"You too? What are we to have.... a First Age reunion? A pack of greybeards turned loose on the worst problems in the Reunited Kingdom? At least you look to be younger and in better shape than I am, though you lack the looks of Legalos."

At this point Lindir grinned broadly at his companion. But before the Elf could respond, Aiwendil had continued, "Couldn't the King have come up with some young blood? Or perhaps Aragorn has decided that we two are expendable." There was a wisp of a smile on the Istar's face.

"Aiwendil, I am ashamed of you! Look at this list. There is no lack of young healthy folk in our party. I expect that Aragorn felt a little seasoning was needed to keep these enthusiastic adventurers from running off a cliff. And surely the slaves we go to help could also benefit from a cool, sage head. I, for one, am looking forward to this. You are going, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am going," spluttered the old man, almost sounding offended. "How can there be a Fellowship without an Istar? And you didn't think I'd let you go off on your own with something as important as this?"

"But what about your manservant, that young fellow you speak so highly of? Is he also coming?"

"That is the interesting part," mused Aiwendil. "The last time I was at court, Rôg had the chance to speak with Elessar. The King talked with him some time and was so impressed that he has added his name to the list of adventurers quite apart from my own. I cannot say why for sure. Rôg has some unusual gifts. But I would suspect it is his knowledge of Harad and the East that impressed the King. The largest group of slaves in Mordor hail from those parts, and most men of Gondor know little of their ways. In any case, whatever Elessar's reason, it is a wise choice. Perhaps Rôg will come by before we leave and let us know his decision."

Lindir raised his eyebrows sharply. "And you were the one who said you knew nothing about the slaves of Mordor?"

"Perhaps I exaggerated a bit," the Istar responded drolly. "In any case, I will surely know more a month from now than I do today. We must leave in the morning. One other thing....it would be best if there was no mention of my background or homeland. For all practical purposes, I am an old Mannish teacher who will be teaching slaves their sums and their letters."

"But what if you have to show your hand one day?"

"I'll deal with that then." With that terse answer, Aiwendil went over to the shelf, pulled down a book of maps, and began tracing out the route with his finger.


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


Child of the 7th Age’s post - Elessar


Elessar set down the letter on his desk, walked over to the window, and stared off into the distance. Here at the summit, he could look down and see the gleaming white towers and six lower tiers that characterized Minas Tirith, the chief city of Gondor. The streets were far more crowded than they had been a short while ago, since the city's population continued to grow. This was only one of the many accomplishments in the past ten years. The ancient lands of Gondor and Arnor had been reclaimed and reunited. The Hobbits of the Shire, the Elves of Greenwood, and the Ents of Isengard could be counted among the many Free Peoples of Middle-earth who enjoyed complete self government with freedom to maintain their local customs. Representatives from the king had even managed to reach a rough understanding with their long-time enemies, the Easterlings and Haradrim.

Despite the return of peace and prosperity, one troubling problem remained. Early in Elessar's reign, the king had declared that the lands of Nurn be gifted to the slaves of Mordor. This edict had proven difficult to enfOrce. In the region south of the Sea of Núrnen, most of the slaves had revolted and secured their freedom, setting up fortified villages where they could defend themselves against Orc attacks and till their fields in relative peace. In the region north of the Sea, the situation was different. With Sauron's restraining hand removed, local strongmen with armed retinues continued to repress the slaves and deny them freedom. Eager to extend their authority and gain more land, these tyrants engaged in constant warfare both among themselves and against the Orcs who roamed throughout the region. Gondor had sent soldiers to try and topple these petty rulers, and the troops had scored an easy victory. But the moment the armies were dispatched back home, another strongman emerged and reasserted control over the slaves.

Elessar had once hoped that the slaves could flee the plantations and find refuge in the fortified villages to the south. Given the chaos that dominated the area, it was very possible for slaves to slip off into the night and simply disappear. But the neighboring communities were too young and fragile, and lacked sufficient stores of food to offer a home to more than a handful of deserters. What was needed was a safe haven for the refugees to go, someplace where they could begin a new life. They could not remain in the area near the Sea of Núrnen or even on the Ash Plain to the north because of the presence of numerous gangs of Orcs. More than one group of escapees had managed to elude the dogs and posses of the slaveholders only to perish at the hands of Orcs. The slaves of Mordor were now a forgotten problem that no one had the knowledge or heart to resolve.

For the first time, however, after reading the missive, Elessar felt a tiny glimmer of hope. The letter, for all its rough and ragged appearance, had been written by a slave leader who understood the problems of his people and had some notion how to solve them. Though the message had been penned by one who could barely read or write, its meaning was unmistakable. A group of fifty slaves had raised an armed rebellion, managing to escape and take refuge in caves along the southern mountain range. There, they had been greeted by fifteen other men, the beleaguered remnants of an earlier band of run-away slaves.

Both groups agreed they could not stay in their temporary shelter. The ex-slaves were insistent that the situation was too dangerous, since brutal Orc attacks had recently become a frequent occurrence. Yet where could the refugees go? It was one of the new escapees who came up with an audacious plan to head north to the Sea and then across the Ash Plain heading for the southern reaches of the Plateau of Gorgoroth and attempting to establish a village there. The petitioner had written this letter, humbly requesting that Gondor send representatives from the Free Peoples of Middle-earth to help protect them on the journey, individuals who could also teach them the skills needed to forge a new community.

Aragorn shook his head in amazement. It was at once a bold and utterly perilous suggestion. As far as the King knew, no party had made it across the Ash Plain in recent years. Roving bands of Orcs and other outlaws made the passage dangerous as well as unnamed shadows that had been unknowingly left behind when Sauron departed the earth. At the very least, the journey would be a challenge. Even if they made the crossing, there was no certainty of success at the end. The Plateau of Gorgoroth was uninhabited, a veritable wilderness. Farming would be difficult at best, since there were no substantial bodies of water nearby.

Still, if the feat could be done, if a new community could be established, the possibilities were enormous. Freed slaves from other plantations would finally have a place to go. Aragorn conjectured that, once the village was well established, it could even send couriers back to encourage other slaves to revolt, guiding them across the Ash Plain to the safe refuge that lay beyond. Half-way camps could even be established. One village could multiply and eventually become a whole network of thriving outposts. So much suffering could be avoided! The image was simply too appealing for Elessar to resist.

The King felt a strange yearning to join the group himself. What an exciting and worthwhile endeavor it would be. But that was no longer possible, since his own responsibilities as well as the presence of his beloved wife and children required him to stay in Minas Tirith. This adventure would have to go to others.

Aragorn quietly began humming the tune of an old ballad as he wrote out the orders for each individual whom he would ask to join the group. Dwarves, Elves, Men, and Hobbits--they must all be included. This might be the last time that all the Free Peoples were called together in a common goal of such great importance. The soul of Mordor was at stake. It would take a fellowship--the Fellowship of the Fourth Age--to rise to such a challenge and guarantee a new beginning for the people of Mordor.

_______________________

Child of the 7th Age's minor character

NAME: Makdush

AGE: 35

RACE: Uruk-hai

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS:

Makdush bears a short, broad sword and a bow of yew. His skill with the sword is better than his command of the bow. His shield is embossed with the white hand of Saruman as is his helm. He wears a vest of chain mail protecting his upper body.

APPEARANCE:

Makdush is typically Uruk in appearance with dark skin, muscular legs, and large hands. He stands about 5' 10", which is as tall as many men. As one of the privileged Uruk-hai, Makdush wears a tunic and cloak that are still in relatively good shape.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES:

Makdush is fierce and cunning in battle and more intelligent than the average orc. He is used to being in charge and can be extremely disdainful of any orc whom he suspects of weakness. Priding himself on being one of the "fighting Uruk-hai", Makdush generally looks down on other orcs. Like many Uruk-hai, he gives these lesser orcs the insulting name of "snaga" or slave when speaking of them. This display of arrogance can be both a weakness and a strength. Makdush has absolute confidence in his own abilities but, by thinking himself infalliable, he can also be blind to both the strengths and suspicions of those who are under his command.

HISTORY:

Makdush was one of the chief orc commanders under Lord Saruman at Isengaard . With the defeat of the orcs at the Battle of the Hornburg and the subsequent overthrow of Isengaard, he was forced to travel to Mordor, joining up with Sauron's forces. He was not the only one to shift allegiance in this way; a number of the Uruk-hai found their way to Mordor. Although Makdush is now in charge of a small unit, he strongly resents that he can no longer yield as much authority as he did while serving as a powerful commander under Saruman.

Makdush's decision to join the rebels was entirely motivated by his desire to become the leader of a larger band of orcs. While he is not happy that the rebel band contains so many females and low-class orcs, he believes that he will eventually be able to assert his own control over these weaklings. He is smart enough to be patient. Makdush knows he must first pretend to get along with the others, while secretly building a base of support among the few rebels who are Uruk-hai. With their backing and by recruiting orcs they meet on the trail, he will eventually take over the group and enlarge its numbers. If anyone tries to get in his way, he will not hesitate to slay them.

__________________


Child of the 7th Age's post - Makdush

The sky was still dark when Makdush set out on the path to join the rebels. He had decided not to wait for the females or the other orcs, but to leave early and make his way to the meeting spot where the advance guard was supposed to be.

Makdush's thoughts centered on the battle that was expected to take place in the next day or so. He regretted missing the chance to crack open a few heads and pick up some booty. Still, there was no use staying in camp. Makdush had to admit that no matter how many men he killed in battle, the higher-ups in Nurn were unlikely to reward him in the way he wanted. With Saruman, it had been different. He had ruled over a throng of orcs.

If only the Uruk-hai had been victorious at the Hornburg, things might have turned out differently. By leaving Nurn, he could at least stop being a water-boy for the current commander's favorites. Grimly reflecting on his situation, he muttered to himself, "It's better that I die on the trail than submit to such a disgraceful fate."

As Makdush strode along the path and came to one of those rare groves of scrub trees that grew in Nurn, he spied the advance guard standing in the distance. At first he thought it might be one of his Uruk-hai comrades, since the orc looked to be the same height as a man. But on closer inspection he saw that the guard was Ishkar, nothing more than a common orc.

Best be friendly and say nothing to insult him, at least for now. He can be prickly. He fancies himself as good as a Uruk. But how a common orc can grow this tall I'll never know.

Out loud, he merely barked, "Ishkur, it's me....Makdush. The others will be coming soon. Once they're here, we need to move out at once."

[piosenniel]

Durelin's character - Khamir


Name: Khamir, ex-slave

Age: 37

Gender: Male

Race: Human

Weapons: Throwing daggers and a long hunting knife, fairly crudely manufactured.

Appearance: Very tall for a human, he stands at about six feet, four inches tall. He is very thin, mostly built of lean muscle, not having had much to eat in years. His skin, a beautiful creamy brown, is barely seen through all the grime. His eyes are hazel, with specks of yellow often clearly visible among the soft brown. His hair is thick and curly black, and is usually tied back, or sometimes let loose, with only a band around his head to keep it out of his eyes a bit. He wears a worn shirt and pants, and scraps of rough leather armour strapped over that: a pair of pauldrons, a vambrace on his left arm, a gauntlet on his left hand, and a pair of cuisses, as well as boots. He wears a vambrace and gauntlet only on his left arm and hand because he lost his right arm from just above the elbow down. So that it stays out of his way, he ties the arm of his shirt around the stub.

Personality: Khamir is a man who trusts no one but himself. He has endured so many things that have made him loathe so many, and it has only really been his hatred that has kept him alive for so long. Ideas of revenge are very attractive to him, and he believes strongly in concepts such as ‘an eye for an eye.’ Overall, he has also has a deep sense of justice, though it has been obscured slightly after spending so many years in the darkest place in the Middle-earth. He is looked upon as the leader of a gang of ex-slaves who scavenge the Ash-plains of Mordor. He is not much of a leader, nor is he very eloquent, but he is followed. He learned the Common Tongue as a boy, having been brought up in a fairly well to do household, and is not at all unintelligent. He simply chooses not to speak most of the time.

History: A Southron, born just a few miles north of Umbar, Khamir did not desire to join Mordor, refusing to ever fight alongside anyone but his fellow men. He had no love for Gondor or any of the other peoples of Middle-earth, but he was fiercely loyal to his own people, and believed that becoming Sauron’s minions was the end to the Haradrim’s power and independence. Because he would not willingly join the ranks under the Dark Lord’s command, he was made a slave when he was sixteen years old. His own father was the one who handed him over as a supposed traitor. His younger friend Beloan was enslaved along with him, as he shared the same ideals and also tended to follow Khamir’s lead in those days. He and Beloan were made slaves and worked on the plantations for several years before the defeat of Sauron. After this defeat, the two were able to escape from the plantations, along with many others; but, unlike many others, they were never recaptured. They joined up with a few other ex-slaves, and working as a team (though not always in the best of terms), they were able to scrounge up enough food and water for them to survive, if very hungrily. Mostly they are forced to and choose to steal. After he was praised for his bravery when he went even to the Mountain to look for water, the group of ex-slaves grew until he became the undeclared leader of a full out gang that set up base in the southern range of the Ephel Dûath. They make regular missions to different plantations that remain under the charge of both Orcs and Men. Their last mission met with disaster, leaving their numbers lower than they had been in almost a year: fifteen. The dynamics of the group were a little different even before this catastrophe, with Beloan, who was always Khamir’s “right-hand man” becoming more and more of a second (and not necessarily at all secondary) leader, as his skills, charisma, and decision-making abilities have clearly matured further than Khamir’s likely ever will.

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

Durelin’s post – Khamir


The slaves snuck glances as the boy was brought back out to the fields. He had been gone for only minutes, but the rest of the slaves had been at the mercy of the whip if they even thought of pausing in their work while they were forced to listen to his screams. What they had done to the child the overseer would have liked to have done to all the slaves, but the survival rate was not good enough to risk losing so many of the laborers. The plantation owner would have his heartstrings for a necklace if he ever put his power and wealth at such risk. Neither was very abundant in Mordor since the defeat of Sauron, particularly wealth. Those who had any wealth or power were those who lived without the constant worry of what to fill their stomachs with. And who had control of the few sources of water.

The boy’s mother put herself at great risk, leaping forward to get to her son, dropping her work. The Orc who dragged the boy out to the fields kicked her down onto her hands and knees. There she groveled and begged just to hear that her son was alright, even though she knew he wasn’t and never would be. She had no hope for his future. She felt terrible guilt for even having given birth to him. He had not deserved it. Her son was completely silent. He had been since even before they brought him out.

“Tell the sow you’re alright and get her to shut up.” The overseer and the Orc holding the boy howled with grating laughter. The boy turned his head to look at his mother. There was a moment when the two’s eyes met and the boy opened his mouth. Nothing came out. His lips moved, but no words were formed. No words, no sound was heard. His mother collapsed to the ground, wailing, not rising even for the stomping and kicking of the other guards, so consumed by her grief. Her son’s tongue had been ripped out, and his vocal cords removed or made unusable through a procedure involving a hot iron. The mother cried and screamed as two guards, one a Man and one an Orc, forcibly pulled her up and dragged her toward the rough shed. She would be taken care of in much the same way, but she did not cry for herself.

The two had been among those who had tried to escape during the short-lived rebellion of the desperate slaves against their master. Mother and son had probably tasted some kind of freedom for a few hours, but they had been recaptured and were being punished and used as tyrannical symbols of fear because of the forbidden fruit that had bitten from. They had not been alone as escapees, though. There were of course others who had shared and would share similar fates, but there were also those who had made it to the mountains. The looming natural barricade of the mountain range seemed to mock them, and yet they saw the peaks as soaring freedom. Some actually planned to scale the mountains and escape to the world beyond; others simply wanted to get as far from the plantation as they could, and toward the southern range of the Ephel Dûath was as good a direction as any that were not back.

Four days after the rebellion, fifty-six of the escapees had collected themselves into a group, looking for others who had escaped and anyone who they could call an ally. Few, as they approached the mountains, actually considered climbing them, no matter how nice they knew or had heard the world beyond them was. For several days, the mountains acted as a hiding place for the fifty slaves that still lived, and become more of a cage than ever. But on the seventh night after their escape, they woke up to find themselves surrounded. Luckily, their stalkers were allies, and useful ones: a gang of ex-slaves, free for varying numbers of years, and staying alive mostly through theft from their former masters. Fierce fighters and superb survivalists, they brought more useful skills to the group. Some of them were truly thieves and killers, but they all had or remembered having family in various forms. They welcomed more hands, even if it meant more mouths to feed. And the two groups discovered quickly, if they had not known it from the start, that there was really very little separating them: both were more than ready for change.

Most had heard, though at least a year later than they should have, that Nurn actually belonged to them. Several years after Elessar’s declaration, word had spread to practically every being in Mordor that, according to the King of Gondor, the slaves were free. And yet they were still being whipped, chained, and treated as animals in the very land they were supposed to own. It was that knowledge that had given the slaves enough hope to risk rebellion, and it was what pushed them now to journey across Mordor to the southern reaches of the Plateau of Gorgoroth. A new wilderness meant a new beginning.

Khamir sat outside the caves in which the rest of the camp slept, the pitch black of night not intimidating in the least, and the crisp rushing of the river not loud to his ears. It was his watch. Every night, he had the last watch. It was just his way, and very few liked to stand in his way. He knew that the night around him could betray him at any moment, but he sat calmly, resting his mind in dreams without sleep. So many nights he had sat up in the same way amongst the sharp rocks at the base of the mountains. What made this night any different? For one thing, the company was different. There were now sixty-four men, women, and children sleeping nearby. It was no longer just the gang, and they no longer only had to worry about themselves. More was not necessarily better, but this group…they brought hope, something that Khamir had long given up on. It felt good to have it back.

He knew he was happier than he had been in years, though he did not smile. He knew the journey ahead would be the roughest he had ever taken, and he feared the numbers they might lose. He knew he had never had to figure out how to feed sixty-five mouths before, and hoped someone else had leadership in mind. He knew all of this, and yet he found peace lingering somewhere in the night air. Very soon he would be able to see the sun inching its way up the horizon. Perhaps it was hope of such a sight that kept him still. He knew hope was a powerful force.

But what he did not know was that, miles away, that same force drove a group shockingly similar to his own. The Orcs, the cruel masters, the savage monsters, the mindless followers of Sauron…they had families that they cared for. And they knew that it was time Nurn was abandoned, along with the old ways. They sought a new way, a new home, and a new beginning. Fifteen Orcs, male and female, young and old, would find a fresh wilderness just as attractive as sixty-five men, women, and children would. Neither knew they had dreamed the same dream, and neither would believe it if they were told so.

But if hope could be shared, why not a journey, a land? Why not a new beginning?

That morning, Khamir found what he could to write a letter that would show just how hopeful recent events had made him. He planned to write to the King of Gondor himself. It was he, Aragorn, Elessar, who had not forgotten the slaves. Perhaps this would be just another reminder? Was it a cry for help, a beseeching of aid, a simple report of the situation? Khamir found himself unable to write a single word for almost an hour, but when he finally started to write, the letter became all three of those things. He told of the slaves’ escape, of he and his fourteen men’s troubles, and of their plan to start anew together. He also told of the difficulties they faced daily, and how they would only double if they ventured to leave the safety of the caves and to a complete wilderness. The word ‘help’ was not there, but it was in every way implied. The letter was given to a trader heading back to Minas Tirith, and Khamir found himself praying for the first time.

Now all they had to do was wait in hope for some kind of answer: preferably one that did not come only in writing.


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


Durelin's character - Vrór

Name: Vrór Redfist

Race: Dwarf

Age: 91

Weapons: A large double bladed and an even larger single-bladed axe, hung one on top of the other on his back.

Appearance: 4’ 4” tall, Vrór has long, thick hair that can only be called orange hanging down only about an inch or two below his shoulders. Wavy and full, it is beautiful hair that many would say was wasted on the Dwarf. His beard is equally as thick, and has almost as much wave to it. It falls down to his thighs, just a few inches about his knees, making it longer than he keeps the hair on his head. Stocky, with broad shoulders even for a Dwarf, he is in every way a rock, his tough leathery skin, slightly tanned and clearly weathered, attesting to his strength and respectable age. Wrinkles crease his forehead and around his mouth from innumerable smiles. His eyes are small and beady, grey, a little too close together, and framed by considerably bushy eyebrows. His nose is rather large and wide, his lips moderately thick and as weathered as the rest of his skin, and his chin small and round. He normally wears a long dark grey tunic, black pants, black boots, and a black belt, and has a baldric to hold his axes on his back and a long chainmail hauberk for those dangerous times.

Personality: A fierce warrior as most of his people are, he is also fiercely loyal and loving. He is not one to ever give up on anything. He is a surprisingly cheery person, and though he is quick to temper and his rage can be shocking, it is quick to depart. He loves having a plan, and dislikes spontaneity, and is likely to explode into one of his quick bursts of anger if ‘the plan’ is interrupted or ruined for any reason. But he tends to be a bit of a problem solver, though he always refuses to take the easy route. Many of his tendencies come from his work as a craftsman: he knows that quality is the most important thing, and feels that if the job is not done correctly, with the greatest care, and does not yield the best product it can, then it might as well have not been done at all, and surely should have been done properly by himself. Vrór is always very proud of his work, though he waits for the right opportunity to show such pride (at least, the right opportunity in his opinion).

History: Born in Erebor a little less than a decade after the rebuilding of Dale, Vrór was accustomed to ‘other folk,’ particularly Men, from the time he was born. He grew up in a very large family, with seven brothers and sisters. As the fourth child, and the third son, he was inexplicably a middle child. And with ten people in the family, it was hard to him to feel really special. He and his brothers were apprenticed as stonemasons one after another, of course following in their father’s footsteps. His sisters were apprenticed as silversmiths, as their father would not have them be but simple housewives. Their mother never learned a tradeskill until she met her husband, who was exuberant about teaching her how to work with stone. Vrór, though, began to dabble in metalworking along with stonemasonry, finding it a good way to branch off from the family. He certainly loved his nine close relatives, but he found their whole way of things rather smothering sometimes. There were practically endless possibilities for him in Erebon and in Dale. He worked side-by-side with Men craftsmen, and once an Elf. His father held a more traditional view of Elves, but his mother often told her children stories of the Children of Ilúvatar behind his back, and, really, Vrór is more curious about them than anything else. A few years after the destruction of the Ring and the defeat of Sauron, even more possibilities opened up for the Dwarves. Elessar, the King of Gondor returned to his throne, called upon all the Free Peoples to help rebuild. And so Vrór ended up in Minas Tirith, leaping on the opportunity of such abundant and challenging work, as well as the opportunity to work in such a grand city, and to do his own small part in the reconstruction and renewal.


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


Durelin's post - Vrór


“Oi, watch that end of it!”

Two men were hoisting up a block of stone to find its place among the hundreds of other blocks that were almost seamlessly sealed together to form a great wall. Above them, the Tower of Ecthelion gleamed in the sunlight. Sweat glistened on their brow, and their skin was a soft brown from all the time they had spent in the sun the past few weeks. Working under the command of Vrór, they had received very little time out of it. But they did not grudge the Dwarf for it. He was just as hard working as any of them, if not more.

And in testament to this, Vrór was of course hard at work with hammer and chisel, shaping a chunk of marble that had begun as a block and was now far from cubic. Turned away from the two men pulling up the stone, he had caught out of the corner of his eye the block slipping to one side in its harness.

“So he has eyes somewhere behind that mass of hair,” the one muttered.

“And ears, too!” came a quick response from the Dwarf. It came as a gruff bark, grating with what many might call anger, but the two workers knew better. The one only rolled his eyes, while the other tried and failed to stifle laughter.

Vrór smiled as he heard the stone block clack safely into position, but did not pause for a moment in his work. He seemed to know exactly where to make the next chisel, and truly, he did. He had drawn out models and blueprints and charts, and even carved out a smaller version of this creation. Perhaps he wasn’t the speediest of workers, but it was obvious to anyone that he got the job done, and the finished product was perhaps even better than one had expected. “It always does look better up to scale,” he would say, obvious in his modesty, and perhaps even more obvious in his pride.

So engrossed in his work, he did not notice when he was approached from behind. “Excuse me, sir?” came a voice obviously nervous about disturbing a Dwarf in his work. “I have a message for you, sir.”

Putting down his tools, Vrór turned to look at the man. He seemed fairly young, still rather rosy cheeked, and probably had just recently lost his baby fat. Looked to be shaping up to be a fine looking young man, though. He was dressed in the fancy attire of one of the King’s servants. The White Tree emblazoned on his tunic, shining practically brighter than the sun with the light reflection off it. The Dwarf grunted.

“They’ve even got the messengers all dressed up these days? Well, I’ll be. I suppose this,” he gestured with his hand only slightly, but in a way that obviously pointed to the man’s entire outfit, “is a sign of prosperity.”

He paused for a moment, and was met only by silence from the messenger, though the workers found his words rather amusing. The one that could not resist laughter before didn’t even try to this time. The other spoke up, “Gondor will only get richer, but I’ll always be stuck with these linens.”

Vrór grunted again. The young man in front of him coloured slightly, and seemed to feel more awkward by the second. The Dwarf smiled at him, shaking his head. “We’re only teasing, lad. I’m surprised to see such a young man already in such a fine position,” he said with kindness and sincerity. “Now, what have you got for me?”

The young man smiled back, and with a short bow, he handed a piece of paper with the King’s seal to Vrór. “Well, now, don’t I feel special,” the Dwarf remarked, seeing the seal.

He opened the letter, and, as he read it, his eyes widened. It was indeed from the King himself, and… A Fellowship? Vrór let out a snort. And he supposed he was the token Dwarf for this venture. It noted his skill as a stonemason, and now he grunted at the paper before him. He scanned the page. No, nothing about his metalwork. Reaching the end of the message, he let out a sigh, shaking his head.

“Well, lads,” he called out to the two Men who had paused in their work, both still surprised that they had not been yelled at to get back to it, “do you think you’ll be alright without me?”


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


Minor Character - Slave escapee

Name: Adnan

Age: 15

Gender: Male

Race: Haradrim

Weapons: He was recently given a knife, with a thin blade of relative length – a stabbing weapon with a rather dull sides but a sharp point.

Appearance: A good height for his age, about 5’ 6”, long and lean. Dark hair, thick and curly, it sticks both up and out on his head, with always at least a few curls hanging down in front of his eyes that he has to try and push away. His eyes are a dark, muddy brown, and his skin is approximately the same colour. He wears rough pants, and only sometimes bothers with any kind of shirt. He always ties a cloth around his upper right arm, though, to hide the brand there.

Personality: His hopes and dreams have not been fully crushed by the few years he spent as a slave. He has a desire to make himself known, to be respected by many. He has a fierce hatred for Easterlings, as both the owner of the plantation he was enslaved on and the overseer he was most often punished by were from the East. Like most Southerners, he doesn’t think much of Gondor, either, and certainly has no love for Orcs. He likes to think of himself as a loner, but hates being alone, and regrets it when he shrugs off the offer of company. Overall, it can be said that his bark is much worse than his bite.

History: Adnan was a slave for three years on a plantation after being captured with his mother and four older siblings. His father’s death and his family’s descent into utter poverty made them prime targets for the remaining slavers who did business in Mordor. He has not seen any of his family since the day they were captured.

[piosenniel]

Here is the form for doing your character's bio:


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:

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

A first post should accompany your Major Character

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

For your Minor Character, you need only a brief Character Bio, no post.

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

[piosenniel]

Here are the players/characters still needed:

B. Inhabitants of Mordor

a few more inhabitants of Mordor could possibly be taken on if someone is dying to get into the game. :)


NOTE:

Slave escapee - one of the group of 50 people who just escaped from the plantation and have run down to the river to hide in the caves.

Ex-slave - one of a group of about 15 people who escaped from a plantation some time ago. They have already been hiding in the caves for a while, but their numbers have been severely decimated by frequent Orc attacks. They are the ones who advise the slave escapees that it is not wise to stay in the area, and they must all find someplace to go.

The two slave groups will be posting together from the beginning of the RPG

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

About Minor Characters in addition to your Major Character:

Posters are encouraged to carry one minor character, generally one of the inhabitants of Mordor. You are free to pick and choose. However, if the list become too lopsided and everyone requests one character type (Orcs, for example), we may ask some writers to consider a different choice.

[piosenniel]

The RPG thread is HERE (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showthread.php?t=12961) .

The Planning Thread is HERE (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showthread.php?t=12941) .

[piosenniel]

The Discussion Thread is now open.


Everyone please wait until Durelin and Child of the 7th Age have checked into this thread BEFORE posting here.

Thanks!

~*~ Pio

[Durelin]

Thank you, Pio!

I suppose I can check in now.

I was trying to lurk around until this opened up...glad I managed to hang around here long enough. :D

[Child of the 7th Age]

Checking in.....

I guess other folk can post now. :)

[Folwren]

Can you guess? I've got something to beg of you.

Child, having heard that my internet time will be limited this summer somewhat, thought that I shouldn't take on a minor character. In fact, you pretty much ordered me not to. But I'd really, really, really like to take on a young boy. Can I? Please? If I'm doing bad and you don't think that I'm keeping up well enough and that I shouldn't be having him, I'll kill him off.

You see, there was a young chap on the baseball team that my dad and I coached this year who would make a really cool character, but he had problems, so the character would have to come from a place that would give him such problems. (Don't be alarmed, Pio, they're not evil or improper problems, if you catch my meaning.) And coming from a slave plantation would certainly do it to him. Will you consider it?

Concerning my main character - I wrote her bio up at work, but I'm at home right now, so I'll be able to post it tomorrow. I don't have a first post yet. I'll be talking with Tevildo a little before I write that, but I doubt it will be too long before I have the first post.

Thanks for your time! I'm looking forward to it!

-- Folwren

[piosenniel]

piosenniel's character


NAME: Rôg

AGE: around 42

RACE: Mannish

GENDER: Male

APPEARANCE: 5’6”; black hair; dark brown eyes; olive toned skin; softly muscled, lean frame; a little stooped when he does not remember to straighten his posture, from long hours spent hunched over scrolls and tomes in libraries, and over his own notebooks; a pleasant, though not memorable face; long, tapering fingers with well kept nails; an ink stain and thick callous on his right middle finger indicating where the quill is grasped. There is a small, flat, ovoid shaped gold stud in his upper left ear, nearly hidden where the top of ear folds over on itself like a sea shell.

Prefers loose clothing in dark, earthen tones, browns and blacks – breeches and tunics worn with boots if necessary in the north and western climes. Otherwise bare-footed. Dark brown hooded cape for protection against the elements. A number of large handkerchiefs are crammed in various pockets of the cape, most of them a yellow color.

Carries an ebony walking stick; small hand ax used for gathering fuel for fire; an over the shoulder leather pouch which, among other items, holds several leather bound notebooks and one small chapbook; a quill case; inkstone and blotter sand; at his belt he wears a small leather sheath with a small, sharp double edged knife – used mainly for sharpening quills or cutting up vegetables.

PERSONALITY: He has a pleasant temperament, and a dry sense of humor. Good listener, feels no desire to talk one’s ear off. A slow, methodical worker; does not like to feel ‘hurried’. He prefers to evaluate all sides of a problem before settling on an answer. In a dangerous situation, he would be more likely to take cover than fight. Though, as yet, nothing has pushed him to the point where his mettle might be tested.

Dependable, intelligent. Used to the wandering life. A whiz with a cooking pot and any edible vegetation and small game. Can start a fire under any conditions. He is a man of many useful talents.

HISTORY: Born in TA 2999. For five years his home was in the wide, broad valley bounded by the lower limb of the Orocarni, the Mountains of the East; the dense forest on their west and east; and the arid steppe that pushed its way south and east, descending to the shores of the seas. His family were members of a small nomadic tribe who wandered this sparsely populated area, trading with other tribes in the vicinity, often venturing as far West as the outskirt cities of Rhûn. His father made the small, serviceable axes of the sort that graced his own belt. His mother wove colorful baskets, useful for many things in the peoples of that region’s daily lives, and useful, too, her larger ones, for burial.

He and his older sister, two years his senior, enjoyed a fairly carefree life during this time. Though sometimes he and she were pressed into service for gathering the fibrous materials for baskets, or pumping the bellows when their father was at work on the ax heads, for the most part, they were free to roam. And best they loved the forests with their scrubby, green needled trees, roots gripped firm on the rocky ground. . . and the wildlife, the abundant and most intriguing wildlife. Encouraged by their parents, they both grew up with a great respect for the creatures that shared their lives . . . and a healthy respect for the creatures’ ability to protect themselves.

