Treachery of Men Discussion/Planning Thread

[piosenniel]

This is a planning thread for Anguirel’s RPG proposal:

Only those listed below may post to the thread at present.

Anguirel - game founder/facilitator
bill_n_sam
CaptainofDespair
Celuien
Child of the 7th Age
Dimturiel
Durelin
Folwren
Fordim Hedgethistle
Garen LiLorian
Kath
Lalaith
Mithalwen
Nogrod
Noinkling
piosenniel - moderator for the game
Rune Son of Bjarne
Volo


All other posts will be deleted

[piosenniel]

Treachery of Men


Historical Background:

In the wake of the disastrous Dagor Bragollach, the Battle of Sudden Flame, Caranthir, Lord of Thargelion and son of Feanor, was driven from his realm and joined his people to those of his brothers, the hunters Amrod and Amras, maintaining a strong guard against Morgoth on Amon Ereb.

Meanwhile, the eldest of the Sons of Feanor, Maedhros, extended his friendship and welcome to the tribes of Easterlings coming over the Ered Lindon, bearing in mind the desperate need of the Noldor and Edain for more troops if the battle against Morgoth was to be won.

The Easterlings were led by two chieftains, Bor and Ulfang. Bor entered the army of Maedhros, and his people marched to the north; but Ulfang swore an oath to be Caranthir’s liegeman, and his people were given lands on the borders of the green forests of South East Beleriand. There they remained for a while in peace and contentment, and more of them traveled across the Blue Mountains, hearing of a safe refuge that could be earned for a little axe-service.

Events in the world outside took their toll, inevitably, however, and Maedhros began to draw up plans for a great Union of all the Elven-princes and the Men who followed them, to finally break Morgoth’s strength. His messengers rode with haste, cunning and care to reach the lands of his brothers and summon their forces to his side.

Caranthir in turn sent a rider to the lands of the Ulfings, haughtily bidding them assemble their full power and march north.

[piosenniel]

Links for First Age information


Chronology of the First Age (http://tolkien.cro.net/mearth/chronofa.html)

~*~

Easterlings (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Easterlings)

~*~

Houses of Bor and Ulfang (http://web.ukonline.co.uk/rwf.downing/sbor.htm)

~*~

The Wars of Beleriand (http://larsen-family.us/~1066/silbattles.html) - Battles from the Silmarillion

~*~

Nirnaeth Arnoediad (http://www.annalsofarda.dk/annals-of-arda/Battles-index-tables/Battle.htm) -- click on Battles of the 1st Age; then choose The Battle of Unnumbered Tears.

[piosenniel]

Basic Storyline:

Caranthir’s messenger arrives in the settlement of the Ulfings, seeking an audience with Ulfang, and summoning them to prepare for battle.

He does not know that Ulfang, growing in age and cunning, increasingly gives ear to his eldest, most ruthless son Uldor; a known outlaw who has been banished for slaying unarmed men and raping women, and spent long periods in the east, but has always eventually been allowed back by his doting father.

And Uldor is inclined to listen to another messenger...

Amid the intrigue and treachery, life for the Ulfing tribesmen and women goes on as usual, tinged now with the looming menace of imminent war.

[piosenniel]

The purpose of the story is to:

Assemble the Ulfing detachment so it can join the army of Caranthir as it passes by on the way north; and secretly conclude the treacherous pact with Morgoth.

[piosenniel]

Starting Location: The settlement of the Ulfings.

Likely destination: Caranthir’s camp in East Beleriand.

[piosenniel]

Timeframes:

This game begins in the Spring (@ April), 471 FA.

The Dagor Bragollach (http://www.lotrlibrary.com/agesofarda/dagorbragollach.asp) (Battle of Sudden Flame) was fought in Winter of 455 FA to Spring 456 FA.


The Nirnaeth Arnoediad (http://www.lotrlibrary.com/agesofarda/nirnaeth.asp) (Battle of Unnumbered Tears) began on Midsummer’s Day (@ June 22), 471 FA.

[piosenniel]

MAPS

The Coming of Men Into the West (http://mywebpages.comcast.net/mithrandircq/images/TheComingofMen.jpg) (from The Atlas of Middle-earth; "The First Age" - Karen Wynn Fonstad)

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Beleriand - North/South view (http://mywebpages.comcast.net/mithrandircq/images/FirstAgeNS.jpg) (from The Atlas of Middle-earth; "The First Age" - Karen Wynn Fonstad)

~*~

Beleriand - East/West view (http://mywebpages.comcast.net/mithrandircq/images/FirstAgeEW.jpg) (from The Atlas of Middle-earth; "The First Age" - Karen Wynn Fonstad)

~*~

Map of Beleriand (http://larsen-family.us/~1066/maps/beleriand.jpg) (From the Silmarillion; HarperCollins 1992 edition)

[piosenniel]

Vision for the Game

Most of the game will be within the Ulfing settlement, looking at Ulfing life, through the sceptical and opposing eyes of my Elf and Durelin's spy. I was almost going for a "War and Peace" feel here; I wanted a long section of peace where readers developed sympathy for even the unlikeliest characters followed by a quick march to war.

The fates of all the characters at the Nirnaeth, from Uldor and my Elf down to the last Ulfing or Borrim, will be covered in an epilogue compiled by everyone...if you think that's a good idea.

Uldor is a Player Character, and indeed a more important one than Ulfang. We're never told Ulfang the Black's fate; it's not even obvious that he and his contemporary Bor were at the Nirnaeth. So I decided to make him old and doddering. Uldor is the real "leader".

The characters it's hard to decide about are Ulwarth and Ulfast. They'd make interesting, but really unpleasant, characters for players. They're older than Uldor and I doubt they like him lording it over them, but they're too craven to resist.

As for the split...I originally did envisage a split between the Ulfings, but now wonder whether that would be uncanonical as there's no mention of Ulfings fighting on the Elven side after Uldor's treachery. I think, by and large, Uldor has to "persuade" most of the Ulfings. He may even dispose of some especially brave rebels.

The Borrim are there to discover, or get some inkling of, the plot, and report it back to my Elf, who will consider it and eventually, due to the esteem he's developed for the Ulfings, not believe them.

[piosenniel]

ABOUT ULFINGS & BORRIM


The vexing question of the cultural "feel" of the Ulfings and Borrim

Although these two peoples have Teutonic type names, (Ulfang, etc). they have been described by Tolkien as bow-legged, short and swart, almost Mongolian-like if I recall.

I suppose a compromise would land us somewhere in the region of Lapland...and the Borrim and Ulfings are indeed the ancestors of the Snowmen of Forechel...an easier parallel would probably be with Dunlendings. A bit swarthy and shifty but Men through and through.

-----

EDIT by Anguirel 9/30/06

More on Ulfing/Borrim names. The best example of a relatively usual Easterling name we have is Brodda. "Barbaric", resonant, uncomplex.

I would avoid the prefixes Ul- and Bor- since they seem to denote a close relationship to the Chieftain (eg Ulfang, Uldor, Bor, Borlach)- and three sons of Ulfang are quite enough in anyone's book! But perhaps sons and fathers in general can share a prefix in the same way.

Finally, a careful re-reading of "Of the Fifth Battle" reveals that the Ulfings who did not change sides in the Nirnaeth generally fled as best they could, discomfited by the lies and deceit filling their lives (paraphrase.) So this is another possible fate for those of you Ulfings who have good, but not especially brave, hearts.

[piosenniel]

CHARACTER/PLAYER LIST


*Caranthir*, Prince of the Dispossessed Noldor (*CAMEO*, end of game) – Player Needed

Lachrandir (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=491782&postcount=47), Caranthir’s Envoy - Anguirel - NO LONGER PLAYING - a proud but essentially good-hearted Noldorin Elf, impressed despite himself by what he has seen of Easterling prowess. Can’t help being condescending.

Tathren (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=495239&postcount=158), Lachrandir's Page - Mithalwen

~*~

Ulfang (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=493788&postcount=139) - (born 400 FA – 71y/o) aging Ulfing chieftain (*CAMEO*) – CaptainofDespair

Ulfang's Sons:

Uldor (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=492896&postcount=114) - (born 425 FA – 46y/o ), the new power in the land – Folwren

Ulfast (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=492810&postcount=112) - (born 428 FA – 43y/o) – Celuien - NO LONGER PLAYING

Ulwarth (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=492896&postcount=114) - (born 430 FA – 41y/o) – Folwren (Carry-along character)

~*~

*Brodda (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=496258&postcount=186)* - Easterling chieftain (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brodda) under Morgoth's rule after the war (*CAMEO*) - CaptainofDespair

~*~

Ulfings

(Should be equal numbers of men and women. Ordinary Easterlings trying to survive in a hard world. Might be established families or recent immigrants.)

1.) Grímr & family (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=491876&postcount=54) - piosenniel (Father, Mother, 2 sons old enough to soldier, 2 younger children.)

-o-

2.) Anydor (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=491607&postcount=31), male - Volo - NO LONGER PLAYING
3.) Adbrandr (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=492656&postcount=105), male - Garen LiLorian - NO LONGER PLAYING
4.) Erling (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=494492&postcount=143), male - Rune Son of Bjarne - NO LONGER PLAYING
5.) Dag (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=493104&postcount=119), male - bill_n_sam - NO LONGER PLAYING

-o-

6.) Tora (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=492395&postcount=90), female - Dimturiel
7.) Dulaan (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=492487&postcount=103), female - Noinkling
8.) Gausen/Drenda (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=492722&postcount=109), female w/son - Anguirel - NO LONGER PLAYING

~*~

Borrim Hunters

(A party from the north, these Easterlings are not made to feel entirely welcome among the others. They would never consider a pact with Morgoth.)

1.) Khandr (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=492662&postcount=106), male - Child of the 7th Age
2.) Embla (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=493389&postcount=130), female - Lalaith
3.) Hunta (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=493372&postcount=128), male with a dog - Fordim Hedgethistle - NO LONGER PLAYING
4.) Bergr (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=492713&postcount=108), male - Kath
5.) Fastarr (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=496575&postcount=197), male - Nogrod

~*~

Jord (Thuringwethil) (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=492476&postcount=100), Morgoth’s Spy - 01/06 Now being played by Gwathagor (previously by Durelin) - Has the ear of Uldor

~*~

Thorn (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=531139&postcount=582), old soothsayer - littlemanpoet

[piosenniel]

Character Description Form:


Have you posted in The Golden Perch Inn, The Green Dragon Inn, The White Horse Inn, or The Eorling Mead Hall in Rohan? – YES/NO

This is a requirement for playing in an RPG in the Shire or Rohan.
_______________________________________


For your character please include:


NAME:

AGE:

RACE:

GENDER:

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

APPEARANCE:

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

HISTORY:


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First Posts for the characters are requested for this game.


First posts would be brilliant, yes.

[piosenniel]

Anguirel - Durelin - Child

I thought perhaps that we can get our Character Bios done and Anguirel you can work up a First Post for the game.

~*~

Anguirel

When this thread opens to take on players - do you want First Posts from your players?

~*~ pio

[Durelin]

Ah, I'm excited about this!

So will we be covering the actual battle at all? I of course don't mean any great deal of fighting and sieging (it seems you're wanting to stay away from that, which I do like, even though a good battle can be great fun, too), but perhaps more of the *behind the scenes*? It's of no consequence if we are not.

I think I know what I want to do with the spy... I'll get working on the bio as soon as possible (I should have already started working on it, but it's been difficult to decide where to go with this...which is great!). I'll be playing Thuringwethil, I believe, as long as that is alright. And I will do my best to avoid vampire clichés, I promise you.

The Encyclopedia of Arda says this, and I imagine it's as credible as I'm going to find:

"Tolkien's use of vampire seems clearly influenced by its more modern associations, rather than its original Magyar meaning. In terms of the story, vampire is probably intended as a translation of an unknown Mannish name for these monsters: bat-winged, but apparently otherwise human-like in shape."

I suppose I'll have to hide her wings somehow, unless there's anything to suggest vampires might be able to shape-shift? Worse comes to worse it can always be explained that Morgoth somehow took care of that for her. I'll go with that.

I don't expect she's completely human looking all the time, even without her wings, so most likely she needs some help with illusion from Melkor anyway. :D

As for other vampire aspects...I imagine she'd still require victims? But perhaps these vampires would not necessarily require human victims at all. Would be interesting, if various herd animals and such were found dead every once in a while when she was too lazy to go out and hunt for her food...I think it would be a bit much to have people dropping dead, though. We've already got plenty of tragedy to deal with. ;)

[Child of the 7th Age]

Very happy to see this planning thread up. I am still toying with a possible character. Ang - I am going to drop you a pm tomorrow to see if if you have any preferences in this area. My schedule is tight through Monday because of the Jewish holidays. After that, it blissfully opens up as I have a "vacation" week with plenty of time to write. So my character info won't go up till then.

[piosenniel]

I'll be playing Thuringwethil, I believe, as long as that is alright.

There is one problem with playing Thuringwethil - this game takes place in 471 FA. Thuringwethil is thought to have perished in 468 FA. See HERE (http://www.glyphweb.com/arda/t/thuringwethil.html).

The key here is that she most "likely" died then when Sauron's Isle of Tol in Gaurhoth (formerly Tol Sirion (http://www.glyphweb.com/arda/m/minastirith1.html)) was destroyed.

I was thinking you could somehow include in her history section how she might have escaped being destroyed, leaving Sauron's employ when Tol in Gaurhoth fell, to rejoin Morgoth.

Also, she is most likely a Maia - so she is a spirit who can manifest whatever form she wishes. It's not really Skin-changing/Shape-shifting like the Beornings, who are Men. She chooses to manifest the form of a vampire with great wings and iron claws, especially when she is acting as a messenger and needing to fly somewhere quickly. And I'm sure if she wished she could seem as fair as needed. Or even take on a completely other sort of form.

I doubt she would need to actually 'eat/drink of' other lesser creatures to maintain her energy. But having become an evil creature, I could see her enjoying tormenting and killing whatever life forms she desired.

[Anguirel]

I would object neither Thuringwethil herself, as her death isn't explicitly mentioned by Tolkien, or failing that some kind of relation...Thuringwethil's godfather's cousin or something...

First posts would be brilliant, yes.

My character description is ready but I can't post it till Sunday night or Monday-it's on my school laptop and I'm at home.

Mith and Naria have both expressed an interest in this game. Mith is angling to be an elven page to my Envoy, a role I'm happy to create ad hoc...

Child, it would be great to have you as a Borrim hunter, if you'd like.

Very exciting, all this, and not a little alarming!

Durelin, the game proper will end with the Ulfings, and the rest of Caranthir, Amrod and Amras' armies, marching north. An epilogue will however be compiled by us all explaining what happened to all our luckless characters in the Nirnaeth. In fact I know more about my character's death at the moment than I do about his birth!

[piosenniel]

Mithalwen


Alrighty - you are listed HERE (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=491522&postcount=11) as Caranthir's Envoy's Page.

And your name is on the list of those able to post to this thread.

[piosenniel]

Naria

You are on the list to post to this thread.

Please let us know ASAP which character you will be picking up.

[Anguirel]

Volo is interested, and is after a smallish part-I would suggest perhaps an Ulfing, which is both the least high-maintenance and the most important kind of role in a way...

More on Ulfing/Borrim names. The best example of a relatively usual Easterling name we have is Brodda. "Barbaric", resonant, uncomplex.

I would avoid the prefixes Ul- and Bor- since they seem to denote a close relationship to the Chieftain (eg Ulfang, Uldor, Bor, Borlach)- and three sons of Ulfang are quite enough in anyone's book! But perhaps sons and fathers in general can share a prefix in the same way.

Finally, a careful re-reading of "Of the Fifth Battle" reveals that the Ulfings who did not change sides in the Nirnaeth generally fled as best they could, discomfited by the lies and deceit filling their lives (paraphrase.) So this is another possible fate for those of you Ulfings who have good, but not especially brave, hearts.

[Anguirel]

Celuien is interested in the role of either Ulwarth or Ulfast.

Lalaith, new to RP but certain to be good at it, judging by Werewof and general wondrousness, is tempted to launch her debut in a smallish role. The inclusion of the Borrim hunters were, incidentally, her idea...

[Child of the 7th Age]

Child, it would be great to have you as a Borrim hunter, if you'd like.

Sounds good. Please add me to the list. As I mentioned before, I'll work on it but will likely not have it up till Tuesday or Wednesday.

[piosenniel]

Lalaith

Check your PM's please.

~*~ Pio

[piosenniel]

Volo

Your name is now on the list for posting to this thread.

I've put you down as an Ulfing in the Character/Player list above, as suggested by Anguirel.

[piosenniel]

Child

You're on the Borrim hunter list. :)

[piosenniel]

Celuien

I put you on the list to post to this thread.

And put you down for Ulwarth, if that's alright.

[Durelin]

Ah, actually, I like that little twist on Thuringwethil. Perhaps she was almost destroyed then, and had to go crawling back to Morgoth... Or, she simply fled when she knew things were going to get bad.

I see "robbed of her physical form" here... Could her spirit have gone 'running back' to Morgoth, and he give her back a physical form for this project (which he would take away again if she failed, hehe)?

I thought she was a Maia, but it had been suggested otherwise...

I apologize for not knowing too much about First Age history. I have read up on the times this game is set in, and have read other parts of the Sil, but my knowledge is limited, and my ability to keep the things that I do know in a timeline is, as well. :D

My heart is not so fully set on Thuringwethil that I could not easily change the concept behind my character, so please tell me what you'd prefer as mods, Pio and Child. I'll just enjoy a sinisterly evil role, no matter the details. ;)

[piosenniel]

Personally - I'd like to read your take on Thurngwethil.

She is such a briefly mentioned character by Tolkien; I'd like to see what you might do with the 'Woman of the Secret Shadow'.

I'd also say, let's assume she was a Maia and it would be interesting to see Morgoth taking her back under his wing and grooming her to play her part in the downfall of those dratted Elves.

I can almost hear the sadistic yet seductive MWAHAHA . . . echoing from the darkened sky as she flies off on her appointed mission. :eek:

~*~ pio :D

[Durelin]

Lovely!

Yes, sadistic and seductive...Uldor had best watch out! :p

[Celuien]

And put you down for Ulwarth, if that's alright.
That's great. :)

I'll have the character description and such by Wednesday.

Glad to be on board!

[Volo]

Linked ~*~ Pio

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Volo's character

NAME: Anydor
(ok, I'm really bad with those... No wonder, my own official name is exactly thirty letters long (I have only one firstname)) But, this guy could maybe be called Anydor (or anything)

AGE: 28

GENDER: male

WEAPONS: A spear, a shortsword and a little shield.

APPEARANCE: Anydor is a person you won't notice, if he's in a crowd. He is the most average Ulfing ever. He isn't tall nor short, not stout nor thin. His face is really expressionless, which makes him somewhat intimidating, but only if you have any business to him and that doesn't happen often. His skin is dark. Anydor's eyes are nearly black and so is his hair. He is about 5.4 feet tall. He dresses in brown woolen trousers and shirt, he also has a leather jacket ovet the shirt. He doesn't have an armour, but will wear one if instructed (Anydor isn't used to deal battles, so he feels no need for an armour, he does have his shield).

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Well... Anydor knows how to fight, he isn't a master, but has practised all his life. Except fighting he isn't good at anything, carving maybe. He is a boring person nobody likes talking to a second time. Anydor does what is asked and is content with that, he is in no way bright, but isn't a person to fight first and fall first. To say something positive about Anydor, he does have great hearing, he knows most of the things happening around, but rarelly uses that information.

HISTORY: Anydor was born during a raid, his mother managed to hide and somehow ended up in Ulfang's village. Anydor doesn't have any memories of her or his father. He has lived outside and later got some respect by being a hard worker. He managed to survive to the point he could be of any use. Now he is Ulfang's personal guard, that suits Anydor fine, he isn't asked to do much, just send somebody out or give some poor beggar a lesson on respect. Nothing Anydor can't do.