Then the Shadow from the west lengthened. At first a hushed story told in whispers around the cooking fires by the elders, then encounters with peoples they had previously traded with who now claimed some sort of allegiance to a great Lord in a far western place called Mordor. The elders and parents seemed secretive to a youngster of five, but his own reassured him and his sister that there was nothing to worry about. Nonetheless, in the following months they began a slow migration southward, hugging the coast of the Eastern Sea and then the Inner Sea. Past the places of half remembered stories from before the time of men.

When he was about ten years old, the elders made the decision that they had come to a place they felt safe enough to settle in. This new area lay in a semi-arid region between the Great Dark Forests of the South and the coast of the Inner Sea. And it was here that he spent the next fifteen years of his life. The letters and numbers he had learned at his mother’s knee now proved useful to his family and tribe – increased contact with other wandering tribes meant increased trade, and he had the talent to keep the tallies.

At twenty-five, he traded for his first scroll, paying the traveling merchant extra for a quick lesson on how to read the peculiar script. It was only a short, illustrated treatise on locating wells and digging them; an unexciting piece of literature, save for the fact it showed him how such a thing was done in some other part of the world. And when he learned, from the same fellow that there were buildings dedicated to the storage of manuscripts and scrolls, which were open for those so inclined to read and study in, he resolved to see them. His wishes came to fruition in the next few years, and with the blessings of his parents and his other tribe members he set off, wandering north and west, seeking to increase his knowledge.

~*~

He had long been interested in the study of small birds – their habitats, social structure, migratory patterns, feeding preferences, capacity to adapt and learn new skills. He felt a certain kinship to them, many of them wanderers like himself.

It was at the Library in Rivendell where he first met Aiwendil (Radagast), and fell to comparing notes with him concerning the sighting of a certain species of hummingbird seen recently in the last few years in the area of Rhudaur near the Hithaeglir, and then again between the eastern side of the mountains and Rhosgobel.

Hearing that Aiwendil was bound for the southern lands, Rôg offered to accompany him. He had been down there, he told the old fellow, for a space of time in his younger years. It would be a profitable journey for the both of them – Aiwendil would have the services of someone familiar with the country, and Rôg would have the benefit of Aiwendil’s vast knowledge of birds and his keen eye for observation. That and Rôg would have the opportunity to make contact with his tribe after such a long time away.

During their stay in Harad, Aiwendil and he had assisted some of the native peoples who wished to throw off the last vestiges of Sauron’s influence, and helped them secure their freedom from an oppressive tribal chieftain.


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


piosenniel's post - Rôg


The young man, Gaerion, knocked firmly on the smooth wood door, then stepped back a pace, hearing the footsteps from within draw nearer. He looked about the little courtyard in which he stood. It was lush with flowers; many of them he knew were of the sort which attracted little birds. He smiled, knowing the one who lived here would be pleased that he had managed to recall this bit of information. Gaerion had delivered many messages here and never gotten away yet without some small lesson on this or that.

Rôg peeked through the small, barred peephole in the door, wondering who had come for a visit so early in the morning. Gaerion! Fresh faced, his black livery spotless, boots gleaming from the polishing he must have given them just this morning. His grey eyes were clear, and shone, it seemed to Rôg, with a spirit of hope and the expectation of a life open to possibility. It was a welcome sight to Rôg’s eyes. There had been too many years, he thought, when hope lay under shadow and possibility was thwarted by despair.

‘Come in, come in!’ He opened the door wide and ushered Gaerion in, pointing towards the small table near the window where he’d just sat down to eat his morning meal. ‘There’s plenty,’ Rôg said, motioning to an empty chair as he sat back down in his own. ‘Fruit, cheese….and here, let me pour you a cup of wine. It’s from the south. Very light, very refreshing.’

‘What’s this?’ He took the slender roll of parchment from Gaerion, exchanging it for the basket of thick sliced bread he’d passed the young man. Rôg untied the thin ribbon and unrolled the parchment. His eyes scanned the writing; he smiled as he read the signature written boldly at the bottom. ‘From the King,’ Rôg said.

Gaerion nodded as he stuffed a fig into his mouth. He bit back a grin at the obviousness of this conclusion. A swig of wine followed, a delighted smile affirming the young man’s pleased approval. ‘Delivered one to the old fellow too.’ He looked chagrined as Rôg raised a brow at him. ‘Aiwendil, then,’ he said, making an apology of sorts. ‘The Elf fellow was there, too.’ Gaerion took another sip of wine. He supposed he should be discreet; the King’s man had not made mention of what the messages said, only that the King wanted them delivered as quickly as possible. But, he was young and curious, and so he asked Rôg outright what the King had written.

‘It’s about the land across the river. Mordor. The King has received a request for aid from some of those who live there. He’s sending a group of us to look into it and give them assistance.’ Rôg took a small cluster of fat red grapes and plucked one off. ‘Though I wonder what he thinks I can do.’ He popped the grape into his mouth and chewed it thoughtfully. ‘Most likely he wants me to keep the old fellow out of trouble.’ Rôg grinned at Gaerion who’d raised his brows in mock remonstrance of calling Aiwendil ‘the old fellow’.

Breakfast done, the farewells made, and Rôg returned to his chair to peruse the King’s letter again. In a hastily scrawled note at the bottom of the page, Elessar had mentioned men of the East, slaves at one time in the Dark Land, were among those who had asked for assistance. And would Rôg, in addition to using his knowledge of wells, and irrigation systems, be sure to look to any special needs that those of his homeland might have. He frowned; the thought of any of his clan or kind, under the will and whips of the Dark Lord, and after him his as-cruel minions made him shudder despite the increasing warmth of the day.

It took very little time for him to pack. Other than a change of clothes and his pens and notebooks, Rôg had few essentials he couldn’t live without. He thrust his hand axe through his belt, to which he’d also secured his knife. Last of all was his walking stick; once in his hand he strode out the door of his little apartment and closed it securely. Gaerion had agreed to look after the little place while he was gone.

In a few moments he was at Aiwendil’s rooms, entering the door without a knock. The old fellow was bent over a book of maps his finger tracing the way for the Elf who stood at his side.

‘Well, I’m ready!’ he looked from one to the other of them as he banged his stick on the stone floor. His gaze settled on Aiwendil. ‘Just promise me this trip will involve no travel by water….that’s all I ask.’

[Undómë]

Looks to be a great game! I'm very much looking forward to playing in it.

Here are my two Orc sisters. Will work on the post for them, and on the bio for the minor Mordor character soon.

----------


Undómë’s characters:


NAMES: Zagra and Mazhg, sisters

AGE: around 36 or so

RACE: Orc

GENDER: Female

WEAPONS: Zagra has a thick wooden club – part of a stout oak stave that once held a lance. Mazhg carries a spade she stole from one of the fields; she keeps the edges of the metal shovel sharp with a flint rock she has stashed in a battered leather pouch hanging from her shoulder. Both are strong, and fight like cats when they are cornered -- with nails and teeth and feet.

APPEARANCE: about 4’ 10”; darkish skin made darker by layers of dirt; dark eyed short; spiky black hair matted with filth; stocky, thick bodied, well muscled. Ragged, rough cloth shifts, stained and torn. Frayed, tattered blankets of some indiscriminate grey colored wool serve as cloaks. Barefooted.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Despite her hard life, Mazhg is a bright woman, very wily, extremely suspicious, cautious around other people. Especially around males, whom she despises for the most part. She is fiercely protective of her sister. Zagra is what one might call a little ‘simple-minded’. Her mind tends to drift; she is not as wary of situations and people as is her sister. Mazhg keeps Zagra close to her, and will kill and has killed any who touch her or try to hurt her.

HISTORY: Zagra and Mazhg had just turned about 15 years old in 3019 III Age. The woman who gave birth to them died at their birth as had their triplet sister. They were raised on one of Mordor’s breeding farms. They worked hard in the fields from a young age; took care of the babies and littler children as they got older. That year, their fifteenth, they would have gone into the breeding sheds to become part of the great propagation program designed to supply Mordor with a continuous source of Orc warriors, workers, and breeders.

When Sauron fell and Mordor was made free by the King’s decree, Mazhg and Zagra joined in with a large band of Orcs who were staking out their claim to a part of Nurn for themselves. Now the Easterlings who were part of Mordor’s slave base were trying to eliminate the Orcs. There was to be a big battle between the two groups. Mazhg had decided this battle would not be to her and Zagra’s benefit; they would most likely be killed she thought. She and her sister had joined in with those Orcs who were fleeing from the main group to find a safer place to live.


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



Undómë's post - Zagra & Mazhg


‘Scared . . . big scared.’ Zagra’s voice, hushed and strained already, trailed off into silence. She leaned against Mazhg as her sister chopped at their shifts. Mazhg was shortening them with a knife she’d stolen from the cook shed, making them into what she hoped would pass for boys’ tunics.

‘I know you’re scared,’ Mazhg, whispered back, nuzzling Zagra’s cheek with her nose. I’m scared too! she thought to herself, though to her sister she spoke in an assured tone. ‘Things will be alright. You just stick to me . . .,’ she said, smiling at Zagra.

‘. . . like a pink tail on a rat!’ Zagra finished. She scooted around so that she could lean her back against her sister’s. ‘Tell me . . . tell me again, Mazhg. What we doing under old white face t’night.’

Though she’d heard it already several times, Zagra’s eyes went wide as Mazhg retold her story of stealing two pairs of breeches, each from two different sides of the camp. And how she’d managed to slip into the cook tent and the storage tent near it – to take a knife from the one, and dried meat and travel-bread from the other.

What Mazhg hadn’t made part of the adventurous tale was how one of the Uruk who was hanging about had spied her crawling out from under the back of the tent. And how he’d hit her hard with his club on the small of her back. The blow had sent her flying. She’d barely scrambled to her feet before he got to her. By some stroke of luck or his own laziness, he’d elected to hurl insults at her retreating form, rather than expend the energy to run her down. She expected he was most likely drunk. Quite drunk, from the smell of fermented mash spirits that hung in a thick cloud about him.

Many of the men were drinking. Getting up their courage for the coming battle against the Easterlings. In the distance, on the other side of the camp, she could see many little fires dotting the plain, and the shadowy forms of Orc men, big and small, wavering in the garish light. Drums, too. They beat loud and louder as the night progressed. A booming heartbeat, strong and mighty; savage it was meant to seem . . . to make the Easterlings’ blood run cold with fear.

Mazhg snickered. She was in no way fond of the Easterlings. But she hoped their knives were sharp and would slit the throat of every man-Orc. She brought her attention back to her sister.

‘Once we’re dressed like I told you, we’re going to sneak off on an adventure. Me and you. To a place where we’ll be safe. Together.’

‘Try this on, Zagra,’ she said, handing one of the shortened shifts to her sister. ‘Let it hang loose about you.’ Mazhg pulled her own on hastily, modeling it for Zagra. ‘Like this.’ She nodded in approval as Zagra stood before her. ‘Come here, now. Let’s put this pouch over your head.’ Mazhg flattened the leather strap that held the rough made pouch across Zagra’s chest. ‘This has a little skin of water in it, some meat and some bread. Now throw your blanket over your shoulders . . . like the boys do.’ Mazhg reached for the ends of the blanket scrap and tied them in a loose knot so that material fell about her sister’s form like a little cape. She handed Zagra her stick, telling her to hold tight to it.

Mazhg quickly got herself ready to go, tucking the knife into a raggedy sort of sash she’d tied about her middle. She picked up her spade, checking one last time in her own pouch for the sharpening stone.
With a quick smile of assurance, Mazhg took her sister’s hand firmly in her own and let her eyes dart about the nearly empty northern part of the camp she’d staked out as their little place. Most of the others who bedded down in that area were at the fires in the southern part of the camp.

The moon was bright on the eastern horizon. Fat and bulbous like some great swollen spider, it hung in the dark sky. Its light ate the little lights of the stars, swallowing whole it seemed those ones that had the ill luck to be near its web.

Hunched over, skittering like dark little bugs from one pool of shadow to another, the two sisters headed west. They hurried as fast as their legs would take them; away from the madness of the coming battle and toward the meeting place the loosely organised group of rebels had agreed on . . .


_________________________



Undómë’s minor character – Granny Brenna

NAME: Brenna (slave escapee), aka ‘Granny Brenna’ or just plain ‘Gran’

AGE: 51

RACE: Men

GENDER: Female

WEAPONS: Her planting stick; small hand scythe for harvesting grain – hangs from her belt by a leather cord; small sling and pouch of rocks for bringing down small animals.

APPEARANCE: 5’1”; thin, wiry. Once raven black hair now streaked heavily with grey, worn in a thick braid down her back, or in a bun at the nape of her neck. Dark brown eyes. Tanned complexion from work in the fields. Wrinkles. Keeps her tunic and long skirt as neat and clean as she is able. Piece of rope serves as a belt for the skirt. Pair of hand cobbled sandals of leather. Raggedy square of dark woven material she uses as a shawl

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Knows how to keep her nose out of trouble; minds her own business as she can. A kindly, no-nonsense sort of woman with a helping hand for those who need it. She is a story-teller and has been known to sing on occasion when the hard cider jug is passed her way.

HISTORY: Taken at the age of eleven, with her family, from their little farm in the eastern reaches of North Ithilien. Father and mother are now deceased. She hasn’t seen her two older brothers, Bran and Nevan, in twenty years - since they were sent to another plantation on the southern edges of Nurn.

-----

[b]Carry alongs:

1.) Gwenith (Gwenni) - girl @ 11y/o; long, light blonde hair
2.) Nia - young woman @ 16 y/o; shoulder length dk. brown hair

[Tevildo]

This is my main character's profile. I'll work on the other profile and post as soon as I can.

Should I put the other profile and the beginning post in this same box?


Tevildo's Main Character:


NAME: Dorran

AGE: 39

RACE: Human

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: As one of the Riders of Rohan, Dorran bears a sturdy broadsword that was given to him by Eomer, whom he served under during the War of the Ring. He also cherishes a hand carved bow and a jambiya, a dagger with a dual-edged curved blade that is seemingly of eastern origin. The latter were passed down to him by his long deceased father.

APPEARANCE: Tall and slender as a youth, Dorran has blossomed into a man with considerable physical gifts. He has a shock of brown curly hair, skin that is darker than most of his fellow Rohirrim, and earnest brown eyes. He still has the same serious expression and somber demeanor that he did in his teens. Although fairly good looking, he rarely thinks about his physical appearance. Even while serving the King at court, Dorran prefers to dress in simple servicable fashion, wearing a plain doublet over his tunic, along with high boots and breeches. In battle he adds a leather vest reinforced with chain mail.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Dorran's personality seemingly matches his quiet and unassuming outer appearance. He has more confidence than he did as a youth but still feels no need to push himself forward in front of others. He is patient and has considerable physical courage, having faced many foes on the field of battle. Yet it is still difficult for him to talk about his own past: the death of most of his family at the hands of Orcs and the years he and his sister spent as slaves in Mordor.

There are three people whom he feels deeply about: his wife Athwen, his sister Creide, and an elderly healer named Leod, who has been almost like a father to Dorran since the age of sixteen. He would give his own life for any of them. His love for his wife means everything to him, but sometimes he has trouble expressing that affection in words. He tends to keep some of his worries to himself and finds it difficult to talk about personal problems. Despite his silence, he is a loyal and concerned husband whose affections run deep.

Dorran has many skills that are of potential use in the Fellowship. He is a trained fighter and excellent rider who has spent much time caring for and training horses. Perhaps most importantly, he knows a great deal about the slave plantations and geography of Mordor.

HISTORY: Dorran and his sister Creide came to the village of Wulfham when they were tiny children, brought there from some identified place that lay towards the east by Raven, an elderly maiden aunt. Neither of the trio ever spoke of what had become of the childrens' parents. Whatever difficulties had befallen the family, they kept the story to themselves.

The aunt was a poor seamstress, barely holding body and soul together. Both Dorran and Creide had to be sent out in service at a very young age. After helping out in the households of several farmers in the region, the children found their way into the employ of Lord Aldwulf: Creide as a scullery maid and Dorran in the stables. With the passing of their elderly aunt, the march-warden and his lady had taken pity on the two and let them bed down in a tiny cellar room that faced onto the courtyard. The children were well behaved and generally accepted by the other villagers, though some wondered where they had come from. The Lord of Wulfham was a kind and honorable man and treated Dorran and his sister with much kindness.

When just sixteen years old, Dorran repaid his lord's generosity by volunteering for a dangerous mission: to ride to Edoras for help after a threatened Orc attack on the village of Wulfham. See Outracing the Flames RPG in the Shire. In the company of other volunteers, Dorran exhibited considerable courage and resourcefulness. This dangerous trek was also where he met his bride-to-be. Athwen's village had been attacked and destroyed by Orcs. She and the elderly healer Leod were the only two villagers surviving. Dorran eventually volunteered to join the Riders and serve under Eomer during the War of the Ring, but he returned to marry his beloved Athwen in the sixth year of the Fourth Age. Gradually, over the years, Dorran confided to his wife his experiences as a slave in Mordor and the death of his parents and brother.

He has also risen in favor with the King, initially taking care of the mearas at the royal household in Edoras. These steeds would even allow Dorran to ride and exercise them, which is most unusual. In recent year, the King has used Dorran as an emissary to the court of Minas Tirith when imporant matters had to be discussed.

Dorran and Athwen have been married thirteen years. While their union has been a happy one, it is marked by one sadness. Dorran had hoped for a son--a boy whom he could teach to ride and hunt, but their marriage has not yet been blessed with children.

_____________________

Tevildo's minor character

NAME: Azhar

AGE: 12 years old

RACE: Slave girl originally from the east

GENDER: Female

WEAPONS: Her hands and nails and whatever she can manage to defend herself. She also carries a slingshot and rocks in her pocket. However, her best defense has always been her ability to charm her way into the most unlikely hearts.

APPEARANCE: Azhar has a mass of curly black ringlets falling down her back, but these are usually tangled and matted. She is so scrawny that her ribs stick out and her clothes hang limply from her frame. Although her tanned olive face is dirty and her shift torn, she is an extraordinarily attractive girl. Her warm brown eyes attest to her lively mind and stubborn determination.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTH/WEAKNESSES

In a small world that alternates between terrible cruelty and complete indifference, Azhar is a tiny spot of brightness. Orphaned at a young age, the girl simply refuses to lay down and die. She is bright and resourceful and has managed to survive through the generosity of other slaves, her own intelligence, and her ability to manipulate others. She seemingly does not harbor the deep anger or bitterness characteristic of so many other slaves. Her duties are comparatively easy. She conveys buckets of water to the slaves in the field and runs other small errands for the guards. Her name means "flower" in one of the eastern tongues, although she does not even know this. She is truly a tough cactus flower blooming in an arid desert.

Yet this tale of rugged endurance does have a darker underside. Although Azhar does not possess a mean bone in her body, she does what she must to survive. She would never betray a close friend, yet she lies and steals with cold calculation. Even as a little child, she was aware of her good looks and charm and exploited these for all they were worth. With her extraordinary ability to soften even the coldest heart simply by walking into a room, Azhar has even been known to secure treats and special privileges from guards. Moreover, she has seen horrors that no twelve-year old should have witnessed and understands what will happen if she fails to curry favor. If she remains on the plantation until adulthood, she will likely lose all sense of right and wrong and turn into a hard hearted manipulator willing to use any means at her disposal to better her situation. Dreaming of a better life, she is determined to escape or die in the trying.

HISTORY:

She has none, at least if she remains on the plantation. Azhar is a child without a real future or a past.

_________________


Tevildo's post - Dorran

Dorran carefully threaded his way through the crowded streets and byways, reining in his mount so as not to collide with any of the citizens of Minas Tirith who were going about their business. The slow pace did not suit him. He was anxious to get home to his wife and discuss with her what had happened at court. He glanced down at his side to make sure the message from Elessar still sat securely in his pouch.

Dorran and his wife were supposed to be returning home in a few days. He had come to Minas Tirith as a messenger of the King of Rohan. Eomer had asked him to present four prized stallions as a gift of friendship to the people of Gondor as well as to convey a personal letter to Elessar. Dorran had made sure the horses were settled in the stables and that the king's servants understood how to train and care for them. This afternoon, Dorran had been formally received at court. He expected to deliver his message and be courteously dismissed to travel back to Edoras. He had been totally unprepared for what happened next.

The King had invited him to join a special band leaving the next day on a matter of supreme importance to both Gondor and Rohan. Dorran was not surprised that Gondor had enlisted his aid. There was a personal understanding between Eomer and Elessar that messengers to either court could be called upon to help when urgent needs arose during their stay.

What surprised Dorran was the nature of Elessar's request. The King had asked him to join a mission to Mordor, helping a band of slaves who had escaped from a plantation found a new community on the Plateau of Gorgoroth. Even more alarming was the fact that his wife was also invited to join the Fellowship. Although Athwen had amazing gifts as a healer and would be an asset on any mission of mercy, his wife lacked skill with weapons and often shrank back when he described to her some minor skirmish in battle from which he had escaped unscathed.

It was not only fear for Athwen's safety that made Dorran hesitent. More than any other member of the Fellowship, the Rider of Rohan knew just how dangerous it was to try and cross the Ash Plain and establish a settlement on Gorgorth. He had spent his youth as a slave in Nurn and made the treacherous journey out of Mordor in company with his sister. Once before, in the years immediately after the fall of Sauron, Dorran had returned to the Plains of Gorgoroth to try and clean out some of the vilest of the Orc gangs. His knowlege of Mordor, its twisted hills and lava-filled plains, had been one of the chief reasons that Elessar had included him in the new mission.

Dorran found it difficult to sort out his own feelings. Part of him feared a return to Mordor. The physical dangers of the trek were considerable but even those paled beside his own dark dreams of childhood. If those dreams afflicted him in Rohan after so many years, how much more likely were they to claim him if he journeyed deep into Mordor? Sauron might be dead and gone, but not for one moment did Dorran believe that the land had been cured of all its ills. Too much darkness remained.

Still, he could not turn his back on this mission and the possibility of helping slaves find a new life. He had sworn once that he would do all within his power to free others from the bondage that he and his family had endured. What better occasion than this? Nor could be deny his wife the chance to accept the king's commission. She might be uncertain at first, but Dorran was convinced that Athwen would never forgive herself if she passed up this chance to lend a hand of healing. It was up to him to help her believe in herself enough to accept this new challenge. There was no question what he must do.

With these thoughts reverberating through his mind, Dorran raced down the street and bounded into the house, running forward to sweep up Athwen within his arms. He leaned down and kissed her on top of the head; his words came tumbling out in excitement, "You have heard the news? The Fellowship of the Fourth Age..... It will not be easy, but how can we say no? There is so much need. Great need, and you and I will face it together just as we did long ago when we travelled the road to Edoras to secure help for the villagers who were threatened by orcs. Come over by the fire, and sit with me. We will talk."

Dorran gently led his wife over to the fireplace. They sat down near each other on the floor and spoke at length, sharing their hopes and fears. By the time the flames in the pit had dwindled to silver ash, their bargain had been made and sealed. Both Athwen and Dorran had agreed to give their consent to the king and journey to the distant land of Mordor in hopes of bringing help to the slaves.

[Tevildo]

Undómë -

What a profile. I can almost smell those Orcs! (Although soft spoken, Dorran is not fond of Orcs.)

Maybe Athwen can get those female Orcs to take a bath? :D

[Undómë]

:eek: Bath! Whatever for?

:D

The profile for my minor character - Granny Brenna, the slave escapee, is now done.

~ U

[piosenniel]

Should I put the other profile and the beginning post in this same box?

Good question! Yes, please put all your characters bios and your First Posts for the game in the same box.

That way, when it's time to transfer the posts to the game thread - it will be much easier to locate them.

Thanks!

~*~ Pio

[Folwren]

Here is my character's character bio. I will get the post written soon.

-- Folwren

_____________________

Folwren's Major Character:

NAME: Athwen

AGE: 39

RACE: Man, of the Rohirrim

GENDER: Female

WEAPONS: None, generally. On this trip, however, she’ll carry a long knife, but nothing more, for she never learned the arts of war or how to use any weapon.

APPEARANCE: Short of stature - 5 feet and no inches. Slender and small. She has not lost her shape from child bearing, for she hasn’t had any children. Clear, dark and brilliantly blue eyes, waist length, wavy, golden blond hair, and a lightly tanned face.

PERSONALITIES/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Athwen is a gentle, calm woman, acquainted with danger, hardships, and intense sorrow, but having lived through all of them, has come out stronger and better able to meet the world. She is very observant of other people’s feelings and is able to relate to many different people. This is a good thing, as her husband, Dorran, doesn’t always like to speak much about his feelings, and sometimes Athwen has to really look for them.

She is optimistic most of the time and does her best to stay cheerful and keep everyone around here cheerful, too. Her personality is naturally bright and bubbly, and though that has been tamed by her past and her years, she is still pleasant.

Of course, there are times when she gets sad and withdrawn, at when that happens, she isn’t very talkative, nor very out going. These lapses come from dreams and feelings from her past, which was stormy and very difficult. They pass and after a few days, no one can tell they ever came.

HISTORY: Athwen was born twenty years before the War of the Ring, the middle child of five kids. She lived in a small hamlet somewhere in the realm of Rohan. There she lived her entire life, never leaving the area, until she was sixteen. Only a couple months after her sixteenth birth-date, ravaging orcs of Saruman came through and burned her village, killing everybody. Only she and an elderly healer survived. The healer hid beneath his home - Athwen was gone riding at the time of the attack. When she returned, she found the village in flames, and all the people dead.

Athwen would have died there, too, if a group of young riders had not passed that way. They took compassion on her and took her and Leod (the healer) into their company of riders. Dorran was a young man part of that group of riders. He was only a few months older than she. (This is also told about in Outracing the Flames RPG.)

She rode with them all the way to Edoras. She lived near that city in the stronghold of an Eorl of the Mark for the next several years. While she was there, before, during and a little bit after the War of the Ring, she studied under Leod and learned the arts of healing. In the year 6 of the 4th age, she and Dorran were married.

Since then, thirteen years have passed. Athwen has had no children, and the couple has accepted that she probably never will. Dorran works under the King Eomer and Athwen spends her time doctoring the poorer people of Edoras (she doesn’t worry about pay too much since Dorran can easily support her and her practice without any children to feed and clothe). She loves working with children especially, and with doing so, has gotten very good at setting bones and tending nasty, infected cuts and sores.

_______________________________________________


Folwren's post - Athwen

“Mistress Athwen, will it be alright?” the little boy asked.

Athwen smiled sweetly without looking up from her work. “Yes, it will be fine, so long as you do as you’re told and don’t touch it.” She gently swabbed at the cut with a clean, wet cloth. “That’s a nasty scratch you got yourself, lad,” she said. “How did you manage it?”

“My brother got me with a stick,” the boy replied. With his unwounded arm, he drew his sleeve across his nose. “Mum can’t stand the sight of blood and it hurt something awful. Are you sure it’ll be alright?”

Athwen nodded again to his urgent question. “Yes. Especially after I wrap it up. What was your brother doing with a sharp pointed stick?” She knew better than to add ‘he could have killed you with something like that!’, though it was obviously clear from the cut the child’s stick had inflicted. She asked herself mentally if all Gondorian boys were so violent.

“We were playing battle. Our father fought years ago in a great war and he tells about killing trolls and all kind of things. Berl was supposed to be the troll and I was Father because I’m smaller, but he didn’t like being the troll and he got mad.” Athwen nodded understandingly. She held the arm gently in her hand while she put down the wet cloth and picked up a roll of bandaging cloth. “Will that hurt?” her young patient demanded, stiffening. “When you wrap it around it, won’t it hurt?”

“Actually, it will feel good. I promise you it won’t hurt. Now, hold your arm out for me. I need both my hands to do this.” The boy obeyed and Athwen wrapped the arm from the wrist to nearly the elbow. She tied it on, securely but gently. “There you go, my man,” she said, stepping back. “You’re all patched up.” She smiled at him before turning away to talk to the boy’s mother, sitting nearby. “I’ve bandaged it up. The wrap will stay, so long as he doesn’t touch it. It will not stay on tonight when he sleeps, though, unless it is re-wrapped and re-tied carefully and he doesn’t toss and turn much in his sleep.”

“Will he be alright?” the woman asked anxiously, standing up.

“Yes, he’ll be fine. I cleaned it out and you came to me directly, so no infection had already settled in. I suggest you take away the sharp play things from your boys, though. You might have worse things to handle next time. Tomorrow morning, wash it again with soap and clean water. If you have any oil from the olive or any lavender, put that on it, and then wrap it with new cloth. Keep it wrapped gently until it scabs, and then be sure that he doesn’t pick at it.”

“We will. Thank you so much!”

“You’re welcome,” Athwen replied with a smile. She nodded goodbye and waved to the boy as the two of them left.

Athwen turned to wash her hands and then clean up her work place. She was fastening the lid of the box with bandages and ointments when a knock came at the door. Her hands paused in their work, and then with a sigh, she stood up.

“I didn’t want another patient just now. I want Dorran.” But she still prepared a smile as she opened the door.

Instead of a young mother holding the hand of a crying child as Athwen half expected, there stood on the doorstep a young man wearing the black and white livery of the Citadel. She blinked in surprise.

“Lady Athwen?” the man asked. She nodded, expectant. “I was to deliver this to you.” He extended a letter and she reached out to get it.

“Thank you!” she said. He bowed and turned to walk away. She watched him go until he went out the gate into the road, then her eyes turned towards the letter. On the front of it her name had been written in black, swirling ink. Turning it over, she saw and recognized the impression of the king’s ring in the sealing wax. Again she had cause to blink her dark lashes at it.

Without looking up away from the letter, she closed the door and walked to the same chair that the boy’s mother had sat in. She lowered herself into it and then gently broke the wax. The fine, cream colored parchment made a soft crinkling sound as she opened it. The king’s seal was at the top and the letter that ran below it. She read the entire thing over once. . .twice, and then she put it down on her knees. Her blue eyes scanned the room in front of her. They passed over the table and chairs where she and her husband ate, the cupboards where dishes and food was kept, the pitcher of water standing on the counter, and the door leading back to another room. Then she picked up the letter again and read it a third time.

‘. . .to go with the fellowship to cure and to heal as your skills are required along the way. . .’

“To free the slaves and help them live on their own?” Athwen whispered. “He wants me to go? Clearly that’s what he’s asking. . .” She sat upright and refolded the letter. It would wait until Dorran returned and they could talk it over. His name was written on the list beneath the letter, but she didn’t know if he had accepted. They would discuss it when he returned home. Would he accept the mission himself? She knew what he had gone through in his past and she also knew how horrible it was for old memories to be stirred up. If he did not go, he would not want her to go, either, and she would not wish to go alone anyway.

She stood up and put the letter on the table. There it would wait until Dorran returned. Athwen put her hands to work, cleaning the house that was practically entirely clean already. Her mind turned the contents of the letter over and over again. Alone, though, she could not make up her mind of whether she wanted to go or not. But was it even a request? Or was it an order?

Whatever it was, it would wait until Dorran was home.



______________________________________

Folwren's Minor Character:

NAME: Kwell Dunfire

AGE: 13

RACE: Unknown, by both of us.

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: A heavy, weighty stick about as tall as he is.

APPEARANCE: Kwell, having not yet had his real growth spurt yet, is still only 4’10”. He is built squarely with short legs and a short, powerful looking (even though he’s still a boy) torso. His arms, of course, have not yet developed the muscles of a man. His skin is dark, almost the olive looking color of skin, dark brown eyes that sometimes look black, sharp nose, small mouth, often pulled down on one side into a scowl. He has brown, very straight hair cut short.

PERSONALITIES: Kwell is drawn back within himself – quiet and slow to communicate with anyone he hasn’t known long. He is swift to anger and very quickly becomes impatient and harsh, and while he does trap it and keep it back, it is very clearly visible on his face and the way he moves and reacts to people around him. He rarely smiles, and never laughs. Whether or not he has a weak spot and may somehow become gentle in some way towards something or someone, I don’t know.