Added info, just forgot, sure he has to have atleast so much information about his appearance. I'm not sure about the hight of Easterlings (but I think of 5.4 feet as a short full-grown man) or their clothes (but again, I see wool an important material for Easterlings)...


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


Volo's post

The sun was high and there was barely any wind. A rare phenomenon was happening, the guard of Ulfang's door was getting really irritated. Not that Anydor showed it. His water skin was empty, but he didn't dare leave his post: if Anydor was ordered to stand guard, he would. He thought a himself a bitter smile. It was one of those bad days: in the morning Anydor had accidentally broken one of his best knives, later he overheard from a passing man that the smith wouldn't sell anything to anybody for a reason Anydor didn't hear. And now he was standing under the burning sun longer that he should, just because the other guard, a new, carefree lad Anydor didn't know well, had somehow gotten himself free time by persuading Anydor to stand for a part of his change.

It was really crowdy in the village today, a merchant had brought something everybody wanted to see. Anydor couldn't care less. Then all of a sudden shouts were heared, some were screaming and some were cursing. In appeared that a thief was spotted and now a fight was starting, some men were gathouring around the thief. The thief, dressed in rough leather trousers and a leather jacket, he also wore a hat out of fur. He was broad even by Easterling standards, but a bit shorter than Anydor. The circle around him closened in. Anydor felt amused, this stuff didn't happen that often in a place where he could see. He even dared to stand on his toes and grin broadly. It wasn't his job to interfere with fights not concerning Ulfang or his posessions.

The thief drew a long slightly curved knife and handled it rather skillfully. The men around him backed a bit. The ones perfering violence more than others drew their knives, but before they could act the thief lunged for a gap between two confused men. He did not notice that a guard had come up behind the corner. The guard thrust his scimitar at the thief. Being a skillful fighter, the thief managed to dodge most of the blow, but still receaved a cut in his chest. He staggered few feet backwards and then ran behind the corner. The guard and some of the braver other men followed him.

Any more Anydor didn't see. The incident brightened his mood and he was thinking over the moves of the thief and what he himself would have done. While Anydor was thinking would he have done any better, a ragged dirty man walked slowly towards him. Anydor was mightly suprised when he noticed the beggar so close to him, he tossed the thoughts about the thief, losing consentration like this may be fatal. The beggar walked uncertainly towards Anydor and stopped about five feet from him.

"Please, mighty warrior, spare an old man few coins, bless you and bless the chieftain", said the beggar in a miserable voice and dropped on his knees. Anydor didn't show any response and stood with his armes crossed just like he did before. The beggar hesitated for a while and then desided to say, "My children are dying of hunger and my wife is ill. I beg you, just warrior, give this poor man a coin". Anydor lifted his eyebrow but otherwise stood still, it wasn't often that someone had the nerve to beg from him. He remembered the time when he was just a lad and begging to live aswell, he sure didn't beg from guards, especially guards of the chieftain. Something started bothering Anydor and he wanted to get rid of this fool. "Please..." groaned the beggar. And then Anydor was filled with sudden rage for some unknown reason, he quickly strode to the beggar and grabbed him by his raggs lifting him up easily, "Some nerve you've got. If you wish to have any nerve left in you for later then leave now you scum, your children can rot for all that I care". The beggar was stiff with fear eyes wide open. Anydor tossed him on the ground and laughed intimidatingly. The beggar crawled away. People were gazing at Anydor, but he didn't care. His bad mood had returned. He went back to his post and stood there for the rest of his change without any more strange things thinking only of different curses for the beggar.


-----

[piosenniel]

Volo

Please go back to the APPEARANCE section and be more descriptive.

Your character can have the quality of not standing out in a crowd, but I want to know his height, hair color, eye color, how he dresses -- so that all us players can have a clear picture of him.

~*~ Pio, game moderator

[piosenniel]

Volo

Thanks for the edit. :)

~*~ Pio

[Naria]

You are on the list to post to this thread.

Please let us know ASAP which character you will be picking up.

Thanks for having me! This should prove to be an interesting and fun game! I would like to be an Ulfing, yes i think that will suit me best. Since I wasn't sure if I was to be accepted, I thought very little of a name or character description. I will pull out my trusty pen and trustier pad of paper and begin asap. :D

[piosenniel]

Naria

Great! I've put you on the list of Ulfings

~*~ Pio

[Mithalwen]

Mith and Naria have both expressed an interest in this game. Mith is angling to be an elven page to my Envoy, a role I'm happy to create ad hoc...



Thank you!!! I shall start working on him..... if my lord has any requirements from his attendant .. let me know

[Anguirel]

Welcome on board Mith m'boy...

We have a possible loving father and son - CaptainofDespair for Ulfang and Feanor of the Peredhil for Uldor. Both of them are slightly undecided about time commitments as yet though.

CaptainofDespair, delete a PM or two - I've been trying to reply to you...

My character description will come tomorrow or tonight, but I'm still geographically sundered from it at the moment.

[Anguirel]

We have the last misbegotten brother! Folwren would like to play Ulfast.

[piosenniel]

CaptainofDespair

Feanor of the Peredhil

Folwren

I've put you on the CHARACTER/PLAYER list above and added your names to the list of posters for this thread.

[CaptainofDespair]

CaptainofDespair, delete a PM or two - I've been trying to reply to you...



I have emptied my PM box, Anguirel.

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

Cool. I told Ang... I definately need to brush up on my period knowledge. But I'll fumble along until I figure it out and everybody ought to feel free to correct any mistakes I make.

No promises as to when I can get a bio up. By Saturday seems like a plausible deadline based on my schedule...

[Folwren]

Thank you, Pio and Anguirel! I am looking forward to this game. :) I think Ulfast will be a very interesting character to write about.

A few questions concerning the character. . .

How old do you think the three brothers are? Is Uldor very young? (20's?) Is Ulfast the middle one? (I would like that, actually, but I'll see what Celuien would prefer, too) I had an interesting, vivid picture pop up in my mind this morning about my character being a man in his mid 30's, simmering with anger under his little brother's ruling thumb with his father. Haha.

I will second Fea's comment on having to brush up on the time period. I know next to nothing about it. I'll look at the links you provided. . .also, is there some chapter in the Sil. that I could read through?

I think that's all for now. Till later!

-- Folwren

[piosenniel]

See the next page for the updated CHARACTER/PLAYER LIST.

Thanks!

~*~ Pio

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

I just had the most brilliant realization that I finally get to write evil monologues. That is downright exciting.

[piosenniel]

Durelin

Was poking about on a sims site - look what I found:

Thuringwethil (http://www.simarillion.com/Thuringwethil.htm)

~*~ Pio :)

[Anguirel]

And my copy and pasted PM is now miles away after I again switch computers! Never mind, I'll write another talking about Ulfang. As for the time commitment stuff, the gist of my PM was saying that Ulfang isn't too worrying from that perspective.

My bio is coming up shortly. In the meantime, I'll answer your questions as best I can.

The best Sil chapter overall to read for this RP is probably "Of the Fifth Battle". It tells you the details of the treachery of Uldor in the Nirnaeth. Apart from that, wider readers might like to look up "Swarthy Men" and "Brodda" in the index for more of our scant information about Easterling life.

It is unknown which of Ulfang's elder sons was the eldest of the three, so if you want to be the middling, Folwren, then Ulwarth can be oldest for our purposes.

Uldor's age is unknown, but men lived briefly and intensely in warrior societies. Personally I'd imagine him in his late-twenties. It's up to all you Ulfang family players to work out your ages between you. For the purposes of this RP Ulfang needs to be old and losing his grip, but that can mean anything from 50-70...

Also, remember you might well be brothers by different mothers. But you might want to be full brothers for more intense kinstrife angst.

pio, I've done some reading and my timing for the start is a bit out. Can we start in spring, not winter, about April?

There. Now to go and grab my character description.

[Anguirel]

Linked ~*~ Pio

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Anguirel's character

NAME: Lachrandir

AGE: About five hundred years

RACE: Noldorin Elf of the House of Fëanor

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: Lachrandir carries a dirk he has forged himself with all his skill, but no sword, for he comes to the Ulfings as an envoy of his Lord and a friend to their Chieftain.

APPEARANCE: Caranthir tends, through some oddity of character, to favour those cast approximately in his own mould. Such is Lachrandir, standing tall among Elves and a giant among men at over seven feet; his black hair long, but tied securely back in a plait to keep it from his vision; his eyes shining with harsh fire. He is clad in a black tunic emblazoned with a white Star of Fëanor, like all those who serve the Seven Princes. His horse is a grey, that is, it is white.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Practical as ever, Caranthir chose Lachrandir to carry the summons of Maedhros to the Ulfing tribes for one reason only: he is the fastest rider of all Caranthir’s suite. Lachrandir has no training, or even interest, in diplomacy. His speech is haughty and brusque, but his respect once won will not be forfeited. At the time of setting out on his mission, he sees Men as little different from Dwarves-unlovely auxiliaries, but vital if the Dark Enemy of the World is to be stopped.

HISTORY: Lachrandir was one of a band of ten or so who Caranthir dominated utterly in his youth. They hunted, forged, drank, and when it came to the Kinslaying fought together. When Caranthir took the land of Thargelion as his own, Lachrandir and his fellows became indispensable to him; Elves who answered him honestly and treated politics and intrigue with contempt; competent and loyal to the bone. Caranthir dubbed them his Companions, and they are still his favoured agents, whether as envoys, bodyguards or hunters. The loss of Thargelion changed little, though three Companions were killed defending their Lord at the Bragollach.

None of the Companions have taken a wife, sustained by their fellowship of cast iron with the others. Some left sweethearts in Valinor, and Lachrandir is one of these; he abandoned a Noldorin girl of Finarfin’s house to follow Fëanor. He has not thought of her for decades.


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


FIRST POST FOR THE GAME




"Yet neither by Wolf, nor by Balrog, nor by Dragon, would Morgoth have achieved his end, but for the treachery of Men."

~~~

For the first year since the Battle of Sudden Flame, it felt as if spring had repelled the pitiless touch of the north, as if the Earthqueen’s power had pervaded Beleriand after a long estrangement. The pair of riders upon iron-grey mounts forded the rivulets off the Gelion, careered through the meadows succoured by the waters beyond its banks, and cut swift, leafy paths through copses.

Only one indication of the danger that this temporary idyll still risked could be discerned – the speed which the riders maintained. It spoke of urgency and intensity. There was something insatiable about the journey of the two Elves, as if even the spans of their lives were limited after all, as if bare months of this vitality remained to be enjoyed, raced through, swigged to their dregs. And so, as it turned out, it came to pass.

But such reflections are suitable only for melancholic lays, for sad dreamers who hope that thinking of the past and lamenting it may bring it back again. Lachrandir, Knight of the Dispossessed, formerly of Thargelion, was no dreamer; and this was not a memory of the past, rather a duty of the present. He galloped on, his eyes on his path, his hands calm and inert at his side, belying the frenetic activity that gripped the messenger and the stallion that bore him. In lieu of a saddle-bag – for his was a high-blooded beast, and he did not presume to sully it with harness and reins, instead riding bareback in the usual Elven fashion – he bore a leather haversack slung across his back; its contents, carefully arranged, did not make a sound or apparently jostle at all on the journey.

The same could not quite be said of the other rider’s burden. There was a strange symmetry about the pair of mounted travellers and their steeds; for they were much of the same stamp in colouring and feature – the Elves dark haired and long-limbed, the horses pale - but one rider and his horse were younger and smaller, with a combination of impetuosity and hesitance that called to mind apprentices before their masters. A jangle of metal now rang out from this younger Elf’s bundle.

“I told you, Tathren, to be careful with the silver,” Lachrandir hectored at him. “We’re riding to a country where nine Men in ten have never seen a coin before; a country still wild and far from tamed with law. The summons we carry is of vital importance, boy; we can’t let it go astray due to some adan thug’s excitement over a glint of...”

“Sorry,” the other said, sounding a little crestfallen.

“Never mind, boy, it’s of little importance. But don’t let it happen again, Tathren.”

Lachrandir gave a short look back at his companion before resuming his watch on the road, spurring his stallion to a slightly higher pace. He has something of his uncle about him, I suppose. He’ll learn yet, he concluded to himself.

~~~

“...Forinasmuch as thou, Ulfang, called the Black, hath been accustomed to owe liege-homage, saving thy dignity amidst the tribes, to us, Caranthir, fourth son of Fëanor, rightful lord of Thargelion but for the false disseisin of the Enemy; by this and by the ties of loyalty between thy vassals and mine, thou art bidden to provide fighting men in service, to the number of seven thousand, under thine own command or under such a proxy as it pleases thee to dispatch, to meet with our own powers and those of our youngest brothers, the Lords Amrod and Amras, on the twenty-seventh day of the month of May; this army being dispatched, under the lordship of our eldest brother Maedhros, Lord of Himring, to avenge upon the Enemy the grievous and perfidious hurts that he hath inflicted. For amongst these art listed the slaying traitorly of our sire and grandsire, the ruin of our realms in the north, and the unlawful withholding of the Silmarilli, greatest work upon Arda, that our father Fëanor crafted, and that we hath sworn, on pain of the Everlasting Darkness, to regain. So it is ordained on this, the eleventh day of April. And we hath sworn, once having raised up this great Union of Maedhros, never to abandon it, and charge thee to swear likewise.”