HISTORY: Born into slavery in Mordor, Kwell has worked all his life in the fields under the supervision and whip of orc slave drivers. There he learned to become angry, and to store it, and to pack it in and to let it out stealthily and in ways that would not get him into more trouble. He remembers none of his family, being taken away (sold) when he was just a toddler.

Kwell has lived on the same plantation all his life. He is unfriendly to most people there, but a few of the slaves he did attach himself with. One was an older man, intelligent, sharp, and quiet. But not long ago, he was killed at the whim of the one of the orcs. He was getting old and couldn’t do as much work. It didn’t matter if he died. Kwell was badly affected and became even more angry and hateful towards the orcs and even the other slaves. It was partially because of this man slave’s death that he joined the desperate group of slaves who tried to escape.

[Durelin]

Well, if you feel you can handle a minor character, Folwren, I don't see why not. Just: if you ever find you are unable of carrying him along and/or for any reason he kinda 'gets in the way' (which I doubt, as a minor character), would you be adverse to him meeting his death? (Thought I'd ask, just in case...)

But yes, I'm fine with it as long as Child is.

I have a question for you, Undome, about your minor character - is she an ex-slave as in part of the gang? Because if so, it would be well if you could explain that very briefly. I know minor characters only need brief bios, but since Khamir will have to have some kind of relationship with her, it would be nice to know.

The gang was kinda a rough bunch, so I that's why I'm so curious. There's no problem with your character as long as you find a way for her to fit into the gang.

Otherwise she can simply be a slave escapee.

Oh, and (this is to everyone) please say something if there is any confusion about the difference between 'ex-slaves' and 'slave escapees.'

Great bios everyone!

[Folwren]

Well, if you feel you can handle a minor character, Folwren, I don't see why not. Just: if you ever find you are unable of carrying him along and/or for any reason he kinda 'gets in the way' (which I doubt, as a minor character), would you be adverse to him meeting his death? (Thought I'd ask, just in case...)

But yes, I'm fine with it as long as Child is.


I'll wait until Child gets back, then, because she was the one who said no.

To answer your question (very reasonable question, too) - adverse, no. Reluctant, I would be, unless I so poorly developed him that I didn't care. But orders would be orders and I wouldn't not do it. I tend to like most of my characters, so of course there'd have to be some reluctance to do it, but I would if it came to it.

Does that satisfy you? Or will you change your mind now? Really, I'm at your mercy concerning this. I won't do it without both of your girls' permission.

-- Folwren

[Orofaniel]

B. Inhabitants of Mordor

1 Ex-slave (male) – PLAYER NEEDED

Hi.

Can I play the Ex-slave? :p

[Firefoot]

Oro! Haven't seen you around in a while. :)

Folwren, why so reluctant to kill of characters? It's fun. :p In a depressing sort of way.

As for my bio... soon. Before the end of the week for sure. First post to shortly follow.

[Undómë]

Too lazy to expand the bio -- will make Granny (EDITED) a slave escapee

Pio - please change me on the lists.

~ U

[Durelin]

Can I play the Ex-slave?

Well, as long as you have a bio and first post that works out, I believe so! Good to see you again, Oro. :D

Also, we'll have to discuss a minor character, and any times when you will be absent over the course of the game. We ask that everyone play a minor character, because we want every group well represented in the game. So, it is up to you if you play another ex-slave as your minor character, a slave-escapee, or an Orc.

Folwren - I was just curious as to your feelings about it. I am not looking to kill off any of your characters because I am bloodthirsty (bloodthirsty I may be, but I do have self-control), I simply wanted to know in case we run into any trouble with you being absent from playing either one of your characters.

Also, Firefoot, your choice of minor character is still up to you, as well.

[Durelin]

Too lazy to expand the bio -- will make the sisters slave escapees

Ah, sorry, I was referring to your minor character, Granny Brenna.

The Orcs are of course part of the rebel Orcs. There are no Orc slaves.

Sorry for any confusion.

But I see that Pio has already changed your minor character to a 'slave escapee' on the list.

EDIT: Ah, all is changed. Terribly sorry.

Now I feel like I was losing my mind from the start... :rolleyes: ;)

[Folwren]

Folwren, why so reluctant to kill of characters? It's fun. :p In a depressing sort of way.

Because! What's the darn good of developing a character and then killing him, unless there is some great lesson to learn? And even then, it's devistating! I've cried for hours (well, not for HOURS, but I cried a lot) over killing a simply wonderful character. . .and there was a good reason for killing her. It was sad, and I don't always like sad. Not when it comes to killing a poor person that I created. (I would hate being God.) :(

Now, Durelin and Child - don't get the wrong impression. I will be sure to write this character with the knowledge in mind that I may have to end up killing him, and I probably won't cry for him. Okay?

-- Folwren

[piosenniel]

Done, U. And changed your bio.

[Hilde Bracegirdle]

Sorry to jump in in the middle of a conversation, just wanted to check-in and say that I am currently working up Carl's bio. Once that is done I will try to catch up ASAP with the thread here! My, but it seems to be growing rapidly! :)

[Orofaniel]

Firefoot: I know... :) I'm looking forwards to "ex-slaving" with you..Hahaha. ;)



Well, as long as you have a bio and first post that works out, I believe so! Good to see you again, Oro.

Also, we'll have to discuss a minor character, and any times when you will be absent over the course of the game. We ask that everyone play a minor character, because we want every group well represented in the game. So, it is up to you if you play another ex-slave as your minor character, a slave-escapee, or an Orc.


You too, Durelin. :)

I'll start writing my main character description + post now. As for the minor character: I will write a BIO for a slave-escapee, if that is alright.

As for the times I'll be absent: May I come back to you later on that?

Thanks for letting me play,
Oro

[Regin Hardhammer]

Hello everyone,

Just wanted to check in and see how the game is progressing. Right now I am working on my profile and first post. It is not clear to me what the first post for the orcs should be. Should my first post be my decision to join the rebel orcs and set out on the trail going north or should it be something else? My minor character will be a female orc if that is okay.

I am looking forward to playing in this game with so many great writers,

My vacation times....mostly I won't be on vacation, :D but I will be gone later in August to start college. That will be about August 23- 28. It may take a few days to get settled in and start posting again--not too long I hope.

- Regin

[Undómë]

Regin H

I was planning to write my first Orc-post starting the night prior to the rebel Orcs leaving the group.

Mazhg has heard some of the women talking about getting away from the main Orc group. They don't want to be killed in the nearing battle. The plan she heard is to slip away in the early, even pre-dawn hours, in small groups of ones and two's maybe and meet up somewhere a good ways away, towards where the sun sets, from the main group.

Your male Orc could be waiting for the rest of us like an advance guard or could be just coming along like my two sisters.

How does that sound?

~ U

[Child of the 7th Age]

Just got a note from Novnarwen that she will be doing an ex-slave as well. She didn't mention gender so I will ask her to post that on this thread.

It seems as if we have a goodly contingent of slaves now. If anyone else appears, it wouldn't hurt to have an extra Orc, especially male.

Pio - I've edited the character list to reflect Regin's minor Orc and Novnarwen's major Ex- slave.

Folwren - If you feel you can handle a minor character, please go ahead. I am sure you will manage just fine.

Oro, Firefoot, Regin - Welcome to the game! And thanks to everyone who has already posted their profile.

[piosenniel]

Tevildo

I've put your 12 y/o old female slave down as part of the escapee slaves - is that good for you?

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

Folwren

I've put your young boy slave down as part of the escapee slaves - is that good for you?

[Tevildo]

Sounds good.

[Novnarwen]

Checking in..

For my main character, I'll play a female ex-slave. However, I'm still quite early into the writing process of this character, and there still might be a chance it'll turn into a man in the end, though I hope that won't happen. (Sounds rather odd, I know, but determining the gender of a character is most definitely the hardest thing about this process... :p )

For a minor character, I'd love to play a male Orc. :)

Hopefully, bios and post will be up by the end of the week!

I look forward to gaming with all of you!

Thanks,
Nova

[Folwren]

My first post is up with my bio. It's sadly long, but I was having fun.

Thanks so much for letting me have a minor character!! I'll have his post up sometime today or tomorrow. :D

Cheers everyone!

-- Folwren

[Firefoot]

If it's Orcs we're needing, I'd be glad to have one for my minor character. He can be male.

[Regin Hardhammer]

Here is the profile for my main character. Thank you Undomie for your advice. I will station my character as an advanced gaurd for the party.

- Regin


NAME: Ishkur

AGE: Does not know

RACE: Orc

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS:

Ishkur has a curved steel scimitar that he keeps in a sheath by his side. He wears an iron helmet, slightly rusted, with a visor that conceals most of his face when it is down as well as a suit of chain mail and an old iron shield emblazoned with the eye of Sauron.

His weapon of choice, however, is his large yew bow, which he is very skilled in using. He also has a quiver made of marsh reeds and arrows that he made himself from the precious few trees that he could find in Nurn. He does not remember where he got the bow, though he has used the weapon his whole life. The bow has intricate and unusual carvings and is unlike anything that other Orcs possess.

APPEARANCE: Ishkur is unusually tall for a traditional orc, around six feet in height. He is strong and muscular, although not as bulky as some of his companions. He has dark brown eyes with large black pupils that constantly dart around to spot trouble. His hair is a wild, thick, dark black mess on the top of his head that looks like an overgrown shrubbery. His teeth have fared fairly well given their age, most of them still hanging in his mouth, sharp and stained a pale shade of yellow. Like most orcs, he detests baths. His ears are large and curiously shaped, causing others to make occasional jokes, which he cannot stand. He wears a faded black cloth shirt, frayed and torn at the edges, long brown wool hose, and a pair of leather boots he scavenged from one of his human victims in battle.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES:

Ishkur feels very strongly that he must take control of his own fate and not let others lead him around. He dislikes many orcs and often assumes that they are trying to take advantage of him. As a result, he does not have too many friends and sometimes feel antagonistic toward any who try and help him. He reserves special scorn, however, for his Uruk-Hai commander whom he sees as arrogant and conceited. Ishkur despises taking orders from him and is planning to desert and set out on his own. He hates the Uruk-Hai in particular because, during the late Third Age, these orcs were given the most desirable assignments, yet Ishkur always knew that he was smarter and just as fierce a fighter as any Uruk.

Ishkur never flinches from a confrontation. He is incredibly independent and often completes the task at hand while others delay because they are fooling around. Ishkur is unusually articulate for an orc and even uses words to trick his dim witted competitors. In the course of thousands of years he has indulged in many vices including pillaging villages, eating human flesh, and killing any elf or man that gets in his way.

He does not like that there are so many females in the group that he will be escaping with, but he is willing to travel with them as long as they don’t drag the group down

HISTORY:

Ishkur does not like thinking about his past because he can not remember anything from early in his life. He tries to block out these questions whenever they come to mind. Although Orcs do not have families, most of them can name their mother or father, but Ishkur is totally in the dark. He has seen generations of orcs die from illness and battle wounds, and he does not understand why he still remains alive. Ishkur remains quite secretive about his long lifespan and has never talked about it with anyone.

Ishkur’s earliest memories are of serving Morgoth in the Iron Prison of Angband during the time of the great wars with the elves. Ishkur survived the slaughter in Beleriand and, following Morgoth’s imprisonment, enlisted in Sauron’s service. After Sauron established himself in the black land of Mordor, Ishkur went with him, continuing to battle against Elves and men for many centuries.

For the past hundred years he has not seen much fighting since Sauron stationed him to guard over the slaves of a large plantation in Nurn. After the War of the Ring, when the Easterling landlords took over, many of the Orc guards fled the plantations. At this point Ishkur signed on with a local Orc chieftain. Now he has become frustrated with the stupidity of his group leader and decided to join the rebel faction. In this way, he hopes to stop others from boxing him in and have the chance to chart his own path.

________________________

Profile for Minor Character


NAME: Ungolt

AGE: 28

RACE: Orc

GENDER: Female

WEAPONS: Like most orc women, Ungolt has never been trained to fight with weapons. She has a large oaken club fashioned out of a fallen tree that she uses to kill game. Although Ungolt has not told anyone, she longs to fight with real weapons and wield a sword or spear of her own. She knows that in orc society those who are the best fighters earn the most respect. But she also sees that orcs frown upon teaching women combat and do not allow them to fight in battle so that it is very unlikely she will ever realize her dream.

APPEARANCE: Ungolt stands about 5”2 inches tall with dark grey skin and clear dark blue eyes. Once in a while she will even take a swim in a river and emerge relatively clean. . Her dark brown hair is straight and long, filled with tangles and tight knots. She does not have large muscles, but is extremely quick on her feet and dexterous with her hands. By orc standards she is good looking and sometimes attracts the attention of male orcs, in whom she has no interest.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES:
Being confined to orc breeding colonies all her life, Ungolt was forced to toughen up and find a way to survive. Over the years she has become increasingly numb and lost the ambitions she once had. She acts meekly and defers to authority because she was powerless in the hands of the males who controlled her life. Even after her escape, she continues to defer to the male orcs, both out of necessity and habit. She keeps her true feelings and wishes to herself.

All her life, she was forced to steal and lie in order to stay alive. She has no concept of morality and does not realize how her actions affect others. Ungolt always takes the easiest way out of a situation instead of the one that may benefit her in the long run. She has questions about her abilities and potential, yet these remain buried deep inside. Her anger against male orcs has always stayed hidden, but there is some indication that it may surface and explode if she’s forced to work with the men in a small and close knit band.

HISTORY: Ungolt does not know where she was born and does not remember who her birthmother was. From an early age she was working in the fields tilling the soil. Ungolt slowly began to increase her knowledge of crop farming and remember useful details from one harvest to the next. She saw which plants to put where, what kind of food was best for what crop, and what time of year each plant was ready for harvest. She learned these things almost unconsciously at the time, but it is possible they will be of great use later. She was sent to work in the breeding grounds at an early age because of her desirable appearance. Every day she would go to work and come back tired with little memory of what had transpired. The one thing she really missed was working on the land. After the fall of the great eye, she escaped from her farm and settled in a nearby community in Nurn. When she heard that the Easterlings were about to make war with the orcs she decided to join the rebels because she did not want to be hurt.

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

Regin Hardhammer's post - Ishkur

Ishkur glared angrily at the small rock that he had been kicking around the dirt path. He was beginning to regret requesting advance guard duty. Ishkur hated waiting for others particularly when he had absolutely nothing to do. His mission as he vaguely recalled was to scout out the best path of leaving the orc encampment and guide others along it until they were safely out of range. A few hours ago, Ishkur had quietly slipped away and found a trail hidden by the cover of a grove of small trees not far from the southern edge of camp. He had told the others and now waited impatiently for the exodus of rebellious orcs to begin.

The minutes and hours dragged on. It was the women, he thought in exasperation. They always took a long time to move anywhere. Most of them were slow and weak and only served to drag down the group. It had been better when they were kept on separate breeding farms. The longer he waited, the greater the chance that their plot would be detected, and they would all be killed. A group of fifteen orcs fleeing the encampment was ample cause for suspicion by even the most inept captain in a bunch of dim witted misfits. Ishkur would have preferred simply leaving with a small group of male warriors, a much faster and safer plan, but such a dream was not to be. Even Ishkur grudgingly recognized that if their group had any hope of surviving on their own they would need more than a few male warriors. Numbers meant strength and safety. Individual orcs had always been regarded with disdain.

In all his years on Middle-earth, Ishkur had never before been part of a group that ran away from the orc band to which they were assigned. Of course, Ishkur was not participating in this little experiment just to be noble. No, he simply could not stand being lorded over by the pathetic Uruk-hai, the arrogant and overbearing leaders that controlled every facet of life within camp. The idiots thought because they could tolerate the harsh rays of the sun for hours on end they held some sort of superiority over the other orcs. His commander barked orders to his men with an air of marked contempt. He treated Ishkur as inferior, a class below him in intelligence, strength, and capability. The plain fact was that Ishkur was probably a match in fighting with any Uruk-hai and definitely had more brains.

Ishkur had tolerated such vile treatment far too long until he had finally decided to act. He would go with this new group, and they would stake out a territory far to the north of Nurn. From the moment he heard whispers about the expedition in the late hours of drinking around the campfire, he knew that he must join them. They would have the opportunity to go hunting and raiding on their own and would have no need for anyone to approve of what they did. He volunteered to be an advanced guard because he did not want to stay behind and help the weaker ones escape, but he found waiting ahead of the group agonizing. Ishkur returned to kicking the rock, hoping that it would be more interesting than staring in the direction of the orc encampment and wondering how quickly the others would come.

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

[Undómë]

Nice bio, Regin!


My post is now up for the two sisters.

~*~ U

[Tevildo]

I have put up the profile for my minor character in my box. I left off the history section, which I hope is alright.

p.s. Correction .... I gave Azhar a two-sentence history. I think it says everything that could be said for anyone living in this situation.

[Thinlómien]

Just dropping in and announcing I'm alive (and playing at least one minor character later in the game) and I'm following the thread.

As my character(s) is/are coming in only in August, I assume there's no hurry for me to plan him/her/them. So, maybe nearer to August we could take a look what kind of minor character(s) the story needs.

[Novnarwen]

Profile for Major Character -- Slave escapee


NAME Aedhild

AGE: Unknown, though it is estimated to be between 42-52.

GENDER: Female

RACE: Men

WEAPONS: None, except for a sharp tongue (occasionally) and finger nails.

APPEARANCE Aedhild is a slave in appearance; the sufferings she has endured have scarred her. Her head was once covered with dark brown hair; over the last years though, grey strands of hair have become dominant. Due to blows to her head (punishment for inappropriate behaviour, few months after coming to the plantation), hair growth on the right side, just above the ear, has not occurred. This baldness is particularly visible now as her hair is thinner. Her thin face is dominated by her cool, grey eyes, which are abnormally glossy, giving her a sickly look. They appear to have a certain depth; some would perhaps say they reflected the complexity and insecurities of her character, others would claim they merely reflect her insanity. She has a delicate mouth, nicely formed lips, dull red in colour. Her nose is small and the tip is round and slightly asymmetric. Though her skin is rather dark, she appears pale and sickly. Her cheeks have sunk in, leaving her cheekbones as a prominent feature of her face. Figure wise, Aedhild is skinny and rather short. She is dressed in rags of cheap, brown and green fabric, stained to the unrecognizable by mud and other filth.

PERSONALITY: Aedhild’s personality is heavily dominated by her internal struggles. She has no roots and no or little knowledge about her background and family. Her history, her lack of memories of life without the hardships of slavery at a plantation have mainly, but not necessarily restricted to, led to abnormal and strange behaviour patterns; she assumes roles and characters at different times, not being entirely able to control or comprehend it herself. Sometimes she is violent, indeed a danger to herself, but more importantly however, a danger to others. This type of behaviour is most commonly triggered when exhausted from a day’s work or particularly hungry or cold. Under the extreme conditions she has lived her life, this behaviour has occurred at regular intervals, and though she behaves threateningly and is capable of doing unimaginable things, this has saved her lives on many occasions; the spontaneous and determined character she adopts at the same time was ultimately what managed to get her away from the plantation and slavery.

In addition to this illness or syndrome, she suffers from regular fits, which sometimes results in loss of consciousness. These fits started many years ago, after repetitive blows to the stomach and back regions, and the head. (She was beaten as a punishment for her most inappropriate behaviour (threatening one of the plantations guards), and was almost left to die in the field if it hadn’t been for some of the other slaves taking care of her.) The fits, which come irregularly and without warning, have greatly alarmed her when herself (if she ever really is herself), because they do not seem to cease over time; Aedhild might not be aware of how quickly she can change from being a silent, humble patient, but more importantly a vulnerable person, to an angry, violent (at times completely out of control) and irreversibly determined person, she is aware of the danger of the fits that occasionally occur. This weakness and vulnerability frightens her.

These difficulties have also made other people reserved in her presence; although at most times very absent-minded, Aedhild is not stupid; she is perfectly aware of people’s hesitation in approaching her either in friendship or any other relations. This awareness has made her very vulnerable, and she usually isolates herself, not wanting to be part of a bigger crowd. It also seems that her understanding of other people’s fears and hesitation trigger, if not the fits, than at least the more threatening behaviour patterns.

HISTORY: Aedhild has few memories of life prior to working at the plantations in Mordor. She has counted about twenty seven years at the plantations, but know that she was a grown woman, healthy and youthful, by the time she came to Mordor. Estimated age is in the range of 42-52. Although some features of her appearance bear resemblance to that of the Haradrim, it’s doubtful that she is a ‘full-blood’ Haradrim.

Aedhild remembers awakening by screams of horror. Suddenly, she found herself in the grasp of a horrid creature she had never set her eyes on before. Although there were a couple of people she thought she recognized, she recalls being numb and absolutely dumbfounded, unable to utter a single word; shocked by finding herself in the hands of an Orc, her body sore and aching, Aedhild could not do anything but stand still, unable to comprehend what was happening. Taken to a plantation in the eastern part of the region, she never saw the people she thought she recognized, perhaps knew in what seems to her another lifetime. The days, weeks, years after coming to the plantation have been nothing but hard work. When young, she worked in the fields, seeing to the crops and harvesting during fall. When time caught up with her, she was set to do other work, equally exhausting. During the time at the plantations as a slave, Aedhild has endured hardships that have aged her both mentally and physically.

Escaping from the plantation had been a rather spontaneous action; she and a dozen other slaves were to be transported to a nearby plantation. Although the escape seemed to have been planned by some of the other slaves, Aedhild had not been involved in any of the planning, and even to this day, she suspect that there was a hidden agenda behind their decision not to confide in her with their intentions. Regardless of her ignorance, Aedhild managed to escape with some of the other slaves nevertheless; some failed to escape, either killed by the Orcs who were involved in the transportation, or taken alive, their destiny unknown. Quickly, Aedhild found herself alone. Never in her wildest dreams would she imagine herself on her own. However, outside of the plantation, she was struck by the realisation that slavery had imprinted too many marks on her to be solely depended on herself. With no known roots, the discovery that she had nowhere to go was hard to bear; at one point, Aedhild even thought of going back to the plantation, even if it meant death.

One morning, six weeks after her successful escape, she stumbled upon some footprints, which eventually led her to the caves...

~*~



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


Novnarwen's post - Aedhild


"Everywhere! They are everywhere! The devils!" Aedhild shrieked and cursed. It was early morning; the wet grass under her feet witnessed of the damp night air. The sun hadn't even rolled over the horizon, and yet, the ex-slave was up, growling. Her shrilly voice echoed; as the sound of her voice hit the stone walls of the caves, it sent out a wave of roars and noise, awakening the rest of the camp. With a peculiar expression, she jumped up and down, sprang from one side to another, twitching and shaking. The excitement reflected in her eyes seemed to belong to a being of another world; her movements were awkward and alien.

Few of the ex-slaves didn’t know that Aedhild was a highly unusual character. Already from the very beginning, they had noticed that she was different from most other they had stumbled upon in life; not only did she act irresponsibly and without thinking, but it had also become known amongst them that it was impossible to predict how she would respond to any given situation. In some cases, they would find her sitting quietly, completely avoiding eye contact, and keeping silent for hours and in rare cases days at a time. Occasionally on those particular days, she would perhaps mutter a few words, but no one could make out their meaning. Other times however, she would scream, curse, yes, act very much in the same way as she was acting now. These times, she would narrow her eyes suspiciously, walk about, and snap at people who appeared in any way she didn’t like or approve of. Unfortunately for everyone else, no one knew exactly what she did approve of. On these walkabouts, threats would roll any of the ex-slave's way, regardless of whether she had set her eyes on them before or not. The rest of the slaves had come to an agreement; though not spoken out loud, everyone seemed to share the same view on this particular matter; in sheer fright that Aedhild would do harm to anyone, or herself, sharp objects such as knives and daggers were kept from her.

“Lice! They are everywhere!” Bleary eyed and tense with excitement, the woman looked wildly around at the small group of people that surrounded her. Pointing fingers at all of them, she cursed violently, accusing each and every of them of conspiracies; her paranoia seemed endless. “You! You traitor! You have come to give us in, you sneaky scoundrel! Hand us over to them, think you are?!” As she spoke, saliva rained from her mouth. Her voice was cool and desperate, the volume increasing by a notch for every word: “He did this!” she continued, pointing directly toward a bearded youngster. “He spread those foul creatures, sent them to drive me mad! You filthy sc-sc...!!!!” Her words drowned in her screams as she sprang forwards; both her arms outstretched, she aimed for him. Terrified by this extreme behaviour and unexpected turn of events, the man named Eirnar took a few steps back, desperately looking around for a helping hand.

No on knew exactly where Aedhild came from; none of the slaves recognized her from the plantation they'd served, and even Aedhild hadn’t been able to explain in detail where she had worked and about her origins. Of appearance, she was a short, skinny woman, her skin dark, something that definitely could suggest that she was a Haradrim or of similar heritage. Other features gave another impression however, and since most people were growing tired of speculating about other slaves’ origins, Aedhild remained like many others; a slave with no past, who had just recently found freedom, the latter being obviously the most important point of focus. Aedhild was neither remarkably ugly, nor remarkably pretty. Her once perhaps handsome face seemed aged with the hardships she had endured. Her cheekbones had become slightly too prominent in her face during the last couple of years to make her appear beautiful, but her mouth was delicately formed and gave if not a pleasant appearance at least a hint of kindness. Sadly, the pallor of her face was sickly, and her pair of unusually grey, glossy eyes seemed to dominate her face altogether now. As her age was starting to show, her once dark brown hair was thinning with a hurried pace, and the bald spot on the right side of her head seemed to become more and more obvious. Years of abuse and beatings had marked her, more than she would ever come to realise herself.

As she came nearer, she closed her right hand into a fist. Still screaming, she hit him with all her might. It is difficult to say whether it was the power of that particular blow or if it was the shock of being hit by a stranger, a supposed ally, that made Eirnar stagger for a moment; regaining his balance however, he quickly managed to manoeuvre out of her way, avoiding a second blow. With one hand caressing his already red cheek, he grasped a hold of the short woman with the other. Aedhild wailed in horror; she kicked, spat and cursed, trying to loosen the man’s grip; “You traitor! You want to take me back! ”

Their eyes met for second; her grey eyes cool, but still empty of emotions. With a quick blow, Eirnar struck her unconscious. She never heard the man uttering a few words: "That will calm you down." Only those close by could hear the heavy heartedness in the tone of his voice.


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

MINOR CHARACTER


Nonarwen's character - ex=slave

NAME: Eirnar

AGE: 29

GENDER: Male

RACE: Man of Gondor

WEAPONS: A rather robust knife he stole from an Orc as he fled. He's also made himself a club/bat-looking object of hard wood.

APPEARANCE: Eirnar is tall and skinny, but yet stout, with broad shoulders. He has a pleasant and friendly face; small, grey eyes, big nose and gloriously red lips. His chin is covered by a short brown beard. Like the other slaves, Eirnar is dressed in rags. He wars a pair of short pants and a grey shirt; on top of it, he wears a long, brown frockcoat of thin fabric.

PERSONALITY: Despite the sufferings he has endured as a slave, Eirnar is considered to be a both positive and outgoing person. Having escaped slavery, he has been given hope for a better future; his sufferings at the plantations have made him realise that he is very lucky to have escaped alive, and he values everything about his new existence, even though life is hard and primitive yet. He has great expectations for the future, and will rather take his own life than go back to being a slave.

Though the Gondorian isn't particularly bright, he is a man of action and very hardworking. Often, he rushes into situations and isn't always able to imagine the consequences of his actions. Sometimes, he isn't as thorough in his work as others perhaps hope he would be. He is on the other hand very humble, and glad to acknowledge his mistakes and do something to make up for them.

HISTORY: During the early years of the war against Sauron, Eirnar and his family were taken from Gondor to serve as slaves at the plantations in Mordor. His parents served at the same plantation as himself, but he was separated from his sister. At first, Eirnar wasn't able to handle his new existence and resisted it. Time after time, he was beaten. Soon enough however, he learned that as long as he was so young and weak resistance wouldn't get him anywhere. Eirnar managed to flee from the plantation some 3-5 years ago (he has lost track of time). He regrets the fact that his mother was too old to be able to follow, that his father died few months before his escape and that his sister seems lost to him forever.



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

Durelin, Child - If you want me to change anything, I am happy to rewrite. :) Just let me know. :D

Thanks for your patience,
Nova

PS! I will be away a couple of days in early July, and a couple of days late July. I hope that won't be a problem... I should be able to catch up and write at least a post to insert somewhere...

[Durelin]

Nice bio, Novnarwen, and it's really good to see you again!

There's only one issue - the ex-slaves are a gang, you know, a tough bunch, who did routine raids until they ran into the group of slave-escapees. You've mentioned adding something to her history, and perhaps that might fit her into the gang somehow. I'm definitely not saying 'no' to your character, just asking that you fit her into the gang somehow. She could be a woman of any age. The gang's not a horrible bunch. But they're a practical bunch, I'm thinking, and everyone would have had their place until the recent escapees showed up. (Once they showed up, they had all these pesky hapless men, women, and children running around... :p )

She probably would have been free for a little while at least (and quite possibly years), and would have a kind of place as a part of the 'gang.' And she quite possibly would also be armed with a knife/dagger of some sort, and not be afraid to use it...remember, practical. ;) I don't want you to have to make a great deal of adjustments, so if you need help fitting her in somehow, just let me know.

At least, that's how I see things. Please, strike me down Child if you perceive things differently.

[Orofaniel]

NAME: Reagonn (Ree-a-gonn) Ex-slave

AGE: In his twenties.

RACE: Human

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: An old dagger, and a knife he keeps in his belt at all times.

APPEARANCE: Reagonn is skinny and slim, which gives the impression that he is taller than he really is. He is weak and pale, due to the hard work at the plantation for several years. Reagonn looks far older than he actually is because if his grey eyes which are filled with the horrors and cruelty he has experienced in his life thus far. Reagonn wears an old dirty shirt with several holes and rips, and pants that are too short for him. His boots will no longer stay dry when exposed to water, a clear sign that they are worn-out and in need of replacement. His shabby looking appearance dominated by the scars in his face, and the long busy dark hair, might seem intimidating to some.

PERSONALITY: Reagonn is a quite intelligent and when rested and well he is not easily distracted. Under the cruel circumstances in which he has spent most of his life, he has learned to be observant, a skill proven very advantageous to him in the past. Reagonn does not easily trust people, nor does he feel any loyalty to anyone but himself. He cannot help feeling betrayed, or abandoned by his parents, (although it was never confirmed that they actually did abandon him), thus he cannot let go of the bitterness inside of him. Reagonn is a good speaker and can easily get his ideas across to others.

Reagonn gets frustrated in situations where one ought to keep one’s head cool however, which makes him vulnerable and sometimes even weak.

HISTORY: Reagonn has no memory whatsoever about his origins. He knows that he was taken into slavery as a young child. He does not know anything about his parents, whether they are still alive, living on a plantation, dead or whether they joined the forces of Mordor when Sauron still ruled. Nor does he care. He has always felt this sense of being abandoned by them, yet it cannot be confirmed that they actually did abandon him.

Throughout the years of slavery, he lost track of time, which explains he fact that he does not know his exact age.

Shortly after the fall of Sauron, Reagonn and a younger lad planned their escape from slavery. They managed to flee from the plantation in haste, but to their great despair, they were recaptured shortly after. The younger boy, also called Bornir, had been a close friend of Reagon for several years. However, upon their return to the plantation they were both punished severely – which explains the two scars in Reagan’s face, and several on his back. Although their punishments were considered mild compared with others who for instance had their tongue removed, Bornir passed away due to the infections in his wounds and the blood loss. Of course, Reagonn found it difficult to cope with, as it had been his only and closest friend, thus pledged to revenge his death.

Reagonn had started to plan another escape and the revenge of Bornir’s death, but then just a week later a fire broke out on the plantation. The fire spread quickly to the shelters where the slave slept during the night, and full chaos broke out. Many slaves died due to the heavy smoke, but a handful of slaves decided to take advantage of the situation and managed to sneak out and escape from the plantation. Reagonn of course, was one of them. Being preoccupied by the fire, no one noticed the few slaves that escaped and none of them were caught. They parted however, deciding that it was wisest to go different ways in case they were being followed.

A couple of days later Reagonn met Khamir and a small group of other ex-slaves “hiding” in caves. Reagonn was allowed join them and together they struggle to survive.