Such was the main part of the missive of Caranthir, which Lachrandir carried.

~~~

“Lachrandir!” Tathren cried with gladness. “I see smoke rising not far off among homesteads, surrounding a great hall, hewn of oak and ash...”

“I have seen it too, pup,” Lachrandir answered, smiling. “Do not think that my sight is so greatly shadowed by age and toil. That is the rude dwelling of Ulfang, Chieftain of the Southern Easterlings. What do you think of it, lad?”

“Well...” Tathren started, his brow creasing and lips twisting as he tried to find the words. Lachrandir laughed, and his mirth, coming from such a stern visage, was surpassingly bright and clear.

“Well, exactly. I hope you weren’t expecting much in the way of hospitality...this is no Hithlum, Tathren, and it is no Hador Goldenhead who rules it. Put all you have seen and heard of the Edain from your head! This is Easterling country,” Lachrandir murmured, his smile thin now, “and it is another state of affairs altogether.”

They paused in thought for a few moments. Tathren was the first to speak.

“Stop dawdling, Uncle! Don’t you know the summons we carry is of vital importance?”

“Mind that minstrel’s glib tongue, you,” Lachrandir replied. And I’m not your uncle either; he was a better Elf than I’ll ever be, even if he did charge me with looking after you, young wastrel.

“Very well. Race me, boy,” he added, kicking his horse into a run and charging after the tiny stockade and palisade walls that beckoned in the distance. After a short while the envoy and his page bid their steeds halt in front of the gate into the settlement. As they passed, they had seen the first Ulfings of their journey, who had stared at the towering, fair-featured strangers bearing the star of Fëanor on their tunics in curiosity mixed with no little fright. The guards, too, goggled as they shuffled the gates open. Tathren quickly assumed an air of composure, though he rode tentatively, all too aware that he, an Elf far from mature, towered almost a foot over most of the Ulfings.

In such a manner the envoys reached their journey’s conclusion, passing under the wall where the two banners, Ulfang’s claw and Fëanor’s star on their black field, shifted together in the April breeze.




-----


There we go. Oh, and Mith...one thing your page does need...a very fast horse...maybe it can be one of my stallion's colts...

[piosenniel]

Ang

I changed the start of the game to Spring (April) of 471 -- so that gives about 2 months game-time until the war starts on Midsummer's Day.

[Folwren]

I looked up our family in the Silmarillion Index and looked up where they were first mentioned. Tolkien gave the names of the sons of Bor and then gave the names of the sons of Ulfang:

The sons of Unflang the Black were Ulfast, and Ulwarth, and Uldor the accursed. . .

I would assume that he named the sons in order of oldest to youngest. If we go with that assumption, could Celuien and I switch characters? I don't absolutely have to play the middling, but I would prefer it. However, if Celuien would like to keep Ulwarth and be the middle son, I would still be happy and satisfied to let her take the part she wants. In fact, I would be more happy to have Celuien happy than for me to remove her from her prefered place as middle son.

-- Folwren

[piosenniel]

Folwren

Can you please PM Celuien about this and come to some agreement.

I don't think she was particularly attached to either of the sons; she just wanted to play one of them (I assigned her that one, in fact).

Anyway - straighten it out between the two of you and get back with what you've decided. Then I'll change it on the Character/Player List.

Thanks!

~*~ Pio

[Celuien]

No problem, Folwren. I'm happy to switch. :)

[Folwren]

Haha. Looks like we don't have to PM, Pio. Sorry for the inconveniene of filling the Planning Thread. :( I'm always confused about what to PM and what to just say on the threads. . .ah me.

Well, now it seems we're agreed. Anguirel, Pio - Celuien and I would like to switch characters. Ulfast being the oldest and Ulwarth being the middling, me playing Ulwarth and Celuien Ulfast.

Thanks!

-- Folwren

[piosenniel]

Changes have been made for the brothers - :D

~*~ Pio

[piosenniel]

Linked ~*~ Pio


Here's my Ulfing family.

For a quick reference, here they are at a glance:

Men:

Grímr 40 y/o (main character)
Falarr 19y/o
Fálki 19 y/o
Valr 13 y/o

~*~

Women:

Káta 35 y/o
Jóra 11 y/o

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Pio's character - Grímr


NAME: Grímr

AGE: 40

RACE: Eastern Man - Ulfing

GENDER: male

WEAPONS:

Small, domed hand held shield made out of spiral woven willow wicker and covered with thick ox hide; a dagger strapped to his left forearm, a small sword, 2 javelins; a lacquered composite bow made from layers of horn and sinew on a wood frame; 2 quivers of arrows holding about 30 arrows each of various kinds – short range, long range, whistling signal arrows, armor piercing with tempered tips, and incendiary. Owns a number of small, stocky horses he rides in battle.

APPEARANCE:

Height - 161 cm (5’3”); Weight - 66 kg (145 lbs); sturdily built, smoothly muscled; dark brown eyes; short, straight, black hair; no facial hair; wide face often creased with a generous smile; skin is light brown and ruddy from much time spent out of doors. Homespun grey or light brown tunics, worn over black breeches; a thick sheepskin vest; calf-high, brown, worn leather boots.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES:

The well-being of his family comes first for Grimr, then that of his village. This has at times put him at odds with his fellows; but even in the face of stiff opposition he can be very firm about his decisions. For the most part, he is an even tempered man; not given to fits of anger or over zealous enthusiasm. He does have a deep-seated sense of humor, which can at times prove an irritating trait.

HISTORY:

Grimr’s family was from the wide, grassy plains of the East, and given to the nomadic lifestyle. The raising of goats, sheep, and horses formed the hub about which his extended family prospered. At the age of twenty he married Káta, considered by him the most beautiful woman whose feet ever graced the Eastern plains. He gave her parents thirty horses as her bride-price, considering it small thing to pay for his heart’s desire.

A year later came the twins, Fálki and Falarr. Six years and a number of miscarried children and children lost to illnesses passed before his third son, Valr, was born. And Valr was followed two years later by a daughter, Jóra.

A little more than a year and a half ago, one of the elders of his family proposed that they might take up the offer of certain prominent friends from lands far to the west - that in exchange for their help in quelling certain unwanted intruders to the lands of their master, that same master would be generous with the giving of sizable portions of the land to those men who had aided him. That land, it was rumored, was much like their own home; only far more vast and rich in grasslands on which their flocks and herds would prosper.

Beneath the banner of Ulfang, the Iron Wolf, the families were gathered and had made the long, slow journey to the western plains in the lands near to the great sea. The sons of the House of Fëanor had welcomed them into the lands and it soon followed that the House of Ulfang swore allegiance to Caranthir, the fourth son of Fëanor.

At present, Grímr, and his family are living in a small village on the great plain west of the River Gelion. In addition to maintaining their flocks and crops, the Ulflings are preparing for the coming battle against the ruler in the North.

____________________


Grímr’s Family

1.) Káta, Grímr’s wife

AGE: 35

APPEARANCE/PERSONALITY: 156 cm (5’1” in) and 57 kg (126lbs); long, thick black hair worn up in a twist with a bright, wrapped head covering when out in public. Black eyes, small nose. Wears a simple midcalf, wool dress usually dark blue in color, with leggings beneath it depending on the weather; has various wool or cloth vests to wear on different occasions. Calf high, dark leather boots. Calm, quiet, easy smile. Fiercely protective of her children. She is as able a rider as her husband. And has an accurate eye when using her bow.

~*~

2.) Fálki
3.) Fastarr

Grímr’s twin sons

AGE: 19

APPEARANCE/PERSONALITY: Identical twins; slender, wiry frames. About and inch taller than their father. Dark eyed. Shoulder length black hair pulled back in a short ponytail at the napes of their necks. Are almost always seen in each other’s company. More serious in nature than their father. Since they will soon be looking to find wives and have their own families, the two young men are interested in any venture which might give them a chance to acquire land for themselves. They have fought in several small battles and have the same sorts of shields and weapons as their father has.

~*~

4.) Valr, Grímr’s youngest son

AGE: 13

APPEARANCE/PERSONALITY: 5 feet tall, very short jet black hair, black eyes; has a dreamy sort of personality; very quiet; much prefers time spent out with his dog herding the family goats or sheep to learning any fighting skills other than those needed to keep predators away from the flocks.

~*~

5.) Jóra, Grímr’s daughter

AGE: 11

APPEARANCE/PERSONALITY: 4’10”, long black hair worn in two braids with bangs. Enjoys following Valr about. She loves to talk and he indulges her with the occasional nod of the head. She also likes to know what is going on and will sneak about to listen at doors and windows.

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


piosenniel's post


‘Oh fuss and bother!’ Jóra looked quickly up at Granny Dulaan, her cheeks reddening at the old woman’s bemused look. ‘Well not you, Granny,’ she went on in way of explanation as she slid over on the long oaken bench. She fetched a soft cushion from beneath the bench and put it on the seat for Granny, patting it in invitation.

‘It’s just that I’m all thumbs this morning! I’ve managed to tangle this piece all up.’ She held up her knitting needles with as forlorn a look as she could manage on her eleven year old face. There, hanging between them, was what was supposed to be a cap for her father’s birthday. The start of a cap, that is…about twenty rows of bright red yarn; most of which were fairly even at the start, but had given up all hope in the last three or four rows. A number of the stitches were too tight, and a number too loose; the rows uneven.

Snick….snick…. The sharpening stone sang out against the arrowheads. Valr, with his thirteen years of wisdom, offered his brotherly opinion as he sat sharpening the twins’ arrows. ‘Looks like some great, old spider fell into the mead vat!’ He ducked quickly as his sister let go her ball of yarn in a quick aimed throw at his head. ‘Can’t throw either, can ya?!’ he snorted.

Before the skirmish could erupt into a full scale battle, Káta thumped on the hardwood frame of her loom with her shuttle, clearing her throat in a decisive manner. From across the large room, her black eyes sparkled with authority as she turned her face toward Valr and Jóra. ‘I like to keep a peaceful house,’ she said in a quiet voice that nonetheless was heard quite distinctly. ‘Take your little spat outdoors if you think you need to continue it.’ She sent her shuttle sliding between the loom threads. ‘Oh, and while you’re out there, we could use a few more rounds split and stacked on the woodpile.’

A duet of groans was heard as knitting and arrows were put away. Jóra stuck out her tongue at her brother as she passed near him on the way to the door. She pushed on the thick wool blanket which hung in the doorway and started to exit, then paused midstride. Ducking back inside she turned with a big grin on her face. ‘Hey! Papi and the twins are back from hunting!’ She peeked outside once more. Her muffled voice drifted back into the room. ‘Oh! And it looks like he’s brought Erling back with him.’ There were sounds of heavy footsteps as the men approached the doorway.

‘Hurry now!’ Káta said, rising up from her cushion. She smoothed down the skirt of her dress and pushed back a few stray hairs, securing them behind her ears. ‘Get the bread and cheese out from the food chest, Jóra. And you, Valr, get a big pitcher of ale from the new barrel. Just put them on the table, there, children. Granny, won’t you set out the cups, please.’

‘There you are, light of my life!’ Grimr’s voice boomed about the room as he entered. He grinned round at Granny and his two youngest children, his eyes falling at last upon his wife. ‘And haven’t your sons and I brought you a fine brace of geese and young buck to keep our bellies filled for a while. Fálki and Falarr are hanging them outside.’ He ruffled the hair of Jóra and Valr as they drew near to lean up against him. ‘Be a change from mutton, eh?’

He looked behind him, surprised not to see Erling. ‘Let the young fellows take care of our prizes, Erling,’ he called out the door. ‘Come and have a cup of ale with us!’




-----

[Naria]

Just to let Pio and Ang know, my character will be female. I will try and have her bio up by Friday at the latest.

Also I was thinking of her being in a family of some kind. Whether it be cousins or direct siblings, I just need to figure out how to work this. And one last thing, is there a link for names for Easterlings? I would like to find one that has a harsher ring to it, if possible. :)

[piosenniel]

Naria

Here's a couple of lists I used. They're Old Norse.

Old Norse Men’s names (http://www.vikinganswerlady.com/ONMensNames.shtml)

~*~

Old Norse Women’s names (http://www.vikinganswerlady.com/ONWomensNames.shtml)

~*~ Pio

[Naria]

Thanks Pio! I'll take a look right away. :)

[Celuien]

I also found this website (http://eagle.cch.kcl.ac.uk:8080/pase/) useful for Old English names.

I can't find details on Ulfast's birthdate in the Silmarillion, so I got a bit creative. I don't know how accurate this site (http://www.geocities.com/area51/corridor/8611/tolk5_1.htm) is since I don't have a copy of HoME V on hand, but it gives these birth years for the brothers:

425
Birth of Uldor the Accursed son of Ulfand

428
Ulfast son of Ulfand born

430
Ulwar son of Ulfand born
...which actually throws off the middle child theory. But, again, I don't think that timeline (since those spellings didn't stay;)) survived editing, so I used this as an age guideline and went with the working plan here for birth order - Ulfast as the oldest child. So, in my description, Ulfast was born in 425 and will be 46 years old at the time of this game's opening. (Confusing!)

Any other suggestions on this?

[piosenniel]

Here (http://www.phy.duke.edu/~trenk/elvish/noldorin/compounds.html)'s an interesting site which gives the meanings of Ulfang and sons names:

Uldor '*hideous-lord' (LR:396)
Ulfang '*hideous-beard' (LR:387,395)
Ulfast '*hideous-tangle-hair' (LR:381,396)
Ulwarth '*hideous-betrayer' (LR:396,397)

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In HoM-E V, The Lost Road and Other Writings, in "The Genealogies", here's what it says about Dad and sons:

Ulfand the Swart (Ulfang the Black) - b. 100 (400 FA)
Uldor (later called the Accursed) - b. 125 (425 FA)
Ulfast - b. 128 (428 FA)
Ulwar - b. 130 (430 FA)

The first dates are the original dates given by Tolkien.

In later Tolkien chronology, the dates would have been adjusted up by 300 years. (Adjusted dates in parentheses)

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[Anguirel]

That's clearly an older version. In the Silmarillion Uldor is the youngest of the brothers. And I'd like him to remain so for this RP.

But apart from that, the ages - though higher than I expected - aren't implausible, given that we're dealing with long-lived "patriarchs" of men.

Let's swap the brother's ages to the order Ulfast, Ulwarth, Uldor. There's a strong case that that was the newer version and it's more convenient in general.

That makes Ulfang 71 in 471 FA

Ulfast 46
Ulwarth 43
Uldor 41

At this age I expect you brothers can carry-along a harem and a horde of offspring if you want...

Dimturiel is interested in playing a woman of the Ulfings.

Oh and pio, could you slip one of those handy orange links to my character's bio on the Character List? I put it up earlier if you comb this page...I think it may have been submerged in the deluge...

[piosenniel]

Anguirel

Your character is linked.

Dimturiel is on the lists.

Please check your PM's for questions about the brothers' birth dates.

~*~ Pio

[Anguirel]

pio, I have to admit your evidence is superior to mine regarding the birth order-I was only inferring from the order in which the sons of Ulfang are listed in the Silmarillion.

If we stick to your dates then

Uldor is 46
Ulfast 43
and Ulwarth 41.

However, since I invented and put in the RP's background the idea that Uldor had been more than once banished to the east for murder and rape but ultimately allowed back, there can still be some question over a struggle for legitimacy.

Personally I still prefer Uldor being youngest but I can see the facts justify it only thinly.

Oh and one other important thing - Uldor is not yet called the Accursed; though a bad lot he is not yet known to be such by the Elves and has not yet committed his act of base treachery...

[Folwren]

I thought it would be very interesting to have the youngest brother be the 'favorite' of the father and have the other two terribly jealous of him. I mean, it wouldn't cause as much strife if he were the oldest and getting away with lording it over everyone.

-- Folwren

[Anguirel]

Well, Folwren, I agree with you, but the evidence doesn't agree with me!

pio, I referred to Uldor in the background as Ulfang's "youngest, most ruthless son"-could you adjust that to "eldest, most ruthless son"?

Finally, Folwren, if you still want the middling we'll have to swap you and Celuien again...

Oh dear. The brothers seem to be becoming interchangeable by their very nature!

[piosenniel]

Folwren

The dates of birth have to stand as they are. Since these are characters written for by Tolkien, we have to accept the background he gave them.

So:

From HoM-E V, The Lost Road and Other Writings, in "The Genealogies", here is what Tolkien wrote and Christopher edited:

Ulfand the Swart (Ulfang the Black) - b. 100 (400 FA)

Uldor (later called the Accursed) - b. 125 (425 FA)
Ulfast - b. 128 (428 FA)
Ulwar - b. 130 (430 FA)

-----

Ulfang - 71 y/o

Uldor is 46
Ulfast 43
and Ulwarth 41

As Ang says

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

Do you want to switch to the middle-brother, Ulfast?

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

So I'm oldest now?

[Folwren]

I won't argue.

And when it comes to it, I really don't care if I play the middle or youngest brother. I was mostly hesitant to play the oldest brother. . .being the oldest in the family is something I've never experienced and tend to not be able to connect with. I really have no preference now. Let's keep it as it is to avoid any more useless trouble. Celuien PMed me this morning asking me the same question and I just told her I'm happy with how things are. So, unless other people think otherwise, I can keep Ulwarth.

-- Folwren

[Anguirel]

Fea, yep, you're now the eldest.

As for your evil monologues...I'm certain you'll conjure up the malice of Iago, Edmund, Agravaine and Mordred rolled into one...

Lalaith and Child (I'm talking to you here to give my poor weary PM box a rest), I'm perfectly happy about your marital plans...!

[Folwren]

Celuien and I have settled it. We'll keep our present characters. I shall play Ulwarth, the youngest son, and Celuien Ulfast, the middling.

I'll try to start working on a character bio shortly.

-- Folwren

[Durelin]

Ah, just realized there's something that needs to be determined, and I wanted to check with you, Ang, as well as Fea on the matter.

Would Uldor have any idea who Thuringwethil is? Would he simply know her as a servant of Morgoth? Would he think her to be just a woman? Would that be how she presented herself even to him, but he would wonder if she was something else? I'm assuming she would not really use Thuringwethil as her name, but would that name be revealed to Uldor?

I'm thinking Uldor would only know that she was Morgoth's servant, and be left to wonder what he wished, just as long as it doesn't get him into trouble.

Fea and I can work this out, I'm sure, but I wanted to get the game founder's opinion, as well as any mod's. :)

And thanks for the Sims link, Pio! 'Tis quite interesting to actually see someone's take on her. I've started on her bio, though, and I must say I've strayed from such a 'classically' evil look quite a bit...for better or worse. :D

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

Durelin: I'll leave my knowledge of your identity up to you.

Everyone... My hope for posting a bio by Saturday currently seems an ambitious one. I have to revoke it in favor of a lot of apologies and "I'll have it up as soon as I can, I promise!"

[Child of the 7th Age]

Lalaith and Child (I'm talking to you here to give my poor weary PM box a rest), I'm perfectly happy about your marital plans...!

:D

That is good. I'll start working on the profiles.

[Rune Son of Bjarne]

Besides the looks, is there any other guide-lines for my character ? I don't think I saw any, but I could have missed it.

I am a bit busy these day, but I shall try to have character ready before to long.

[Valier]

Hi all!!! I am trying to figure out who I should be....I am a little confused as to what Easterlings do day to day? And what may I ask do Female Easterlings look like? Do they look like the men? Also would they be farmers, or what? I am a little unsure yet and I know I won't be able to post a bio until I am a little clearer on some things... Help!! So are all the Ulfings bad? They want to join Morgoth? and the Hunters would never join Morgoth? Sorry I know I sound like a Noob, but I know all this will come into play day to day. :D

EDIT: Ok I have been doing a little reading...So Morgoth promised the Ulfing land if they make a pact to help him? and The Borrim Hunters would never make a pact? Just want to clear this up for myself...I will be checking all the links when I have time.

[Anguirel]

Kath (via PM) has raised some of the same questions as you, Valier, and some different. I'll attempt to field you both.

I am a little confused as to what Easterlings do day to day?

The Easterlings are a normal human society. Think a bit more savage than the Rohirrim, sort of on the Dunlending level. While warriors in times of war, most men - barring the household fighters of the Chieftain - will be basically farmers. Other professions could include smiths, fletchers, furriers, maybe even some kind of skald (bard) figure.

And what may I ask do Female Easterlings look like?

Like women usually do.

Do they look like the men?

We're not talking Dwarves here! But I know you didn't mean that...yes, they'll be dark, relatively short, not conventional beauties in the way of a Luthien or Eowyn, but certainly capable of their own particular brand of beauty.

Also would they be farmers, or what?

They'd help bring in the harvest and sow, so yes. In this spring season they'll be sowing their fields. Apart from that, they'll have deep family duties. A woman's place in this RP is, quite a lot of the time, in the home. They also need to sew clothes, prepare food, and talk. Pretty pre-feminist I know! But I think it may prove an interesting opportunity for character interaction. Romance, permitted and illicit, will no doubt stir the pot as well...

So are all the Ulfings bad?

Definitely not, though some are. Few are shining examples of goodness either. Kind of in between. Or that's the idea. This RP should hopefully show the moral complexity of their apparently simple lives.

They want to join Morgoth?

At the beginning, only those closest to Uldor (and Ulfang) are plotting with Morgoth. Most are loyal to their Chieftain, Ulfang, and just want to live as best they can. As such, they'll at first respond to the call of Ulfang's overlord Caranthir. But by the end Uldor's party should secretly hold numerical sway. Those characters who want to remain true will either be killed by Uldor's party or pretend to comply and flee in the Nirnaeth.

and the Hunters would never join Morgoth?

No, they wouldn't. They're used to life up north with Maedhros and Maglor at Himring and they know the evil the Dark Lord represents. They distrust, fear and hate him.

So, I've read the thread and I think I'm right in saying that the idea is to get an idea of life in the Easterling village, both first hand from those living there and second hand from the spies within it, and then for these Easterlings to march to war, all knowing that while they are supposed to be helping Caranthir they are actually going to help Morgoth. Yes?

Yes. But some "good" Ulfings may resist or flee when it comes to the battle (such actions will be described in the epilogue).

Anyway, the role that caught my eye was that of the Borrim hunter. How vociferous are these people in their decision never to help Morgoth?

They're determined, but not exactly vociferous, being quite taciturn and sullen men. They won't be traitors like the Ulfings, though.

Do they attract attention or are they ignored because they are outsiders and no one would listen to them?

Their ultimate role is to warn my character Lachrandir of a plot they suspect, urging him to report it to Caranthir. He will think it over and eventually dismiss it as nothing. Typical Noldorin hubris, maybe...

Plus in one of your links it says this:

In the 5th Battle of Beleriand the tribe of Bor fought with the Noldor, and most perished.

So does that mean that at some point the Borrim would split off from the Easterling group (I was assuming Ulfings and Borrims alike went together) knowing of their treachery?

Uldor's partisans won't trust the Borrim, knowing their loyalty, and won't let them into the plot. The Borrim will discover a hint of it anyway. At the end, the Borrim will march north with the rest, but with genuinely good intentions and foreboding in their hearts...

There. That's about it...do keep on questioning if you don't understand something...

PS

I have been doing a little reading...So Morgoth promised the Ulfings land if they make a pact to help him? and The Borrim Hunters would never make a pact?

Yes, that's right. Except think of it this way - Morgoth (via Thuringwethil) bribes Uldor with prospects of rewards and power; Uldor promises the Ulfings more land if they follow him into treachery.

There should maybe be an undercurrent of the Ulfings finding the land they hold under Caranthir not quite expansive enough for their numbers. After all, there are a lot of them...I'd say an army of 5000 would be quite a conservative guess for their fighting numbers.

[piosenniel]

Kath n' Valier's FAQs


Is Kath playing? Shall I put her name on the list for those in the game?

~*~ Pio

[Naria]

A woman's place in this RP is, quite a lot of the time, in the home. They also need to sew clothes, prepare food, and talk. Pretty pre-feminist I know!

Ang, if this is the case, what purpose is there to have female players in this rpg? Are we here for "fillers"? And since they are understandably pre-feminist, I wouldn't think that any of the women would be allowed to go into battle. So at that point in the rpg, what are we supposed to do with our female characters? Besides talking to our four lil' walls of our home :p :D . I understand that we can converse with other characters, but that will only be so entertaining and then what?

(I bolded the first question because that is my main query)

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

oooooooo -- one of those Borrim Hunters looks SO interesting and so terribly terribly tempting.

If you say that there could be a Borrim Hunter with a companion dog, one who has an above dog-average capacity for understanding and communication (without actually talking)...well....

[piosenniel]

If you say that there could be a Borrim Hunter with a companion dog, one who has an above dog-average capacity for understanding and communication (without actually talking)...well....

Nothing like read a post too quickly . . . I thought for a moment you wanted to play a Borrim Hunter with an above dog-average capacity for understanding and communication. And that perhaps he was the strong, silent type - with regard to the '(without actually talking)" part.

Upon re-reading I understand you meant the dog . . . :p

~*~ Pio


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Fordim and Kath - I've put you both on the list to post to this thread.

[Durelin]

Ang, if this is the case, what purpose is there to have female players in this rpg?

I'm going to be extremely nit-picky and point out first that the fact that the player is female does not mean the character has to be. I play more male characters than female ones, and I am undoubtedly female. Though I expect that's not precisely what you meant.

I'd also like to point out what Ang has been saying about the focus of this game. It's not on the action. It's not on any particular actiony action. It's focused on everyday life for the Ulfings as such dark things work both within and around them (I mean really dark...we're talking about Melkor here), things that are out of their control. So, the main focus is essentially at the home. And if you think this sounds boring to roleplay, well...I think you're missing out! :)

Sorry for stepping in. Listen to Ang...I just like to act like I know what I'm doing. ;)

Fordim -

Yes....join us...it is...necessary...what you...desire... *attempts to Jedi mind trick you* :p

[Celuien]

I was going to have the description tonight, but it's going to take a little longer...it will be finished as soon as possible though. Definitely by the weekend.

[Folwren]

My description is not coming on as quickly as I hoped either. Hopefully, it will be done this weekend, too.

[piosenniel]

Character/Player list moved to next page

~*~ Pio

[Anguirel]

Right. I thought there'd be a bit of annoyance at lack of female swashbuckling. I didn't put it very well.

When the men march off, the women can probably follow them to the camp in East Beleriand before bidding them farewell. (Thuringwethil maybe among the said women!) After that, we cut to the epilogue, where there'll be plenty to describe - how they coped if their husbands were killed, their grim new life in the confines of Hithlum where Morgoth resettled them, who and if they married if they started single, all up to you.

I honestly think playing a female Ulfing is going to be more rewarding than it looks. It's like I said, War and Peace, War and Peace. Natasha didn't wield a sword! Neither did Anna Karenina or Elizabeth Bennet or Becky Sharp. But does it make them less great characters?

If you're still uncertain, perhaps you'd like to play a male and a female Ulfing, as pio is doing.

EDIT: pio, yes, do put Kath on the thread as another of the Borrim. We can always take her off if she has second thoughts.

[Kath]

Uh, thanks pio, and yes I would like to join, I just wanted to get an idea of what the Borrim were first.

Ang, one last question (well for now, there will probably be more). The Borrim march to war even knowing, or at least suspecting, about this plot?

EDIT: Thought of another one already. Do the Borrim have families with them? Or are they still living in the north?

[Anguirel]

Yep, the Borrim suspect something, but aren't believed.