Reagonn has not fulfilled the pledge he made after Bornir’s death, yet there is still time…


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

Orofaniel's post - Reagonn

There was a blaze of heat. Reagonn awoke in his shelter discovering that it was filled with thick, dark grey smoke. He quickly noticed the wave of panic that spread among the slaves and soon cries of agony and horror filled Reagon’s ears. Still half-asleep, he managed to get up and at this point, his instincts were quite clear: he felt the urge, or moreover the necessity, to escape from this place. Nevertheless, as he got up he could feel the years of labour finally sink in, and he became utterly disorientated and confused. The legs beneath his crippled body now seemed to fail to support him, and he fell slowly to the ground with a short thud.

The blaze was now spreading rapidly, and he could feel his senses weakening as he inhaled the poisonous smoke. Feeling suffocated, he witnessed the masses of slaves running past him as they hurried to get out, he tried to cry out for help, but his voice failed to cut through the loud voices and the sounds of cracking building material. The ceiling in the left corner of the shelter now started collapsing, and Reagonn could see two slaves running as fast as they could to avoid being trapped beneath the burning wood – all in vain. They cried out as the heavy material hit them, and although chaos surrounded him and the air was filled with voices, Reagonn could somehow feel the vibrating silence from the left corner of the shelter. As he crawled further towards the exit, he knew his last minutes had come. Feeling trapped, Reagonn felt helpless and utterly alone. Yet, the situation did not distress him, like it might have distressed others. On the contrary Reagonn now felt somewhat relieved; finally, he was to be realised from the pain…the suffering…the agony in which he had lived for years. Reagonn had waited for this moment.

Nevertheless, the fright that suddenly struck him was not at all unexpected.

“Get up,” someone cried.

Alarmed by this command, he came to his senses, and trying to regain his balance, he stood up. Walking more steadily now, he felt that things were clearer. Almost all the slaves had evacuated by now, yet he could still hear cries, although he could not conclude whether they came from inside the shelter or outside. Reagonn turned and watched the flames surround him and the lifeless bodies on the ground; They were victims of this ruthless fire... In the life-threatening situation, Reagonn did not have much time to think, yet he could not help feeling sorry for these slaves. He had laboured with for many years and now he was witnessing the miserable fate they had faced.

Would this be his destiny as well?

Witnessing this he realised that it was time for his second attempt to escape. Not only from the fire, but from the plantation.

**

The palm of his hand felt sweaty against the pale skin of his face. He was half-asleep, half awake. This dream, which he had dreamt so many times before would not leave him. These shadows, these nightmares, from the plantation tormented him, and continued to confuse him. And always, near fully awaking, he saw the same face…the same smile and the very same expression in front of him – in the redish monstrous flames. A younger self started back at him, almost identical, yet some of his features shared no resemblance with his own, whatsoever. He was around Bornir’s age, his only friend in life whom had been brutally punished by the plantation’s master - yet it wasn’t him. Thinking about Bornir he could felt enraged, yet this time he felt a wave of pure hatred and rage build up inside of him like never before. After that was just the bitterness...The bitterness he was used to.

Who was he? There was no answer, just a blur of confusion, a foggy maze with no beginning or end. More questions rose, only to be forgotten again while silently awaking from this horror of a nightmare. Like so many times before he awoke while clutching his knife and gasping for air. His eyes were wide open filled with dread as he felt the pearls of sweat running down from his forehead.


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

Minor Character - Slave escapee

NAME: Liviol (Lii-vi-ol)

AGE: Almost twenty

RACE: Men

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS:He has his wit, his creativity and his fists if needed.

APPEARANCE: His skin is rather dark, yet after having laboured at the plantation for so long, he has grown paler and weaker. He is not as skinny as most of the other slaves though, but he is quite tall. His dark hair reaches his shoulders. Some of his more prominent facial features: high cheekbones and a large chin. He wears an old greyish shirt, and some old pants. In his belt, he used to carry a knife, but it was stolen from him.

PERSONALITY: Liviol is creative, and quite imaginative. However, he likes to keep to himself, having had the experience that this is the only way to keep out of trouble. He is not very well spoken, nor is he very social. He is quite egocentric, as he has learned that it is necessary if he wishes to survive. At times, he might seem paranoid, and ill tempered. Yet, overall, Liviol is not an arrogant person, nor is he evil. He has just spent his life on a plantation and has therefore learned that the only way he will survive is to take care of oneself.




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

****

I hope it's Ok. Please do tell me if it needs editing. ;)



Cheers,
Oro

[Regin Hardhammer]

I put up the post for my minor female orc. It's longer than I expected.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Nova - Durelin's suggestions are good ones. I think the revisions should be minor and will only strengthen your character.

And thanks for those dates when you won't be here.

Oro - Looks good. I know your character does not know his exact orgin, but do his looks give us any hint as to where he was originally from? Most of the slaves were likely from Harad or East, but there would have been others dragged there from Rohan, Gondor, or other points to the west.

Also, Oro, do you have any planned vacations this summer?

Tevildo and Regin - Your minor characters look fine.

Nogrod Thanks for giving us a taste. We'll look forward to your return this weekend.

Folwrenand Undomie - It looks as if you are the first ones to complete your two profiles and the post. (You can certainly do a post for your minor character, but it is not required.) Welcome to the game!

[Hilde Bracegirdle]

NAME: Carl “Nibs” Cotton

AGE: born SR 1389, has yet to turn 51 toward the end of the year.

RACE: Hobbit

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: Short knife, a small axe of utilitarian nature and a hunting bow with quiver at his belt. No armor.

APPEARANCE: Thickset and well tanned; Carl’s rough and calloused hands tell of hard work. He has a homespun appearance, wearing trousers of a sturdy brown fabric and open vest of the same. His shirt is a buttery yellow and around his neck is a bit of brightness, a twisted a handkerchief, the color of spring leaves.

Carl is of average hobbit height, with a clean shaven face and an abundance of wavy brown hair, which he keeps cropped so that it falls just short of his earlobes. His eyes are hazel and his lips less than generous and without much color.

A stout Shire pony with the peculiar name of Stumps is his traveling companion, and despite the name and having all his limbs intact, the pony carries Carl’s leather pack, blankets and the rest of the hobbit’s gear. Stumps is a well fed and well muscled creature, reddish in color with a light mane and tail.


PERSONALITY: Carl has a dry sense of humor and is friendly enough. Among his own people he would best be described as a dependable and practical sort. But his close friends know of a well hidden slightly fanciful streak, his suppression of which is to be expected given his place as the youngest son of a farmer known for his common sense.

STRENGTHS: Any strong points are related to his occupation and include agricultural experience, physical strength, endurance and a guarded optimism. But Carl also possesses some skill in hunting, thus having learned the use of a bow.

WEAKNESSES: Chief weakness, besides a sometimes disabling appetite (with its attending ill humor), would be Carl’s obliviousness to, and so apparent disregard of subtle diplomacy.

HISTORY:

Carl Cotton was born in Bywater in the Shire country, where he has lived ever since. He was a fourth son, the fifth and last child born to farmer Tom Cotton and his wife Lily.

As a boy Carl, (who is known as Nibs), as well as his three brothers, developed an abiding friendship with the son of his grandfather’s colleague, a gardener’s son. And together they had shared both in youthful antics and in a love for the land. Though they hadn’t thought on it at the time, these two families had intertwined in the past and were destined to in the future as well, with their friend Samwise marrying Carl’s sister Rosie upon his return from traveling, and Carl’s eldest brother, Tolman, likewise marrying Sam’s sister Marigold.

Now Carl was still in his tweens when Sam had gone off to help Mr. Baggins, and he was there to see it when the Shire was turned on it’s head too. And though his father left him as guard over his mother and sister, rather than have him join in the battle which had quickly followed Sam’s homecoming, he never forgot how fast the tables had been turned once the Shire folk had set their minds to it.

That was in the past, Sam had since become the Mayor, and Carl had turned his thoughts back to working his father’s farm, with his thoughts staying there, for the most part, until a few years ago. Perhaps it started when King Elessar traveled to the northern kingdom, or resulted from the serious talks the Cotton brothers had had with Sam, when the Mayor had begun speaking somewhat wistfully of visiting Gondor. Carl couldn’t be sure.

He did know however, that he had begun thinking about the greater world and it worried him. Deciding it was time to settle down proper, lest this curiosity grab hold of him, he planned to buy a little plot of his own and tie himself securely to it. But confiding his thoughts to Samwise one evening, the mayor suddenly grew thoughtful and requested Carl to hold off a bit, as he had an errand he would like him to undertake first. Thus began another long round of discussions between Sam and the Cottons. And it was during this time that Carl’s eldest brother commented sharply that a Mayor shouldn’t go gallivanting off on long trips when his term was not yet over. Sam looked him squarely in the eyes. “Look here Tom,” the Mayor said. “If the king of Gondor and of Arnor can make a trip to the Brandywine to visit his old friends, I don’t see why the Mayor of the Shire shouldn’t return the favor!” Tom was silent after that, but the roll and gamble of events cast Carl in the role of message runner, and placed his feet on the road to Minas Tirith, with an errand to see if the mayor might pay an extended visit there in the next year or two.

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

Hilde Bracegirdle's post - Carl

It had been two weeks now since Carl had hand delivered a rather bulky packet of papers to the Citadel at the top of the city. As it turned out Sam Gamgee’s carefully folded message to King Elessar had also included a letter of introduction for Carl and, as the hobbit also saw, a note addressed to the king and queen in his niece Elanor’s fine script. Carl was surprised when the King had bid him stay as he took his time over their contents, and after exchanging a few words with the hobbit, to ask Carl questions regarding The Thain for the most part, he smiled his gratitude, telling a tall fellow who stood nearby to make arrangements for this special messenger. He was to be made comfortable and stay as long as he wished before returning home.

Perhaps it was the easiest victory that Elessar had ever had, having won the hobbit over unknowingly within minutes, the monarch’s good-natured ways and Sam’s high regard largely contributing. And so Carl was happy to stay, though he asked if it might be on the Pelennor rather than in the city, for the grandeur of Minas Tirith, with its high white walls of cut stone, had nearly taken his breath away when his pony Stumps emerged from the fields to plod up the causeway. And the hobbit had waxed wide-eyed and apprehensive, upon approaching the tall gates.

After having had those two weeks among the farms in the shadow of Mount Mindolluin, Carl had grown somewhat accustomed to his surroundings, settling in nicely. Truly he enjoyed walking through the fields spending his days learning about new crops and the methods used to propagate them. And his host seemed to enjoy showing the newcomer around, slowly loading the hobbit’s baggage down with hardy and exotic seeds to try once he had returned to the Shire.

But at the end of two weeks Carl naturally began wondering just how much longer he should stay. He had half expected that he might be given some message to take back to the Shire, though the King’s response to Sam’s had been quite clear without it. He knew Elessar would be only too happy to have The Mayor and his family make the long journey south to Gondor. And so Carl sat on a stone outside the farmer’s house, figuring, after his large breakfast, just what he should do, when a fine young man in a heavily embroidered uniform appeared, walking briskly up the road. Heading straight for the hobbit, he stopped with his polished boots just within the shadow of Carl's seat. “Master Nibs?” he inquired.

Carl looked up from the boots, amused that the stranger knew the name, one which Sam no doubt had used in his letter of introduction, he replied, “Yes, that would be me,” as he slid off the large stone. He had noted a scroll in the fellow’s hand from a distance, and was feeling rather more cheerful now. The decision over his departure evidently had been made for him. “Is that for me?” he nodded in the direction of the man’s right hand.

The Gondorian handed Carl the scroll. “A message from the King.”

“Ah, I have been waiting for this!” the hobbit announced, taking the missive and placing it in his trouser pocket.

The man’s expression quickly clouded. “You knew of it? But how could you?”

“I’ve eyes and ears you know. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together,” the hobbit remarked. “To be honest, I thought it might have arrived a bit sooner than this.” At that the man looked puzzled.

“But it is still early,” he murmured.

“Never mind,” Carl said hurriedly. “You may assure the King that I will leave just as soon as I gather what I need for the trip.”

“You needn’t trouble yourself, all preparations have already been made,” the messenger informed him, brightening. “I don’t know the full details, only that you will be traveling with a group the King has himself hand picked.”

“Is that right?” Carl said slowly. He hadn’t planned on being in a group, but it did sound like quite an honor, and he didn’t want to make himself look ungrateful by refusing such gracious hospitality. “Where and when am I to meet this group?”

The messenger hesitated. “We have been instructed that the travelers are to gather outside the royal palace shortly before sunrise tomorrow."

“Then I will be there,” Carl said. "Before first light."

“You might want to look over the message, before you set out,” the Gondorian advised in parting. “To see if you have any concerns.”

The hobbit’s face quickly soured. “Don’t you worry about me,” Carl said gruffly, wondering if it was standard Gondorian practice for messengers to read the letters they carried. He withdrew the scroll from its place in his pocket, turning it over in his hands before carrying it inside and placing it gingerly in his pack, unopened.

His host came over wiping his hands on a rag as he looked out the doorway at the straight back and black uniform of the retreating messenger. “I haven’t gotten you in trouble with the king’s men, now have I?” he whispered.

“Oh, no. He'd come here to deliver this,” the hobbit said, reaching back and withdrawing the scroll again to show to his host.

“Aren’t you going to read it then? It looks important.”

“Read it!" Carl was suddenly fiercely indignant. “Does everyone here always read what is placed in their care? I will take it back to The Mayor, and he can read it!”

The Gondorian farmer reached out and lightly tapped his index finger on the black ink of the document saying meekly, ”But that's your name there Carl, and not your Mayor's.”

"It is?" Carl looked at the parchment, his anger dissolving, “For me? But I never learned to...,” The hobbit didn't finish his thought, in truth he was feeling a bit lost, realizing that he would be leaving soon and empty handed. “Here then, would you be kind enough to read it for me? I can’t for myself you see.”

The farmer willingly obliged, and speaking slowly and haltingly his face registered with emotion as the letter went on.

“Mordor? Mordor!” Carl said weakly when the farmer had fallen silent again. “And here I told the man that I’d go, thinking it only back to the Shire.”

“But it is a noble task you are called to do,” his host said. “Those slaves could have been any one of us, or of our kin.”

“Aye,” Carl breathed. “I am honored to be called upon, but just hope I’m up to such important business.”

“You are, and you must be!” the man said. “The King has called you to be.”

Carl nodded, lapsing into thought.

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

[Firefoot]

MAJOR CHARACTER -- SLAVE ESCAPEE


NAME: Johari

AGE: 31

RACE: Man

GENDER: Female

WEAPONS: Her fists, fingernails…

APPEARANCE: 5’7”, tough, wiry, and lean. She has medium-toned skin that shows clear signs of having worked as a Mordor slave all her life; her hands are callused and rough. Her hair is dark and coarse and is always held out of her face. She has dark, fierce but wary eyes and an expressive face. Her clothing is simple and worn: breeches, shirt, and tunic. She has no shoes, so her feet are as callused as her hands. Various whip-scars line her body, mostly on her back and the backs of her legs.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Johari is more passionate than intelligent, more prone to fight than work it out with words, and more likely to act first and think later. She tends to be scornful of weakness. The result of this was frequent trouble with those in charge of her. However, this has grown less frequent as she has gotten older; the futility of her own battles against her situation eventually began to wear on her, and she has sunk down into hopelessness and depression. Apathy has numbed the fiercer parts of her personality. She really has no hopes left from her spirited childhood, only determination to find her “son” (see history) and make life better for him.

HISTORY: Johari was born into slavery; however, her mother had been a captured slave from Harad and would often tell her stories of freedom that inspired Johari and gave her hopes that one day she might be free too. But her mother died when she was ten, leaving her to understand the underlying realities of slavery. Sauron was defeated when she was twelve, raising her hopes once more, only to have them come crashing down around her as she realized nothing about her situation had really changed. Always a fighter by nature, this second crashing of her hopes really set in motion her private war (as she thought of it) with the slave holders. After a few encounters with their whips, she tried to be more subtle, but she was too easily provoked into mouthing off to or even, on one or two occasions, physically attacking the slave overseers.

She continued to fight it until she was about 20, at which point the ferocity and frequency of her miniature rebellions began to slack off; she simply had a hard time finding the point of it any more.

At 24, in an odd turn of compassion she noticed a young orphaned boy Kalin and took him under her care. He was never cut out for a slave’s life, however, being rather frail and sickly (although her affection for him rather blinded her to this; she could not believe such weakness in one so close to her), and without her care he probably would have died sooner than he did; he died when she was 28, although she managed to convince herself in her grief that he had not died but escaped this cruel life of slavery as she had always wished to do. Since then, it has been her only desire to find him and make a better life for the two of them.

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


Firefoot's post - Johari


Rebellion, they had said. Escape. Johari hadn’t cared about much more than that, not about how the rest of them planned to get out nor even if they would be successful. Only one thought occurred to her: Kalin. Now would be her chance to find him. She didn’t care about the rest of them, but she would escape. She would find him.

There was no hope involved in her determination. Hope was like water, Johari had once decided: once you learn to live with plenty of it, life becomes all the harder without it. And hope died slowly: it was more like a thousand little deaths that wasted you away until you were nothing. Johari had seen it happen in her mother and had experienced it herself; it was better simply to live without hope. Then you were never disappointed, as you surely would be in this forsaken land that killed all hopes. No, her determination resulted from the conviction that eventually she would escape and that she would find him. If not this time, there would be a next time. There would always be a next time.

It was a fact, and therefore required no hope or effort to believe in. It simply was.

The night came. Chaos reigned supreme. Slaves, singly, in pairs, in mobs, all ran, fueled by the hope and promise of freedom. Only some would make it away – only some would survive; the rest, hopes quashed, would be returned to their barracks and to work the next day. Johari did not think of this. She did not think at all. She just ran.

She avoided their dogs, more out of instinct than conscious decision. She did not stay and fight, she did not stop to help the others. She just ran.

Towards the mountains. Kalin was a smart boy. He would have taken refuge there. Rumors even existed that other escaped slaves were living in those mountains; he might have found them. She shifted her course, practically flying through the fields - not caring whether she trampled the growing crops - into the hills beyond: already farther than she had ever traveled in her life. It was only now as she reached this comparative safety that she slowed her pace. Her legs and lungs were burning, and her make-shift pack thumped uncomfortably on her back. She did not stop completely, though, but kept moving, always listening for pursuit behind her. At one point she heard hoof-beats, but she stayed in the shadows and never saw them anyway.

On into the night she walked, never once feeling the ecstatic rush of freedom that might be expected. For her, escape was not the realization of hopes and dreams. Once it might have been; now it was only fact fulfilled.

In the next days, she found a group of escaped slaves and was welcomed into their fold. It did not occur to them that Johari was content, happier even, to travel by herself. She did not feel heartened by their presence; she did not care that they, too, had escaped. She had a purpose, and these ones would not help her with it… especially when they started discussing settling down and hiding in the foothills of the mountains while they decided what to do. Johari already knew what she wanted; she didn’t care what the rest of them did. Nevertheless, she had reluctantly decided to at least stay the night there with them; she wouldn’t get any farther in the dark.

The next morning they found themselves surrounded. Johari quickly realized, as did the rest of the escaped slaves, that these tough-looking strangers were not trying to capture them but help them. Maybe they would know about Kalin – she would certainly be asking…

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

MINOR CHARACTER - ORC

Name: Grask

Age: 9

Race: Orc

Gender: Male

Weapons: A long knife that serves him as a sword, purloined off the body of a dead Orc.

Appearance: Around 4’ tall and a little on the thin side; “lanky” is a word he is growing into, with rather long limbs. Only wears a sleeveless tunic. He is perpetually dirty.

Personality/Strengths/Weaknesses: Like most young Orcs, Grask tries to stay relatively unobtrusive among older Orcs to avoid risking their wrath, and tussle amongst themselves to prove or better their fighting abilities (usually without real weapons). Not being particularly burly or strong, Grask tries to avoid these fights mostly; he is quite competent at looking after himself. Definitely more of a follower than a leader, he takes his cues from those around him. He can also be very curious.

History: Grask has no real concept of his own parentage. He has very vague memories of a mother-figure, though he has no real emotional connection to her. He assumes she died, or perhaps just abandoned him at some point; this doesn’t bother him, though, since this is more the norm than the exception in Orkish culture. Other than that, his history is unremarkable and consists really only of day-to-day survival. It was only by chance that he found out about the rebellion at all, but he immediately decided to join them, feeling that a large battle would be in no way beneficial to him.



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

~*~*~

That about completes it. :)

[Durelin]

Hilde and Firefoot - Excellent bios, both of you!

Hilde - Forgive me, but did we ever decide if you were playing a minor character/what kind you were playing?

[Child of the 7th Age]

Hi, Durelin!

I believe Hilde said she'd prefer not to take up a minor character at the beginning of the game. She would wait and see if a need for a particular character developed in the course of playing the actual game.

Hilde - If I've not said that correctly and/or you've changed your mind, please let us know. The bio looks great.

[Hilde Bracegirdle]

Thanks Child, you are absolutely correct, and I do hope that that is alright. I hadn't been aware the minor character requirement until after I had PM'd you and have been trying to fly below radar since then regarding it. ;)

[Child of the 7th Age]

Hilde -

Since we are fortunate in having a "full roster" of posters, I think that this will work.

_______________

If anyone in Rohan is still interested in playing, we could particularly use one more orc.

[piosenniel]

My post is now done.

~*~ Pio

[Hilde Bracegirdle]

A question oh stalwart leaders. Do we know where and when the fellowships' members are to meet? It would greatly help Mr. Cotton, and Hilde for that matter, to know.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Hilde,

This is a good question. We haven't discussed this recently, but this is what I recall.

First, we will do a time condense leap at the start of the game. One problem in many rpgs is that they take a long time for characters to get on the trail and for the different groups to meet up. We've had so many games get bogged down, and we wanted to avoid that, since the focus of this story should be on events in Mordor.

After our first posts are up but before the game officially opens, I will supply a time condense post getting the Fellowship all the way to the Sea of Núrnen. The fellowship will arrive after the two-month deadline that the slaves set. My guess is that Durelin will do a similar post for the slaves stating that they waited 2 months and, when no one came, they set out on their own.

This is what I envisioned for the second post---the point where we start active posting....

1. The Fellowship arrives at the empty caves and looks on in shock. They decide to go forward and attempt to find the slaves.

2. After waiting a full two months, the slaves have already set out to the north, downhearted to have received no help.

3. The Orcs gather at their separate meeting point and then decide to head north on a path that will eventually bring them into a collision course with the slaves/fellowship. Obviously they don't know this!

The fellowship and slaves should meet up quickly (real and game time) , since the fellowship has horses. My hope is that we will have the two groups (Orcs versus slaves/fellowship) come together in the first two weeks of the story. We can discuss that later.

So the short answer, Hilde, would be that you may not have to worry where the Fellowship meets! If you need information, just assume it is at the royal palace, and that Elessar supplies horses and all equipment beyond the personal things that you carry.

Pio, Durelin - was this also your understanding? If I've got it wrong, please advise so we can straighten things out. Does anyone see a problem?

[Folwren]

I have another question.

When is the game actually going to be starting, do you know yet? I'm in no particular rush, understand, I just would like to know if I'll be absent during the beginning of the game, or if it will be at a time when I'm home or what.

Also, I'm leaving Monday morning and returning Friday afternoon. If I miss anything important, I'd appreciate if I were alerted so I'd know to go back and read everything. Otherwise, I'd just as soon be lazy and skip all that reading. :rolleyes: I will, of course, read all the bios and first posts that are new, but all the discussion is what I'm talking about. There can be a lot of discussion in five days on a new RPG discussion thread. . .

Anyhow, it's time for me to go to bed. Goodnight, everyone.

-- Folwren

[Tevildo]

Piosenniel, Child, or whoever....

I've put up a draft of my post in my box. I may do some editing tomorrow so please don't move it till I give the word. Thanks.

[piosenniel]

Nogrod and Tevildo


I'm not going to move your posts - they will stay in your original post boxes until the game opens.

Tevildo

I will note on the 'WRITER/CHARACTER' list that you have written your post.

Nogrod

I did note on the 'WRITER/CHARACTER' that you have a partial post written.

-------

FYI:

The 'WRITER/CHARACTER' list is just a tool used to keep tabs on who needs to get what done.

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

EDIT

If you see an 'edited by piosenniel' on your character bio/first post box, it's just me setting your post up for easy transfer to the game thread.

~*~ Pio

[Hilde Bracegirdle]

Thanks so much Child. That is and was of great help. Oh and tomorrow morning as a start time was pulled out of the air. If it needs to be changed, just let me know and I will do the needful.

Carl's first post is now on board in block #51.

[Durelin]

That is quite what I had in mind, Child.

My only thought now is that perhaps the moving on of the slaves group and the catching up of the Fellowship group might be a bit more than is necessary. But I also think it would be boring if everything worked out smoothly... ;)

[piosenniel]

re: post 58 - Child

That looks good to me. And will get us right into the heart of the game.

~*~ Pio

[Child of the 7th Age]

Durelin, Pio,

Sounds as if we're in basic agreement

Durelin, I am not wed to the idea of having the slaves leave first and the fellowship finding empty caves.. I can easily write it the other way if we think we want more time to focus on other plot twists . Let me know what you prefer......

I'll try to take a stab at that post today, although it will probably not be till later tonight. (If I don't hear from you I may do two drafts and see what we like....)

[Durelin]

After a little thought: the Fellowship finding an empty cave is the better way to go. A more *exciting* start is best to get things moving.

[Regin Hardhammer]

My post is up.

[Orofaniel]

Nova
Oro - Looks good. I know your character does not know his exact orgin, but do his looks give us any hint as to where he was originally from? Most of the slaves were likely from Harad or East, but there would have been others dragged there from Rohan, Gondor, or other points to the west.

Also, Oro, do you have any planned vacations this summer?



Oh. Okay. I thought of him as a Harad when writing. I'll edit a bit. :)

It is likely that I'll be gone all of next week....




Ex-Slaves

Orofaniel - Ex-slave, male - SHORT BIO ONLY NEEDED
Wasn't I supposed to do a slave-escapee?

Doesn't really matter though. Any way you want it. :) I'm just a bit confused.

[piosenniel]

Unconfuse yourself Oro - I've switched you into your correct category of minor characters -- slave escapee.

~*~ Pio :)

[Orofaniel]

Oh. Okay. Lol. :) Thanks. Will be up tomorrow.

Cheers,
Oro

[Child of the 7th Age]

I need to have my head examined, but I couldn't resist. :rolleyes: I created a minor character---a male orc who is an Uruk-hai. I've put up a bio and short post in my original box.

[Firefoot]

I just want to make sure I have this right:

The slaves escape from a plantation somewhere on the northwest shore of the Sea of Nurnen, correct? And now at the start of the RPG, they're camping out in the southern mountains? Does this mean that to get to the mountains they've already travelled about 100 miles (much of it being fertile land, granted), including crossing the west-east river that sticks out of the Sea of Nurnen (that's what I'm getting from looking at my map)?

I'm working on my First Post now; it should be up later today (ah! WW influences butting in... I want to say toDay... ;) ).

[Nogrod]

Upgraded versions. 010706

Major character -- SLAVE ESCAPEE:

NAME: Hadith (or ”Apples”).

AGE: 18

RACE: Human.

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: A crude sling made of a single-layered string and a leatherband, a pouch of pebbles, a selfmade knife that is both dull and impractical.

APPEARANCE: Tall and slender, somewhat skinny indeed. Dark-skinned and brown-eyed. His father was a southern man and her mother a Gondorian from Osgiliath. Only his high cheekbones and ears betray her mother’s blood in him. As all the other somewhat healthy slaves, he’s muscular and agile for the hard physical work they have been forced to do from the age of 10 onwards. Thereare scars all around him, but one is exceptionally nasty. It’s on his right cheek, from years ago when a guard-orc hit him with a whip he had been too slow. He wears basic slave clothing, a dirty tunic and loose trousers of low-quality cotton. As Hadith has lately been working at the masonry he has been given rough shoes and a belt to tie his tunic. His most valuable possession is his father’s headband, rescued by the other slaves in the crude funerals when he died.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Basically Hadith is an easy-going young man, just like her mother had been. At times the impulsiveness of his father turns on and he can be quite stubborn with his ideas. He’s also quick to laugh and join the fun in a familiar company as his father was, but recent affairs have made him more serious and reserved. Even though some might think of him as a nice person, he seems not to have any close friends. The older slaves have pitied him because of his losses and helped to take care of him when he was younger, but with other slaves of his age he’s not very familiar with.

HISTORY: Hadith was one of the many who were born after Sauron was defeated. A child made with great expectations and hope of the new and free world. But still he had been born a slave. He had been raised a slave and he grew up to be a slave. His identity was that of a slave. Until lately he saw no other future available for him but ending his days as a slave too, maybe getting a child or two with some of the slave girls.

His father died when he was four. He doesn’t remember much of him. He has some vague memories of a bearded dark man giving him an orange – a rare gift indeed – and a remembrance of eyes that shone brightly with love and care. He also remembers the soft voice that said: ”Here’s a treasure Apples, bite and taste the times gone by so that you know…” But that was all there was about his father.

Hadith’s mother had died only a year ago. She had been caught up trying to smuggle some wheat into the barracks. She had been made an example in front of a crowd of slaves. She was old and weary anyhow, so the plantantion owners could afford a little showdown to curb the unrest that seemed to be piling up day by day. Hadith had regular nightmares about the torturing ever since. He had been called up to the gallows to witness her slow, painful and humiliating death. He was seventeen then. There were stains of blood in his tunic even today. That piece of cloth he would never wash or change. That was his oath to himself.

But on that day the seeds of rebellion was definitively planted in him. He would do whatever he could to get out of that terrible condition that was called his life. He made plans and revised them. He turned to those he thought he could trust but found himself disappointed time after another. It was quite near he didn’t got to the gallows himself as one of his ”friends” turned him in in hope of a reward for revealing a mutiny. He still remembered the voice of the Easterling captain as he coldly looked at the two of them in front of a host of others. ”That skinny loser would not be scheming anything! Look at that dull look on his face and the skeleton he call his body! Give him a sightseeing!” They had tied him with a rope to a horse that was then beaten to run all over the camp. The Easterlings and the orcs were laughing, but the slaves looked at the terrible show in silence, their hearts slowly sinking once again with the sight of one of them being mutilated and humiliated. He was bruised all over, he lost two of his teeth and his left arm was broken from the elbow. But he was alive.



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


Minor character:

NAME: Gwerr

AGE: Not known

RACE: Orc

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: His favourite weapon is a Dwarven battle-axe he looted from a battle long ago. He uses it with deadly precision and brutal force. Gwerr also carries a long dagger or a short saber – whatever way you like to look at it. That also is an earlier possession of someone already dead. It used to belong to an easterling captain with whom Gwerr had an argument over a game of dices.

APPEARANCE: Gwerr is a bit short even by orc-standards, but he is sturdy and muscular. He’s just the one you wouldn’t like to pick up a fight with. He has a battered helmet with a visor that covers the eyes and the nose. He wears a fur coat of a black elk tied up with a metal belt and uses his old heavy leather-metal boots of the times of Mordor’s flourishing. He has lost his right eye and the empty eyehole is covered with a metal plate stiched into his skin. He also wears an elven bracelet under his furs, but he doesn’t actually like to show it to others. It’s something that is his and only his secret.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Gwerr is a walking and breathing example of orcishness: battle-hardened, quick-tempered, dogged, but also resourceful, firm and able. Gwerr has lived too long to be any more a hotheaded berserk that young orcs sometimes are. He may flare up from nothing, but more often than not, he is also able to tone down his primary reactions and to think before he acts. Lately he has fallen to thinking more often than before and his view of his current situation is quite gloomy. The Easterlings have taken just too much power and command over their lives. There was no future for the orcs in this system that was unraveling itself. Alone he could not change it and so other ideas have started to form in his age-old mind. Gwerr is one of the planners of the orc-runaways.


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


Nogrod's post - Hadith


Hadith heard of the plan two days before it was going to be put into action. It was not a clumsy one of his own making, but a realistic one embedded in the grander scale rebellion that had been talked quietly for months all over the plantation. Kurrah and Zilin, the influential elders in their barracks were the minds behind it. Their barracks would not take part in the rebellion but would use the opportunity to just go for their own. Kurrah and Zilin thought the whole idea of a common rebellion to be pure madness and fantasy of the hotheads. It would just lead to more suffering: many would die and the rest would in any case be rounded up and the conditions would turn even worse with lots of new tougher rules and regulations, not to talk of some general punishments everyone would have to bear after the uprising. But the general disorder could be used for their benefit. They could sneak out in the overall confusion by first giving an impression to the guards that they were not involved.

The rebellion broke some moments after midnight. All the doors of the barracks were bursted open with the forordained signal from one of the barracks and the angry slaves ran out from them, challenging the guards on duty. There was a general alarm and in an instant the frenzied slaves saw the orc and easterling soldiers rushing in to bring order to the plantation and cut the rebellion down to its beginning.

Kurrah and Zalin had waited a short moment after they heard the uprising had begun and then carefully opened the door of their barracks. As their door had stayed closed when the mayhem started, only three orc-guards were left to keep an eye of their barracks. The others had rushed to help in the fight that was now in full flare. Kurrah and Zilin had distracted the orc-guards by quering them about the situation when the general uprising had begun. While their guards were busy trying to have an eye of the general situation and explaining it to Kurrah and Zilin, the others from the barracks had a chance to sneak out. Soon the guards got hang of what was going on, but then Kurrah and Zilin attacked them with forks and spoons. All items one could call a weapon were left to those who would try to escape. Hadith had not been given a weapon as he was deemed too young to claim one with the shortage of them, but he had his sling and the crude knife that he had made himself in the general anticipation of the rebellion.

Those two older men sacrificed themselves to get the others out that night. And they made it. Some of the other older men – and a few women - had decided to sacrifice themselves too, and that really made the difference as they entered the battle between the two older men and the three orcs. The orc-guards had no chance to report that the “peaceful“ barracks had done a runaway as they had to fight for their lives against a dozen of elderly people armed with kitchen utensils. The heroism of these elders saved the others of that barracks on that night. The fleeing slaves heard their cries as they ran away from the barracks.

Before long one easterling chieftain noted the escape of one of the barracks in the middle of the fight. Even though bringing down the general rebellion tied up lots of the orc-forces and the Easterling guards, some horsemen were sent to trail them too. Soon the escaping slaves heard the horses coming after them. Hadith looked back to see the whole plantation lit and full of movement. Other slaves fought bravely but most of them were fast rounded up and beaten back to their barracks. Two small groups of riders sent after them both were seemingly taking a wrong direction.

Hadith’s heart was thumping and his hands were trembling from excitement. They were free! Or at least they might be! After they had crossed the fields, the small hills and knolls covered them with the aid of darkness spreading over the plains. They had actually escaped! The thought kept crawling into his mind, and everytime he tried to push it away. It’s not sure yet, anything could happen. It was an idea so huge he couldn’t just take it. To be free! To be not pushed around, to be not told what to do. How could he decide what to do? Like for example tomorrow morning? Whether to wake up or not, whether to dress or not? It was fantastic and scary at the same time. Well the remaining elders will tell me what to do and where to go, he thought to himself, a bit saddened and relieved at the same time. There was some order in his life anyhow.

A riding search-party of the Easterlings actually spotted them on the next day, but they were so clearly outnumbered and being so far away from any reinforcements, that they didn’t even try to round them up but let them go. That was the confirmation for Hadith. They actually were free now.

During the same day some individual escapees from other barracks who had escaped the searching parties joined their ranks. They were welcomed, but there were no great hurraahs’ about. After a couple of days they were taken unawares by a small group of other ex-slaves. They seemed a ragged and tough party of people. To Hadith they were heroes – and he was thinking, that he would too become like them. A hero, no longer a slave. A freee man.

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

[Durelin]

To Everyone:

If everyone would like to simply finish the first post for their main character, the short bio for your minor character can wait until after the game has started.

We can then get things started sooner. We don't want anyone getting bored. ;)

Thanks!

~Durelin

Edit:

The slaves escape from a plantation somewhere on the northwest shore of the Sea of Nurnen, correct? And now at the start of the RPG, they're camping out in the southern mountains? Does this mean that to get to the mountains they've already travelled about 100 miles (much of it being fertile land, granted), including crossing the west-east river that sticks out of the Sea of Nurnen (that's what I'm getting from looking at my map)?

Sorry, Firefoot. To answer your question: I was picturing the plantation being more Southeast. I am not sure if I was correct in this, though. I saw the most resonable place for the slaves to escape to to be the Southern range of the Mountains because otherwise they would have to cross the rest of Nurn, which means they would be much more likely to be recaptured.

What were you picturing, Child? And again, a thousand apologies if I've missed something...

[Firefoot]

Okay, that would make much more sense. Thanks for the clarification! :)

[Child of the 7th Age]

Durelin - Please clear your pms. when you get a chance.

Can't imagine why you'd have so many.... :D

[Nogrod]

I don't know about you, but I felt I needed the lists this way to make myself comfortable with the host of people "starring" the roles in our game. Hopefully it helps you others too...

Btw. Should we have a list of important NPC's too - so of those people who would be in leading roles but would not be the ones we are writing? At least the slave escapees seem to me to be people who are mostly young and inexperienced - and surely there are some that lead those people. I don't think any 12-year old would take the lead. :) So should we just name a few leader persons, give them a character in one sentence and then see where we will take them as our common NPCs or something?

The inhabitants of Mordor

The Orcs, total of ?:
Regin Hardhammer - Ishkur, Orc rebel (male)
Undómë - Zagra & Mazhg, Orc rebel, sisters
Regin Hardhammer - Ungolt, Orc, female
Child of the 7th Age - Makdush, Uruk-hai
Nogrod - Gwerr, Orc rebel (male)
Novnarwen - Orc, male
Firefoot - Orc, male

The slave escapees, total of 56(?):
Nogrod - Hadith (aka Apples), slave escapee (male)
Firefoot - Slave escapee (female)
Undómë – Slave escapee, female
Tevildo – Azhar, slave escapee, 12 y/o female
Folwren - Kwell Dunfire, slave escapee, young boy
Orofaniel - slave escapee

The ex-slaves, total of 14(?):
Durelin – Khamir,Ex-slave
Orofaniel - Reagonn, ex-slave (male)
Novnarwen - Aedhild ex-slave (female)

[piosenniel]

If the fellowship crosses the mountains where the Poros River originates in the Ephel Duath - then they could have taken a ship to Pelargir (with a fair wind and with the river's current it would be less than 2 days.)

From Pelargir to the mountain crossing is a little over 100 miles on foot -- or horses could also be brought by ship.

~*~ Pio

[Undómë]

hmmmmm . . . Nogrod I'm not quite sure what you mean by NPC's.

Are you referring to the players' minor characters?

[Nogrod]

hmmmmm . . . Nogrod I'm not quite sure what you mean by NPC's.

Are you referring to the players' minor characters?Not indeed, but to the Non Player Characters. If the slave escapees total something like 56 people and there are 6 writers with characters, it means that there are 50 people "coming along" - and some of those would be quite important characters indeed (if we play only the young "hang-arounds").

So what I was asking, was whether we should have something like a shared understanding that f.ex. the leader of the slave escapees is named Quahan and is 36 years old fiery character with a 10 year old child whom he protects over all else - or is she Dûmin, a 56 year old lady, the renowned maid of a chieftain killed long ago... or whatever. So that we would be writing the same people and the same story. Of course we may go on writing and then the first to write about the slave-escapee -leaders will get to invent their names and such, but we could also discuss them before they are actually written into the story...

Anyway you people like it. I'm still only at my second RPG here and am new to the ways these things are handled.

[Child of the 7th Age]

UPDATE ON LOCATION AND WHERE WE ARE GOING:

I've gone ahead and edited the proposal and all posts (both discussion and game thread) so that the slaves are all leaving from the foothills of the southern mountain range (and this is where the Fellowship will initially go.) The escape party will head to the western corner of the Sea of Núrnen and then north across the Ash Plain (as stated in the letter to Elessar), a trip of some 200 miles (assuming they are on the western side of the Sea) :p .

As far as the location of the original plantation goes, it's likely this won't figure much in the story unless someone describes their exact escape route. My guess is that it was to the west of the Sea, but I can live with anything. (This was never mentioned in the proposal itself or the posts that have gone up so far.)
__________________________________________________ ____________

Pio,

Great minds think alike.... :D

Yes, I 've sent a draft of my post to Tevildo and Hilde (because I've used their characters at one point) and this is the route I had the fellowship travel: down the Anduin to Pelargir by boat and then on horseback across the mountain pass near the mouth of the Poros River. Then they go south and slightly east to the mountain range.

__________________________________________________ ______________

Re non-playing characters:

Nogrod,

You raise a good point -- that we have to remember this is a larger group (65 slaves of various types, about 15 orcs, and the 7 members of the fellowship). If we talk about the larger group, we'll need to be careful not to contradict each other concerning all these folk who do not have individual posters. However, my preference is to keep things flexible---not to try and define each subgroup and each leader prior to the actual game starting.

We've had a lot of stories that involve the migrations of large groups (especially hobbits in the Shire) and this approach has worked well. Sometimes when we need an extra speaking character or two, we invent "carry-along characters" in the middle of the game: minor characters for whom we put up a bio on the discussion thread. (Tevildo did this by inventing the healer Leod in the middle of the recent Flames game in the Shire..... ) Sometimes we just refer to other families or individuals in very general terms without naming names. You can definitely refer to other people or groups by name in your posts.....just don't have them speak or take an active role unless you put up a bio.

You never know where a game is going or where it will lead. It's good to leave some things undefined to build in a measure of flexibility that can be used to back up the plot as it develops. Plus, learning to coordinate this kind of thing as the story develops post by post is a mark of a well run game.

[Nogrod]

Nogrod,

You raise a good point -- that we have to remember this is a larger group (65 slaves of various types, about 15 orcs, and the 7 members of the fellowship). If we talk about the larger group, we'll need to be careful not to contradict each other concerning all these folk who do not have individual posters. However, my preference is to keep things flexible---not to try and define each subgroup and each leader prior to the actual game starting.

I agree with your point on flexibility - and it's always more fun when things are not too tied up beforehand. But the problem I see here is that there is no clear leader person in the slave escapees. Maybe Firefoot, Undómë or Orofaniel could come up with that kind of person as their characters haven't been revealed yet? Durelin's character seems to be one that in a way "leads" the ex-slaves, but without anyone to balance Khamir's lead, it might get a bit boring to Durelin... :) But surely, we slave escapees might be just a band of puzzled people who lost their elders as they sacrificed themselves to help these out from the plantation. I would just wonder if those elders didn't leave a single reasonable person to help the escapees on their flight.

[Firefoot]

the leader of the slave escapees is named Quahan and is 36 years old fiery character with a 10 year old child whom he protects over all else - or is she Dûmin, a 56 year old lady, the renowned maid of a chieftain killed long ago... or whatever. Nogrod, I think I am now in awe of your ability to just come up with names like that. It takes me forever.

My first post is almost finished, I'm trying to figure out how to end it. Right now it just sort of trails off.

Edit: it won't be Johari to take note of a particular leader... she doesn't necessarily want to be with the rest of you escapees anyway. :p

[Nogrod]

And sorry about the fuzz once again... I'm not trying to press anything, just curious to see how this will work.

Nogrod, I think I am now in awe of your ability to just come up with names like that. It takes me forever.Thanks. But I think it's just the single fact of not being an English-speaker by nature or nurture... (and having read Scandinavian and Middle-Eastern myths enough) :rolleyes: The words and the syllables in Finnish just ring differently and make it different, I suppose. :D

[Child of the 7th Age]

Nogrod,

I'd have no problem if the posters for the slave escapees want to get together before the game opens (or early on) and decide on the discussion thread if they have a clear leader. I'd also have no problem if someone agreed to develop a secondary character with bio who could technically be the leader, the posters decided to play things out gradually, or they agreed that, given the particular characters who are represented in the game, there simply is no clear cut leader for the group. I think any of these scenarios is believable. So far, a lot of the slave characters are young (one elderly) and they would probably not emerge as leaders at least in a military sense. I think that's what you're referring to.

I do think it would be hard to have a leader who is not played by an actual poster (i.e., at least a minor character). There will be various negotiations and planning in the story and presumably the "leader" would be expected to speak.

With the exception of Undómë's, we don't have any character who could be considered a slave elder (and her character is not a typical elder). I agree with you that most elders were likely killed on the plantation or in the escape.

I honestly think that other posters will give Khamir a run for his money, even if he emerges as the only leader for the combined group of slaves and ex-slaves. Very soon these two groups will merge (actually they have to merge to survive) .....by definition, everyone is now an ex-slave. (Durelin and I even considered not having a separate group of ex-slaves but decided to keep them.) Usually, posters are not reticent to create conflict and dilemmas for their leaders and other companions, even if they have young or elderly characters.

Plus being a leader is a relative thing, especially with Tolkien. Someone may have a strength that pushes them forward for one scenario. But in another situation someone else will take over.

Since I have no slave character, Durelin may have more feelings/ideas about this since she does have a slave character and will be more active in that "wing" of the story.

[Durelin]

I considered the NPCs option (it's something I've been working on for a RPG elsewhere, lately, so I immediately considered it for this game when Child and I were discussing the issue with keeping the number of players down but the numbers of characters up), and I tend to always use at least one or two NPCs in a game, though I am terrible and tend to make things up as I go along, giving a name and face to characters as I go along.

If this is something everyone wants to pursue, I'd be happy to come up with a few. Or, heck, I'll come up with the whole rest of the ex-slave gang if you want me to.

But, flexibility is very good. A few NPCs might not be bad, either, but I'm not sure how necessary they are, especially ahead of time. In my experience, at least, roleplaying has been more about glimpses than anything else. It's not about the whole picture itself, rather about individual parts of that whole picture, that reflect that whole picture on a smaller scale. (I do hope that made sense.) So, we don't really need to know who everyone (or close to everyone) is in the story.

I think that a set 'leader' for the slave escapees at this point isn't really all that necessary, except that it is probable that someone emerged as a kind of leader on their way to the mountains. But a leader can always still be emerging from the group (I really want a better way to put that, but can't come up with one right now) - and that leader could be anyone's character. If you'd prefer to have a determined leader right now, though, I'm sure that can be worked out.

As Child said, it really would be better if the leader type was actually played by someone.

Oh, and Khamir isn't too much of the leader type, so I'm sure everyone will have plenty of chances to take charge when he cannot, will not, or messes up...and they'll have chances to trip him up and take charge if they wish, too. :p

Edit: Oh, almost forgot: your list is almost all correct, except that there are 50 slaves (I said 56 escaped, but only 50 survived to the mountains...that's a dangerous trek, I doubt all of them would have survived), and there are 15 ex-slaves including Khamir. Sorry about the confusion with all the numbers (mostly that's my fault).

[Child of the 7th Age]

Here is the beginning post of the fellowship. Many thanks to Tevildo and Hilde who allowed me to borrow their characters.

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

Child of the 7th Age's post


- The Fellowship Arrives in Mordor -

The sun beat down on the weary travellers as they cautiously guided their horses through the rocky foothills of the southern mountains. By all accounts, they were a strange assortment: one Hobbit, an Elf, and a middle-aged Dwarf, plus two younger men and a woman who was apparently a healer. Near the rear of the group rode a tall greybeard with a staff strapped to his saddle and a snowy owl perched firmly on his right shoulder.

They had been journeying over a month. Elessar had seen them off from Harlond, the harbor for Minas Tirith, and they had sailed down the Anduin to Pelargir where horses were provided for their eastward trek. The group had travelled along the Poros River and finally arrived at the tiny pass that crossed over the Ephel Dúath. Getting through the mountain pass had taken longer than expected; they were now five days late in meeting up with the slaves.

Coming onto the flat plain of Nurn, they had headed south to the hills until they sighted a small mountain stream that had a surprisingly large group of trees growing on the bank. The ground was covered with vegetation, bramblewood patches and tangled thickets of shrubs that obscured their clear view of the land. From the description in Elessar's letter, this had to be the location of the caves, the place in the mountains where the slaves of Nurn had promised to meet them.

At the front of the column rode two scouts: Lindir the elf, and the young man Dorran who was a Rider of Rohan. Yet, despite their sharp eyes and ears, they could see no sign of the cave or hear any noises other than the normal babbling of the brook.

"This is it. I am sure....the place described in the letter. But where are they? And where is the entrance to the caves?" Dorran looked over at his companion.

"It has to be here," Lindir replied. "But most likely the slaves would choose a place well hidden from Orc eyes. I expect the caves are partly underground with their entrance concealed by thick shrubs or grass. The slaves may even be hiding inside, thinking that we are intruders. Still.....I wonder. They were supposed to post a sentry who would guide us in."

Dorran mumbled in frustration, "What we need is a dog to pick up their scent, or a small burrowing animal! We'll never find them this way, and night will come in a short time."

At that moment, there was a clip-clop of pony hooves as Carl Cotton rode up behind them and politely interrupted, "Excuse me, sirs. Maybe I can help. I do have experience with small holes in the ground." Carl dismounted and disappeared in the brush. Within five minutes he had returned, one of his sleeves hanging askew, torn by a thornbush, and a puzzled expression spreading over his face.

"I think I've found it. The cave is sunk into the ground just as you said...very cleverly hidden. Only.....something seems very wrong."

The hobbit turned and beckoned to the others to get off their horses and follow him into the thicket and over to the entrance of the cave.
__________________

[Firefoot]

First post up - post #51. :)

[Brinniel]

Durelin has been kind enough to invite me to be part of this lovely RPG and I'm happy to join the roleplaying world again. :)

I'd like to play an ex-slave, particularly a female. Now, I'm not sure how soon I can have my profile and post up. I'm pretty busy for the rest of the day and well, tomorrow's my birthday (yay), but I should have it done by Thursday.

[Novnarwen]

Hi!

My Post is now up. It's slot #45. (I'll probably make a few edits, still some proof-reading to do, but thought I'd let you guys know that the skeleton is up at least...)

I've also added some to Aedhild's history. I do not know whether she's what you, Durelin and Child, had in mind for an ex-slave and whether my additions helped to 'fit her in the gang', because to be honest, I don't really know how to make her fit.. (Durelin, please see your PM).

Minor character coming soon...

Cheers, :D
Nova

[Durelin]

Welcome, Brinniel! :D

Here's my post...

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

Durelin's post - Khamir


- Out of the Caves -


“He said two months, right?”

Khamir sat on a large rock that sat along the stream’s edge and stretched out into the water. The moving current had shaped it and smoothed it after hundreds of years of beating against it. The water merely babbled across the rocky bed, though perhaps at one time it had rushed in the form of a large river. Still the boulder stood strong and unmoving, forcing the current around it. Somehow water always found a way to get through. Khamir had to wonder, watching even such a small current, how the beaver ever managed to build such effective dams. Fire, water, and air – all pushed and shoved until it found a way to get through. For fire, it was perhaps simpler than pushing and shoving, but it still seemed to flow, if considerably faster than any water rushing over stones.

The one-armed man nodded in response to Reagonn’s question. There was a feeling of restlessness throughout the group that could not be ignored. Khamir shared the feeling, even though he expected he minded spending hours out of the day and night in a cave less than most of the others. He was used to caves and sharp, imposing rocks, and trying to sleep on ground or on stone that would never be comfortable, knowing that there was always the chance of being discovered, and forced to rely on whoever was on watch. That was one of many times when a man had trouble trusting anyone.

“We have a decision to make,” he said simply. Leaning forward, he kept his balance so that he remained on the boulder as he dipped his hand into the flowing water. Scooping tiny puddle out, he splashed it on his face. Even the least bit of water did wonders. He poured another small handful of water onto his head, and ran a hand through his thick hair. That was one large thing he would miss when they did head out: the river. They would be hard-pressed for finding water on the journey until the reached the wilderness farther north.

It had been over two months since the King’s letter reached them, informing them that help was on its way. The message had asked the Mordorians to wait two months for help to arrive, and they had sent a message back agreeing. Even if this ‘help’ had not left Gondor until after they received the message from the former slaves, they should have been here by now. Sentiment had been that they were not coming at all from the start. Few felt like really trusting Gondor. It seemed their only hope other than each other, and some rather far off wilderness, was in that country though, in that King.

As a Haradrim, Khamir was raised to have no love for Gondor. But it had been years since the man really thought of himself as a Southron, or as a person with any sort of allegiance. He had severed all ties almost as soon as he was landed in Mordor, and since then, he had buried the remnants of any links. They reminded him too much of chains.

His years as a slave had hardened him, making him callous to all kinds of death and hardships. But, it had softened him as well. It had taken a great deal of his own suffering for him to realize a great many things. Now more than ever, he cherished what good things life had to offer. And he cherished freedom in all its forms. There was no way he could have denied any help he and his men could give to those runaways. And now…they were sixty-five strong, and it seemed they might have a future.

With the help of Gondor, of the seemingly generous Elessar, or not, Khamir would count himself among those who ventured to the northwest. Suddenly rising from where he sat, Reagonn could only watch as the Southron made his way to the small cave opening, and crawled down inside through vegetation that hid the entrance formidably from the outside. The surprisingly large cavern was lit by several torches, numerous side tunnels branching off from the open room that most of the group camped in. He nodded, waved, and said a few words in greeting to those that were gathered inside. They only ever went outside in small numbers, and a sort of unspoken order to things came about in which everyone got a ‘turn,’ whether it meant they were on watch, were gathering water or food, were taking some children outside for fresh air and sunlight, or actually had a short time of rest to themselves. He left the cave with a bag in hand to sling over his left side, so that the bag itself hung at his right hip. Once outside, he pulled several skins out of the sack, and began filling them in the river.

“Tell everyone that who wants to can leave with me in the morning,” he said, turning his head to look at Reagonn while he held one of the waterskins under the flow, “It’s not yet midday. That should give us enough time to prepare.”

Reagonn hesitated, but the darker-skinned man knew that it was not because his comrade was not paying attention. He was similar to Khamir in a good number of ways, one of which being that he was always focused, even when he did not appear to be. The gang leader found him to be a good person to have guarding his back, though different things drove each of them on.

Khamir’s lips twisted slightly in what could only be called a smirk, though anyone who knew him in the least bit, like Reagonn, knew there was only either or kindness or amusement behind it, or both. “Unless you want to stay here, that is.”

[Child of the 7th Age]

Pio.....

This isn't the official list. I just needed to see all the characters together....

WRITER/CHARACTER LIST

Major characters are identified with an asterisk


A. Group Sent Out by Aragorn

*Lindir, Noldor Elf (metal crafter, scout) - Child of the 7th Age
*Radagast (Aiwendil), istar (teacher) - Child of the 7th Age
Vrór, Dwarf (stone mason) - Durelin
*Rog, East & Harad - Piosenniel
*Dorran, Rohan (soldier) Tevildo
*Athwen, Rohan, Dorran’s wife (healer) - Folwren
*Carl Cotton, Hobbit (farmer) - Hilde Bracegirdle

B. Inhabitants of Mordor

Orcs

*Ishkur, Orc rebel (male) - Regin Hardhammer
*Zagra & Mazhg, Orc rebel, sisters - Undómë
Ungolt, Orc, female - Regin Hardhammer
Makdush, Uruk-hai male - Child of the 7th Age
Orc, male - Nogrod
Orc, male - SHORT BIO ONLY NEEDED - Novnarwen
Orc, male - SHORT BIO ONLY NEEDED - Firefoot


Slave Escapee

*Hadith (aka Apples), slave escapee (male- 18 yrs.) - Nogrod
*Johari, slave escapee (female) - Firefoot
Brenna, slave escapee, 51 y/o female - Undómë
Azhar, slave escapee, young girl - Tevildo
Kwell Dunfire, slave escapee, young boy - Folwren
Slave escapee - SHORT BIO ONLY NEEDED - Orofaniel

Ex-slave

*Khamir, Ex-slave - Durelin
*Reagonn, ex-slave (male) POST NEEDED – Orofaniel
*Aedhild ex-slave (female) - Novnarwen

Will play later in the summer:

Thinlómien (NO MAJOR CHARACTER) - ??? - SHORT BIO ONLY NEEDED

Still being edited.....

[Orofaniel]

Sorry for being so incredibly late. :( (I'm rusty :p)

It's up now however, along with my minor character.

Tell me if it needs editing. :)


Cheers,
Oro

[Nogrod]

Child, Durelin, Pio: When are we going to start this? I'm not in a particular hurry (besides wishing to see the game soon :) ), but would like to know a rough estimate.

The most important reason being, that when I came back from my midsummer-vacation I thought of myself being the last one and wrote all my stuff in a burst - and am not happy at all with the results of that. Now as the game has not started even today, I have begun wondering, whether I would have time to edit and generally upgrade my bios & posts still?

If we start tomorrow or day after that, let them be, but if we start only at the weekend or later, I would be happy to go back and edit a thing or two.

As no one has protested the way I described the slaves escaping from the plantation, I assume it was generally okay. I might make it more realistic still - as one part of my upgrades... (I do not mean making them more bloody but more believable in overall tactical situation and such things)

So any ideas about the starting date? (I might have missed it if it's said somewhere already, but then please correct me, and my apologies)

PS. I'm perfectly fine with your ideas about the NPCs (Child & Durelin), even if you differed on them a bit. I was just trying to clear the issue at least to myself - as this is not the same thing as RPG'ing live with other people... It seems to be a nut to crack, but let's not stumble on to it. It might be best we just see if we need additional characters and take a stance on them then... I do share your confidence on things settling themselves anyhow.

[Durelin]

We'll be starting the game as soon pretty much as soon as Brinniel's first post is up and cleared. I can't give you an exact date, but hopefully we'll be able to start in the next 3-5 days...? Hard to tell.

But, I think you have time to edit things if you want to, Nogrod.

Thanks for hanging in there, everyone. :D

[piosenniel]

Novnarwen

Your character post states you are still 'polishing' it -- please get it edited and poslished by Sunday at the latest.

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

Nogrod

If you can also get your post edited to your satisfaction by Sunday that would be great.

You can always fiddle about with your character bio at your leisure.

~*~ Pio

[Nogrod]

Nogrod

If you can also get your post edited to your satisfaction by Sunday that would be great.
You can always fiddle about with your character bio at your leisure.
That's more than enough time. I thought of "fiddling" them today or tomorrow (before the World Cup games continue, to be sure... :D ).

[Brinniel]

Both your character bio and first post for Shae are down in your post box #108


~*~ Pio

[Durelin]

Wonderful, Brinniel! She should be fun. :D

Thank you so much for the speediness in getting that completed.

[Novnarwen]

Hi!

I've finished my post and inserted my Minor Character Bio! :D

Thanks for your patience. :)

Cheers,
Nova

[piosenniel]

Bringing this forward:

WRITER/CHARACTER LIST


Major Characters


A. Group Sent Out by Aragorn

Child of the 7th Age
Lindir, b.1258 Age of Trees, Noldor Elf (metal crafter, scout) Radagast (Aiwendil), istar (teacher)
Durelin – Vrór Redfist, 91 y/o Dwarf (stone mason)
piosenniel – Rog, 42 y/o male from the East & Harad
Tevildo – Dorran, 39 y/o Rohan (soldier)
Folwren – Athwen, 39, y/o, Rohan, Dorran’s wife (healer)
Hilde Bracegirdle – Carl Cotton, 50 y/o, Hobbit/Bywater (farmer)

B. Inhabitants of Mordor

ORCS - MAJOR CHARACTERS

Regin Hardhammer - Ishkur, age unknown, Orc rebel (male)
Undómë - Zagra & Mazhg, about 36 y/o, Orc rebels (sisters)

Orcs – MINOR CHARACTERS

Regin Hardhammer - Ungolt, 28 y/o, Orc, (female)
Child of the 7th Age - Makdush, 35 y/o, Uruk-hai (male)
Nogrod – Gwerr, age unknown, Orc (male)
Firefoot - Grask, age 9, (male)
~*~

SLAVE ESCAPEES - MAJOR CHARACTERS

Nogrod - Hadith (aka Apples), 18 y/o, slave escapee (male)
Durelin - Adnan, 15 y/o, slave escapee (male)
Firefoot - Johari, 31 y/o, slave escapee (female)
Novnarwen – Aedhild, 42-52 y/o slave escapee (female)

Slave Escapees – MINOR CHARACTERS

Undómë – Brenna, slave escapee, 51 y/o (female)
Tevildo – Azhar, slave escapee, 12 y/o (female)
Folwren - Kwell Dunfire, 13 y/o slave escapee, (male)
Orofaniel - Liviol, almost 20 y/o slave escapee (male)
~*~

EX-SLAVES - MAJOR CHARACTERS

Durelin – Khamir, 37 y/o ex-slave (male)
Orofaniel - Reagonn, in 20’s, ex-slave (male)
Brinniel – Shae, 25 y/o, ex-slave (female)

Ex-Slaves – MINOR CHARACTERS

Novnarwen - Eirnar, 29 y/o, ex-slave (male)
~*~

Mordor inhabitant - ??

Thinlómien (MINOR CHARACTER ONLY) - ??? - SHORT BIO ONLY NEEDED

[Firefoot]

A bio for my minor character is up.

Orc children... what an odd concept.

[Nogrod]

SLAVE ESCAPEES - MAJOR CHARACTERS

Nogrod - Hadith (aka Apples), 18 y/o, slave escapee (male)
Firefoot - Johari, 31 y/o, slave escapee (female)
Novnarwen – Aedhild, 42-52 y/o slave escapee (female)

Slave Escapees – MINOR CHARACTERS

Undómë – Brenna, slave escapee, 51 y/o (female)
Tevildo – Azhar, slave escapee, 12 y/o (female)
Folwren - Kwell Dunfire, 13 y/o slave escapee, (male)
Orofaniel - Liviol, almost 20 y/o slave escapee (male)
~*~


Looking at the list, there seems to be different stories... 50+ slave escapees in question.

The major characters have written:
Nogrod: run with the people of his barracks who had a plan to kind of betray the others who uprised to make sure their own escape.
Firefoot: A loner who didn't want company, but found the other escapees after one or two days of lonely run.
Novnarwen: took her six weeks to come straight to the caves, so not one of the 50+ gang (or should be taken out from that?)

The minor characters had no specifics on their escape, but
Folwren: "joined the desperate group who tried to escape"

So Undómë, Tevildo & Orofaniel, what do you think? Should at least two or three of your minor characters come from that very same barracks who decided to let their friends down and just run for it without a fight and who thence succeeded, getting only a few other individual survivors on their numbers? (according to my narration, of course, but no one has protested - or read it - yet... :) )

In the utmost athmosphere of inconfidence we have written our slaves in (really, people do maintain their humour and manage to live in the worst conditions, but maybe our charachters (partly mine also) are just the only lunatics around... :D ), it would be nice to write with even one or two of us knowing each other beforehand, even fragmentarily. And surely knowing someone is no reason to trust anyone...

One possible tie that I thought of was Undómë's character who was said to be a "no-nonsense sort of woman with a helping hand for those who need it". I have written myself that my character had been taken care by the elders of the barracks because they pitied him for his rough fate. Then Granny Brenna might have known (or even been a friend of sorts) with either Hadith's father or mother, or both - they were roughly the same age-group, maybe a bit younger - and had been one of those who helped him. So she might be one with whom Hadith would have some trust - and possibly she would have some too for Hadith (well, never know)?

Or anything...

Do you think these should be discussed here or just individually via PM's?

[Durelin]

I've definitely noticed the instances where people don't exactly fit into any of the groups. I admit I did not notice so many until I got the chance to just sit down and read all of the posts over (finally had that chance).

I'm pretty sure these things are do-able - the only real issues with them are in the first posts.

I've been working on putting posts in order for going onto the game thread, but I found myself at a loss for where to place Firefoot's, Nova's, and Orofaniel's.

Question, Oro - what does your first post describe, exactly? It describes an escape. Were you envisioning that escape as recent?


In the utmost athmosphere of inconfidence we have written our slaves in (really, people do maintain their humour and manage to live in the worst conditions, but maybe our charachters (partly mine also) are just the only lunatics around... ), it would be nice to write with even one or two of us knowing each other beforehand, even fragmentarily. And surely knowing someone is no reason to trust anyone...