About their families...most of you Borrim are just hunters coming down from the north because the hunting is more plentiful in the south. Child of the 7th Age and Lalaith though have decided to play an envoy from Bor to Ulfang and the envoy's wife, settling matters between the two tribes.

So, in short, usually Borrim characters should be on their own without families but I have allowed an exception for Child and Lalaith.

Again leaving apart that exception, I'd rather Borrim characters were male.

[Kath]

That's fine, just wondered.

But even if they aren't believed why would they march? Just because no one else will take their word for it wouldn't mean they distrust themselves.

[Anguirel]

Well, their attitude isn't "The Ulfings are probably going to be treacherous, therefore we're going to lose the battle, therefore we're all going to die, therefore we should stay away."

Instead, they heroically think

"The Ulfings are probably going to be treacherous, so our lords Maedhros and Maglor are in trouble, so we've got to be there to protect them."

Sam distrusts Gollum, but he still goes with him to protect Frodo. It's that kind of idea.

[Kath]

Ahhh! Yes that makes sense, cheers Ang.

[Dimturiel]

I 'm sorry not to have posted earlier, I've had quite a busy week. Anyway here is my character:

Linked ~*~ Pio

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

Dimturiel's character

NAME:Tora

AGE:19

RACE:man

GENDER:female

WEAPONS: She carries a knife, for none knows what may happen in these hard times, but she has never used it so far.

APPEARANCE: She is short and rather stoutly built. Her long dark hair is brown and tangled. She usually wears it loose, although she sometimes ties it in a plait. Usually she wears a brown woolen dress, but she also has a more elegant blue one for special occasions. She seldom smiles and has a rather preocupied expresion.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: She has a very realistic view of her people's situation. She knows life is hard, and she does not waste her time dreaming about how it would be, were it to improve. She knows there is little hope in that. She is hard working,and quite intelligent. She is always ready to help those that need her. She tends to be harsh sometimes.

HISTORY: She is the middle child of a family of four others and the only daughter. She has an older brother, aged 22, who has now a family of his own, and two younger ones, one of 12 years of age, the other of five. Her father owns a small farm. Her family is not too wealthy, but has enough to survive. Her father thinks of marrying her to the son of a more prosperous farmer, but she is not too happy about this. There had been a young man of her age whom she had liked, but he was killed two years before by a wild beast.


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


Dimturiel's post

The morning dawned clear and cold. it was a typical spring morning as many others had been before it. Tora was walking through the village. She did not have much to do that morning, so she had decided to go for a walk. She loved being out in the cool spring air, alone with her thoughts. There was little time for thinking when she had two younger brothers to take care of, not to mention her elder brother, who required her help with his small child. She usually spent the time working. yet she did not complain. She usually prefered to have something to keep her busy.

Tora found a spot that was warmed by the morning sun, and sat down on the grass. She looked around thoughtfully. Memories linked her to that place, memories of feelings that she had found hard to understand then. Yet they had ended, as abruptly as they had started. But what could she do about it? It had not been her fault, nor his. If anyone was to blame, it was fate. How convenient, she thought, that the notion of a power greater than themselves existed. It was so easy to blame their troubles on it, and to think that things could not be better, simply because that power did not want them to be. It made people feel better, comforted even, in a strangve sort of way.

So her lover had been dead for over two years now, and her father was now planning to give her to someone else, someone she had never spoken to before. What was the use of complaining about that? It would not have changed the situation. It would not have turned back time. And she was sure she was not the only person in the world to whom such things had happened. That had been plenty of others that had lived the same tale that she had. Yet the world had not ciesed moving because of them. Life and time had gone on, ignoring such happenings, that seemed of little concern to those who were not involved in them.

Tora got up abruptly. She had better return home, she thought. Her mother might need her. And so, she turned her back to her past, and retraced her steps to the village.





-----

[Valier]

I'm sorry to have to say this, but I must take myself off the list. I just don't think I have time to commit fully to this RPG. Sorry about that. I will however read as the story progresses along. Good luck to all. :D

-------

EDIT

Have taken you off the list, Valier.

~*~ Pio

[Anguirel]

I'm afraid Naria's also pulled out. We're in something of an Ulfing crisis...

[Volo]

Umm... What is that POST NEEDED thing. Does it mean that I have to write something before the game can start?

[Child of the 7th Age]

Volo -

Before the official game opens, we will all have to submit a first post for our characters.

However, before we can do that, Ang will need to complete a first post for Lachrandir, which hasn't been done yet. Also, normally the founder makes suggestions what the general subject of your first post should be. You can think about possible approaches for your first post now, but nothing will be nailed or written down until later.

Pio's has a list of who still needs profiles and posts so everything will be crystal clear, but the first post isn't due immediately. (It better not be. I'm still working on my profile! :rolleyes: ) This is still a planning rather than a discussion thread.


__________________

Ang -

Volo's question is a good one. Have you thought any on how the game will open up and what are first posts are likely to focus on?

P.S. Pio and I cross posted!

[piosenniel]

Yes, Volo - all the players will be writing first posts for the game. Anguirel will then read through all of them and arrange them in the order he wants for the game.

You'll need to put your First Post in the same box as your Character Description. I'm going through players' character bio post boxes now and editing in where you will put your first post for your character.

You can wait until Anguirel posts his First Post for the game, and perhaps he will give some direction about what the Ulfings might start with for their first posts.

~*~ Pio

[Mithalwen]

I should be able to post my bio soon - ie at the weekend. I can see him "as through a glass darkly" but he is getting clearer - I just need to mug up a few things for his history and find him a suitable name. :)

[Anguirel]

My first post should be done by Saturday.

The first posts for Ulfings should probably centre around routine life in their settlement being a bit interrupted by the news of the Envoy's arrival; the Borrim could be, say, returning from a hunt, or likewise milling around.

The cameos don't need first posts.

Thuringwethil's should be subtly terrifying and I'm sure the brothers can offer some brilliant evil monologues.

pio, I have decided to play, in addition to Lachrandir, a female Ulfing.

Finally, I'll just note that Caranthir appears only at the end of the RP and so we don't necessarily have to find a player for him for a long time. (I remember Child was recruited very successfully towards the end of Sirannon.)

[piosenniel]

OK - Ang I've put you on the Ulfing list.

Thanks for the First Post directions.

~*~ Pio

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

My character's dog is big and reddish-gold in colour. Her name is Laylah. More to follow.

[Durelin]

Okay, here's my version of Thuringwethil...I am completely open to any suggestions for changes, and I do hope everything sounds plausible (and the is correct). Also, I apologize it's rather long...particularly sorry about the appearance dragging on like that...

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Have you posted in The Golden Perch Inn, The Green Dragon Inn, The White Horse Inn, or The Eorling Mead Hall in Rohan? – YES

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Durelin's character


Name: Thuringwethil, or Jord as she is known to the Ulfings who must know her
Age: NA
Race: Maia
Gender: Female (typical form/association)

Weapons: Her cunning, her persuasiveness, the being whom she answers to, and more primitive ones when need be: a slender, straight bladed dagger, easily concealed; and poison.

Appearance: Always bent on her purpose – whatever it may be, as ordered by Sauron or now, Morgoth himself – and seeing it as an opportunity to start anew, Thuringwethil was glad to take on a new form with the help of her master. He shaped it for her with the beauty of Luthien in mind, most likely in an attempt to painfully remind her of the failure Sauron met at Tol-in-Gaurhoth. She was gifted with smooth skin of creamy colour, with a hint of soft brown; dark brown hair, naturally in soft, neat curls; and deep olive eyes – also almost brown, but with enough of a hint of green to keep one from describing it as simply brown. Standing at about five feet, four inches, she is short and slightly willowy, with long legs, particularly for her height. She has prominent yet soft feminine curves that she never intends to hide or try to disguise in the least, long eyelashes, thin but not short eyebrows, a small, pretty and well-proportioned but slightly pointed nose, full lips normally in a tight smirk, high but not rigid cheekbones, and a well-defined but not large chin. Overall, her face is an ageless one, which looks young at first glance, much older at second, and sometime unknown at third. Her hair hangs almost to her elbows. She normally wears long dresses of sober colours: dark greens, reds, blues, and blacks, and made of thin, clinging materials, with a small train. She will sometimes wear a black shawl of semi-transparent material.

Personality: With innumerable years of experience and wisdom, and an ability to exist separate of the body she has taken the form of, the Woman of the Secret Shadow is a million things at once. She is unpredictable in her behavior, and a master at wearing as many masks as she pleases. When she wishes to maintain a certain type of appearance, she will do so with nearest perfection. At times she can be careless because of a natural arrogance, something servants of Melkor struggle with possibly even more so than any simple mortal ruler. She is the ultimate manipulator, in touch with the desire of men down to their darkest, most basic and animalistic selves, but also full of thousands of years of insight into the mind of beings of Middle-earth, having an idea of what each of their creators’ minds are like. Thuringwethil enjoys her work, and takes pleasure in tormenting minds even more than tormenting bodies. With her newest form, she has found a new way to do so, using the shell as one fully aware of how beings mortal and immortal alike find it attractive. She can work with the patience that only a Maiar or Valar or an Ent could ever hope to have, but can also find herself rushing with anticipation and eagerness. Rarely does she cease to be meticulous in her work, though. Everything she does has layers upon layers of motives, and she greatly dislikes feeling that she has wasted even a moment of her time.

Her love of manipulation and duplicity made her a fine servant to Sauron the Deceiver, and she has perfected her treacherous ways thanks to him, and she was and still is fiercely loyal to him. Her loyalty to Sauron always made her fairly closely connected to Melkor, as her master’s master is her master, but now she is even more attached to the Dark Lord. She will do anything for her masters, and their goal is her goal. Thuringwethil is especially glad to perform her current duties, as she can enjoy her work, relishing in playing multiple personalities, and is exuberant that she has been given another chance. She finds her human body to be amusing, and so experiments with using it to her advantage. Her dresses, though they seem to be of similar cut, all hang differently, accentuating different parts of her body. At the same time, she both loves and hates the body: she is overjoyed that Melkor has enabled her to regain a physical form and thus a real presence in the world, but she despises its resemblance to the Elven beauties that both Elves and Men swoon over and write poetry about. As with most with power, and really most beings in general, she desires to be known. She prefers to be a much greater presence than any normal being would even be able to fathom, and this also tends to contribute to the ferocity with which she performs and indulges in her duties.

History: Formed among many of the spirit of Ilúvatar, Thuringwethil is a Maia, a lesser power, though still powerful, that chose to dwell in Arda, normally taking on the appearance of either a woman, a bat, or some mix of the two. She was one of those tempted by Melkor’s dreams of personal power, and wanted a share for herself. They were powerful things, mortal Men even mistaking them for ‘gods.’ Why shouldn’t they have power? Even among the Maiar, the Woman of the Secret Shadow is lesser, and so became a servant to a more powerful Maia, Sauron, who is considered the most powerful of Melkor’s servants. At first she was unhappy to find herself under the command of another Maia, but she quickly came to respect her master where others came to fear him. Morgoth quickly became an extremely powerful force in Middle-earth, and he and his servants were constantly on the move. But when Sauron’s fortress of Tol-in-Gaurhoth was destroyed, and Thuringwethil herself by mischance became the source of Luthien’s disguise, she was devastated, and all but destroyed along with the tower. She lost her physical form, and lost the ability for a time to take on a form. But Melkor found both her and her master, and though they feared the Vala’s wrath, they were both glad that he did not abandon his loyal servants. Morgoth formed Thuringwethil a new body in which she could do his bidding, and he began other plans with Sauron, which she does not know of and would never think of inquiring about. With most of her strength regained, she is able to take multiple forms again, though it is a little more difficult and she may not be as fickle about her choices as she once was.

Sent to the East to sow further seeds of darkness, from which new allegiances would grow, and sent also for a treacherous purpose which would insure the destruction of one of the dark powers’ greatest enemies: the Children of Ilúvatar, Elves as they were known in Middle-earth. Men were weaker in some respects, and Morgoth knew that the peoples of the East would be quite susceptible to his persuasion, considering their greed, and the arrogance with which the Elves tended to approach them. He knew that there was already plenty of unrest that could be used to his advantage, particularly among the Ulfang tribe, though already certain of his plans and that he had already all but received the Easterlings’ allegiance, Thuringwethil was sent to execute his plans, and work from among the Ulfings to bring his treachery to fruition. Luckily for she and her master, they had only an old king to deal with, and a son with a heart near black enough to fit Melkor himself to help them.

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


Durelin's post

Passing in front of a mirror in her temporary bedchamber, which the King Ulfang had so “graciously” presented to her for her services (services he had never received but which his son had, who might as well be seated in the old man’s throne), Thuringwethil, Women of the Secret Shadow, shuddered, she herself a mirror to her soul as a ripple of disgust passed through it. What was this horrible body?

Her bones themselves dripped with a deep hatred for the creatures called ‘Men,’ but even more so for the Children of Ilúvatar: silly children who could not even play nicely with their friends, which had made it all too easy for Morgoth to bring the little Ulfing king to his knees. Thankfully the dark powers which she served would use these beings and then dispose of them. Thuringwethil felt she might just have to hang around long enough to see that disposal, but not if it meant remaining in this body for any longer than was necessary. To think that now she, Woman of the Secret Shadow and faithful servant to Sauron, acting often as his voice itself, was now something Men low and base could admire with hungry eyes that say prey within read. She had not been the one to fail! O, but her poor master…

She had to endure one man in particular, though his simple ways could sometimes amuse her. Uldor really though he had power, that he was manipulating, that he was triumphing and would show everyone, even the Dark Lord himself, what he was made of. But Thuringwethil already knew, which her master knew even better – he was but flesh and bone and warm, thin blood. As soon as that blood went cold, he would pass into the dirt, and men to come would leave their bold footprints in him, forgetting that they too would join him sooner rather than later. For beings like her, these lives were blinked away, if they could be called ‘lives.’

War was coming, and she shook with excitement because of it. She would be the one to secure the victory, and Morgoth would not be able to forget it. When Sauron rose again she would undoubtedly be allowed to join her Lord again, and she would have the strength to be rid of this body forever. Then she could take on forms that were more pleasing to her master as well as to her. Maybe she would be rid of this mocking body that locked her in a fleshy prison before the battle began, and she would finally be able to feel the blood of those Elves – those pitiful fools who mourned the loss of that harlot, Luthien, who would bind herself to a being of an even lower race – on a skin she chose.

But alas, she knew her work would not be done until well into the bloodshed, for the treachery ran deep, and the Woman of the Secret Shadow would not dream of abandoning her work. Once the lies had seeped in, and as long as the boy who played with being puppet master danced to her tune, the Dark One’s victory was secure. Doubtless Uldor would see it her way without too much trouble: planting ideas in a mind so malleable in tainted hands was too simple.

Who Thuringwethil had to step more lightly around, though, were the men not mired in a sickness of the mind like their leaders were, and that was many of the Ulfing people, so clueless and innocent. If they ever did catch some sort of clue, they could be a risk. Such things as war and alliances were beyond those simple folk, left for the hearts of lords and kings, predisposed to disease and corruption. Rumours, even whispers, spreading fear and doubt were pleasing to her as long as they did not involve her. Remaining in the shadows was the way it had to be done, and it was the way in which she was accustomed to working.

She knew how the minds of men worked – deceit was not something done in the light of day: it was done in the dark when the eyes could not see what the hands were doing. That was the beauty of it, and what made it the sweetest perfection of a business for Thuringwethil to use to her liking. There was no way she could fail: the treachery of men was on her side.

___________________________________

A note on her alias - I was going to go with Tyra, but I might change it because Dimturiel's 'Tora' is a bit too close... Not that it matters, I suppose, but I wasn't completely sold on Tyra anyway... :D


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

EDIT

Linked your post to the Character/Player list ~*~ Pio

Edit by Durelin: I changed her alias to "Jord." (Means "Daughter of Night," supposedly...so seems fitting.)

[Anguirel]

Durelin, I'm in love aready. Luckily my character is more oblivious to such charms than I...

Noinkling wishes to play an Ulfing woman in her late forties.

[piosenniel]

Noinkling

You're on the list to post to this thread.

~*~ Pio

[Noinkling]

Here’s my character. Hope she's satisfactory.

I’ve upped her age so that she can be contemporary with piosenniel’s character’s (Kata’s) mother. Piosenniel has kindly agreed my character can be attached to her family group.

Linked ~*~ Pio
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Noinkling's character

NAME: Dulaan

AGE: 58

RACE: Ulfanger

GENDER: Female

WEAPONS: None, really. Does have a larch heartwood walking stick with an iron tip on one end and a fist sized ball of petrified wood from the mountains round her birth area; iron shears she uses for taking the wool from her sheep; several pairs of pine wood knitting needles. She always has a pair of these along with a ball of yarn tucked in the thick cloth pouch she has always at hand.

APPEARANCE: In a nutshell: crone-like.

In her prime she was most likely about 5 ft tall. Now shrunken with age and a bit bent over she’s about 4 ft 9 inches. Thin, with the sort of loose skin typical of an elderly female who’s lost muscle mass and body fat. What was once dark hair is now turned quite grey and worn in a thin plait to her waist. Wizened round face, prominent chin as she’s lost many of her teeth and her mouth tends to fall in against her gums. Dark eyes, a bit cloudy, rheumy from age. Ears are sharp enough, but she likes to pretend she is slightly hard of hearing. Wears mid thigh wool dresses in dark colors – usually blue. Scuffed up, softened by age, leather boots. Woolen leg wrappings. Has a thick, dark blue with dark red borders cloak she usually wears.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: She has seen a lot of good and bad times in her long life and has learned to let events roll off her as does water from a duck’s back. Basically happy person, laughs easily, smiles readily Does tend to have certain ideas about how ‘things’ should be done and will voice her opinion as she sees fit. Likes to stay close to the home-fire and keep her old bones warm.

HISTORY: She is a cousin of Kata’s mother. (Kata is piosenniel’s main character’s wife)

Dulaan’s immediate family are all dead. Husband and two sons killed in skirmishes long ago in the far Eastern lands. She had no daughters and considers herself a sort of second-mother to Kata. She has been taken in by Grimr and Kata as a part of their family. And is called Granny Dulaan by their children. Her tiny little flock of sheep and two goats run with theirs.


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Noinkling's post


‘Kata! Kata, are you there?’ Dulaan stood blinking in the dimmer light of Kata’s house. She stepped further in, letting thick wool blankets which covered the entry way to fall back into place behind her. The old women thumped her walking stick a few times on the rug covered floor of the dwelling, a muffled sound at best. ‘I let the goats and sheep out into the side pasture. Is there something hot to drink, something to warm an old woman’s bones?’

The room was coming more into view as her rheumy eyes adjusted to the small light of the fire and the shadows which it threw about the homey interior. She tapped her stick lightly against one of the carved wood benches and smiled down at the child who sat there.

‘Slide over, won’t you sweeting? Let Granny rest a bit by the fire.’



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[piosenniel]

Garen LiLorian has asked to join the game.

Garen - your name is on the list to post to this thread. Come say hello and put your Character Bio on when you get it ready.

~*~ Pio :)

[Garen LiLorian]

Hello everybody. Here's a rough character sketch, that may or may not work very well. It may be a bit modern. *shrug* Oh well. It was fun to think about. Please let me know if and how it needs to be changed.

Linked ~*~ Pio
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Garen LiLorian's character


NAME: Adbrandr

AGE: 22

RACE: Ulfing

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: Adbrandr's weapon is usually rhetoric, but he has the strength of his beliefs and so occasionally wields a dagger or a torch as becomes neccessary. In a real fight, he would use the same short spears and shield as the other Easterling warriors, though he is not trained with them beyond a basic proficiency.

APPEARANCE: Adbrandr is taller then average for an Easterling, (say 5'5" or so) straight limbed and beautiful. His eyes (which are blue) are fiery and passionate. His skin is fair (for an Easterling) and his hair is long, black, and tied in a ponytail. For an Easterling, he is slender and not very strong. He wears typical peasant clothes, though his family can afford better, to show his devotion to the working man.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Adbrantr is a political activist. Though a man in the prime of life for an Easterling, he is not married, continues to live with his parents and doesn't work or own property. Instead, he devotes his entire attention to his political agenda. He is a student (insofar as it is possible) who has decided that the Ulfings would be much better off allied with the Enemy. He is happy giving incendiary speeches against the Eldar, whom he sees as frightening, condescending aristocratic overlords and comfortable arranging mysterious fires or administering dark alley beatings to those he sees as collaborators with the hated Elves. He is extremely zealous and has a charisma about him, a strength of belief that sustains him much more then food or friends. He is strong but brittle, overly passionate but close-minded, intelligent but foolish.

HISTORY: Minor house carls in Ulfang's "court," Adbrandr's parents enjoy some status and wealth above most of the other subsistance farmers, and thus Adbrandr's life was less hard then most of his peers. He was only a small child during the relocation of the tribes, and carries only a small child's romantic vision of the "motherland" that the tribe relocated from. His knowlege of Elves is just as scarce, his only real experience being a vague memory of them as bright and terrible as they, according to him, commanded that the tribe settle in the area where they are now, an area pitifully too small for the growing number of Men, in his estimation. His youth, while less hard then most, was not easy by any stretch, and he blames this as well on the Elves. Hearing of the "Enemy" that dared to challenge the Eldar's claims of superiority with nothing but a few brave men and other creatures hated by the bigoted Elves, Adbrandr spent most of his teenage years trying to learn from the old men of the tribe about Elvish history and oppressions. Armed with a patchy knowlege of third-degree history, he had declared his contempt for the Elvish collaborationist views expressed by Ulfang and his two younger sons, and holds up the oldest as a misunderstood folkhero, worthy of praise.


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Garen LiLorian's post

"And that is why!" the crockery rattled from the thump as he be brought his fist down, staring feverishly around the dinner table at his companions. "Don't you see? What have they ever done for us? How have they helped us? By giving us what is already ours?! No! And no again!" His head traversed from side to side in an emphatic shake, but his too bright eyes remained fixed on his audience. On the table, his fist trembled with restrained passions. "This... this slavery, yes, slavery is an affront to our proud house that cannot, nay, will not be borne. Justice will out, friends." He dropped into a prophetic whisper at this last. "Mark my words. And you would be wise to side with the people rather then with the overlords when we rise up and throw off this yoke of elvish imperialism." He punctuated his impassioned talk with a deep swallow from his earthenware cup, revolutionary fervor burning deeply in his breast, his strange eyes darting over his audience.

"Yes, yes, just as you say dear." His mother pushed back in her chair uncomfortably, hands dry washing themselves in her lap as she looked imploringly at her husband. The other person at the table brought the palm of his large, hairy hand down on the table with a thump not unlike his son's, only a moment before. "And I say, that is enough of that nonsense, boy." He growled, foul breath washing over the intervening space, his small black eyes glinting dangerously. "Three times already ye've escaped having yer throat cut and fed to the crows, and each time ye come back more lunatic then the last. I'll na' have it under my roof anymore, d'y'hear?" The revolutionary started to speak strongly, but the hairy limb slammed the table again, a cup leaping off in fright, preferring the cool safety of the packed earth ground to the increasingly abused table. "No! I said no an' I mean no, boy! While ye live under my roof, ye'll do as I say, or it'll be me feedin' ye to the crows." The small part of his face not yet claimed by the ongoing struggle of beard, hair and eyebrows was a dangerous red and the hand not used for so scaring the cookware clutched the wooden handle of a long dirk at his belt unconsciously, the barest gleam of iron reflecting candlelight.

The revolutionary leaned forward in his chair, his passion turned cold. His bright eyes glittered like a snake's and, as though taken with the metaphor, his body appeared coiled and tense, ready to strike. His voice, perhaps feeling left out, came in a hiss. "You cannot suppress the truth, father. You cannot kill it with your cold iron or stamp on it with your boots. You are just like every other fat, self satisfied house carl, living off the work of the people, offering nothing in return. A mangy wolf, living off of the scraps the elves feed you, and the meat you can steal without bringing down the wrath of the people upon you." His head made another slow traverse. "No more, father. Strike me all you wish. I never wanted your protection, and I renounce your soveriegnty over me."

The bearded thundercloud darkened and he reached for a handful of the rough shirt his son was wearing, but the younger man slipped his grasp and moved to the door gracefully. "Farewell mother. Find the truth before it finds you." He intoned, and was gone. "Damn blast that Elf-spawned, goblin loving excuse for a milk blooded son of a pox-ridden -!" His father's bellow cut through the night. "You know it's only a phase, dear..." The peacemaker laid her hand on her husband's arm, her voice soothing. "This is the third time this month, and he always comes back, talking about filial piety and the values of this revolution he seems to want so much." She looked out the door sadly. Her still glowering husband clenched and unclenched his ham-like hands, looking for something to hit. "... I'm for the lord's house." He said after a moment through gritted teeth. "If that blasted goblin lover gets his feet too cold and runs back, he can sleep in the field with the animals, d'y'hear?" His wife nodded obediently, privately resolving to do nothing of the sort. "Well then." The man of the house took another look around, as if daring the furniture to utter revolutionary slogans, then ducked into the night after his son.

-----

[Child of the 7th Age]

Garen,