Well, when we open the game, the slaves will have been in the caves for over two months, and will have been on the road for a little while after that. So between the first posts and the start of the game, relationships could have easily formed.

Relationships before the escape are possible, too, and can certainly arise after the start of the game. In your first post, you normally don't establish too much about your character, because obviously what happens in the game is what is going to be important.

And I will say (hopefully Child doesn't mind me sharing this) - we've both noted that the slaves are in-fact less mentally sound than the Orcs seem to be, which is interesting indeed... :D

Okay, so for the loners, we'll just say that the 50 slaves include them as well, I think.

And I think such things can be discussed through whichever form of communication everyone feels more comfortable with.

And Nogrod, your narration works well, I think. I'm still not sure exactly where to put it, but its a good point to work from for arranging other posts around it.

Mostly I think the loners posts will stand on their own, reflecting the fact that they're loners, which, personally, I don't have a problem with. About the only issue is the one you bring up about relationships, Nogrod, and the kind of 'coincidences' that are involved. Those are as much a part of RPing as they are of life, though... ;)

Sorry if any of my explanations were jumbled (and I do hope I answered at least some of your questions, Nogrod...I'm currently listening to my friend singing along to 'King of Spain'... :rolleyes:

[Nogrod]

Durelin, and others too: I'll try to "streamline" Hadith's first post in less than 24 hours - meaning tomorrow for me, as it is 3AM here right now. I also think the basic story is okay, but I'd like to make it a bit more believable and correct the language a bit.

Just a question. I'm not sure if I have been a lazy reader, but is it true, when you say that (underlining mine):
Well, when we open the game, the slaves will have been in the caves for over two months, and will have been on the road for a little while after that. So between the first posts and the start of the game, relationships could have easily formed. So does that mean all of the slaves or only the so called "ex-slaves"? I was just wondering that if some 50+ people would have lived together as refugees for over two months in a cave of sorts, there should be quite established relations between them already with likes and dislikes and so on...

I like surprises and being forced to react to new situations, but when writing the first posts in the actual game it would be nice to refer to some people you see positively or negatively - or at least recognizing them from the mass as you are on your own in the new situation. The normal human psyche seems to be quite fond of anything that is familiar... At least to my eyes it makes a bit better story and helps to establish every writer within the on-forming new community.

(When you just gather total strangers and start a "quest", it's different, but if the storyline says these people have been together for months or even their whole life, it would sound weird if they couldn't relate to each other but only via trial and error...)

[Child of the 7th Age]

Yes, the two month period was intentional. What required us to do this was simply the practical demands of travel. There is a note earlier in the discussion thread in which I calculated rates of travel. In this note I did not even include the additional miles that the slaves would have to travel to get down to the southern mountain range, which would have added on extra days. It would take at least two months for the slaves to go to the southern mountain range, for a merchant to convey their message over to Minas Tirith and for the fellowship itself to travel from Minas Tirith to the caves where the slaves were.

I think it's excellent if you want to talk to other posters and establish your character's relationship with them prior to the game. I also suspect that some of this will come about quickly once the posts start going up--characters reaching out to other characters. Either way is fine. The only point that everyone will need to be careful about is not to post as if their slave just wandered into camp five days ago. :D

Yes, Durelin and I discussed the fact that the Orcs actually seemed "healthier" than some of the slaves. Maybe it's partially our own perception of what orcs and humans should be. It doesn't seem odd that an orc would say he routinely "bashed " other orcs and people. Plus, the orc does not feel particularly guilty about this. He's just doing what orcs do naturally!

We react more strongly when we see a human slave striking out physically at other slaves out of the blue. Our brains label the action as "wrong", indicative of some underlying problem. Humans just aren't "supposed" to do that.

It's almost like differences in gender that still exist in the society even today. When a young boy gets in a fist fight, we often rationalize it with "boys will be boys". When a girl does the exact same thing, we look at that a bit more askance. Girls aren't "supposed" to fight like that.

Anyways, the fellowship members will have a lot of fun figuring out how to react/respond not only to the orcs but also to the slaves. Their life has been so much harder than most of the members of the fellowship. It will be interesting to see how relationships develop.

Nogrod - go ahead and do your revisions tomorrow. Durelin is still working on the order of the posts.

[Durelin]

So does that mean all of the slaves or only the so called "ex-slaves"? I was just wondering that if some 50+ people would have lived together as refugees for over two months in a cave of sorts, there should be quite established relations between them already with likes and dislikes and so on...

We wanted to differentiate from the 'slave escapees' and the 'ex-slaves' only to begin with because they are actually very different, even though once the game starts, they're all thrown together into one story. The slave escapees are simply a group that escaped together (well, that's not the case with the characters some people came up with), and the ex-slaves were actually a part of a gang well before the slave escapees escaped, having escaped at some point probably long before. They're going to be rather different characters, so the differentiation is necessary, even if they are all technically 'ex-slaves' by well over two months by the time the game starts.

But the first posts deal with before this - they're more prologues than anything else, at least in my understanding of them (this is just in this game; I'm not trying to define them overall). So relationships don't need to be established in them, since they are prior to the two months in which many relationships were probably established. And of course relationships were probably established long before that, but its not necessary to cover them in your first post.

So, working those kinds of things out sounds like a good idea - and really, Ive found in the past that mostly those things fall into place too with good gamers (which we've got here). Someone perhaps takes the lead to talk about how they know the person from some other event(s), and the other person flows with it. And if they have a problem with it, they'll probably let you know. ;)

Roleplaying needs its spontaneity, even though you often have to shed it of some in order to have a good experience.

[Brinniel]

Brinniel's character


Name: Shae

Age: 25

Race: Man

Gender: female

Weapons: Two pairs of throwing daggers attached to a belt and a crude long knife tied around the thigh.

Appearance: Though Shae is originally from Gondor, her skin is extremely dark and tan from years of hard labor in the plantation. Her wavy dark brown hair falls down her back in a messy braid. Standing at 5’6, Shae is slender and petite and considered unusually pretty for a former slave, though her face reads otherwise. It has been so many years since Shae has smiled, that her mouth has naturally creased into a frown. Her bright green eyes are sad and reflect the pain she has suffered. Underneath her eyes are dark circles from lack of sleep. Shae’s clothing is ragged and torn and her trousers are ripped off at the calf. Shae does not have shoes- instead she wraps her feet in rags for some protection. She also wraps her palms and wrist in rags as well.

Personality: Since her brother’s death, Shae mostly keeps to herself. She remains quiet and only speaks when she needs to. Shae uses this reserved nature as a shell to stay tough, determined, and most of all, fearless. She isn’t afraid to do anything and does not want others to view her as weak, which is why no one knows one of her biggest physical flaws- she is blind in her left eye. What Shae doesn’t realize, is that keeping to herself is only hurting herself. Still partially blaming herself for her brother’s death, Shae finds her only comfort through self-mutilation, carving shallow cuts into her palms. Shae has no friends and denies the truth that she probably really needs one.

History: Shae was born in Gondor to a pair of farmers. She was the youngest of six, with the oldest closing in on adulthood. Shae remember little about her days before slavery except that they were happy and full of love. Those days ended when she was five, one year before the fall of Sauron. One day a combination of Southrons and Orcs invaded the farm. In the process, both parents were killed and the children were captured as slaves. Shae was sent to a different plantation than four of her siblings and never saw them again. All she had left was her eleven-year-old brother, Joren.

From the moment the family was separated, Joren swore to his sister he would take care of her. For twelve years he kept that promise protecting and caring for her. The fall of Sauron came and passed, and the hope of being freed quickly died. Still, both children remained obedient, doing whatever possible to avoid severe beatings. When Shae was ten, she collapsed in the fields from heat exhaustion, and as a result an overseer gave her a large blow to the head. Joren was there to nurse her to full recovery. He held her hand when the other slaves had to cut off her hair to remove dry blood and stitch the wound. A week later, when Shae suddenly lost sight in her left eye, Joren helped her deal with her new disability. Through the years, the brother and sister became best friends and were inseparable.

That all ended during their twelfth year as slaves. Shae was seventeen, no longer a girl, but a young woman. She looked to each day with optimism, working harder than any other slave in the fields. One night on the way back to her quarters, a guard pulled her aside and brutally raped her. Afterwards, Shae’s mood suddenly shifted. She had no appetite and hardly spoke. She felt ashamed and unclean. Joren immediately noticed this change and questioned Shae. After learning what happened, Joren became outraged and lost all control of reason. He attacked the guard while he was unwary and killed him with a shovel. Many witnessed this murder, and as punishment, Joren was tortured then put to death.

Shae was devastated. Her brother was the only reason she survived through all these years. She felt partly responsible for his painful death, but most of all she was angry at the ones who had killed him. Joren’s death became a wake-up call for Shae. For years, Shae had accepted her life as a slave. Now, more than anything she wanted freedom and a chance to avenge her brother’s death. She quickly found a group of seven slaves who had been planning escape for months and joined their mission. Only two weeks after Joren’s death, the eight slave made their escape. Though two died in the process, the escape was a success.

The weeks following the escape were tougher than expected. Food and water was limited and many were exhausted from the escape. The situation grew worse when Shae and another slave fell ill from drinking foul water. The group refused to stop for them, so both forced themselves to push on. For the first time in her life, Shae felt completely alone, surrounded by strangers who could care less about her health. When the other slave succumbed to the illness, the others regarded Shae as dead as well, ignoring her and letting her drag behind. Despite the lack of faith in her companions, Shae was determined to live and avenge her family. Shae had been ill for a week when the group encountered a larger group of ex-slaves. The five joined this group and Shae finally received proper treatment from a kind woman and fully recovered a few days later. Though she had survived the illness, many of the ex-slaves regarded Shae as weak and gave her little respect. Determined to change their opinions and fit in, Shae spent the next year strengthening herself for what the ex-slaves had to endure. She taught herself to use weapons and learned to be an expert thief. Shae killed with no mercy, thinking only of the family she lost and determined to give those who had harmed her and her family what they deserve. Within a couple of years among the ex-slave, Shae was no longer regarded as weak, but instead equal to any other man in the group. Now with only fifteen of them left, Shae is respected for her determination and many abilities.

_______________________


Alright, I've finished my post.

I wrote it so it would take place right after Khamir's first post.


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


Brinniel's post - Shae


All slaves sentenced to death were to be executed publicly. Joren was no excuse- he was to be made an example of. The slaves of the southeastern quarters had only been asleep for a couple hours when they were reawakened and ordered to watch the execution. The hundred or so of them rubbed their groggy eyes and gathered around the wooden platform. Shae stood in the front. Joren had been there for her, through good and bad, and she would do the very same until the end. Her brother was dragged onto the platform, bleeding and his head hanging. His ears and tongue were gone, as were his fingers. For several minutes, the guards taunted Joren as they beat him. Then they pulled him to his feet. The executioner sharpened and positioned his blade. For a split second, Joren’s eyes found Shae’s. His expression was not one of fear, but of sincerity and regret. And then it was gone. The blade ran swiftly through his neck and then it was over. The slaves all trudged back to their quarters until there was only Shae left. Hands clenched into fists and feet planted to the ground, she found herself unable to take her eyes off her brother’s body. Then something in the dirt- a shine of silver- caught her eye. Shae reached down and picked up the item. It was a necklace- Joren’s necklace. The small symbol of the White Tree glowed dully underneath the stars. It was the last bit of her brother she had left. Tonight was the first night Shae was completely alone.

*********************

Shae woke suddenly, clutching the necklace, her forehead beaded with sweat. Taking a deep breath, she allowed her senses to return and opened her eyes. All around her, bodies were sprawled out inside the cave, fast asleep.
Great, she thought. It’s still night.
Shae was tired of having the same dream. Almost every night she witnessed Joren’s murder over and over again. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get her brother out of her head.

Shae sat up and unwrapped the rag on her left hand. Scars covered her palm and the most recent wound was only beginning to heal. Shae unlatched a dagger from her belt and used it to reopen the wound. The familiar pain felt soothing to Shae and as the blood poured from her hand, so did the memories of Joren’s death.

As Shae rewrapped her hand, one of the slave escapees kicked her foot in his sleep, startling her. Shae was not used to the large size of the group. For over a month, there had been only fifteen of them. She enjoyed the small number- all could carry their own weight and most were quiet and kept to themselves. Last night, the ex-slaves stumbled upon a large group of slave escapees and suddenly the number jumped from fifteen to sixty-five. There would be no privacy.

Outside, Shae could see a line of pink on the horizon. Dawn was approaching. No point in trying to go back to sleep now. Brushing back strands of tangled hair, she stood up and stepped outside, waiting for the sun to rise.

“Couldn’t sleep again?”
Shae turned around to find Khamir, as usual, on the last watch of the night.
She shook her head. “No. Too much to think about.”
“I know what you mean.” Khamir paused a moment before continuing. “We have sixty-five mouths to feed. I think we need to have a hunting party go out this morning. You up to it?”
“Of course,” she replied. “Aren’t I always? How about you?”
“No,” he said, scanning the sky. “I have a letter to write.”

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

Let me know if anything needs to be edited.

[Orofaniel]

Question, Oro - what does your first post describe, exactly? It describes an escape. Were you envisioning that escape as recent?


Hm.

Well, I thought I had made it clear in my post, but perhaps I haven't. My mistake. I'll explain. :)

The first paragraphs are just images of the events taking place when Reagonn still was a slave at the plantation; It's just describing the fire and what happened to him while in the shelter when the fire broke out.

These images are things that he re-lives in his nightmares after he has escape from the plantation.


Witnessing this he realised that it was time for his second attempt to escape. Not only from the fire, but from the plantation.

Reagonn has already tried to escape once from the plantation together with Bornir, but it was unsuccessful. What is supposed to important in this scene is that the other slaves' main concern is to escape from the fire - to survive. Yet, what good will that do? If they do survive, they have to labour hard until they die anyway. Reagonn realises that the fire can actually save him, from his misery, yet he refuses to let this be his destiny.

So what's he's basically saying is that, 1) either he burns to death now, or 2) he escapes both the fire and from the plantation. These are his only options.

He decides to take advantage of the situation and he finds a way out of the shelter - unnoticed, due to the thick dark smoke, fire, people etc - and he escapes from the plantation.

This dream, which he had dreamt so many times before would not leave him. – (from the second to last paragraph.)

It’s referring to the images from the fire etc.


Did that clear things up? If not, I’m going to have to re-write it.

[Novnarwen]

I feel like such a trouble maker.. :p

Yes, Durelin and I discussed the fact that the Orcs actually seemed "healthier" than some of the slaves. Maybe it's partially our own perception of what orcs and humans should be. It doesn't seem odd that an orc would say he routinely "bashed " other orcs and people. Plus, the orc does not feel particularly guilty about this. He's just doing what orcs do naturally!

We react more strongly when we see a human slave striking out physically at other slaves out of the blue. Our brains label the action as "wrong", indicative of some underlying problem. Humans just aren't "supposed" to do that.

I feel I need to say something in this regard, as I recognise this kind of incident as part of my post. I do agree that some of the slaves seem less healthy than the Orcs, but then again, I feel that if not natural, then at least that's what I would personally expect..

The human slaves have been under an enormous pressure; they have worked at plantations in Mordor, a place that even made Gandalf shudder. The point is that, realistically, one can't exclude, or rather, one shouldn't exclude, that the slaves are not the same as they were when they finally return to an existence of freedom. (Maybe some of the slaves will find themselves that they aren't handling this new existence in the slightest; after all, for the first time in many years they are living in uncertainty. At the plantations they knew at least that they would get fed and live if they worked.) Surely, years of abuse and sufferings would mark them, both physically and mentally. I don’t regard slavery as something that will ‘be over’ once released; I would imagine that the effects of slavery are not something short-lived, (in fact, I do imagine my character being ‘ill’ until the very end…) and trying to depict this through my character has been one of my main focuses, even though it will mean that my character (and as I can see, others) will be less healthy than the Orcs.

The main difference I see between the Orcs and the humans, in regard to healthiness, is that the Orcs were rebels, not slaves; though one can expect them to be affected by what they have been part of (as slaves guards etc), to me I would expect them to be healthier, because otherwise they wouldn't have been able to rebel against their own kind.

Personally, I also feel I need to explain Aedhild's actions. Yes, she did indeed strike Eirnar, not because she necessarily wanted to, but rather in mere desperation and fright that he was a traitor and would turn her in. The strike in itself doesn't reflect her illness(es), but rather how greatly she values her newly found freedom. Additionally, I would again try to underline that her condition, her schizophrenia has derived from the sufferings and the identity issues she struggles with, and I do not think such an illness is particularly unrealistic considering what she has been through. I mean, would any of us be perfectly sane/healthy after seeing fellow slaves slaughtered in front of our own eyes, to thereafter live with the uncertainty of whether we would be next?

To me, from the start, when reading other people's bios and writing my own, I have been looking forward to what I consider one of the great conflicts in this story; how the escaped slaves can handle this regained freedom (again, if some are able to handle it at all), how they individually and together handle the effects (regardless of what they are) slavery has had on them, the consequences of these effects and how this affects the slaves' relationships with each other...

I realise that everyone may be under a different impression than myself, and that is good. I like diversity, and respect it. I just thought, as my post was indirectly referred to that I should try explaining my views, although perhaps irrelevant. I apologize if I've troubled you, Durelin and Child, unnecessarily about figuring out how it all fits, and am willing to withdraw my character if it was over the top and not appropriate for the game you had in mind. :)

Cheers,
Nova ;)

[Durelin]

I'm sorry I made you feel like explaining yourself was necessary, Nova. It was simply an observation out of amusment. And the amusement was not out of 'oh, their characters are so over the top.' There is nothing wrong with anyone's character.

Oro - I understood that you were describing his escape, but I was wondering when you were imagining this escape took place. As Reagonn is a part of the ex-slave gang before the 50 more recent slave escapees escape, it's just a little difficult to fit Reagonn's own escape into the timeline. That is the only issue, and I just want to work that out. (If you'd prefer working it out by PM, please feel free to PM me.)


I mean, would any of us be perfectly sane/healthy after seeing fellow slaves slaughtered in front of our own eyes, to thereafter live with the uncertainty of whether we would be next?

Some of us might be still quite sane (well, and you also would have to define sanity to determine those sorts of things, which personally I find difficult)...we would certainly all be quite changed, in many ways, but not necessarily insane. But that's not really an issue. Your characters are your characters...and there is nothing wrong with them. (And if that sounds at all 'condesending' or such, it definitely is not meant to!)

Thank you, everyone, and sorry to cause anyone distress over their character. I did not mean to.

And Brinniel - Excellent post. I see nothing that needs to be changed. :)

[Child of the 7th Age]

Nova,

Bear with me....this will be long. I was the one who originally brought this topic up with Durelin. Behind my light hearted musings (which is mainly what they were), there was a serious observation. You deserve an explanation.

First, you've written a strong character, and I certainly wouldn't want you to change her. I used that incident as an example because the post had an immediate impact on me when I read it. It is well written and very clearly conveys the mental and emotional scars that Aedhild bears because of her experiences. If anything, my comment was a tip of the hat to you because the scene was so compelling. If that didn't come across clearly, I apologize.

There were actually a number of slave characters who behaved in "irrational" ways because of the terrible experiences they'd been through. Another one is Firefoot's Johari who convinces herself that someone is alive who is actually dead. I think all of these are very realistic depictions of what happens to people when they are put in situations that are beyond anything a human should endure.

Because I am an historian, I tend to relate things in Middle-earth to events I studied about in the "real world". To me, the situation on the Mordor plantations is half way between two horrific real life events: the worst excesses of black slavery in the southern U.S. prior to the civil war and the death/work camps during World War II. Some people are able to put their lives back together after experiences like these, but it leaves a mark on everyone and there are some who never adapt. When I was younger, I lived one summer with a woman who had survived Auschwitz. She was a good, kind person who lived a productive life but even after all those years there were times when the horrors came back to haunt her.

Tolkien himself was aware that being exposed too long to evil was a dangerous thing. We don't get a close look at the Easterlings or Haradrim, but we do have the examples of Saruman and Frodo. Merely by immersing himself in the study of Sauron and the Ring, the great istar Saruman turned "bad" and was utterly incapable of change even when he was offered that chance. When Frodo crossed the plains of Mordor bearing the Ring, it also left physical and emotional scars that he was unable to deal with even in the relatively kind society of the Shire. Unlike these slaves, Frodo had a comfortable life and an amazing network of friends looking out for him after the war. Yet, even with all that support, he was still broken and had to leave the Shire in hopes of "saving" himself.

I see each of these slaves as having to bear a portion of the Ring....not in a literal but a figurative sense. In Mordor, it is as if the blackness invades the land itself and pollutes whatever it touches, including the people who live in the southern plains. My guess is that some of the Mordor slaves will be able to take positive action and attempt to change (even though there will always be scars), as Frodo did in his decision to seek help in the West. Others, like Saruman, will be unable to get beyond the evil that has touched them, and it will become part of who they are, eventually destroying them. Really sobering stuff. Along with the question of whether orcs are redeemable, this is one of the most important questions of this story ---is change possible for the slaves who have been so abused and lived so close to evil? Your post was a vivid illustration of that theme.

There is also a second reason I brought this up. We have an unusual juxtaposition of characters in this story: the abused slaves, the abusing orcs, and the relatively optomistic expectations of those in the fellowship. (Mark me ---I use the word relatively here, because all of us have issues no matter how healthy we are.)

The slaves' behavior has to have an impact on members of the fellowship who are coming to "help". Will they be prepared to deal with this level of misery and anger? Members of the fellowship expect to have trouble with Orcs.....they would not be shocked or stunned to see an Orc murder someone. But they may have more difficulty in understanding and accepting the behavior of some of the slaves. I think my own character Lindir the Elf will understand to some degree--he fought in the wars of Beleriand and was present at the forging of the lesser rings. Poor Radagast is going to get an education, I fear. Coming from Valinor, he has been relatively sheltered. I am very curious to see how all the members of the fellowship will respond to the misery and deprivation they witness, as well as the emotional toll that evil has taken on the slaves. Certainly those posting for the fellowship can not ignore this.

Hope this explains why I brought this up, and the role that all this will likely play in the story. And that discussion doesn't even bring the orcs into the equation! This should be an interesting game.....

Sorry for this long-winded explanation but I wanted to get this down in words as much for myself as others!

************************

Yeah! Everything looks good. As soon as Nogrod finishes his edit and we recommend a post order to Pio, we should shortly be on our way.

[Nogrod]

Yeah! Everything looks good. As soon as Nogrod finishes his edit and we recommend a post order to Pio, we should shortly be on our way.That should be in in a couple of hours... (I'ts almost done, but I have to write one death scene to a WW-game before finishing it)

[Child of the 7th Age]

Nogrod-

Take the time you need. We're still mulling over posts.

Child

[Folwren]

Well I'm back, and there have been a lot of long posts. Really long posts. . .do you suppose that it will be necessary for me to read them all?

When do we start? I glanced over the posts and noticed that Child said once Brinniel had gotten her post and bio up we would. . .well, that's done - are we starting shortly, then?

One problem - I'm going out of town again tomorrow and don't know if I'll have access. I may. . .or may not. . .if I don't, then I won't really be on again until Monday, or even Tuesday. :( I'm sorry. This was unexepcted. . .though I don't know why. We'd been planning this 4th of July weekend for weeks, I think.

Anyhow, let me know what I need to do. If it does require reading what's been said, I guess I could do it.

For now, I need to go pack and visit my horse.

-- Folwren

[Novnarwen]

Thanks Child for explaining. I greatly appreciate you taking time to write and clearing things up (at least for my part :)). I too think this will be an interesting game because of the great variety of characters, and I'm looking forward to see how it all develops.

I see that the game is about to start. Regrettably, I won't be here when that happens. Feel free to carry along my characters, and use them in any way you deem appropriate or else... Aedhild will go nuts... :p

Thanks again,
Nova :D

[Child of the 7th Age]

We just finished ironing out the post order. Durelin will be talking with Pio about a start date. One of us will post that info as soon as we get it.

In addition to Novnarwen and Folwren being absent over the long weekend, I will be gone through Tuesday afternoon as will Regin Hardhammer. I will get a list up tomorrow of known absences from the game so we can keep an eye on this.

Edits: Whoops! Just heard that Tevildo will also be out over the holiday weekend. That makes five posters....

[Hilde Bracegirdle]

Yes, and I will be having guests tomorrow and will be out Sunday as well.

Next weekend if you will excuse me, I have an out of town wedding to attend, but that should be the end of my absences until a bit more of short duration crop up in August.

[Nogrod]

Okay!

I have made my upgrades.

On the Bios there are only little, basically stylistic changes (I would still appreciate them to be counted).

But Hadith's first post is now much more believable and fits in better with what others have told in their posts about the escapees...

The renewed versions are in the same spot the older ones were, currently in post #73.

Hope to see the game start soon! :)

[Folwren]

Piosenniel, I have mentioned it to Tevildo and I don't know why he has not made any change, but I noticed in your last list of characters, ages, races, and players, you mentioned that Dorran was 37 and Athwen 39. Well, that is indeed the ages that are in our bios (at least, last time I checked they were.) However, the two are the same age, and they're both supposed to be 39. Dorran is a few months older than Athwen. I brought up this subject with Tevildo in a PM some weeks ago, and my calculations are correct, so if you could please change his age to 39 at least in your list of characters, then that would be great. Sometime or other, Tevildo will edit his own post, I think, or you could just do it for him.

Child and Durelin: At the beginning of the story, the ex-slaves and the slave escapees are all together, right? The slave escapees have already done their escape and we will not have to write about it, correct?

I'm going to bed. I will try to gain access to a computer sometime when I am gone this weekend, but no promises. 'Sides that, I doubt too many people will mind, for it seems several of you are busy, too.

-- Folwren

[piosenniel]

Folwren

Dorran's age corrected. (though it was rather fun to think of Athwen as a cradle-robber! :p )

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


EVERYONE

The posts are all on the RPG Thread.

The game will open Monday, July 3 -- very early, Pacific Time, U.S. (when I get home from work)


~*~ Pio

[Tevildo]

My apologies, Folwren. :eek: I have finally made the correction in the profile.

Many thanks Pio for setting up the thread and giving us the opening date. Durelin, Child - I will be back on Tuesday.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Here is the list of current "away" dates that I have. If I've missed yours or put something down in error, please let me know and I will add.

July

Novnarwen: a few days in late July
Folwren: July 10-14
Brinniel: July 16-28
Hilde: July 8-9
Firefoot: July 20-29
Nogrod: July 18-20

August

Hilde: possible short dates in August
Nogrod: first week of August
Folwren: August 13-28
Child: August 23-28
Regin: August 23-30
Tevildo: roughly the last week in August


Thinlomien: joining the game in August

So far it looks as if our biggest problem will be late in August with at least four out.

I have not listed the coming weekend since we already know who will be missing: Tevildo, Child, Folwren, Regin, Novnarwen, plus Hilde for Saturday and Sunday.

[Firefoot]

I mentioned this to Durelin but I guess it didn't make its way here - I'll be gone from roughly the 20-29 of July.

-----

EDIT -- OK, you're on the list

~*~ Pio

[Nogrod]

I'll be away some three-four days in the middle of July (between 15th and 20th, about). We're getting into middle of nowhere with Lommy & her friends + her little sister... :)

Was there a plan how the orcs start posting? The slaves start both groups as one as they have met, but where are the orcs when the game begins?

********************

EDIT

Thanks, Nogrod. I added the dates. - Child of the 7th Age

[Child of the 7th Age]

Maybe the Orcs meet and set out from the redezvous point where Regin's character Ishkur is already stationed? Perhaps they are afraid about being followed?

Since we are physically behind the other two bands, let's assume we were on a plantation that was slightly more towards the east on the northern border of the Sea. That means we head west and north in the game. (Undómë mentioned walking west in her post, I think, and Regin mentioned north so we'll combine those and go northwest.) Let's stick fairly close to the banks of the Sea to begin with and then swing north once we've cleared the Sea, thus following in the footsteps of the slaves and fellowships.

Unlike the fellowship and slaves, I don't think the orcs have a clear idea of where they're trying to get to (other than the direction). They basically want to find someplace to the north where there is good game and not too many other Orcs around to bother them.

Regin, Undómë, Nogrod, Firefoot - if you have other ideas, hope you'll share them on the thread or by pm. I am away this weekend till Tuesday, and Regin's name is also on the away list.

Nogrod and Firefoot - I definitely hope you'll feel free to pitch in and post with your minor characters since we have just two posters who took orcs as major characters. I am especially looking forward to seeing Firefoot's 9 year-old orc.

[Durelin]

Thanks to my lovely family, I will be gone during the day tomorrow, though I will be back in the evening.

I will have a post ready sometime tonight/very early tomorrow morning (EST time...it's about 9:55 PM here now).

Is it alright if I PM you, Pio, with a post to go on the RPG thread when you open it tomorrow, as long as I can get it to you before it's open (otherwise I will just post it on the game thread if you open it early morning)?

I wanted to get a post up just to help get things started.

Sorry everyone for such late notice.

[Brinniel]

I just found out I'll be getting back from vacation a day earlier than planned, so I'll be gone from the 16-28, but I'll be around for the 29th. :)

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

EDIT: Change made to the vacation list. :) ~*~ Pio

[piosenniel]

Durelin

The RPG thread is now open for posts

[piosenniel]

Everyone

For those of you writing for more than one character - please put the character's name you are writing for at the top of the post, in bold.

So, for example - Nogrod would put Hadith at the top of the posts for his slave character, and Gwerr at the top of the posts for his Orc.


Thanks!

~*~ Pio

[Durelin]

Very sorry for my little outburst about posting! I panicked. Luckily, I somehow have time this morning (well, I'm making time...). :D

Thank you, Pio!

[Nogrod]

I've posted in too and just two things...

Durelin: Check if what I wrote about the general order is okay. I think the more experienced people would have to have teached the newcomers some basics. It would be folly if the 15 would have f.ex. made all the hunting, guarding etc. for all the 65.

Firefoot: If my description of Johari at the camp is in any way incorrect or twisted, contact me and I'll change what needs to be changed. The place I left our characters can surely lead to Johari scorning the stupid brat, but there might be a chance for some discussion. If so, should we plan it together?

[Firefoot]

Looks perfectly fine to me. :)

[Durelin]

Nogrod - Your post is excellent. Bringing up the training of some of the young men was really great, so, definitely no problems here. Perhaps Beloan will pass on words of praise about Hadith to Khamir. And that may or may not be good for the young man. :D

[Nogrod]

Okay. The orcs are on the move also.

There were some difficulties to write the first "on the thread" post because there were so many things undecided and some conflicting accounts of things on the first posts.

I've boldly taken a stance on some of the undecided issues and tried to formulate something of a compromise to settle the discrepancies.

Feel free to disagree and I will be ready to change what should be changed.

[Nogrod]

Orcs
By way of explanation and some questions...


Makdush and "a couple of his fellow Uruk-hai" is said to join the rebellion. Ishkur has been told to join the rebellion. Gwerr is said to be one of the planners.

So we need more planners to the rebellion.

I've come up with one, named Colagar, and would like to stick with only one (we could correct the last sentence in Gwerr's History from "one of the planners" to "the other planner". Just to reduce the number of important characters that are not actually written by anyone. In such a small group it would be harder to write if there are lots of important characters that are "non-written" characters.


It seems that Gwerr and Ishkur are the only "written" age-old orcs. This Colagar should be one too, as I think these age-old orcs would like to stick with themselves and trust only those of "reasonable" experience (call it a couple of thousand years or something). But that should mean that Ishkur and Gwerr probably know each other in advance (some thousands years of common experiences and fates should make one at least able to relate to the other one :) ). I think they should not be too good "friends" though, as one of the goals of this game was to see what the orcs could be capable of.

So Regin: how about we start with the assumption that both Gwerr and Ishkur have a shared past (well not necessarily been at the same platoons or something, but having beeen involved in the same battles and hardships - and ended up on the same plantation) and would thence be inclined to trust each other somewhat - at least over the others. Colagar could be something like Gwerr's "mate", but as you see from the first post I made, their relation is not the happiest one. That would set us the opportunity to go and see the ways how our characters could come to know each other better during this little trek and see what comes out of it: disaster or friendship - or something in between?

But what about the overall orc-gang?