Glad to see you're here.

__________________

My minor character is still to follow but here is my main one. I'll add in the name of Embla's clan/family later as well.

Linked ~*~ Pio

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Child of the 7the Age's character - Khandr

NAME: Khandr

AGE: 40

RACE: Eastern Man - Borrim

GENDER: male

WEAPONS: Unlike the other Borrim, most of whom wield curved blades, Khandr bears a straight sword. It is a blade of fine workmanship gifted to him by Maedhros as a recognition of loyal service in Bor's court. The hilt is silver, adorned with an intricate pattern of intertwining leaves, a pattern more typically elvish than is generally seen in a mannish blade. Khandr’s penchant for this unusual sword puzzles some of the Borrim, but he considers it a physical embodiment of his clan’s oath of loyalty and will not set it aside. He bears a serviceable crossbow that is a gift from his father along with a quiver of 25 arrows; a throwing dagger stashed inside his leather boots; a sturdy hunting knife; a shield of wrought iron; and two ancient spears that once belonged to his grandfather who dwelled far to the east. It is a dangerous world, and Khandr makes sure he is never without a weapon

APPEARANCE: Khandr stands 5’, 5” and weighs about 165 pounds. His black hair is kept short, although it curls a little around the nape of his neck. His skin is tanned from the sun, and one side of his face is marred with a scar that runs from the top of his right ear down to his nostril. Despite the troubling scar, his dark brown eyes look honest, a rare and sometimes dangerous trait in these troubled times. Khandr wears a leather thong about his neck that has a symbol of his clan suspended from it. This device is wrought from the tusk of one of the giant mûmakil and presumably reflects the region from which his clan originally came. Although the son of one of the more prominent members of the Borrim, he dresses simply: leather riding boots reaching to his knees, dark trousers and a tunic, a leather jerkin that’s usually left open, and, when needed, a heavy cloak.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES:

Khandr is an honest man who would love to pass his days in quiet: hunting, supervising the herds, enjoying his beloved first wife, and passing on customs to the younger ones in the clan. Unfortunately, that is not to be. His own household and the wider world he inhabits are filled with strife, a situation he privately deplores. Living in the north, he has seen firsthand the ugly work of Morgoth and his minions, and he despises them. Khandr is by nature a peacemaker, but one born into an age when peace is not possible. In personal terms, he can be stubborn and inquisitive to the point of exasperating others. He is bright and observant and on occasion has learned things that would be better off left untouched.

HISTORY:

Khandr, his father, and brothers are in the personal service of Bor. Khandr has inherited a considerable stretch of lands, both forests and plains, in northern Beleriand and owns large herds of horses and flocks of goats and sheep. He employs servants to care for these, since most of his time is spent at Bor’s court or on official business for him, carrying messages to distant locations. Khandr’s most recent assignment brought him south where he is trying to negotiate a marriage agreement. One of Bor's nieces was looking for a husband, and it was thought wise to try and tighten the alliance with the Ulfings Since Khandr has a reputation as a peacemaker and someone skilled at building bridges, he was chosen to negotiate the settlement. Unfortunately, relations between the two peoples have now deteriorated to the point that Khandr finds himself frustrated at every turn in his efforts to forge a new marriage alliance. He is at the point of giving up and returning home, but hesitates to do so since it will disappoint Bor and his son.

Khandr is doubly frustrated in his personal life. His married his wife Briga at the age of seventeen and is still deeply in love with her. More recently, however, Bor asked him to enter into a second marriage for reasons of cementing an alliance with a powerful family. Taking a second wife is a common arrangement among the Borrim who still keep many of the old ways. He wearily acceded to this request without much enthusiasm. He vowed to treat Embla kindly but to make sure she understood that she was second to Briga. When the new bride arrived, Khandr quickly realized he had taken on more than he had bargained for. Much of his time is now spent trying to put out fires between the two women since they are frequently at odds.

Khandr has two daughters in their early twenties, one married and one single, but neither has travelled with him to the court of the Ulfing. He has always yearned for a son but that wish has not been granted.

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

Child of the 7th Age's minor character -- Briga

NAME: Briga

AGE: 36

RACE: Borrim

GENDER: Female

WEAPONS: Briga owns a small bow which her husband has taught her how to shoot for purposes of sport, but she has never been in a physical fight.

APPEARANCE: Briga is short and lithe, standing less than five feet. She has brown curls that fall to her shoulder and, when she is happy, her dark eyes sparkle. Though approaching the age of thirty-six, she looks considerably younger than that. Her dress is modest, as befits the first wife of a high ranking official.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES/HISTORY

Briga has been loved and sheltered for much of her life. Her parents showered her with love and affecton and her husband has done the same. Khandr and Briga played together as children. They were sweethearts from a young age and have continued to be extremely close as husband and wife, though Khandr protects her from the worst intrigues of the court and from comprehending the reality of Morgoth's attacks on Beleriand.

Shy and reserved with those outside the household, Briga focuses her energies on her husband and daughters and the few close friends she admits to her heart. She is from a wealthy family and has never had to struggle for money or position. She is naturally good natured and gentle but sometimes fails to see the very real problems that people face whose past have been far more difficult than hers, whether in personal or economic terms. As a result, Briga sometimes lacks real sympathy or understanding for those around her who are struggling with difficult issues that she has never had to face. And to make things just a bit more difficult, she is also a person whose feelings can be easily hurt. Her one sadness, which she keeps to herself, is that she has failed to give her beloved husband any sons.

Although Briga hates to argue, she will defend her loved ones with tooth and claw if she feels their best interests are threatened. She was prepared to accept the presence of a second wife in the household with grace, since that is part of traditional Borrim culture. She had hoped to make that second wife a sister and share things with her. What she did not count on was Embla's sharp tongue and open hostility from the very beginning. Briga can not understand the kind of problems that Embla has encountered in life and, as a result, has a hard time feeling any sympathy towards her. The real question for Briga is this: will she continue to ignore the complexity of life and fail to recognize that there are people around her struggling with things she can barely imagine, or will she grow in understanding, wisdom, and grace?


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Child of the 7the Age's post - Khandr

With a weary sigh, Khadr leaned back in his chair and tried without success to sort out the tangled events of the day. He had been home from the great hall for more than two hours, yet his head was still throbbing. He could hear the angry voice of his first wife Briga issuing from down the hall as she criticized second wife Embla for her lack of cooperation and continuing bad spirits. The two women constantly disagreed about household arrangements. Briga would point out when Embla was shirking her share of the work, while the latter would glare out at her, saying nothing but with a nasty scowl on her face.

Not that Khandr would place the major share of blame on Briga! The house had run flawlessly in the old days when she had been the only one on board. He had taken a second wife to extend his own network of alliances and influence and to provide a female friend for his first wife. All his good intentions did not seem to be working. The newcomer Embla had upset the delicate household balance with her sullen face and bitter words. As second wife, Embla should have the good sense to accept that she was not going to be the one on top. Khandr was not an unthinking brute, and a little graciousness and cheerfulness on Embla’s part would have gone far towards earning her many special favors and rewards.

The arguments, however, showed little sign of abating. While Embla did not openly challenge his authority or that of Briga, she sometimes flung out occasional side insults or vague sounding threats which left no doubt that she was bitterly unhappy. Once in a while Khandr glimpsed a real sadness in Embla’s eyes and wondered if he shouldn’t make some effort to sit down and talk to her and try to figure out what was wrong. He did not like confrontations, however, and tended to shy away from Embla rather than run the risk of finding himself in the middle of a very unpleasant conversation.

In any case, Khandr did not have the leisure to deal with the matter now. He had enough on his hands trying to untangle the increasingly confusing web of diplomacy. Any serious attempt to improve the situation with Embla would need to wait till they returned back home to the land of the Borrim. That day could not come too soon as far as Khandr was concerned. This was the fourth week that he and his wives had been in the encampment of the Ulfings. He missed his daughters, and there had been absolutely no progress in trying to forge a marriage alliance between the two kindred peoples. All his effort to negotiate a union between one of Ulfang’s sons and the young niece of Bor had been unsuccessful, despite the assurance that generous gifts would be made as part of the bride price. Some members of the Ulfing entourage even seemed to take offense that the woman would be designated a second wife. That was part of the traditional ways, and Khandr could not understand why this should be a problem.

Khandr felt increasingly baffled over what was happening with the Ulfings. He and his father had always enjoyed good relations with Ulfang. But Ulfang now seemed incapable of making a decision and constantly referred problems and issues over to his sons, especially Uldor. Khandr’s conversations with the sons had been singularly unproductive. They seemed to talk in circles, promising much but never committing themselves to signing an agreement. On top of all that, there were numerous rumors sweeping through the general populace that the delicate balance of peace and war was about to be upset, and they would all find themselves in the middle of a war. Khandr had heard nothing official along those lines, yet he could not help feeling that there was some truth behind these gloomy prognostications.

Khandr bent over his desk and began work on the list of gifts to be sent with the new bride once an agreement was reached. He was still having trouble concentrating. One further regret tugged at the back of Khandr’s mind. If only he had been blessed with a son! The young man could have acted as the arbiter in the disagreements between the two women or, even more likely, Khandr could have avoided the marriage and put forward his son as the bridegroom instead. His son would have been closer to Embla in age and perhaps understood her more. With a weary sigh, Khandr turned his mind away from personal affairs and redirected his attention to the matter of deciding whether twenty or twenty-five goats should be included as part of the bride price.

[Anguirel]

Garen, thankyou for joining. There's one slight alteration you should make in your profile - we've decided that Uldor the Accursed is more likely to have been viewed by Tolkien as the eldest son than the youngest. So your last bit should read something like:

he had declared his contempt for the Elvish collaborationist views expressed by Ulfang and his two younger sons, and holds up the eldest as a misunderstood folkhero, worthy of praise.

You should also be aware that your character is engaged in active treason and so is, at first, in some danger from Ulfang's establishment. Free speech probably isn't tolerated greatly under Morgoth's shadow. But that should make things more fun...

pio, I'd like to add another cameo to the list of available characters. I've decided we can't have a proper Ulfing RP without an appearance by Brodda the Easterling. He's of Ulfang's sons' generation, though I'd guess him as rather younger; maybe 30s. I don't think his birth date is recorded. He is to ultimately become chief of the Easterlings, so he's a pretty vital role - the Fortinbras of our Hamlet, if you like...

My Easterling woman's character description and my first post for the game should be finished by the end of today.

Mith, I wonder if you could PM me what you know about my page, so I can weave him into the first post?

[Kath]

Here is my character bio, it may be subject to change as some bits don't sit quite right with me, but I've been fiddling with it for three days now so I'm probably making it worse rather than better. Yell at me if you do see anything that needs changing.

Linked ~*~ Pio
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Kath's character


NAME: Bergr

AGE: 31

RACE: Eastern Man - Borrim

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: A sword and two sharp daggers hang from his belt and hunting knives are strapped to his shins. He carries a lightweight but sturdy bow along with a quiver of arrows. His armbraces are sharpened to protect him if all weapons are lost.

APPEARANCE: Short at 5’4” and heavy set, though light on his feet. Broad shouldered with a grim countenance he can appear frightening and unapproachable unless he smiles, which is rare. He has brown eyes and dark brown hair which hangs straight to his shoulders if left down but is almost always tied back to keep it from his eyes. He has a beard which is the same dark brown as his hair. He wears a simple tunic and breeches, adding a vest in colder weather, and short boots. His only concession to armour is his armbraces.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: His personality often matches his appearance, grim and hard, except around children. To some his affinity for youngsters is seen as a weakness but he enjoys their company and innocence, and he protects them as though they were his own. He keeps his own counsel and rarely speaks his mind to others, but when he does his words are measured and deliberate. He is liked among his own people.

HISTORY: Bergr originally went north with the rest of his kin and made a modest living for himself, being skilled at tending the land and hunting. He married and lived in relative peace for a time, but his wife died in childbirth and, feeling the need to escape sadness, he travelled south with other hunters. Since arriving at the Ulfing settlement his natural skills have made him popular with some and an enemy of others.

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Kath's post


Stalking into his home Bergr threw his catch down onto the low table that sat near the glowing embers of the fire and threw himself down to the floor next to it. Taking out his knives he dealt with the reward of the hunt quickly and efficiently, some going into the pot he would have his evening meal in that night, some he prepared to keep, and some he set aside for those who needed it more than he did. For the widows whose children were barely able to survive on the little their mother could provide them with, the only ones that even half accepted him here.

Since the day he’d arrived he’d received nothing more than suspicious glances and whispered comments behind his back. Few said anything to his face, they were not that stupid, but he knew of it all the same. Still there was no love lost on his part either, Bergr disliked this area. It had too many hidden secrets and too much hostility. However, it served his purposes for the moment, and so he would stay.

With a grunt Bergr pulled himself out of his maudlin thoughts and busied himself with cleaning his knives and the table. This done, he carefully wrapped the meat he was not keeping in cloths and, taking up the small packages, left.

As he neared his first stop the children of the hut ran out to him, used now to his heavy footsteps, and the younger ones threw themselves at his legs. Barely breaking his stride he allowed two to cling on to his lower limbs and pulled a third up to dangle from his arm.

“Yours, ma’am.” He spoke gruffly but gently to the woman standing over the fire, indicating both the children and the package he held in his one free arm. She had smiled and taken his burdens from him, allowing him to make his escape and continue on.

He returned, empty handed but lighter hearted, having garnered a similar reaction from every household. Sitting down to his own meal he stared into the contents of the pot for a few moments, wishing there was someone to share it with as he did every day, and then set to, his hunger outweighing his desire for reflection.

Later he found himself sitting in a corner of the small inn that he went to on occasion. He usually stayed out of places where there were going to be a lot of Ulfings as his presence was bound to cause trouble, especially when the men had imbibed a little more than was good for them. Today though he had decided that he did not want to be alone, even if the alternative meant being surrounded by these people.

So far things had been quiet. He had kept to his corner, only venturing out when the bar was clear to order a drink, and then skulking back into the shadows again. Most of the inhabitants were too busy discussing the happenings of the day to pay any attention to him, and Bregr appreciated that, enjoying being able to find out what he had missed while hunting, and it seemed that todays news was particularly interesting.




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[Anguirel]

My Ulfing woman is here. Fea, if you want me to change the last bit, do say.

I'll write a bio for her son Drenda too at some stage.

Linked ~*~ Pio
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Anguirel's character - Gausen

NAME: Gausen

AGE: 34

RACE: Human, of the Ulfing tribe of Easterlings

GENDER: Female

WEAPONS: The sharpness and acidity of Gausen’s tongue is proverbial.

APPEARANCE: For a woman of the Ulfings, Gausen stands tall and proud, at 5’3”. She is slender, even slightly wasted looking. Her features have a lean delicacy to them, enhanced by the intensity of her stare. She always dresses in a black robe topped by a sable cloak to drive away the cold; she wears a translucent black veil which she sweeps off in moments of anger.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Gausen is an intimidating proposition, dignified but ready at any moment to succumb to the grip of cold fury. Her temper is colloquially known by the Ulfings as “The Anfauglith Wind”. But, as so often, this furious imperturbability is a shield that hides considerable vulnerability. Gausen is cripplingly vain and cannot understand that the harshness of her life is causing her beauty to fade. As such she is apt to exploit more power over men than she possesses, a debtor to pride.

HISTORY: Gausen was married at the age of fifteen to the Chieftain of a lesser clan under the vassalage of Ulfang the Black, Drenduld; her own ancestry is similar; noble in the pettiest of senses; and this makes her apt to assume airs apposite to a great Queen or Empress. Drenduld was a vile husband to her, but she loved him to worship and dreamed that he might one day take Ulfang’s place, swaddling herself in an elaborate image of a paradisical marriage she had never truly known. She quickly bore Drenduld a son, Drenda; but Drenduld showed her if anything less interest or consideration than before. The child Drenda became, and remained, the fulcrum of her existence.

Shortly after the first banishment of Uldor Ulfangsson, Ulfast, the Chieftain’s second son, gathered power in his hands for the first time and did not hesitate to use it in the punishment of his enemies. Drenduld had once slighted him, or so he said; many rumoured that he in fact sought to seize Drenduld’s petty estate. A duel between the two men left the arrogant Drenduld dead, and Gausen’s life forever changed; her husband’s possessions seized, she and her son were plunged into poverty.

They never left it. Gausen rents a pair of beds in a hovel near the hall of Ulfang. It is a strange and chilling place, lavishly decorated with all Gausen’s remaining, tattered finery, where her son Drenda, now sixteen years old, is nurtured for the great destiny Gausen believes is his birthright.

In the meantime she schemes for the restoration of her former comparative glory. She nurses a hopeless but determined fantasy; that Uldor, greatest son of Ulfang, whom she has often seen in passing and whom she has been presented to at the hall, might deign to love her and protect her son. Uldor’s lecherous disposition has led him to give her faint encouragement.

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Anguirel's character - Drenda

NAME: Drenda

AGE: 16

RACE: Human, of the Ulfing tribe of Easterlings

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: Drenda can wield a scimitar with a good deal of skill, though not as much as he supposes, and is also extremely competent with a bow and arrow after a childhood filled with hunting. He has never fought anything other than wild beasts before, but imagines he would be perfectly capable of doing so.

APPEARANCE: Drenda's handsomeness is a credit to his mother - and indeed entirely due to his mother, for his father Drenduld was thuggish and grim of visage. Taller than most fully grown Easterlings at 5'7", he seems set to become taller still. His form is lithe and agile, his limbs long and wiry, his shining black hair is his mother's delight, and his sparkling eyes seem set to charm the women of the Ulfings.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Apart from the vigour of youth, Drenda's character has in truth few attractive characteristics; for if his looks are his mother's, his mind is his father's. He knows how Gausen dotes on him and is perfectly filling to exploit it when he needs coin or credit; but he feels no loyalty, let alone devotion, in return, only a vague sense of possessiveness that lead him to be suspicious of men who visit the hovel. He longs to prove himself in battle, but his convictions are too shallow for him to care much about the circumstances.

HISTORY: Drenda has spent fourteen years soaking up the love, energy, and funds of his widowed mother. All that can be spared has been spent on Drenda's advancement. This has been to a degree successful; Drenda was granted the status of a lesser chieftain's son by Ulfang two winters ago, and since then his days are spent more often at Ulfang's hall than with his mother. This has tripled his vanity, already inherited mightily from both his parents.

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Anguirel's post - Gausen/Drenda

The quietness of the hovel was disturbed only by the recurring circles of Gausen’s distaff. She span the greyish flax, and watched it form, coagulate, like some eerie shadow of a marsh. Once brought out of this dim room, peered at by her narrowed, unadulterated glance, it would become a garment like any other. It would be given, along with the rest of the batch, to the horse-trader’s wife, and the horse-trader would in turn allow Gausen’s son to retain his steed for another month.

Any service that could be done for him was worth any length of gropings upon a darkened loom. She would have worked outside, for the day was bright – she could see that from where she sat – and it would have allowed her eyes more rest. But that would not, in this instance, do at all. Only lesser women worked outside, where the female art, the feminine struggle, for illusion failed them; where tears and stains and lines were mercilessly revealed. Better by far to shroud herself in propriety, Gausen knew.

She had not seen the subject of all her toils, the redoubt of all her hopes, for above a week. Gausen did not consider blaming her son for this; far from it. She had brought him up now; he was a man, in all, she wryly thought, but his extravagance. But that too was Drenda’s affair, not hers. He was by right, she thought in fury, a chieftain’s son; a right confirmed in oath by Ulfang himself! Why should he not live like one? It was reasonable, then, that he dwelt at Ulfang’s hall, burning with the splendour of his youth, and kept his horse, two hounds and a falcon. How her pride blazed for him then. For Drenda was beautiful, not merely to her, but to all others. He towered already among the tallest of the Ulfings. His features, which were her features, shone with grace and power. And if she had to labour in the dirt to maintain that power? Then by the gods, labour she would.

And then she heard the word, its unenthusiastic tone belying its enchanting significance, at the entrance to the hut.

The word was “Mother”.

Like a lapdog Gausen leapt from her seat, throwing back her veil, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. He had come. He never came here now, never usually. But he made an exception now. What filial piety... she ran to the threshold and embraced his tall, thin, figure, like a sapling still, she thought fondly, a handsome sapling, but no tree yet.

“Drenda...” she cried, but he endured her clutches with an ambivalent glance, and stepped uneasily out of them.

“Mother, we should talk.”

“Come in, then, come in!” But still Drenda hesitated upon the wooden doorstep. The look in his eyes moistened his mother’s. He is ashamed, now he is a great man, she thought, to enter the room where he lived as a boy.

“Drenda,” she said, summoning some of the sternness she reserved for all but her child into her voice, “it is not the feeling of a nobleman to quail at his mother’s house.”

Drenda bowed his head, surly but not wishing to argue, and stepped in. At once Gausen reproached herself. Had she been too sharp with him? Would he leave more quickly now? Had she squandered minutes with her son over a point of pride?

“Mother,” Drenda said, “have you got Father’s things? I need them.”

“Your father’s things?” Confusion mingled with relief in Gausen’s mind that Drenda had not taken offence. “The circlet of his lordship and the sword-belt of his authority? Are...are you certain you need them, my dear?”

“I’m not going to pawn or sell them, if that’s what you mean,” Drenda answered sullenly. “Yes, Mother, I need them. Things are happening fast outside your hut. There’s...there are going to be opportunities, Mother. I need all the dignity I can muster.”

But Gausen had shrunk back further into the darkness of her dwelling; partly to find the relics of her husband she had stored for fourteen years, but also to conceal the fear that spread across her face.

“Will there be war, then?” she asked quietly, her back to her son.

“I do not know for sure,” Drenda answered without emotion. “But an envoy has come from the Eldar. Whatever happens...”

“Oh, Drenda, Drenda, my boy, be careful with your life,” Gausen exclaimed, the sobs starting to conquer her soft voice, “which I have preserved with all that remained of mine.”

Drenda coughed, embarrassed. “Have you the circlet and the belt, mother? I should be present at the Hall to watch the Envoy’s reception.”

“Ay, my son, ay, my good lord,” Gausen whispered. “Take the emblems of your right, my boy, and stand tall in the hall. I know you will have no equals there.”

She passed over a bundle of black silk, laid her hand on her son’s shoulder, and stole a swift kiss from him before he left, laughing at the bristles of his fresh beard. He did not give her another look, but she listened, rapt, to the beating of his horse’s hooves as he made his way to the hall.

When they died away, she considered the news he had brought. If war was to come, she had but little time. She must see Uldor, must convince him to accept her, must solemnize their bond, before the men of the Ulfings left for the north. That way lay glory and preferment for her son.


-----

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

I like it. I'm pretty sure I've yet to write a legitimate bad guy. Bring on the lechery!

[Garen LiLorian]

You should also be aware that your character is engaged in active treason and so is, at first, in some danger from Ulfang's establishment. Free speech probably isn't tolerated greatly under Morgoth's shadow. But that should make things more fun...
Yup, pretty much. :) I figured he believes The Man martyring him would show the truth of his rhetoric, when in fact his parents consistently use the last of their waning influence to keep him alive. Perhaps also, Uldor gives him some slight measure of protection, thinking someday he might prove useful? In any case, he probably thinks of himself as a bigger thorn in Ulfang's side then he really is.

And, edited the bit about Uldor being the oldest.

[Celuien]

Linked ~*~ Pio

Here's my character description. Let me know if anything needs changing.

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Celuien's character

NAME: Ulfast, son of Ulfang

AGE: 43

RACE: Easterling - Ulfing

GENDER: male

WEAPONS: Ulfast carries two gold-handled curved daggers on his belt (like this (http://www.aam.gov.ae/sections/ethno/dagger.htm)). He also keeps a curved sword with a black handle at his right hip.

APPEARANCE: Ulfast stands approximately 5’5”, average height for an Easterling, but is still intimidating in bearing. He is of average build, but well-muscled and agile. His eyes are deep brown, a color that would imply warmth if not for the hard glint in their expression. His black hair is shoulder length, unkempt and matted to conceal a left ear split from the upper curve to the lobe during a raid. He has a black beard in which a few graying strands can be seen. All of his features are large and coarse, and his lips often seem curled in a sneer. His skin is deeply tanned and weathered except for a small area on the index finger of his right hand, where he once wore a golden ring that was his symbol of authority as his father’s heir during his older brother’s periods of exile.

Ulfast wears black boots that reach to just below the knee. His breeches are of the same color. Tunics are either red, brown, or black. He wears a gold medallion on a heavy gold chain. On formal occasions, he is seen in red robes.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Ulfast is quick to hold a grudge, and once his resentment is stirred, he does not forgive those who have angered him. He tends to be sullen and reserved, but his silence conceals the cunning mind of a master plotter. Those against whom his plans are raised rarely know of his plans until he is ready to strike. He stands by alliances, though less from a sense of honor or loyalty than the knowledge that it is unwise to make enemies.

HISTORY: Ulfast is the second son of Ulfang, and as such was given considerable power and influence during the periods of his elder brother’s exiles. When in control, he often behaved ruthlessly, exerting his power to settle old grudges and consolidate his influence over the Ulfings both through fear and through gifts to his friends. After Uldor’s return, Ulfang returned power to his oldest son, leaving Ulfast angry and embittered toward his brother. Though not bold enough to attempt open rebellion, he secretly maintained such alliances as he could – meaning those not known to Uldor – with the hope of eventually overthrowing his brother and regaining power. On some level, he holds himself in contempt for not rising against his brother, but feels that he would not be successful in an attempt to regain power by force since his brother still holds their father’s support.

Ulfast is married to the daughter of a lesser Easterling chieftain and has three children (two daughters and a youngest son) by her, but she and the children are rarely seen due to Ulfast’s distaste for his wife and family.

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Celuien's post

The night before the Envoy's arrival


Stars gleamed brightly in the midnight sky over the Ulfings' settlement. A warm breeze mingled with the new-budding branches, stirring them to a gentle whisper that played behind the song of the night birds. Peace reigned over all, save in one house, where even at the late hour, a light still moved in the windows.

Ulfast knew no rest. For hours he had lain awake in bed, staring ahead as though he could will his sight beyond the wooden beams to gaze beyond the ceiling of his chamber to the still darkness of the night. His spirit was troubled, though he could not say why. Time dragged by and sleep yet failed him until, at last, he lit a lamp and stirred uneasily in the room, changing his nightshirt for a brown tunic and breeches with a black cloak and boots. Perhaps a walk in the open air would settle his spirits.

Concealing a dagger on his belt, Ulfast stole out into the night. He walked in the dark, savoring the odors of loam and cut wood that filled the air, but ever alert and with one hand on the dagger handle. No enemy would catch him unaware.

A turn near the town's gate brought him to the standards of the Claw and Star. Though the symbols could not be seen under the dim moonlight, Ulfast heard the standards flapping in the breeze, and the images were clear as day in his mind. The Star of Fëanor. Not long ago, the Ulfings had been alone, allied only to themselves and a few other tribes in the east. The Dark Lord who held sway from the north was far away, a name to be feared, but not a presence in the daily lives of the people of Ulfang. But now they had thrown their lots in with the Elves. Ulfast had spoken in favor of that choice. The Dark Lord was slipping. The Elves were in open rebellion against him, and were ever seeking new allies for their cause. A new power was rising. Not today, or for a year of tomorrows, or even for long winters after that, but it was rising, and the Ulfings would rise with it to new power beyond their wildest imaginings in the old days.

Ulfast walked on, still lost in his thought, until the sun peered over the horizon. He then turned back to his house to rest before the business of the day began.
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[Anguirel]

Fea is grappling with her studies and won't be able to post her bio for a week yet.

I'm aware my first post is late; I'm waiting on information from Mith, if that's alright.

Rune is also busy and may be a little slow to produce.

[Folwren]

Well, here is mine. As Celuien said, tell me if anything needs changing. I may be editing it before the game starts, I was somewhat distracted as I wrote it and this character will be a new type for me to play. We'll see how it goes.

Linked ~*~ Pio
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Folwren's character - Uldor


Name: Uldor son of Ulfang
Age: 46
Race: Southron Man, an Ulfing
Gender: Male

Weapons: Uldor carries no weapons visibly. Hidden about his person, however, he has a number of small, very sharp daggers within easy reach. In open battle he uses a two-handed, long broad sword.

Appearance: Uldor does not stand extremely tall, no more than an average Ulfing, but his slender form and his straight carriage seems to make him taller. He has a handsome, clean-shaven face, high, prominent cheekbones, small dark brown eyes, and shoulder length, black hair.

He generally wears only dark clothing, a simple tunic and vest with a belt, dark breeches, and high boots.

Personalities with strengths and weaknesses all mingled in: Uldor has no real morals of his own. He is a weak man, thirsty for power and already corrupted by the knowledge that someday, he will inevitably have it. His soul purpose in life is to gain more and more authority. In his past, he has been too hasty with his assumptions of power, and his pride and lack of self-control have gotten him into trouble, eventually getting him banished from his home and thrown out of the inheritance.

At the time of the game, he realizes that it doesn’t pay off to be hasty. He still craves for leadership, but he doesn’t hunt for it so openly now. He goes about things in a round about manner. He twists words and ideas and feeds them to his aging father. He finds with passing time that he can put more and more of his own thoughts and dreams into his father’s mind and through the aging Ulfang, he can put his hand on the ruling of the kingdom of Southrons.

His relationship with his brothers is poor, and he knows it. He knows they hate him, and he knows he is sorry that they do, but he hates to admit it, and so he hates them in return. They confront him with charges of his crimes, they show him he is guilty, they tell him with their looks he doesn’t deserve – he has no right – to be there. They call his own conscience onto him and he can not face that. So he discourages it, he puts it down until he hardly knows right from wrong, and when he stifles his own conscience, he feeds his hate and his lust and everything else evil inside him.

History: Uldor is the oldest son of Ulfang, but he fills the part very poorly. He neither set a good example for his two younger brothers nor tried to. He spent all of his younger days pretending to be king over the country, and did his utmost to lord it over whomever he could (and that included his two siblings).

As he grew older, he only became worse. Few people liked him, and more hated him. He fell into bad ways around his twentieth year, enjoying the company of young, pretty women a little too much. He acted as no honorable person should. Then, in his twenty-fifth year, things came to a peak, when he killed a woman’s husband, because the man found his wife and Uldor together. When his case was brought to trial, he claimed that the husband had become angry and he had had to kill the man in self-defense. The woman claimed that she was being assaulted and made love to against her will and her husband had acted as any true man would. Uldor claimed that what had happened had not been against her will. However, it mattered little if she had consented or not. She was the wife of another man and he had committed murder.

His father banished him from the city and country. He left, torn between furious anger and regret. For a long time he wandered with no home and in an aimless manner. After two years, some spies of Morgoth managed to meet up with him. They talked little, getting to know each other (it seemed to Uldor) only the barest amount, before the spies withdrew. But not long after that, he was again found and again spoken to. For some time, these small meetings occurred and he had no other contact with Morgoth or his followers. But after a year, the visits grew more common. Uldor was allowed to discover more of what befriending Morgoth would gain him. He was offered power and riches, men to command to come or go at his will – if he could go back and bring the Ulfings and Borrim under Morgoth. . .

Uldor did return, but not for another ten years. Not until he was thirty-seven did he go back to his home and his father, asking for forgiveness and swearing that he had changed. His father welcomed him, but did not immediately set the inheritance upon him. Uldor was smart enough not to show that this rankled his pride a great amount. He kept it hidden, for three years he kept in hidden, and all that time he acted as perfectly as he knew how. He helped his father, he spoke with him often, he held close council with him, he learned his secrets, everything. And, finally, he won him over to himself completely and Ulfang set the inheritance once more upon his oldest son.


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Folwren's post

The day was uncommon fine, and Uldor realized it. The wind felt warm on his face, unlike the usual, brisk, cold breeze that had been coming down the past month. The cape on his back was almost unnecessary. Yet, somehow, he liked the way it blew up in the wind as he paced the foot of the wall. He reached the gate and stepped out of the shadow of the wall. The guards leaped to their feet and to attention. He cast them a sharp look.

“Anything new?” he asked, merely to make one of the guards take that ridiculous grimace off his face.

“No, sir.”

Uldor grunted, cast one more critical glance at the men, and passed on. He wandered back towards the great house. He bound up the stairs onto the broad porch and pushed through the great, heavy, wood doors.

“Where’ve you been all this time?” a voice demanded at once. He turned sharply, to find his brother at his elbow. He sighed.

“My dear Ulwarth,” he said, placing his hand on his poor, half-witted brother’s shoulder. “I’ve just been out walking. Surely you did not miss me? I have not been gone long, and you don’t usually notice my absence,” he added with a sneer.

Ulwarth pushed Uldor’s hand away with surprising speed and impatience for a man supposed to be slow. “Our father has been waiting for you this past half hour. Two elven ambassadors have arrived and father wanted to wait for all of us to be there before receiving the message that they bring.”

“Elven? Elves?” Uldor repeated. His black eyes sharpened significantly and nearly flashed under his lowering brows. “Who are they? Who are they from?”

“No questions, no questions, brother, hurry, hurry. . .” Ulwarth grasped Uldor’s hand and led him forward quickly. He reached closed door and laid his hand on the handle. Uldor pulled his hand back abruptly. He cleared his throat, straightened the cape at his shoulders, ran a quick hand through his hair, laying it nicely, and nodded to Ulwarth.

Ulwarth turned, rolling his eyes as his face turned away from his brother, and opened the door. He led the way in.

The room that they entered was a considerable size. A window on the wall opposite the door allowed broad beams of sunlight to stream in. His third brother and his father sat within, as did two strangers. All of them, save his father, rose as the Uldor and Ulwarth entered. Ulfang made the introduction.

“Uldor, this is Lachrandir, of the house of Feanor, messenger from Caranthir, our overlord.”

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Folwren's character - Ulwarth - CARRY-ALONG CHARACTER/NO POST NEEDED

Name: Ulwarth son of Ulfang
Age: 41
Race: Man
Gender: Male

Weapons: He always carries a long, slightly curved dagger at his side. In battle, he wields a great, two-handed broad sword.

Appearance: Ulwarth is short and rather stout, standing 4 foot 10 inches and very muscularly built. His skin is dark, as most Easterlings, his eyes black, his hair, shoulder length, is black, and usually pulled back away from his face, and his beard is short and also black. He almost constantly has a half smile, half smirk on his face. He rarely truly smiles, but often gives an inane, fake, mocking chuckle.

His clothing usually consists of a long, over tunic, dyed in rich, royal colors of true red, dark purple, or green. About his waist is a long, wide belt, attached to which is his dagger. His breeches are dark brown or black, and he wears tall boots. He loves long, fur lined capes, though they actually make him appear shorter than he is, and wider, on account of their bulkiness.

Personalities: Ulwarth generally has the appearance of nonchalance and carelessness on account of his almost constant smile (usually a fake smile) and slow, quiet way of moving and talking. He is neither nonchalant nor careless, though. When he is alone or with some few who he trusts entirely (his nearest brother for one), his smirk is wiped from his face and he is stern and hard, sly as a fox, cunning, and cruel. He is deliberate and thorough in his plans and ideas.

Strengths: An excellent actor, and an ingenious schemer, he is a dangerous man – the fact that he is over looked for something much like a halfwit helps with that. He is loyal only to his father and his nearest brother. He hates his oldest brother for what he calls baseness. He would never stoop so low as to kill a man himself (except in open battle) or touch a woman, and it infuriates him that Uldor has done both and after being banished has come back into the inheritance.

Weaknesses: Though he might not kill someone himself, he has no scruples against having someone assassinated. He is loyal to no one, save Ulfang and Ulfast as mentioned earlier. He is a betrayer, as his name so truly suggests.
On a rather lighter note – his jests and puns are horrible, though he tries to make many of them (and he may do them lamely on purpose to add to his facade of dullness) and he rarely makes anyone really laugh.

History: Ulwarth is the youngest son of Ulfang the Black. All his life, he lurked in the shadows of his older brothers, going mostly unnoticed by people outside the family. His father spoiled him, and his older brothers gave him bad examples (especially his older brother). He quickly learned many tricks of deceitfulness, trickery, and lying.

He is not married; no woman in her right mind would have him. Besides that fact, he didn’t want to marry. A wife and children, he thought, would only get in his way and would make life less enjoyable.


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[piosenniel]

bill_n_sam has requested to play an Ulfing Easterling.

I've put his(?)/her(?) name on the list of posters to the thread.

See you soon, BnS! :)

~*~ Pio

[Mithalwen]

[QUOTE=Anguirel]
I'm aware my first post is late; I'm waiting on information from Mith, if that's alright.

Sorry Ang, I had family stuff yesterday and couldn't get online. I willPM you enough to get you started but I may not get my bio up today 'cos I seem to be getting ill again and want to get home and dosed up.... ASAP ...

[bill_n_sam]

Hi everyone!
I guess I'll be playing a male Ulfing. For the record I am myself actually female although I see my name could be misleading. I just really love Samwise. I'll get started coming up with a bio and first post and get those up soon.

[Anguirel]

Mith, I understand completely - get some rest and PM whenever suits.

[bill_n_sam]

Here is my bio for my Easterling. I hope making him a smith will work out alright. I'm getting this feeling that the easterlings were something like an iron age tribe, and thus probably a smith would be making farm tools, household items, and then weapons. I wouldn't think they would be doing farrier work yet (?) Well, if anyone has any ideas on that subject please let me know. I'm also assuming any "armor" would be limited to relatively small pieces of plate type iron, say like a breast plate, which would be very heavy and probably not your typical ordinary warrior wear. No chain mail as of yet????? Does it make sense that the easterlings would not yet have some of the technology say other races of men and elves have? I had thought this would be something I could bring up in the RPG, say when the elf messenger arrives, the superiority of his gear and the easterlings being anxious to develop that technology for themselves. If anyone knows of any good sites I could look at, that would be great.


Linked ~*~ Pio
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bill_n_sam's character


Name: Dag (rhymes with “fog”)

Gender: male

Race: human, Easterling

Age: 22

Appearance: Medium height for his race (5’3” ?); stocky build; extremely muscular arms, shoulders and torso; deeply tanned skin; very dark brown, straight hair, falling a bit below the shoulders, worn pulled back and tied with a leather thong; dark brown, deep-set eyes with a somewhat overhanging brow; square jaw; thick neck; no facial hair; clothing consists of simple woolen tunic and trousers in natural colors of undyed wool, leather boots and belt, lambskin cloak and cap for colder weather. Usually ties a leather strap across his forehead while working to keep the sweat out of his eyes. Often appears to be scowling but this is due to poor eyesight which causes him to screw up his eyes to see better.

Weapons: normally carries only a sharp utility type knife, but personally owns two swords, plain but well made, and a bow which he only uses for hunting. He has not to date been a “warrior” so to speak, and so doesn’t own any type of “armor” or protective gear, nor a shield, but as a smith, he has relatively ready access to whatever weapons, armor, or shields he needs/wants to make.

Personality/strengths/weaknesses: very taciturn and outwardly quiet and not prone to speaking much more than is necessary. Inwardly, he does give some thought to what is going on around him and makes his own judgments thereon and acts according to what he believes is best for him and his family, although he is far from being a “deep thinker”. He is straight forward in his dealings with others and appreciates the same in return, although he isn’t foolish enough to always expect that to be the case. His ambitions in life are to better himself and his family simply to insure, to the small extent possible, that there will always be food to eat and a roof over their heads, but he has no desire for power or prestige. He is steady, responsible and not given to rash action. However, once he has considered a situation and made up his mind on a course of action, he basically can not be turned from it and is stubborn to the point of mule headedness. He has a tendency not to listen to others even when their advice is sound if he is set on a different course. Slow to anger, once roused he will not back down until he feels the wrong has been righted, even to the point of bloodshed.

History/background: He was born and raised on the eastern side of the mountains; his father was a smith and taught him the trade. Not inclined to be a roamer or adventurous himself, it was his father that convinced him to go to the new lands and make a place for himself there, where the skills of a good smith would be needed and well paid for. Before leaving, he decided, again on his father’s advice, to take a wife, and chose a girl (Gunna) from his village selected by his parents. As part of the marriage negotiations, he was asked to take on the added burden of Gunna’s younger sister (Mem), to which he was much opposed. But his father pointed out that having an extra woman about the home, even one such as Mem, might be a good thing, for a variety of reasons, and thus Dag found himself with two women to care for. That was four years ago and now they are comfortably settled into the main village of the Ulfings, with Dag doing a good business as a talented smith and armorer. Ten months ago, Gunna gave birth to their first child, (simply referred to as baby until her naming ceremony which will occur on her first birthday) so Dag lives in a household of females, which can get a little overwhelming at times.

As to current events, Dag is simply leading his life as he sees fit, fairly unconcerned about power struggles or clashes within the Ulfing community, although he is well aware of the tension between the three brothers. He tries to avoid getting involved in any way, which can be somewhat tricky as he is much in demand to fashion weapons and simple armor for those who can afford them. His goal is to increase his own prosperity to provide his family with stability without running afoul of the powers that be.

-----

Name: Gunna (Dag's wife)
Gender: female
Race: human, Easterling
Age: 18

Appearance: Average height for an Easterling woman (5’); average build, lean, with a sinewy strength; waist length black hair; slightly almond shaped light brown eyes; her facial features are regular and somewhat delicate for an Easterling, as are her hands and feet which are small and shapely; she is not considered particularly pretty by Easterling standards, not ugly, just average Her clothes tend to be a bit more colorful than her husband’s; She wears simple woolen gowns of green, blue and russet; a tooled leather belt and leather slipper type shoes. She has a heavy wool cloak and hood for winter and also a sheepskin cloak.

Weapons: none, other than her feminine wiles which she only uses against her husband

Personality/strengths/weaknesses: A very peaceful and calm person, usually to be found with a somewhat enigmatic smile playing about her lips, she goes through her day with purpose and joy. She takes great pride in being a good wife, making sure her husband is well fed and taken care of, but her true pride and joy is her ten month old daughter. Her only weakness, if it truly is one, is her attachment to her sister. Her loyalty to Mem sometimes places Gunna at odds with her husband, or others in the village, but nothing will dissuade her from always taking Mem’s side. She can be just as stubborn as her husband, although her methods of waging war do not include open attack but more usually subtle but irresistible persuasion..

History: She was born and raised on the eastern side of the Emyn Luin, growing up in a farming family, one of many children who were all taught the value of hard work. Raised to be obedient to men in general, she is outwardly docile. Her younger sister, Mem, has been blind since she was a child and Gunna took it upon herself to guide her sister literally back into the world, acting as her eyes and teaching her to function within the limited confines of their family home. Gunna refused point blank to ever marryunless Mem went with her. Since moving with her sister and husband over the mountains, she has since spent her time making a comfortable home for her husband and presented him with what she is sure if the first of many children.

Of their current living situation, Gunna deliberately tries to avoid knowing anything about what is going on. She doesn’t like it when her husband must be involved in the contentiousness surrounding the chieftain and his sons and often counsels him to avoid taking sides. She desires only to have a peaceful and harmonious home.

-----

Name: Mem (Gunna's sister)
Gender: female
Race: human, Easterling
Age: 16

Appearance: Somewhat stunted looking, the fever which almost took her life when she was a child impaired her growth, so she is shorter and more frail looking than most Easterling women; her hair fell out when she was ill and grew back in a queer, rusty brownish-red color, and tends to be dry and brittle, so it’s kept short, and she wears a scarf to cover it; her eyes are dark brown, but sightless and look empty; her face, on the other hand, is alive with emotion and her highly mobile features show a running reflection of what she is feeling inside; her skin is rather sallow, a result of her ongoing frailty and being inside almost all the time; her hands and fingers are long, thin and deft and are her most attractive feature. Like her sister she wears simple gowns of dyed wool, leather slippers and belt, a cloak for the cold weather.

Weapons: none, she is defenseless in the truest sense

Personality/strengths/weaknesses: eternally optimistic; sweet tempered; patient; joyful. Her weakness might be described as a refusal to acknowledge that there is evil in the world and insists that everything and everyone is essentially good and so she doesn’t comprehend threats to her little enclosed existence


History: She has no memory of what life was like for her before the fever and so has no regrets. From her point of view she has always been sightless, she does not remember what things look like, but this doesn’t bother her. She has created her own little world, with the help of her sister, and enjoys the simple pleasures that she can create for herself, such as spinning, sewing, holding the baby, and most of all, thinking up and telling her stories, for she has become a master story teller. Being blind, her other senses have necessarily sharpened far beyond what they normally would be, and her hearing and sense of smell are acute. She experiences her world predominantly through her sense of touch, and has developed such a skill with the hand spindle that the thread she spins is the finest to be had in the village. This has proven to be quite a saving grace when it comes to her brother in law, who couldn’t help but feel a little misused by his bride’s insistence that her sister accompany them to their new home. Mem’s skill has brought more than a few things into the household and Dag is now much more comfortable with his decision to have her as part of his family. Her storytelling ability has also proven to be a great boon although one that brings merely personal satisfaction to her family and doesn’t generate income or bartering power. She entertains them all with her wide range of tales, interspersed with song, some of which she has taken pains to remember from hearing others tell them, and many of which are her own creations. But her talent for entertaining is starting to spread amongst the villagers and may be bringing her new attentions, although not necessarily welcome ones.


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bill_n_sam's post

Dag swept the back of his hand across his brow, pushing the droplets of sweat aside before they fell into his eyes. Despite the spring chill still lingering in the air, the heat of his forge made his skin glow a ruddy copper and he perspired freely under his woolen tunic. Stopping long enough to strip the tunic over his head and hanging it carefully on the wooden peg protruding from the wall of the shed, he considered returning to his home to retrieve the leather head band he usually wore, to keep the stinging beads from obscuring his sight. But the day marched forward and the work flowed from his head to his hands easily, effortlessly. No, he would not leave the metal, not now.

This morning had been still cold enough for him to delay rising from the warm bed he shared with his wife and small daughter. The sun had risen over the eastern hills as he drowsily watched Gunna preparing the morning meal. When it was ready, he had eaten leisurely, enjoying the baby playing at his feet, his sister-in-law, Mem, chatting merrily to the child and Gunna, making them all laugh with one of her outrageous stories. It wasn’t until the sound of heavy boots crunching on the path outside the door and men calling to one another as the village awoke and began to stir, that he recalled to himself the task for the day. Dag had slipped his arms around his wife, squeezing her comfortably familiar body to his, and said succinctly, “Bring me food at the forge, I’ll be there all day”

Without any comment, Gunna had placed her hand to his cheek and held his gaze for a moment. So much of their communications took place with such looks and gestures, that sometimes it almost seemed that they had no need of words. In the almost four years of their marriage, the young couple had developed a deep sense of rhythm, in their thinking, in their feelings. To Dag, it was a great comfort to have a wife who did not always demand that he talk, talk, talk. It seemed to him some men never shut up – and women more so. Some talked so long and so loud they never even heard what they were saying.

Dag much preferred to listen and to then consider, so much so there were those in this new home of his that had at first thought him simple, or stupid, or deaf. But his reluctance to prove his vocal skills was more than made up for by the skill of his hands at the forge. Soon enough, his new acquaintances were praising how well he could craft a plow blade, or a roasting spit, or, more importantly, a sword, and overlooking his reticence. After all, they needed a smith who could work metal, not spin a tale or tell a joke.

The skill to hammer, to shape, to sharpen, this was what was wanted, and today that want was palpable. The night before, as he has rested after his day’s labor, a heavy pounding had shaken the door to his home. Dag had motioned the women to quiet. As Gunna cradled the child to her breast, he had warily opened the door, his eyes narrowing as one of Ulfast’s men pushed arrogantly inside, not bothering to ask for leave to enter another man’s home. With a slight frown on his face, Dag had listened to the demand - not a mere request, but a demand - for a new sword, a fine sword, wrought of the sturdiest iron and with a keen blade, for the son of Ulfang. It was wanted, he had been told, immediately.

Having no desire to run afoul of any of the three brothers whose father was the chieftain of the Ulfings, and therefore Dag’s own liege lord, and knowing that such a commission, if well executed, would almost certainly increase the value of his other work, Dag still hesitated before granting a simple acknowledgement to the demand. Not that he had any real choice in the matter. These men were known for their viciousness and a refusal would certainly mean a violent retribution of one kind or another. Dag’s hesitation was merely the result of that inner voice which spoke to him when he was stepping into dark territory. The potential for either a rise in fortunes or a fall into disaster was equally as probably when dealing with those who lived for power. But being unable to predict which would be his, and his small family’s, fate, Dag had nodded his head solemnly and said only “Three days hence, he shall have it”.

Dag had set aside his other commissions and set to work on the new weapon at once. If fortune smiled on him, the metal would hold true. The ore had been well smelted and was of high quality. Only the best, for a chieftain’s son. He had lain awake for long hours, carefully going over each step of the making in his mind. Morning found the phantom sword complete, down to the honing of the edge and the crafting of the intricate wire work which would decorate the handle. He had spoken no word of his planned work to Gunna, but as she lay awake beside him through the night, he knew that she was keenly aware that all of their futures lay in her husband’s hands. When had they ever not?

And so, it was with a look of hope mixed with an unvoiced warning to caution, that she had sent him on his way to complete his task. As Dag recalled the gentleness with which she had touched his face earlier, he smiled to himself. Don’t worry, he thought. This will truly be a weapon worthy of a great leader of men.

[Anguirel]

Here's my first post for the game. Mith, if you feel your character isn't quite right do tell.

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EDIT: Added to your character bio post. If edits are needed, please edit it there. Thanks! Pio

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FIRST POST FOR THE GAME


"Yet neither by Wolf, nor by Balrog, nor by Dragon, would Morgoth have achieved his end, but for the treachery of Men."