There are seven written characters. Of these two are very-very old and one is an Uruk (3/15). Then we have the around thirty females (3/15) and the male kid (1/15). That makes 7/15 (surprise!). Of the others Child talks about a few Uruks. If that would be something like three and then we count Colagar, the age-old one whom I have already written into the story (as the second planner), we will have 4/15 more. That leaves us only with three orcs remaining unknown. Any ideas? Or should Child's "a few" mean only two? If there are four Uruks in the group of fifteen, it would be hard enough for the others...

Oh, why am I counting these things? Well, clearly there will be something like test of powers or at least scheming towards it between the male Uruks and the male orcs (at least the three older orcs), so it would be nice to know the balance and therefore the overall rest of the party. And surely the bunch of females we have along wouldn't stay neutral in here? With such a small gang, all the roles are important (yes, we don't need to know every person in the 65-person slave gang, but here it would be good to know them).

So any ideas?

PS. Firefoot and Regin. I've made the numbers in my first post such that you can choose yourselves whether your minor characters had been on this "large gang" that ended up with the guards and hacked/slipped away with Gwerr and Colagar or whether you came to the meeting place by yourselves...

[Durelin]

Nogrod - First I want to note that I posted a bit concerning Hadith, and wanted to make sure what I did was alright. I went ahead and assumed that any weapon's Hadith used were only 'borrowed' and he had not been exactly given one of his own. If you thought otherwise and/or find that in any way absurd, just let me know and I can edit.

And concerning the Orc group - I do see your point about knowing the numbers of the different types of Orcs especially. I'm sure at least one or two of the Orcs will be considering the options they have when it comes to bleeding each other. And I imagine we want things to be 'even' in some way, so the Orcs are more discouraged from just fighting each other.

Child should be back today or tomorrow, and you'll/we'll have to check with her about some of things. The Orcs are more her field because of her character, and I'm not going to say anything for sure without consulting her.

Personally, I think four Uruks versus...about 8 regular Orc males? (Sorry, I'm more uncertain about the numbers than you are) I think those are fairly even, though I may be downplaying things a bit.

And as for old Orcs...well, I can't say I've considered geriatric Orcs before... I think it would be plenty believable that they'd still be able to hold their own pretty well. :D

[Nogrod]

Nogrod - First I want to note that I posted a bit concerning Hadith, and wanted to make sure what I did was alright. I went ahead and assumed that any weapon's Hadith used were only 'borrowed' and he had not been exactly given one of his own. If you thought otherwise and/or find that in any way absurd, just let me know and I can edit.Yes, I did see your earlier post of not trusting the newcomers with weapons - so no problem here. That works fine with me - and sounds reasonable from the more experienced slaves point of view.

And concerning the Orc group - I do see your point about knowing the numbers of the different types of Orcs especially. I'm sure at least one or two of the Orcs will be considering the options they have when it comes to bleeding each other.

Child should be back today or tomorrow, and you'll/we'll have to check with her about some of things. The Orcs are more her field because of her character, and I'm not going to say anything for sure without consulting her.

Personally, I think four Uruks versus...about 8 regular Orc males? (Sorry, I'm more uncertain about the numbers than you are) I think those are fairly even, though I may be downplaying things a bit.
Surely we don't want a bloodbath to begin with, but that thought must be nagging quite many of them, I suppose - considering the rivalry and mutual scorn between the "basic" orcs and the Uruks - adding the twist of the subgroup of age-old orcs within the group of normal orcs with their experience...

But this 8-4 setting would mean that the only females are those who are written for... (and one of the 8 males is 9-years old). I think there should be females also among the orcs no one writes for and maybe another very young one? That's why I was worried about four Uruk-males in the company. We could of course decide it that way, but then it would hang on the benevolence of the Uruks (or the utmost craftiness of Ishkur, Gwerr and Colagar + the determination of the females to take their sides and to fight for it together) to make the balance in the possible confrontation? Either option might be quite far-fetched, but surely we could try them... But then there would not be any balance to start with and so encouraging the stronger party to seek supremacy early on (which we do not want, I suppose/hope).

So any ideas? Child? Others?

[Folwren]

I'm sorry, everybody. . .I was going to be here this morning, but as it turns out, I wasn't, and I'm only here now, fifteen minutes before dinner time. I am just checking in now and later I'll have to read the game and write a post. Hopefully I'll be able to do it all this evening.

The reason I'm eleven hours later than I intended to be was because our horse, in another pasture for camp this summer, injured himself very, very badly. If any of you would, please pray, 'cause he'll need everything he can get. The cut is on his right hind leg and is very nasty and very dangerous to his health - and life, even.

Till later, all.

-- Folwren

[Durelin]

I'm so sorry to hear that, Folwren! That's horrible!

Don't worry about being gone; I just hope everything will be alright. Our prays are definitely with you and your horse. :(

[Nogrod]

Folwren, my praying for you and your horse would probably not be counted as I am no christian, but I will have my thoughts with you and your horse. They may not help in that framework, but I hope they might comfort a bit.

So sorry to hear that.

I wish your horse all the best.
(How clumsy one is with a foreign language... but I hope you got the idea)

[Firefoot]

My thoughts and prayers are with you, Folwren.

(How clumsy one is with a foreign language... but I hope you got the idea) Don't I feel silly... I knew, of course, that you lived in Finland - but I never followed the thought logically through that English isn't the native language up there. :rolleyes: I admire you people whose native language isn't English and I can't even tell. That's seriously amazing.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Folwren,

I am sorry to hear this. My thoughts and prayers are with you.

_____________________

I have just gotten back and must read over the discussion thread and the game. I promise to post in the story and to respond to questions on this thread, hopefully tomorrow.

[Tevildo]

Folwren,

I am really sorry to hear this. I hope things turn out well.

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

I just arrived home and will look at the game tomorrow.

[Hilde Bracegirdle]

I will keep both horse and family in prayer, Folwren.

[Firefoot]

I'm a little bit confused about the Orcs' situation. I had assumed that they would be skipping two months from the first posts just like the rest of the groups, but Nogrod's post seems to immediately follow them. If they did skip two months... what have they been doing in the mean time? If they had just kept travelling, they would be far ahead of the slaves/Gondorian group...

[Regin Hardhammer]

So Regin: how about we start with the assumption that both Gwerr and Ishkur have a shared past (well not necessarily been at the same platoons or something, but having beeen involved in the same battles and hardships - and ended up on the same plantation) and would thence be inclined to trust each other somewhat - at least over the others. Colagar could be something like Gwerr's "mate", but as you see from the first post I made, their relation is not the happiest one. That would set us the opportunity to go and see the ways how our characters could come to know each other better during this little trek and see what comes out of it: disaster or friendship - or something in between?

I think it's fine that our characters have had some sort of past relationship. I'll make sure to include that in my next post. In regard to the general question of conflict between the orcs and the uruk-hai, I think there will definitely be some of that in the game, both in terms of personalities and vying for political power within the orc group.

However, I do think that some of those concerns will be swept away when the orcs are presented with a group of slaves and men from the west. Whether they like it or not, the confrontation will force them to learn to cooperate with each other.

- Regin

[Durelin]

I'm a little bit confused about the Orcs' situation. I had assumed that they would be skipping two months from the first posts just like the rest of the groups, but Nogrod's post seems to immediately follow them. If they did skip two months... what have they been doing in the mean time? If they had just kept travelling, they would be far ahead of the slaves/Gondorian group...

I think we're assuming that the Orcs' first posts actually occured after the two month skip for the Fellowship and the slaves.

Is that what you were thinking, Child? (Another question for you, sorry. Please, take your time responding. :D )

I'm sorry for the confusion...time is an odd thing, particularly in games.

[Nogrod]

= Durelin
I'm sorry for the confusion...time is an odd thing, particularly in games.Yes it seems, but in #126 Child was encouraging us to start posting to get the orcs on the way.

And surely it's better that we get also the orcs on the move so that the characters have time to get to know each other and create relations before meeting with challenges?

[Child of the 7th Age]

This is not something that Durelin and I have talked about at length, but this is my perception. Durelin -- if you see things differently, please pitch in and we can hammer this out.

I have been involved in a number of games that initially had two or three separate story lines. Generally, we have not made an effort to coordinate the time line for these different groups until the actual point when the characters met up in the story. Thus, the fellowship/slaves might be settling down in camp for the night while the orcs are posting in the morning (or vice versa). It might be day one for the Orcs on the trail and day three for the other group.

The same is true for the two-month gap. You are certainly correct that the Orcs left their plantation (not necessarily the same one from which the slaves escaped) months later than the slaves. This is why the Orc posts were put at the end of the first posts....after those of the slaves and those of the fellowship leaving Gondor.

If it would make things clearer, I will gladly append a heading to the first orc post (I believe Regin's) that would simply say "Two months later"... or some such indication that time has passed.

I think we have very good precedent for treating time like this: the example of Tolkien himself. LotR consists of a series of interlaced stories. Tolkien did keep strict account of the various days the different groups spent on their activties in his outlines, but he was very loose about this in the story itself. We don't get an exact accounting with days and nights matching up purposely between Sam and Frodo, for example, and those of the rest of the group.

I think this loose correspondence will work till the point when the groups actually meet. I do have some thoughts on the Orc situation and will post when I get back from my taxi duties as mom.

[Nogrod]

So as a rule of thumb the writers of the slave characters are encouraged to move on to the next day every once in a while (if nothing particular is happening f.ex.) and the orc-writers should try to be careful not to be hasty in changing the days in their narration? So like rapid time (slaves) vs. slow time (orcs)?

[Firefoot]

Okay, sounds good. :)

[Durelin]

So as a rule of thumb the writers of the slave characters are encouraged to move on to the next day every once in a while (if nothing particular is happening f.ex.) and the orc-writers should try to be careful not to be hasty in changing the days in their narration? So like rapid time (slaves) vs. slow time (orcs)?

Really, there is no rule of thumb, except that the Orcs can't catch up to the slaves before the Fellowship does, or anything of that sort. Time moves as it best fits each group and what is going on in each group, though there are a few limitations to this (such as the Orcs not wanting to catch up to or get far ahead of the slaves group, or something of that nature). So, the 'rapid time vs. slow time' scenario that you suggested could happen, but so could others.

At least, that is my understanding. I've done...well, more than I feel like counting RPGs that have several groups doing their own thing all at once. Day and night might be different for the two, but somehow it all works out in the end. :D

[Nogrod]

Day and night might be different for the two, but somehow it all works out in the end. :DI do agree with this.

What I meant was, that if the orcs have shorter journey before the meeting of the groups than the slaves, then they can't afford changing the day/night phases all the time as the slaves can if they wish. Or something. I'm not sure if I'm making myself clear now... :confused:

But that opened up a new question. How do we indeed change days or make leaps in them (at least the slaves probably will have to do some)?

Leaps surely should be proposed by Durelin / Child I guess, but how just getting people to the night or morning or whatever? What I was thinking is that we have so few people writing at the moment that if someone suggests in this thread f.ex. that should we turn over to a night-camp, how many people should confirm that it is okay? If we wait for everyone's consent it might take a week (RL)?

[Child of the 7th Age]

Yes, I agree.

The only thing I ask is that the orcs hold back from seeing or interacting with members of the slaves/fellowship (and vice-versa as well). I promise that will come soon enough, and one of the game founders, or someone we designate will do a post that initiates the contact. Then you will be free to follow up and push the action forward in whatever crazy ways you can think of.

Just a comment about something Nogrod said about the conflict between the Orcs and Uruk-hai. Certainly, there will be some of that. Shall we make it 3 male Uruks (all excellent soldiers), 8 male orcs, and the rest women? (That will give us one female who is "not written".)

But I think that Regin said something which is key. Once there is contact between the two groups---orcs versus slaves/fellowship---I have a feeling that initial confrontation (peaceful or not) is going to loom so large that former splits in each group (orc versus uruk, slave escapee versus ex-slave) will begin to shrink a bit. Whether they like it or not, Uruks will be compelled to cooperate with orcs, and ex-slaves with escapees (that is unless the slaves prefer to be eaten by the orcs. :D ) It's amazing how common difficulties can engender cooperation.

Let me just say that the numbers for this game were chosen very carefully. We wanted a situation where no group could easily kill off another. Since Uruks are stronger and have far more military experience, "15" seemed about the right number in relation to 65 slaves. The same is true for the numbers within each group: uruks have the upper hand in strength and command experience just as the ex-slaves do, but neither can get along without the corresponding "lesser" folk who are present in greater numbers. We were essentially trying to set up a scenario where even the most anatagonistic folk would realize that cooperation may have some advantages over annihilation at the hands of the "others".

[Nogrod]

Orcs

Child asked me to make a list of the whole orc-refugee group. With Child's numbers in the post above it would make it like this:

"Basic" orcs

4 females:
Zagra ~36 (Undómë, major character)
Mazhg ~36 (Undómë, major character)
Ungolt 28 (Regin, minor character)
no-name ? (no player)

8 males:
Ishkur millenia old (Regin, major character)
Gwerr millenia old (Nogrod, minor character)
Colagar millenia old (no player)
Grask 9 ( Firefoot, minor character)
Zuhut 40+ (no player)
Griwzan 40+ (no player)
no-name ? (no player)
no-name ? (no player)

The Uruks

3 males:
Makdush 35 (Child, minor character)
no-name ? (no player)
no-name ? (no player)

I hope this helps you out a bit.

Just a thought on that list. The remaining male orcs that are nameless and ageless as yet should probably be adult orcs (whatever it is by orc standards 30-40-50, but probably not those millenia olds as the three in the company), just to keep the balance. But how about the nameless female? She could be anything, maybe another child-orc or something. Finders keepers? :)

[Child of the 7th Age]

Thanks so much, Nogrod. All those orcs were beginning to run together in my mind.

Folwren - Glad to see you. I've edited my post very slightly so that Athwen is standing next to Dorran, and he has beckoned both of them to come and look at the stream (though he doesn't expect her to tell him what that crazy thing is!).

[Folwren]

Sounds good.

Do you yourself have any idea of what the thing is? What is it made out of? I wanted to mention at least what it was made of - wood, stone, shell, whatever, but I didn't know what you had in mind. Tevildo may need to know. :D

-- Folwren

[Child of the 7th Age]

Good idea! I already contacted Tevildo to clue him in and have sent you a pm. Please feel free to edit your own post to be in agreement.

[Nogrod]

I'm flooding the thread again... (don't worry, I'll be having lots of busier days ahead soon, so this will calm down) :)

But. I've taken a stance on how the group of slaves is conducting itself in the end of Hadith's post. Check if you agree. I'll surely change it if you think it's a wrong perception...

Durelin: hopefully you didn't have any exact ideas about the blade Khamir threw Hadith. I have taken a liberty for Hadith to examine it...

[Durelin]

No problems at all, Nogrod. And don't worry about asking all the time...I'm sure someone will let you know if you've done anything they don't like... ;)

[Regin Hardhammer]

I deleted my save and put up a new post because it had to go afterwards.

Child, would it be possible for you to edit your post so that I've never seen your Uruk character so that my post makes sense. If not, tell me so that I can edit my post.

If it needs any other edits, please let me know.

- Regin

[Tevildo]

My save is filled. If anyone wants to comment on the brand, or has any suggestions as to what the fellowship group should do next, be my guest.....

[Child of the 7th Age]

Regin -

I've edited my initial post so that Makdush does not go up to Ishkur but waits in the bushes for the rest of the group to arrive.

Hope this helps.

Child

[Folwren]

Does everyone except for the dwarf (it was the dwarf wasn't it?) have horses in the group?

-- Folwren

[Durelin]

Most likely. They probably would have been well-outfitted on their departure. But Vrór is a rather traditional fellow. :D

I'd say go ahead and say that everyone has a horse (and Carl his pony), unless someone objects.

[Nogrod]

Child / Pio

After Makdush has challenged Ishkur, here's Gwerr's post to be placed in the thread somewhere where it sits nicely (I will be back only on Sunday evening our local time +3GMT).

Child: If you think you would like to add something or remove something from this, help yourself. I tried not to use Makdush more than was necessary - and intentionally left the post in a place wherefrom you could continue by making the last comment and then go on describing the orcs getting to sleep as we talked.


PS. I have added two new names to our orc-gallery. They are Zuhut and Griwzan, both male orcs. I update my list of orc characters up there.

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

EDIT


Nogrod's Orc list - HERE (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=479104&postcount=156)

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

Nogrod's post - Gwerr


After Ishkur had called for the group to halt, Gwerr turned to Colagar, intending to haul him over the coals for his plan once more. But then they both saw Makdush rushing to Ishkur and challenging the call for rest. They didn’t hear the heated exchange of words exactly, but the main idea was clear. The Uruk accused Ishkur and the other orcs of being lazy and incompetent. “That did it!” Gwerr yelled and grasped Colagar by the arm. “C’mon! We have some things to settle with that bully of a toddler!”

With that he ran to the quarrelling pair, calling for Zuhut and Griwzan whom he passed to join them as he went.

“Have you lost your marbles, Makdush?” Gwerr shouted to the Uruk from a couple of yards away. Colagar, Zuhut and Griwzan were tailing him. The Uruk turned to gaze at the smallish but sturdy orc. They knew each other well enough to mutually dislike each other. Gwerr took instinctively a grip from the handle of his axe and continued.

“When we were fighting at Angband you were not even conceived of! What do you think you are, you lousy maggot of a mere wizard? This is our party and I don’t have the faintest what are you doing here. But if you are to stay with us with your ruffian friends, you just shut your newborn mouth that only coos and babbles nonsense.” Gwerr had gotten really angry, inflamed by his own words. The veins in his temple swelled when he tried to cool himself down.

“Take shelter everyone! We rest now!” He called loudly to the other orcs not involved in the quarrel. But all the females were already out of the sight, taking shelter wherever the sun couldn’t extend its rays.

“You see. We rest now. You sun-lovers may run as long as you wish to.” Gwerr added in a lower tone, looking at Makdush challengingly but being somewhat calmed down already. Still he held a firm grip of his axe, and Ishkur, Colagar, Zuhut and Griwzan had all taken a hold of their weapons too. The last two male orcs had also finally realised the situation and were walking firmly towards the center of the dispute.

Makdush glanced at his fellow Uruks and nodded lightly to them, and then took a few steps back.


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

[Hilde Bracegirdle]

I have put a post up for Carl, rather a hurried one I'm afraid. If I need to make changes, please just holler at me via PM. I will be away this weekend, so any changes won't appear until Monday, at the earliest.

Have a good weekend everybody, and enjoy your stay in Mordor! ;)

[piosenniel]

Nogrod's Orc list - HERE (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=479104&postcount=156)

[Child of the 7th Age]

Save # 40 has been filled in with the post for Makdush and Gwerr. Thanks, Nogrod. Your post looks fine.

Hilde - I need to check with you on one thing. I've written you a pm. (No rush, however.)

[Durelin]

I've (kind of accidentally) come up with a slave-escapee character that I'd love to be able to use sporadically. So...now I have a(nother?) minor character. Sorry everyone for adding yet another one to worry about, but I already have plans for him... :p

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

Minor Character - Slave escapee

Name: Adnan

Age: 15

Gender: Male

Race: Haradrim

Weapons: He was recently given a knife, with a thin blade of relative length – a stabbing weapon with a rather dull sides but a sharp point.

Appearance: A good height for his age, about 5’ 6”, long and lean. Dark hair, thick and curly, it sticks both up and out on his head, with always at least a few curls hanging down in front of his eyes that he has to try and push away. His eyes are a dark, muddy brown, and his skin is approximately the same colour. He wears rough pants, and only sometimes bothers with any kind of shirt. He always ties a cloth around his upper right arm, though, to hide the brand there.

Personality: His hopes and dreams have not been fully crushed by the few years he spent as a slave. He has a desire to make himself known, to be respected by many. He has a fierce hatred for Easterlings, as both the owner of the plantation he was enslaved on and the overseer he was most often punished by were from the East. Like most Southerners, he doesn’t think much of Gondor, either, and certainly has no love for Orcs. He likes to think of himself as a loner, but hates being alone, and regrets it when he shrugs off the offer of company. Overall, it can be said that his bark is much worse than his bite.

History: Adnan was a slave for three years on a plantation after being captured with his mother and four older siblings. His father’s death and his family’s descent into utter poverty made them prime targets for the remaining slavers who did business in Mordor. He has not seen any of his family since the day they were captured.

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

EDIT: The slave group is now camped for the night.

[piosenniel]

Bringing this forward:

WRITER/CHARACTER LIST


Major Characters


A. Group Sent Out by Aragorn

Child of the 7th Age
Lindir, b.1258 Age of Trees, Noldor Elf (metal crafter, scout) Radagast (Aiwendil), istar (teacher)
Durelin – Vrór Redfist, 91 y/o Dwarf (stone mason)
piosenniel – Rog, 42 y/o male from the East & Harad
Tevildo – Dorran, 39 y/o Rohan (soldier)
Folwren – Athwen, 39, y/o, Rohan, Dorran’s wife (healer)
Hilde Bracegirdle – Carl Cotton, 50 y/o, Hobbit/Bywater (farmer)

B. Inhabitants of Mordor

ORCS - MAJOR CHARACTERS

Regin Hardhammer - Ishkur, age unknown, Orc rebel (male)
Undómë - Zagra & Mazhg, about 36 y/o, Orc rebels (sisters)

Orcs – MINOR CHARACTERS

Regin Hardhammer - Ungolt, 28 y/o, Orc, (female)
Child of the 7th Age - Makdush, 35 y/o, Uruk-hai (male)
Nogrod – Gwerr, age unknown, Orc (male)
Firefoot - Grask, age 9, (male)
~*~

SLAVE ESCAPEES - MAJOR CHARACTERS

Nogrod - Hadith (aka Apples), 18 y/o, slave escapee (male)
Durelin - Adnan, 15 y/o, slave escapee (male)
Firefoot - Johari, 31 y/o, slave escapee (female)
Novnarwen – Aedhild, 42-52 y/o slave escapee (female)

Slave Escapees – MINOR CHARACTERS

Undómë – Brenna, slave escapee, 51 y/o (female)
Tevildo – Azhar, slave escapee, 12 y/o (female)
Folwren - Kwell Dunfire, 13 y/o slave escapee, (male)
Orofaniel - Liviol, almost 20 y/o slave escapee (male)
~*~

EX-SLAVES - MAJOR CHARACTERS

Durelin – Khamir, 37 y/o ex-slave (male)
Orofaniel - Reagonn, in 20’s, ex-slave (male)
Brinniel – Shae, 25 y/o, ex-slave (female)

Ex-Slaves – MINOR CHARACTERS

Novnarwen - Eirnar, 29 y/o, ex-slave (male)
~*~

Mordor inhabitant - ??

Thinlómien (MINOR CHARACTER ONLY) - ??? - SHORT BIO ONLY NEEDED

[Durelin]

(Kinda bringing this forward, too.)

The slave group is now camped for the night.

Writers with characters in the slave group - Please do not move the time beyond that of the end of my post, though feel free to post about things going on before and during my post. Thanks!

Pio - Thank you for adding Adnan to the list. :)

[Folwren]

Are the slave's time the same as the fellowship's time? If it is, then my post is out of place, because it would now be night. If my post is out of place, let me know, and I'll move it. But I'm not sure what the fellowship is planning on doing now - whether to continue until it's too dark to go on any more, or to stay here in hopes of finding tracks in morning and better light.

I'll be around tomorrow to remove or remedy my post, but I'm leaving Monday, remember. :)

-- Folwren

[Child of the 7th Age]

Folwren,

Your post is fine. The two group don't have to be in exact time sync. But you are correct. For the fellowship, it is just turning towards evening.

_____________________

slave posters

Have fun with this....

Two slaves -- the young Azhar and Kwell--have just been kidnapped. The bounty hunters have ridden off with the two young people slung over their saddles (with the kind permission of Folwren and Tevildo). What the slaves don't know is that the bounty hunters plan to get reinforcements and come back in order to take out the entire camp. :eek:

There are a number of questions that need answering at this point.

Anyone going to take any final whacks at the slavers as they race out of camp? Please feel free to do this. You can even take down one or two. The only rule is that the kidnapped slaves can not be rescued at this point (though you're welcome to try!)
How do the slaves recover from the raid? When do they realize who is missing?
Most imporantly, are they going to risk their necks to go after these two kids? Are some of them going to argue that they should just turn tail and get out of there?
Plus, I am personally curious about what happens to that young guard who fell asleep.....

As the leader of the group, Khamir will make the final decision on whether the slaves will try and rescue the kidnapped victims or turn tail and run. But I'm sure Khamir will want to hear some opinions from the rest of the slave pack

[Undómë]

So . . . Brenna has taken a whack at one of the abductors and sliced his leg with her wickedly sharp hand scythe. Which rider it was is left vague. Your choice, Child.

Brenna's most likely knocked down and out at the moment. & obviously she would have seen who was taken, though I don't know that she knows their names.

[Hilde Bracegirdle]

Wow, the thread had grown faster that mushrooms after a rain! I will try to catch up reading it tomorrow.

Child, I got your PM and have done the needful. :D

[Nogrod]

Durelin!

Well, Hadith lost his pride, the long-knife - to a scum of a man. Hadith is not injured very badly - only bleeding heavily and feeling quite dazzled for a while, but that will cease with the the help of the ladies who know what to do...

Would you Durelin like to settle this right? It would be better than myself trying to figure it out (not believable or good gaming to set yourself a trap and then relerase yourself from it). Or surely Hadith might have lost his knife forever / for the time being... It depends a lot of the schedule we're going to meet the orcs & the fellowship etc. So act as you see fit. If something like a rescue party is set, Hadith would surely join, but without a weapon it might be tough to enlist.

And maybe [ (Fewerth) ] should be taught a lesson in way of reaching a real unity of the slaves? That could be a good narrative - making the slaves to come together?

[Nogrod]

Btw. As some of you might have seen already, I have added to the gallery of slaves after Beloan a couple of characers. That is: Khala, Cuáran and Fewerth.

Beloan seems to have come to a need: if we don't want to use Durelin's Khamir at every twist and turn we can employ Beloan. That's nice and usable. Please continue using him. He seems to be getting quite a character here, and I think it's only good. He might be killed off at a suitable moment, but at least I would be missing him... :)

As Undómë never answered to my queries about the older women (Granny Brenna in her case) to having taken care of the young orphan Hadith (mummy being called to work on another location for some years), I felt a need to come up with at least a couple of persons Hadith would know as his "tutors" or "caretakers" - which came handy at my last post... It would be nicer to have these relations with actual writers but if Undómë's not willing, then no can do. So you just get used to Khala and Cuáran. And use them as you see fit.

If our basic story stands, most of the slaves would still know each other! But now everyone is just playing for her/himself, not counting lots of possibilities / actively seeking relationships between the people from the same barracks - everyone just trying to find a way to not being involved with the major runaway and not knowing anyone else / not having any positive feelings to anyone (think of a it: a whole life hating everyone or feeling indifferent to everyone - that's not human, even in distress in like places as concentration camps etc.)

Well.
The latest one is Fewerth. That's a nasty one. One who only kind of tries to catch the apples the others will drop down... The [one] riding on the backs of others. That kind of people should be either revered or gotten done with...

I don't know whether you are timid on this one, or I am too careless, but I think we need to name people in the big group - at least when it seems hard to contact other actual players becaue a being-away or anything. Writing just solitary monologues is not good gaming from my point of view (in which I surely can be wrong - but I wrote so many of them in my last game being the one to join the company so much afterwards... and getting badly wounded very soon -so that was not so much an interaction).

So I was just wondering, why I am (almost) the only one to come up with these characters that are being involved in the groups but are not played by anyone? Am I just so poor writer who can't make a monologue or hasn't the patience to wait for another poster to answer a challenge / co-operation plan for a week or two?

[Folwren]

Hilde, Athwen is with Carl and she did address him in my last post, but I'm leaving tomorrow and will not be able to post for her again, I don't think, until Friday, so just take her back to the others when Carl returns.

Tevildo and Child, you both know that you can do whatever with Kwell. Tevildo may use him and Athwen. Athwen I don't expect too much to be done with, but if you want to, you can do something with her, I guess. But with Kwell, I expect him to be doing lots of noticeable things while he's in the clutches of these bad guys. Don't write anything for him until after tomorrow morning. The latest I'll be writing for him is about 8:00 Eastern Time, so anytime after that, he's yours - until I return Friday. :) Have fun with him.

And I think that's all. Have fun everybody while I'm gone.

-- Folwren

[Durelin]

Okay, so anyone can respond to Khamir’s question, as pretty much anyone in the vicinity could have heard it. Feel free to bite his head off if you’d like. (Yes, I am asking you to.) :D

Oh, and Child and Pio - I now know the exact dates I will be gone: August 8th - 16th. I will supposedly be returning on the 16th, but with a long flight, and a timezone changes, I doubt I'll truly be 'back.'

I will know with a little more certainty if I'll have some internet access over that absence or not in the next few days, hopefully.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Nogrod,

I wanted to get back on several questions you raised. I'm hoping my answers will be helpful not just to you but others.

First, in regard to your concerns about the character of Granny Brenna. Since I don't know the context of the discussion you had with Undómë, it's impossible to address your specific point. I would strongly urge all posters to try and hammer out such individual matters by pm. Should you not hear anything back from a poster or encounter what you feel is a problem, just let one of the game founders know and we'll try to help iron things out. It's much better to handle specific concerns about individual characters or posters by pm rather than on the general discussion thread, especially if it involves character development.

As I understand it, this is the heart of your concern:


I don't know whether you are timid on this one, or I am too careless, but I think we need to name people in the big group - at least when it seems hard to contact other actual players becaue a being-away or anything. Writing just solitary monologues is not good gaming from my point of view (in which I surely can be wrong - but I wrote so many of them in my last game being the one to join the company so much afterwards... and getting badly wounded very soon -so that was not so much an interaction).

So I was just wondering, why I am (almost) the only one to come up with these characters that are being involved in the groups but are not played by anyone? Am I just so poor writer who can't make a monologue or hasn't the patience to wait for another poster to answer a challenge / co-operation plan for a week or two?


I don't think it's your carelessness or our timidity. Rather, the whole philosophy of Downs RPGs is to give posters as much freedom as they can handle. That's especially so in Rohan, which is our intermediate forum. Yes, there are certain rules and guidelines but beyond that we encourage people to make individual decisions within those rules. Thus, if some posters want to name people in the "big group" they can do that. If others don't feel the need, that's not a requirement for them.

The only exception would be if the game founders declared that all posters must do "X" thing, or if the posters themselves decided by general consensus that everyone needs to do a certain thing a certain way. My own preference--and this is personal--is not to fill in all the blank holes near the beginning of the game. So often, later on, we require flexiblity, and it's nice to have some of those blank spaces to fill in. You've done a great job naming and identifying people, but not everyone has to do that, unless we collectively decide that's important.

Regarding the question you raised about writing isolated "monologues".... No, we certainly don't want that. But the heart of an RPG is to write true to your own character and then address or involve other actual characters in the game (not carry-alongs). RPGs and fanfictions are different. RPGs are centered on a few characters, and each speaks with a different voice. RPGs present a tiny slice of the reality that occurred at a particular time from those character's point of view. Fanfiction paints with a wider brush with only one hand controlling all the moves, and there's potentially a much wider group of characters involved.

At least that's how I see it. If other posters want to add their own thoughts to this, they are welcome to do so. And Nogrod please don't let me discourage you from continuing to name a reasonable number of characters and encouraging others to do the same, since this is something important to you. But there's nothing wrong if one poster wants to do this, and another does not.

***************

Since I'm already wearing my game founder's hat, let me mention something else. Thanks to many who've told us by pm or on the thread that they are using someone else's character with their permission. It's always good to indicate that on the discussion thread so everyone knows what you're doing.

Just a reminder. If anyone feels uncomfortable with how some other poster has used their character, you are free to send them a polite pm requesting an edit.

We're off to a good start, and Durelin and I appreciate everyone's hard work. This is not easy with three different groups doing three different things! It should pull together once we're all on the same page.

[Durelin]

Oh dear, I did forget to note this (shame on me):

Nogrod - Please let me know if how Khamir 'solved' Hadith's problem is alright with you. It can be edited at any time. Also, I'd like to have Hadith and Khamir perhaps have a little talk...maybe Hadith would like to pester him after he's gone off to sulk about the fact that they're not going to be moving for a few days? :D

[piosenniel]

Child

Rôg's made an offer of his assistance to Aiwendil. :D

~*~ Pio

[Novnarwen]

Hi everyone.