~~~

For the first year since the Battle of Sudden Flame, it felt as if spring had repelled the pitiless touch of the north, as if the Earthqueen’s power had pervaded Beleriand after a long estrangement. The pair of riders upon iron-grey mounts forded the rivulets off the Gelion, careered through the meadows succoured by the waters beyond its banks, and cut swift, leafy paths through copses.

Only one indication of the danger that this temporary idyll still risked could be discerned – the speed which the riders maintained. It spoke of urgency and intensity. There was something insatiable about the journey of the two Elves, as if even the spans of their lives were limited after all, as if bare months of this vitality remained to be enjoyed, raced through, swigged to their dregs. And so, as it turned out, it came to pass.

But such reflections are suitable only for melancholic lays, for sad dreamers who hope that thinking of the past and lamenting it may bring it back again. Lachrandir, Knight of the Dispossessed, formerly of Thargelion, was no dreamer; and this was not a memory of the past, rather a duty of the present. He galloped on, his eyes on his path, his hands calm and inert at his side, belying the frenetic activity that gripped the messenger and the stallion that bore him. In lieu of a saddle-bag – for his was a high-blooded beast, and he did not presume to sully it with harness and reins, instead riding bareback in the usual Elven fashion – he bore a leather haversack slung across his back; its contents, carefully arranged, did not make a sound or apparently jostle at all on the journey.

The same could not quite be said of the other rider’s burden. There was a strange symmetry about the pair of mounted travellers and their steeds; for they were much of the same stamp in colouring and feature – the Elves dark haired and long-limbed, the horses pale - but one rider and his horse were younger and smaller, with a combination of impetuosity and hesitance that called to mind apprentices before their masters. A jangle of metal now rang out from this younger Elf’s bundle.

“I told you, Tathren, to be careful with the silver,” Lachrandir hectored at him. “We’re riding to a country where nine Men in ten have never seen a coin before; a country still wild and far from tamed with law. The summons we carry is of vital importance, boy; we can’t let it go astray due to some adan thug’s excitement over a glint of...”

“Sorry,” the other said, sounding a little crestfallen.

“Never mind, boy, it’s of little importance. But don’t let it happen again, Tathren.”

Lachrandir gave a short look back at his companion before resuming his watch on the road, spurring his stallion to a slightly higher pace. He has something of his uncle about him, I suppose. He’ll learn yet, he concluded to himself.

~~~

“...Forinasmuch as thou, Ulfang, called the Black, hath been accustomed to owe liege-homage, saving thy dignity amidst the tribes, to us, Caranthir, fourth son of Fëanor, rightful lord of Thargelion but for the false disseisin of the Enemy; by this and by the ties of loyalty between thy vassals and mine, thou art bidden to provide fighting men in service, to the number of seven thousand, under thine own command or under such a proxy as it pleases thee to dispatch, to meet with our own powers and those of our youngest brothers, the Lords Amrod and Amras, on the twenty-seventh day of the month of May; this army being dispatched, under the lordship of our eldest brother Maedhros, Lord of Himring, to avenge upon the Enemy the grievous and perfidious hurts that he hath inflicted. For amongst these art listed the slaying traitorly of our sire and grandsire, the ruin of our realms in the north, and the unlawful withholding of the Silmarilli, greatest work upon Arda, that our father Fëanor crafted, and that we hath sworn, on pain of the Everlasting Darkness, to regain. So it is ordained on this, the eleventh day of April. And we hath sworn, once having raised up this great Union of Maedhros, never to abandon it, and charge thee to swear likewise.”

Such was the main part of the missive of Caranthir, which Lachrandir carried.

~~~

“Lachrandir!” Tathren cried with gladness. “I see smoke rising not far off among homesteads, surrounding a great hall, hewn of oak and ash...”

“I have seen it too, pup,” Lachrandir answered, smiling. “Do not think that my sight is so greatly shadowed by age and toil. That is the rude dwelling of Ulfang, Chieftain of the Southern Easterlings. What do you think of it, lad?”

“Well...” Tathren started, his brow creasing and lips twisting as he tried to find the words. Lachrandir laughed, and his mirth, coming from such a stern visage, was surpassingly bright and clear.

“Well, exactly. I hope you weren’t expecting much in the way of hospitality...this is no Hithlum, Tathren, and it is no Hador Goldenhead who rules it. Put all you have seen and heard of the Edain from your head! This is Easterling country,” Lachrandir murmured, his smile thin now, “and it is another state of affairs altogether.”