I'm am SO sorry for not having posted earlier. I came home from Italy on Saturday evening, and was only able to read through the posts before I fell asleep on the couch. Then.. on Sunday I was forced to go out of town again to watch my cousins. Apparently their nanny called in sick, and since I don't work, or supposedly don't have anything to do, it was 'natural' for me to take care of them instead. I don't have computer access here, and the only reason for why I'm posting now is because I forced my cousins to go to the library with me. It's about half an hours drive from where I'm currently at, and they will absolutely refuse to go again.. So.. I will not be able to post again until I get home, which will be in a couple of days time. Again, I'm really sorry!

I will probably make a few edits to my post when I get home (I have limited of time, and my time is up shortly). There are a few errors, I know. Aedhild is, as expected perhaps, as confused as ever... Also, I have written another post (by hand) which I will type up when I get home to be inserted somewhere. This post will explain why Aedhild believes she had a fit, rather than being knocked unconscious by Eirnar.

Again, I can't stress how sorry I am.

Thanks for your patience,
Nova

[Nogrod]

Oh dear, I did forget to note this (shame on me):

Nogrod - Please let me know if how Khamir 'solved' Hadith's problem is alright with you. It can be edited at any time. Also, I'd like to have Hadith and Khamir perhaps have a little talk...maybe Hadith would like to pester him after he's gone off to sulk about the fact that they're not going to be moving for a few days? :DThe solution is alright. I'll try to have time to write something today.

Thanks to many who've told us by pm or on the thread that they are using someone else's character with their permission. It's always good to indicate that on the discussion thread so everyone knows what you're doing.Almost all of the dialogue between Johari and Hadith has been co-written by Firefoot and myself via PM's.

And thanks Child. You have answered my concerns well enough.

[Regin Hardhammer]

My save for the orcs is filled. This was a tough post for me to write. I am a vegetarian, and it wasn't too much fun writing about roasting ponies, let alone other possible dishes that were even less palatable! Please feel free to respond to the suggestion at the end of the post.

[Nogrod]

My save for the orcs is filled. This was a tough post for me to write. I am a vegetarian, and it wasn't too much fun writing about roasting ponies, let alone other possible dishes that were even less palatable! I could imagine it! Tough thing, this writing... :)

I have addressed Ishkur's worries. Hopefully I have interpreted his condition about rightly. If not, you'll surely inform me about it.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Regin, thanks for the use of your character as we agreed (even if he is a regular orc). :p

[Child of the 7th Age]

Durelin,

You're right. We do have a slight time coordination problem on the thread between posts: the Dwarf's and Aiwendil. Could you check your pm's and see if my suggested change would work. The problem is that I have to talk to Rog first before I can even attempt to try and address your concerns about a lack of a "plan". (Even then the old man will come across as sounding very fuzzy on details but sure that the fellowship will shortly be getting some hint on what direction to go!)

I won't fill in my save till I hear from you.

Child

EDIT: Just got an answer from Durelin. Sometime tomorrow, she will edit Vror's earlier post in a way that will "straighten out" the chronology by letting Aiwendil speak with Rôg before he responds to the Dwarf. With that resolved, I'll go ahead and fill in my save.

[Novnarwen]

I caught a night train.. In other words, I'm back! :p

Okay, here is my post for Eirnar. Durelin or Pio - could you please insert this either before or after Durelin's post, spot #47? I think it would fit best there, although, I'm open for the possibility that it might not be.

Thanks in advance,

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

POSTED BY CHILD TO GAME

Novnarwen's post - Eirnar

After days of marching, Eirnar was starting to recognise a feeling he was all too familiar with; exhaustion. Having escaped from the plantations more than three years ago, he had thought and hoped that the years of slavery had vanished from his mind and that he would never have to be reminded of those years he had spent in turmoil. For a great period of time, he had indeed forgotten, or rather ignored, the marks these years had imprinted on him, but as he struggled to keep up the pace, despite his relatively young age, it was all coming back; working long days on the fields and the punishment as soon as he’d shown weakness; this heavy, dark cloud that hung over him them, also seemed to overwhelm him now. Those years could never be fully ignored, Eirnar realised bitterly, having defined who he was today. Eventually, he would be forced to accept it however, no matter how long he had tried ignoring and postponing it.

Looking around, he spotted Aedhild. She had arrived a few weeks before their departure from the caves. She had been in a terrifying state; her eyes bleary and wild with exhaustion. He had also discovered something else, which he believed had become obvious to most of the ex-slaves in due time; a fragility and a sadness he couldn’t recognise in any of the others... and madness… Oh! he still wasn’t sure. Somtimes she was like thunder itself on a sour, dreary autumn day, and other times she was completely calm. No one had been able to learn where she came from, and he doubted Aedhild knew it herself. For the last couple of days, ever since she recovered from unconsciousness, she had been silent, hardly muttering a single word to anyone. Her only question to Eirnar when she awoke had been whether it had been a fit again, “…this time it felt so different,” she had added weakly. “Yes, it was a fit… Don’t worry. You will be all right,” he had lied, biting his lip. He didn’t regret having lied to her; he feared the consequences the truth would have; would she then have a fit? Would she attack him once more? Would he be forced to strike her unconscious again? Shortly after, a man named Reagonn had asked why he had lied, obviously having overheard his reply. At first, Eirnar had been unable to answer, ashamed... but yet, not ashamed, he’d been… terrified, yes, that was it. He had indeed been terrified about this... life, what this life had done to him. “Had I really any other choice?” he’d finally asked, in truth referring to both the fact that he had struck her and then lied about it. At this, Reagonn had shrugged, waited and tapped his shoulder soft with his hand, as if in approval. No one of the others had spoken a word of the incident, and of that Eirnar was glad. Aedhild would never know the truth, and though he would and could never be proud of his actions, as hot-headed as he had been, it would be best if it remained this way.

As they approached the camp and made ready to settle in for the night, Eirnar couldn't help noticing how some of the children and the elderly were struggling. They were beyond doubt the most vulnerable. Naturally, this was to be expected. In an unknown country, where there were no obvious places they could quickly hide or take shelter, they were all easy targets for the enemy; in truth, in this landscape, they were complely lain bare for the enemy to see. It surely was insanity, and whose idea it had been in the first place, he did not know. Personally, he hadn’t been delighted by the suggestion of leaving the caves behind, he had been horrified. They had been waiting for the promised aid from Gondor, and although it had not arrived in due time, Eirnar had no doubts in his mind that King Elessar wouldn’t fail them. He had heard stories of this man, few of course, but they were enough to stun the most sceptic of men; he was a real King, who lived and breathed for his people. Both a Gondorian in flesh and heart, he had no right and would in truth be ashamed to think otherwise.

“Reagonn!” he called, breathing heavily. The dark haired man turned to face Eirnar.

“Are you all right?” he asked, slowly. “You look rather dreadful if I may be so bold to say so..” Reagonn hesitated, as if wanted to say something more.

“Heh. I’m good. No worries, though the marching does seem to bring back a lot I hoped I had forgotten…” Eirnar fell silent, not knowing how to proceed; how he hated these embarrassing moments, where he couldn’t quite find the right words or the right tone to say them in. Reagonn seemed to think the same, and being a polite, young man, he nodded in understanding.

“Makes you wonder,” Eirnar suddenly said, “who suggested this in the first place,” he continued with something that was supposed to be a laugh. Noticing himself the lack of sincerity and seeing Reagonn narrowing his eyes (whether intentionally or not, Eirnar didn’t know), he added quickly, “Oh, don’t worry. I won’t… ehm.. strike anyone...” This seemed to break the ice somehow, and Reagonn smiled faintly.

“Mhm. I first heard it from Khamir. A good man, with great dreams. A born leader.” Reagonn's pale cheeks seemed to glow for a moment, although Eirnar could might as well have imagined it.

“True. Surely, we all have dreams… I was just curious about where we were heading, where our dreams and hopes are to be fulfilled…” Eirnar said grinning.

Reagonn chuckled and turned away to prepare for the night.

***

Though the night had enclosed on them, Eirnar lay half awake. The pain of his aching limbs didn’t seem to bother him as much anymore; something quite else was on his mind.

Eirnar was not a particularly bright man, nor was he stupid either. He had observed Khamir and the others from the very beginning, but he had to admit that Khamir, especially, had caught his attention. Although he had failed to see the extraordinary leadership skills he supposedly possessed, Eirnar had observed him with interest; it seemed that the young Southron in some way had managed not only to gain trust, but the others also seemed to respect him for reasons yet unknown to Eirnar. In which situation had Khamir so clearly stood forth and thus earned this respect? How had he come to be the one deciding to leave the caves? How had he managed to convince them all to leave? The caves had been their shelter, the only safe place they had known for months and months, and now, this man, had taken them away from it. Eirnar couldn’t quite understand any of it; why the men, women and children’s eyes, when gazing upon him, were filled with such warmth; it reminded him of an admiration close to idolization. Undeserved, Eirnar concluded, he must surely have manipulated his way to their trust and respect. Painfully was also the fact that he was a Southron. Was there any of the other escapees who recognised him from the life at the plantations… as a slave…

Although, Eirnar didn’t know at this point, there was something, something which he couldn’t quite define with words yet, and so all of it would remain thoughts. For now.

***

It's been a wonderful read so far everyone. I've really enjoyed it. :D

Cheers,
Nova ;)

[Firefoot]

Save filled. That was rather fun...

[Durelin]

Here is the edited post to replace my post for Vror in Pio's post #59.

Sorry again to Pio...I tried this already, PMing her about replacing the post, and forgot to send the post with it!

Now we'll just place it on the discussion thread, so either Pio or Child can place it where it belongs.

Sorry if I held things up...

Here it is:

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

POST PLACED ~*~ PIO

A man who can converse with the birds?

Vrór, growing up under what was once the Lonely Mountain, had heard the tale of Bard on many occasions, and how the man could actually speak to and understand the thrush, though it was said that those birds could understand most speech. Now there was something the Dwarf had always wondered when told those stories – was it only the Common Tongue it could understand? But Vrór could only stare at the old man, and did not really hear a question asked. Were not men such as Bard long deceased?

“We have to reach the slaves before that gang of thugs and miscreants do, or I fear there’ll be no one left.” Vrór’s conscious return to the conversation was not a pleasant one.

He opened his mouth, but found it impossible to form words, or any sound at all. No one left? All…captured or dead? He truly felt that he would prefer death to being recaptured and forced back into chains, and that thought disturbed him to the bone. It was not natural for one to wish death on oneself. It was a horrible thing indeed that anyone would be left with two options, one worse even than being forced to leave this world in brutality and pain. Vrór certainly didn’t want to have to make that kind of choice, and right now, he did not even want to be faced with the decision of what to do next. It seemed Aiwendil had decided for them, though, and that didn’t sit too well with the Dwarf. He was sure that the old man was quite wise, but Vrór couldn’t help but thinking he was a little far off his rocker. Age could do that to you, among other things.

He waited respectfully, if a bit anxiously, for the old man to return from speaking with Rôg, who had pulled him aside. Vrór also couldn’t help but strain his ears, though he felt as guilty as a little boy peeking at his present. As soon as the two were finished, and the Haradrim ventured off on his own – something which Vrór spared a second to wonder about – immediately piped up. “But surely we can’t leave…now? We have naught but a general direction, and I…I’d be a warbler if any of you think you can track this group across Mordor, particularly when we’ve presumably got at least two different tracks on our hands. We’re no help to those slaves if we get ourselves into as deep a trouble as they, according to you, seem to be. With no offense meant to you, Master Aiwendil.”

Vrór couldn’t help but be gruff with his words. He was disturbed by this suggestion. Simply running off across Mordor was not what he had signed up for, nor did it seem rational enough to him. A headlong charge of a rescue mission wasn’t going to get them, or the slaves, anywhere, as far as he was concerned. Still, he regretted the harshness that might have been behind his words, and was glad that he had not added in any mention of a threat to give up on this Fellowship. It would have been an outright lie, anyway.

The Elf’s rather candid explanation of what the device they had found was had opened Vrór’s eyes, and though the understanding he came to of how much pain that single chunk of iron represented was a great one, he wished he had never laid his eyes on it, and for a good long moment, that he had never stepped foot in Mordor. But how could he, or anyone, abandon a being to such a fate as…that. Being branded like an animal, and treated like a disease. There was already so much sickness in this land that Vrór doubted could be healed. If they let just one more thing end as it would without intervention, they would perhaps be worse than the slavers themselves.

He felt strongly about doing good in this world, and though he rarely thought about other worlds, he was an idealist at heart. But he also felt strongly attached to the earth, particularly to rock and stone, and never let idealism whisk away his sensibilities. He desired direction, a plan, a map, a blueprint…something other than an ideal. But with an Elf and a man who could talk to birds, he doubted he would get so much as a push onto the determined path.

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

Thanks!

-Durelin

[Child of the 7th Age]

Save # 66 has been filled in. Although Lindir and Aiwendil have pulled off to the side, please feel free to continue discussing the object that Carl and Athwen found.

[Durelin]

Just as a note - I'm going to be slower with posting for a few days due to back problems (I have no clue what happened, but my back's killing me, and the computer chair is not good for it....I'd love to sit in the recliner with a laptop, but I don't have one with internet service).

I apologize, and will do my best to keep up.

[Brinniel]

Sorry about the back. I know how it feels- lately I've had back pains too (I have a lot of problems with muscle tension- I have to see a physical therapist for it). You ought to get an appointment for a massage- it really does help. :)

Anyways, I'm busy working and packing for the rest of the week, but I'm definitely going to try to get a post in before I leave on Sunday.

[Nogrod]

We have been having fun again (Firefoot and I) and the relationship between Johari and Hadith seems to be deepening dangerously... :D

My last post is now a quite direct consequence to the last posts actually written in the thread (Firefoot & Novnarwen) so those who have saves should probably check the places of their posts if they are to take the story of the slaves forwards...

Hang on with you back Durelin! Khamir surely is getting some pressure on him... ;)

[Undómë]

Save filled.

Let me know if it's alright, Pio.

~ U

[Nogrod]

Sorry if I've been flooding the thread with my own characters posts, but that has to do with my RL. I have been on vacation just on my own, but from tomorrow on that will change and so I will be having considerably less time to write in here. Because of that, I have hoped for some developent of my characters to take place in here before it (with Hadith there may be some developement but its goal surely is in the dark yet, and with Gwerr, well, at least I'm getting to know him better...).

I truly have enjoyed this so far and the story seems very good indeed!

I'll try to take part with this as I can, but I'll have lots of RL things to settle and do on the coming days - and will be away for some periods in near future.

Feel free to use my characters as you wish. I'll complain if there is something that goes totally against my preconceptions of them... but basically I'm most liberal with those things.

PS. And do not shy away to take contact with any collaboration! I'll be able to check the thread about daily and act when needed. (notwithstanding July 18th - 22nd and July 28th - August 4th)

[Child of the 7th Age]

Durelin,

I'm sorry to hear about your back. One of my own family members has a similar problem, and it's no fun!

If you need any temporary help carrying any of your characters forward (especially the Dwarf), just let me know.

[Tevildo]

Sorry to hear that Durelin.

My save for Azhar and Kwell is filled.

[Regin Hardhammer]

I just put up a save to get the Orcs heading north....this will be the same night that the slave kids who are captured. I am assuming that the Orcs could cover a lot of ground much quicker than the slaves.

Also wanted to save Happy Birthday to Durelin!

[Child of the 7th Age]

Orofaniel -

Please check your pms.

Child

EDIT: I take that back, because I can't get into your mailbox. Please fill in your save by noon tomorrow (or take it down), or let me know there's a problem. It's been over 48 hours. You need to post by Monday, as that will be the two-week mark.

[Folwren]

I am back. Tired but unwilling to go to bed - happy that this was my last week at camp, but sad, too, because it was so fun and altogether an excellent experience.

I have read your posts, Tevildo. Looks good. :D Thanks for carrying Kwell. I'll be able to take it from here.

Hilde, that post with Athwen and Carl looked fine, too.

Tomorrow, I will do my best to catch up on reading and get a post up for both of my characters, but due to work that Mom will put me to, I don't know how much I will manage to accomplish. I may not succeed in doing all that ^^ until Sunday. On second thought, it would be good if I did not write a post for Kwell until Child has filled in her save.

Durelin, I am very, very sorry about your back. My Mom has recently gone through very painful back problems, too. You'll be in my thoughts and prayers.

So long, everyone! I have other threads to check.

-- Folwren

[Hilde Bracegirdle]

Does anyone else in the "Fellowship" group want to comment on the stone Carl has found? If not, I will plan to to have a post where Carl puts it away, before the Monday deadline.

Also, the hobbit may dream of hearing goats at night, but I've begun having my own dreams...of ponies. With the posts cropping up regarding orcs and horse flesh, I'm beginning to wish that Stumps was not such a well fed creature! :p

[Durelin]

I'll see about getting a post up for both Khamir and Vror today or tomorrow. Vror shall be interested in what Carl and Athwen found; but if I don't get a post up before you'd like to move things along, then go ahead and do so.

Sorry again to everyone that I haven't gotten to post yet.

And thank you so much for your sympathy, and for the birthday wishes.

And if I don't get a post up in good enough time, then please feel free to use Vror as you wish. Just remember he's both curious about things, and reluctant to find out. :D

Thanks to everyone for bearing with me....

[Hilde Bracegirdle]

Thanks, Durelin. If it is alright with everyone then, I will post Monday for Carl, most likely an introspective post to sort of close out the discovery. I had better get cracking now, hadn't I, since not a syllable is written yet!

[Child of the 7th Age]

Folwren-

I really liked your post on the thread as well as the part you sent me in the mail with a question. I've gone ahead and added that to the game thread (that's why my tag is there). If there's any problem with that, let me know.

Hilde-

I definitely won't have Lindir or Aiwendil lead us out of camp on Monday until your post goes up.

[Folwren]

No, that's no problem, Child. I'm glad you liked it. :) I didn't exactly round it down to a good stopping point for a post because at that moment I realized that I was probably writing something you might have wanted to do, but I think I'll leave it and let you take it up from there. Does that sound alright?

-- Folwren

[Durelin]

Posts up for both Khamir and Vror.

I'm afraid with all the things going on with the slave group that they got a little twisted in my head, so I might have missed something or mixed something up. Luckily Khamir isn't the type to want to comment on everything...basically what he's done is called everyone idiots and then resigned himself to being an idiot with them. He's such a dork. :p

Oh, and Vror's kinda settled himself with leaving, so I'm all ready to move forward. :D

Sorry that took longer than it should have.

-Durelin

P.S. - The back is a little better, so I'm feeling more up to doing things (the pain made me much more sluggish than usual...which is kinda scary). Should be fine with posting from now on. I'll let everyone know if I'm stupid and do something to mess my back up again. ;)

[Brinniel]

Alright, I've finished my last post for the next two weeks. Hopefully, it doesn't read too odd (I am extremely tired and ready to go to bed) and most importantly, I hope everyone approves of what I've written (Yes?). If not, I will be sure to edit as soon as I return, since unfortunately, I will most likely have no access to computers during my trip.

[Orofaniel]

I left for a short vacation, and since the day I came back I've been caught up in work. Therefore I have not been able to read all the posts yet. I'm still on the first page on the RPG thread. (Meaning 60+ more posts to read) Anyway, I will try to finish reading today, and hopefully be able to write a post.


Oro

[Regin Hardhammer]

OK, I've filled in my save. Child asked me to get the orcs to the slavers camp, since eventually, that's where we'll all join up. :D For now, the orcs can amuse themselves by stealing donkeys and horses from the slavers. You're also welcome to any money or jewels you'll find lying around the camp. Don't get captured and don't let anyone know you're there.

Oh, yah....I wouldn't advise a fire so I guess we eat our meat raw. It's better like that anyway.

P.S. When I did this save, the slavers were still asleep. Now they are up and screaming at each other. So orcs please be careful not to get caught.

[Hilde Bracegirdle]

Hilde-

I definitely won't have Lindir or Aiwendil lead us out of camp on Monday until your post goes up.

Thanks for holding off Child. I hope to have it on board pretty early, and if not, than certainly before 1pm EST. Actually, it is coming together reasonably well.

[Novnarwen]

Durelin - Please let me know if I used your character appropriately. If not, I'll edit. (Hope you feel better and happy late birthday!)

Also, Aedhild has had a so-called "drop attack," an epileptic fit which causes all her muscles to relax at once (thus the dropping). Don't worry though; she'll gain consciousness in 30 seconds or so... :)

Cheers,
Nova :D

[Folwren]

Pio, I just placed a post on the game, but it belongs before your character, Rôg, returns. Could you move your Save possibly?

-- Folwren

[Nogrod]

I'm going to be out and away for five days.

Feel free to use Hadith and Gwerr if needed.

[piosenniel]

Folwren

It seems fine just where it is - time is a little fluid with respect to Rôg's posts. My post moves time along a little for the Fellowship only.

It seems to me that timelines are not completely in sync with respect to the various groups and won't be until we are all together.

[Firefoot]

I was going to post for Grask yesterday, and now I'm so glad I waited. :D Human children? What a phenomenon.

With the rate of posting, I'm getting a little scared of how much I'm going to have to catch up on after being away for ten days...

[Folwren]

Pio, could I write a post and have it tacked on to the end of your last post? Athwen loves horses and has worked with them a considerable amount in her past, and if she notices Rog (with the little cone thing on top) approaching his horse as nervously as he his, I think it could make a very humorous short post. May I?

-- Folwren

[Child of the 7th Age]

My save is filled: #91. Aiwendil has told Lindir what he knows. Lindir will speak to his companions tomorrow (real time) to announce where and when they are heading north......

Meanwhile, anyone is welcome to carry on and post while Lindir takes a while to make up his mind.

[piosenniel]

Folwren you can of course write a little post - just make sure you don't write for my character, please.

Here is how to make the accented 'o' --

on a PC, hold down the ALT key and then click on 0244 - when you release the ALT key, you will have the ô

[Hilde Bracegirdle]

I've heard about padding things but really! ;) I finally did notice, last night, that my last post had a duplicate paragraph tucked in there, which I have since removed. Very sorry to subject you all to such carelessness.

[Folwren]

Okay, Pio, here is that post. It actually turned out longer than I expected. Hope you don't mind.

If Rôg takes Athwen's advise and gets to know the mare, she might be nicer to him. But guys have this weird idea that if they can just show the horse who's boss the horse will not cause them any trouble, where it really helps to get their trust first and then go over who's boss. So, you decide if Rôg is going to act like a stuck up male and not take her advise and not pet the horse, or if he's going to actually pet her.

The mare seems like a pretty obstinant animal, though, so this might not do the complete trick, but Athwen can't teach somone in five minutes how to handle a horse perfectly.

-- Folwren

--

Folwren's post --- POSTED TO GAME

Athwen bent over the fire and stirred the stew with a wooden spoon. Steam rose up gently from the open pot and she extended her head just a little bit to get a whiff of the tempting scent. Very soon it would be quite ready for eating. She knocked the spoon against the rim of the pot until most of the water and broth from the stew had fallen away from it and then laid it carefully across the top.

She gathered her skirts and stood up. She looked towards Rôg and Aiwendil, who had sat for some little time together talking. Rôg was standing up now, though, and a last word passed between the two of them before he turned and walked away from camp.

Athwen’s eyes followed him. She saw immediately that he was going to where the horses were picketed for the night. She stepped away from the firelight so that she could see out into the darkness after him.

Rôg slowed his walk down to a very slow approach. From where Athwen stood, she could only see his back, but she could picture his face, and his eyes fixed steadily and warily on his horse. His body was as rigid as a pole and Athwen was inclined to laugh.

Walking quickly but quietly, she followed him and before he had touched his horse, she came to his side.

“Look, most of your problem is the either that you know next to nothing about horses or that you’re afraid of her. If you’re afraid of her, then you’re really not going to get anywhere with her because she knows it and will either take complete advantage of you or will become frightened herself. Now, look. Instead of being shy and slow and entirely too stiff, you need to loosen up a bit and get to know her and let her get to know you.”

She stepped towards the mare’s head and put out one hand towards her nose. She stopped a couple inches short and waited. The horse looked at her a moment and then after a pause stuck her nose forward and nuzzled into Athwen’s cupped hands. Finding nothing, she snorted and drew back. Athwen stepped up directly beside her and slipped her other hand underneath her cheek an fondled the head gently. She stroked the fury face and crooned soft words in the horse’s ear. After a few moments of such attention, the mare grew tired of it and shook her head. Athwen let her go and stepped back.

“Now, Rôg, she’s a gentle animal and won’t hurt you. Come up here and pet her and then once she lets you handle her head as I did, run your hands over her.” She gentle stroked the horse’s neck as she spoke, looking at Rôg all the while.

[piosenniel]

Folwren

I added a post after yours above (in post 89 on the RPG thread) - it brings us back to the fire and the stew.

:)

~*~ Pio

[Firefoot]

So I'm going to be out until the 29th. You shouldn't need to do much with Johari; carry her as needed. Grask will likely just escape quietly back to the Orc group, now that Azhar and Kwell have been put out of sight. So I guess he probably won't be needed much either... but if he's needed, don't be afraid to use him, just don't kill him. Or Johari for that matter. ;)

[Child of the 7th Age]

Thanks, Firefoot. I've sent you a pm about something in the plot line. If you're still about, let me know. If not, it can wait till after you return.

_______________________

EXCUSED ABSENCES - WEEKLY REPORT :D : Brinniel is away through July 28; Firefoot through July 29

Nogrod will hopefully be back this weekend.

______________________
The decision for the fellowship is up. If you have any immediate questions or comments for poor Lindir, post today or tomorrow and he will attempt to respond quickly. If not, I will do a time condense post that gets the entire fellowship on the trail north late tomorrow evening (real time).

[Child of the 7th Age]

Updated General Absence List, or the Joys of Summer Gaming :rolleyes:

Brinniel: July 16-28
Nogrod: July 18-22
Firefoot: July 20-29
Novnarwen: July 23-29
Nogrod: July 17-22; July 28- August 4
Child: July 30 - August 4 (should have access); August 23-28
Hilde: August 4-7
Durelin: August 8-16 (will have some access)
Folwren: August 13-28 (will have some access)
Regin: August 23-30
Tevildo: roughly the last week in August

Thinlomien: joining the game in August


If anyone has any extra dates that need to be added to this list, please let me know.

[Hilde Bracegirdle]

Brillant post for Khamir, Durelin!

[Folwren]

Brillant post for Khamir, Durelin!

I'll second that! It was excellent. :)

-- Folwren

[Durelin]

Aww, thanks Hilde, Folwren. I had fun writing that, though I was afraid I might bring Khamir a little over the top.

Sorry, Child - yes, I figured that out. I will have a (reliable) laptop with me, and all the hotels I'm staying at have net access, so I won't disappear completely. :D

[Child of the 7th Age]

I've updated our away list: #228.

Thanks Durelin and Hilde for the info.

[Folwren]

Hm. P'raps you should update it again because it appears that I will have some internet access during the two weeks I am away in August. :) I might be staying at my brother's house, and if I do, I'll have a rather fair amount and will be able to post, probably, and I will at least be able to keep up with the threads.

-- Folwren

[Child of the 7th Age]

Thanks Folwren. List updated here. (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=481183&postcount=228)

[Tevildo]

Save filled. Folwren, please let me know if I need to edit anything.

[Hilde Bracegirdle]

Carl's 'save' his been filled. Child, I hope that you don't mind the hobbit thinking of Aiwendil as a rather eccentric old man! :p If so, I will most assuredly edit.

[Folwren]

No, Tevildo, your post looked fine. The only thing that popped into my head was not something you wrote. Azhar's going on about how this could maybe be their rescuer. Kwell, who's probably tired and ready to rest up for tomorrow's fight, likely won't look up, but may give a sour-

"Maybe you're dreaming. For goodness' sake, can't you do it quietly?" And then be quiet. If you want to add that, you can, if you do not, then don't.

Who exactly do these eyes belong to?

-- Folwren

[Child of the 7th Age]

I hope that you don't mind the hobbit thinking of Aiwendil as a rather eccentric old man!

Ah, but the poor fellow is used to that! Perfectly fine.

You've given me a great set-up. I'll go ahead with the questions and answers as we discussed. But please get back to me on this thread or by pm if you see something that needs editing for Carl.

[piosenniel]

Durelin

Rôg has made an offer to Vrór - to ride with him. :)

Let me know if anything needs editing.


~*~ Pio

[Novnarwen]

I'll be away from the 23rd-29th of July (leaving tomorrow...) and will most probably not have any Internet access during that time.

Please feel free to carry my characters along.

Until then,
Nova :D

[piosenniel]

I've updated the Vacations/Away List:

HERE (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=481183&postcount=228)

[Child of the 7th Age]

Save #104 (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=481310&postcount=104) filled.

Hilde, let me know if revisions are needed. If Carl wants to say anything further, I can always paste it up in the same box.

I am going to put a save up tomorrow to get us out of camp.

_________________

Rôg, be forewarned! :D

[Orofaniel]

Pio- I won't be travelling anywhere. =P So I'll have internet access.

[Nogrod]

Back again...

Gwerr seemed easier to get back on track. I'll have to think about Hadith for a while, but I'll try to bring him also to the scene today.

Things seem to have started unfolding. Great!

[Nogrod]

A question about the slaves

How many weapons the slaves do actually possess (about how many)?

If the 15 ex-slaves would all have had four blades each as Shae had, there would almost be one for everyone! But paying heed to the beginning of the story and to the overall "believability", I can't see that as a right solution...

So is there a wealth of blades (or bows or the like) to actually distribute more evenly, or are we really having a shortage of weapons? I would think the latter option to be more realistic, but what do you think?

[Nogrod]

Durelin: As I PM'd you about my intentions, I totally forgot to inquire you about your stance on the way I used Khamir. So just please let me know if something was out of character with him...


Slaves: I seem to be filling our ranks, but well, that's my way in this kind of situation, it seems... I'll promise not to write too many characters more into our tale. But just to sum up, I have included in the slave-gallery the following personalities...


Beloan: Khamir's "right hand" (Which one hand it was that Khamir was missing? :D )

Khala and Cuáran: older ladies from the barracks, they used to take care of Hadith and any other younger people when needed. Good-hearted and streetwise of sorts. Reserved and practical. Will not come to the fore but will handle things at the down to earth manner they have on things.

Fewerth: a band leader of sorts, slimy and opportunistic thirty or something, ready to gain from any others misfortune with bullying, private trading or blackmailing.

Joshwan and Guilledean: Fewerth's "friends" or mates. The ones trying to gain the most of their patron's successes. Not trusting anyone but themselves who form a gang inside the slave-escapees.

Please use these characters as you wish with these general guidelines to begin with. Surely no one knows, what will come of them...

[Durelin]

I'd say there is both a shortage of weapons and a shortage of patience. :D

Khamir only has his knives, Shae hers, a few others would have perhaps a bow and a knife...really, it is probable that each person in the gang has more than one weapon. Whether or not they'd give up something they've learned to depend on to someone they don't particularly have the patience for is another matter.

Perhaps if this slave group was run a bit differently, there would be enough weapons for most of the able-bodied men and/or women and to have a weapon.

But whether or not anyone would realize that is different, too. The gang doesn't sit around polishing their shiny weapons all the time...or at least not very often. ;)

And how you used Khamir in your post is quite fine, Nogrod. And thanks for setting up the situation! Shall be quite interesting.

Pio - I enjoyed your post...and will enjoy responding to it!

[Tevildo]

Folwren -

Here is the revised post. (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=481187&postcount=99) The changes are the ones you suggested at the end.

Please let me know if there are any problems with this. I've sent you a pm about the eyes through the grate.

I won't post again for Azhar until I hear from you.

[Child of the 7th Age]

I've put up a save to get the fellowship out of camp and a good way along the road. If anyone needs to say something more before we leave camp, just post it on the discussion thread and I'll add it to the beginning of my save.

[Folwren]

Thanks, Tevildo, it looks good. Kwell cracks me up. Go ahead and do another post for Azhar if it so pleases you. I may or may not write one for Kwell before the fellowship gets there, so don't wait up for me.

-- Folwren