They paused in thought for a few moments. Tanreth was the first to speak.

“Stop dawdling, Uncle! Don’t you know the summons we carry is of vital importance?”

“Mind that minstrel’s glib tongue, you,” Lachrandir replied. And I’m not your uncle either; he was a better Elf than I’ll ever be, even if he did charge me with looking after you, young wastrel.

“Very well. Race me, boy,” he added, kicking his horse into a run and charging after the tiny stockade and palisade walls that beckoned in the distance. After a short while the envoy and his page bid their steeds halt in front of the gate into the settlement. As they passed, they had seen the first Ulfings of their journey, who had stared at the towering, fair-featured strangers bearing the star of Fëanor on their tunics in curiosity mixed with no little fright. The guards, too, goggled as they shuffled the gates open. Tathren quickly assumed an air of composure, though he rode tentatively, all too aware that he, an Elf far from mature, towered almost a foot over most of the Ulfings.

In such a manner the envoys reached their journey’s conclusion, passing under the wall where the two banners, Ulfang’s claw and Fëanor’s star on their black field, shifted together in the April breeze.

[piosenniel]

Everyone

Please go back to your original 'character bio' posts and edit in your First Posts there. You can then post afterwards on the thread that you've filled in your first post.

This will make it easier for me when I have to transfer the posts to the game thread.

Thanks in advance!

~*~ Pio

[Mithalwen]

Here's my first post for the game. Mith, if you feel your character isn't quite right do tell.

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Well you have certainly made him come to life ...but you have spoonerised his name ... lacking great inspiration I called him Tathren thinking that willow would be a suitable soubriquet for an elf yet to reach full stature!

Otherwise ..he may never be so vivid again! :D

[Anguirel]

Hilarious...ah well...I'll make a few corrections.

Tathren, not Tanreth. Tathren, not Tanreth...

[Mithalwen]

Hilarious...ah well...I'll make a few corrections.

Tathren, not Tanreth. Tathren, not Tanreth...


Well maybe that could be a little foible that Lachrandir always gets his name wrong...as is the way of elders with regard totheir inferiors... you could leave the ones in reported speech... :p I had a lecturer who couldn't remember my name and insisted on guessing "No! Don't tell me.... "Anastasia! " No "Araminta" ...noooo five minutes later with entire class in stiches " AUdrey! " No it's .... "No! DON'T tell me I'll have it in a minute..."

[Anguirel]

Like the protracted death scene of Edmund Blackadder the first -

RICHARD IV: ...rest in peace, Edmund my son...

EDMUND: Father! You got my name...

RICHARD IV: Oh, sorry, I meant Edwin.

[Mithalwen]

Well yes ..and my darling ma didn't even have that much grasp on my name... she would use my sister's, say " err" , seemed to think "I know we gave the other one a name..what was it?" and then sub in "darling". She only ever remembered it seemed when I was in trouble then I got every last syllable :D

But I am not blameless... I knew a Carmello once and referred to him without fail as Marcello......

[Folwren]

I've got two sisters and we're all living at home now, and Mom (more than half the time) calls all three of our names before getting to the right one. It usually ends up with all three of us looking up, ready for an order. :smokin:

-- Folwren

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

Linked ~*~ Pio

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NAME: Hunta

AGE: 25

RACE: Human

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: A long curved dagger, good for skinning wild game but acceptable in combat. A short bow of black wood, and a stout spear.

APPEARANCE: Average height but somewhat thick through the chest and shoulders, making him appear to be somewhat shorter than he is. Short black hair crudely cropped above the eyes and at the base of the neck. Dark brown eyes and a swarthy complexion with an unsmiling, serious face. He walks slowly and deliberately, like a bear patrolling its territory.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Hunta is a serious, determined and extraordinarily humourless young man. His dedication to the art of hunting has already made him something of a legend amongst his people, but he is far from popular. He is quick to learn and a careful study of anything that catches his interest, but to the dismay of many a teacher he will walk away from anything that does not appeal to him without hesitation or regret. He is quick to make up his mind on any issue, and can rarely explain why or how he has so decided. Despite the rather grim aspect this gives him to other people, Hunta craves adventure -- not for the hope of glory or reknown, but for the challenge presented by the unknown.

HISTORY: Hunta was born to humble parents in a remote corner of his homeland. His early life was difficult and sparse, but not unhappy, as his father tutored him in the ways of the hunting folk. He was a quick study and by the time he was an adolescent he was already leading hunting parties of his own, many of which included older hunters. His successes in the chase were matched by a gentle and careful relation with his mother from whom he learned the mysteries of herblore and healing which she had mastered.

When his parents died, Hunta left his village and undertook a wandering existence, seeking out new teachers and new game throughout the lands of the East. When he heard of a party of hunters who were proposing a long journey to the south to spend time with their Ulfing cousins he leapt at the chance to accompany them, for he felt it would give him the chance to join them.


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Fordim Hedgethistle's post:


Laylah ran ahead pulsing with the excitement of the hunt, silent in anticipation of the kill. They had tracked the buck for leagues and now it was close. Hunta could smell its spoor himself and hardly needed his companion’s more sensitive nose now, but after her many hours faithful labour he could not deny her. He swept through the low brush with no more sound than the wind, his rapid footfalls little more than the scurrying of small animals through the brush. They came to the edge of a clearing and pulled themselves close to the ground. The buck was standing now, his great brown head with its tall antlers erect and alert.

Their quarry was cunning. He had come to the field to flush out his hunters, to force them into the open where he could see them better and know what he should do. Hunta smiled and stroked Laylah’s thick neck. She acknowledged his hand with a low whimper and turned her head to lick his hand. Her lips were pulled back revealing long teeth, and her short golden coat stood up in a long ridge down her back. “Good girl,” he told her. “That was a good run and a fine pursuit.” Laylah merely returned her gaze to the buck; she knew there was still work to do. They began slowly to track their way around the edge of the clearing, looking for a place where Hunta could loose his bow.

The buck stirred and stamped his hoof, looking at the woods for the predators that he knew lurked within, but he could neither smell nor hear anything. He knew they were still there with the instinct of the hunted, but he was an old and wise in the ways of the forest and kept his head where a younger animal would have panicked and fled. A noise came to his ears which twitched and swivelled the better to hear. Lifting his head he heard the sound of fast approach, and the calls of musical voices in the air. He turned and fled toward the forest, and there came a sudden shaft from the side. Too late he tried to flinch and it buried itself in his flank, bringing agonising pain with every stride. He crashed into the forest wall and ran on into the trees, but the pain mounted with each step and he could feel something wet and hot running down his legs.

Hunta cursed foully the ill fortune of the hunt – and the riders who had so stupidly thundered past the clearing. His wonderment at their appearance and bearing was overcome by his anger. His shot had merely wounded the buck, meaning many more hours of tracking through the woods looking for his prey. The arrow had struck deep and hard and though the buck did not know it yet, it was already dead. But Hunta felt sick at the thought of the great beast wandering in pain and bewilderment, only to be dispatched at the end of struggle with a knife through the throat. It had deserved a cleaner death.

Calling Laylah to him he followed the blood trail back into the forest.


----------

[piosenniel]

Pass on by -- just leaving this space . . .

[Lalaith]

Linked ~*~ Pio

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Lalaith's character


NAME:Embla

AGE:25

RACE:man

GENDER:female

WEAPONS: Like most women of her people, she carries a knife with a bone handle and carved blade, for household work, skinning animals and, in extremis, for protection. Her real, and very effective, weapons are a baleful glower and a reputation - which she is keen to promote – for having “the eye”.

APPEARANCE: Embla is an Easterling but she is sallow-skinned rather than swarthy, as are most of the Bairka clan. She has dark dank hair which would be beautiful if she ever combed it; green-yellow eyes, heavy brows and a forehead already lined by scowling. Slight and slim but with poor posture, she is much given to clutching her woolen shawl about her. She wears traveling dress - calf-skin britches under a felt skirt and waistcoat, crudely embroidered with wool, and a linen shift underneath. She wears gold earrings and bracelets studded with turquoise, and a ring of some value which she inherited from her mother.

HISTORY: Embla’s problems really began before she was born. Her mother Rind was a high-born member of the Bairka – a small but wealthy trading tribe of Easterlings who settled close by the Borrim. They were lighter-skinned, with straight long hair, and more matriarchal than their neighbours. Marriages among the Bairka were usually arranged with the consent of both partners and bigamy and polygamy was unknown.
Proud and willful, Rind took it into her head to marry a devil-may-care fellow named Hrapp. He proved a drunken and unpleasant rogue, and Rind, disenchanted with her chosen mate, had her little daughter fostered with her own powerful family. But when Embla was thirteen years old, her mother died and the cantankerous father reclaimed his child, quarrelling irrevocably with the Bairka in the process. All Embla’s promising marriage plans were dashed. Eventually, Hrapp agreed, for a modest bride-price, to send Embla off as a second wife to the Borrim envoy Khandr. Embla, unconsulted and unwilling, was furious. Nor were the Borrim very happy with the deal – they had hoped for an advantageous alliance with Bairka rulers and were unaware of the family quarrel. In short, Embla’s marital life began with negative feelings on all sides, and relations between all the three people involved in this ill-advised second marriage are, as this story begins, severely strained.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Embla is a thoughtful, sensitive and observant woman and if life had treated her slightly better she might also have been quite a nice one. But her situation has made her extremely bitter, and she is prone to brood over real and imagined insults. She hates her rival, Briga, and has mixed feelings about her husband Khandr...she does not love him but she perversely dreams of turning his attentions away from Briga, and then having the pleasure of spurning him. She has not yet borne her husband his longed-for son - unsurprising given her cold and empty marriage bed.
While she is too proud to complain openly, Embla finds relief in lugubrious, portentous or ambiguously threatening remarks – the Bairka are considered skilled in foresight and she likes to exploit this to her advantage.

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Lalaith's post

Embla stirred the fire and smiled to herself. It was not a very pleasant smile.
Briga, the senior wife - the hag, as she privately called her - had lit this fire in the hearth, and then told her to tend it. She, proud daughter of the Bairka, had obeyed - but she had her revenge. Small, unimportant victory, but sweet nevertheless.

Open conflict was not her method. After all, Khandr, her husband…she clenched her jaw in anger at this last word, now so empty of any meaning it had carried in her girlish dreams. In those days, she imagined she would wed according to the customs of her people. A hand-fasting with a young man of her own choosing, each cleaving solely to the other. Yes, in open conflict, her “husband”, Khandr would take, as always, the hag’s part.

When her worthless father had sold her into what she regarded as little better than concubinage, she was horrified. But she at least imagined her existence would be soft and pampered - that the ageing husband would dote on his new young bride. Inexplicably, her youth seemed to hold little allure for Khandr. Instead, he clung to the familiar, middle-aged comforts offered by the hag. His infrequent visits to Embla’s tent were due to his longing for a son, not for her nubile charms.

So, when ordered to sit by the hearth, Embla made sure her retort had nothing to do with the task at hand, nothing to which Briga could reasonably object. You will not choke on big words and pig fat, sister wife, she said grinning. The older woman was discomfited, Embla could tell, and puzzled. Was this perhaps a curse or insult among the Bairka? Then Embla gazed deep into the fire, rubbed her ear-lobes, touched the skin beneath her eye and muttered dark and obscure words.
Axe-time, sword-time, shields are sundered,
After the wolf do wild men follow.

Embla knew well that her people had a somewhat mysterious and even oracular reputation among the Borrim. And now this gave her great satisfaction – the older woman looked distinctly alarmed, and left the room hastily. Of course, it did not take much to unsettle or intimidate Briga at this time. None of the Borrim were comfortable in their current surroundings. None except Embla herself. She was used to living in an alien, hostile environment – she had, after all, been doing so since her marriage. In fact, she rather enjoyed observing the discomfiture of the rest of the party - her husband, the hag, and those two doltish hunters - watching them feel as unwelcome, as wary, as ill at ease as she herself had always been since she first arrived among the Borrim.

As for her menacing pronouncements….Embla smirked again. Many of the women in her family did indeed have the sight. She remembered well the gestures of the Bairka sybils, and the kind of words they spoke when their visions came upon them, and she knew how sinister they could be. But she also knew enough about the sight to know that her Eye – if she did possess the gift - was too clouded by hate and anger to reveal any real truths.


-----

[Child of the 7th Age]

I've added the profile for my character Briga. Click here. (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=492662&postcount=106)

Since she is a minor character, I slightly condensed the profile format. I'll be gland to edit if you see any problems.

Post to follow.

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

Name: Thuringwethil, or Tyra as she is known to the Ulfings who must know her – subject to change!
Age: NA
Race: Maia
Gender: Female (typical form/association)


All fine and good, but:


does she have wings, and, if so...
do they work?


:D

(If the answer to both is "yea" then might I suggest a name change to Rogina?)

[Durelin]

Rogina is adorned with wings like a bat's, figuratively speaking only.

Purely a fashionable accessory, I assure you.

Ah, vanity.

*Note the simile: blatant figurative language.

:p

[Folwren]

I will not be around until Monday evening. I will try to write a first post then or Tuesday sometime. In what sort of hurry are we to get these done? I've been trying to think what would be appropriate, and after reading Anguirel's first post, I may have an idea growing. Anyway, we'll see early next week.

Till then!

-- Folwren

[Volo]

I'm sorry, but I have been pretty busy, I'll still write the post and play if you're willing to have a slow person with you. I should also note that I might not have an internet connection during 18-29.10...

[Anguirel]

My first post for Gausen and Drenda is up.

Also, bad news I'm afraid. Wish I'd been in a position to tell you earlier, but I'll be absent from 20th-29th of October, in the south of France, without internet access. I'll leave it to pio to decide whether the game should be put on hold till that time (I expect we'll have started by then).

[Kath]

I'm afraid that my first post will be late in coming. I have limited computer access this weekend as well as an essay for Wednesday. If I feel a drastic need for procrastination I may get one up before but I think it's unlikely I can get one up before Thursday.

[piosenniel]

I also have a number of commitments over the next week.

Here's what I'd like to see done - by October 28th, I want all the Character Bios and First Posts on board. That gives everyone 2 weeks.

I'll be sending out reminders by PM to everyone.

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Anguirel

When you return, you'll need to decide the order for the posts and I'll get them onto the game thread - that way you'll be here when the game starts.

~*~ Pio

[CaptainofDespair]

Linked ~*~ Pio


CaptainofDespair’s Character

NAME: Ulfang
AGE: 71
RACE: Men, of the Ulfing People
GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: Ulfang bears a long, curved scimitar-like weapon on his belt. The sword is rather plain in appearance, save a single gemstone placed in the center of the blade’s hilt.

APPEARANCE: The Ulfing chief is often adorned in a variety of garment types, usually in color combinations of subtle reds and deep browns. However, as a status symbol he always wears a great brown bear pelt draped over his shoulders. Ulfang, despite the effects of time, is still quite large in frame. His face is pot-marked from diseases and battles that span his lifetime. Many of those crags now lie hidden, as a great beard speckled with whites and the lingering splotches of his younger years now sprawls across his proud features.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Ulfang, despite his age, remains defiant and arrogant. He firmly believes he is still quite capable of leading his people, although he recognizes several of his duties have been usurped by his sons, and especially Uldor. But the truth of Ulfang is that his rule has become that of the fangless wolf. While some might think that age would temper the warlord, he has instead become ever more nasty and spiteful. But that terrible anger he displays is often misplaced. Ulfang’s mind is failing him, although his other senses are not in such a decline. Threats are often misinterpreted by the aging man, and he at times acts against his confederates from this mental impairment. As such, his sons have been able to manipulate him more than he realizes.

HISTORY: When the Easterlings crossed into Lothlann and Beleriand in FA 463, there were two houses. Ulfang, lord of the Ulfing peoples, led one of those two. He had come at the urging of Morgoth, who sought to use the race of Men to aid him in the defeat of the Elves. Having come into Beleriand, the Ulfings made a pact with Caranthir. Under the watchful eyes of the Elves the House of Ulfang settled in Beleriand. Yet, while Ulfang ‘leads’ the Ulfing peoples, however, it is his sons, and especially Uldor, who truly rule. In his pride and arrogance, the leader of the Ulfings is not happy with the Elves acting as if they are the ones in control, even with what little control he really has over his people.

When the time finally came for Ulfang and his sons to march to war with the Elves and Edain against the darkness of Morgoth, they betrayed them in the Nirnaeth Arnoediad.

[Noinkling]

Pio

I've written my first post. I was thinking one or any number of your characters can dialog with the old gal.

[Folwren]

I just realized that in my character bio I have no history. Sometime I'm going to add that to it. Not tonight.

I am back, but I am not feeling my greatest. Tomorrow is the soonest I'll have any new writing up, but if it turns out that I do actually have some sort of vexing illness (a cold or sore throat, blah), then I can't promise anything. I'm so sorry to add myself to the list of people 'not quite able to put up my first post'. Be that as it may, I can't really help it. I will try hard, though.

I will be able to finish my bio and my first post by October 28!

-- Folwren

[Anguirel]

Fea is having serious doubts about being able to play Uldor with full commitment. Uldor is a lynchpin of a part and if possible, pio, it would be brilliant if you could find a replacement.

We also need to find a Brodda...

[Rune Son of Bjarne]

Rune's Character Description:


Have you posted in The Golden Perch Inn, The Green Dragon Inn, The White Horse Inn, or The Eorling Mead Hall in Rohan? – YES (The Green Dragon Inn)


Linked ~*~ Pio

_______________________________________


NAME: Erling

AGE: 36

RACE: Men, of the Ulfing People

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: A short standard sword, small wooden shield and a short-bow (mostly used for hunting)

APPEARANCE: 1.69 meters high, have broad shoulders and his back is a bit crooked. He has a small face, brown eyes and thick hair that is black as coal. All of his clothes are woollen with out any specific colour(stained with different earth-colours by long intense use) , he wears the same 2 sets of clothes until they fall apart. He owns a chain mail, but only wear it the few times he has been to war.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: A down to earth man, a pessant, he takes pride in his work and it is what he really want to do without any disturbances. He can see the need for war and can fight, but he does not hail it. He is not easily fooled and even though he would never be considered wise he has his own kind of wisdom. (Butterburryish one might call it). He is somewhat of a loner, who does not socialise much, not that he does not like the company of others, but he treasure long periods of solitude.

HISTORY: He was raised into a family of farmers and was thought the crafts of farming at a very young age by his father. His up-bringing was tough, but not with out love. He had to work hard each day with his father and was punished when he made a mistake, but his progress was also recognised and awarded. Both mother and father died when he was 20 from an unknown disease and he has been living alone ever since. He has a few distant relatives, but has not had any real contact with them for years.


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

Rune Son of Bjarne's post

Erling’s hair flowed in the wind as he and his hunting companions walked home from their successful hunt.

They were quiet as they walked along. Not an awkward silence at all. It was just that they did not need to talk much; they never did. There them, which enabled them to enjoy socializing in silence as much as if they were merrily drinking and singing together.

For Erling there was nothing as good at these kinds of hunts, they left him with a splendid feeling of happiness. Not even the feeling of accomplishment after a successful harvest could satisfy Erling as much.

The small company approached their destination point, a nice little house, Grimr’s home. Erling knew from previous experiences that it was a friendly house, a bit too noisy and lively, but cozy and friendly. As they drew nearer to the house Erling for some reason started to pick up pace, as if the hunt had made him long for such homely coziness.

As they stood at the front of the house, a fair bit of movement could be heard through the door. “By the sound of it, our arrival has not gone unnoticed,” Erling said with a smile upon his lips. It was impossible to tell whether Grimr had heard him or not. For in two steps Grimr had opened the door and gone in.

“Let the young fellows take care of our prizes, Erling! Come and have a cup of ale with us!” came Grimr’s call to him from within the house. After leaving his share of the hunting “spoils” with the twins, Erling went in. He greeted Granny with a smile and a deep bow and took the large cup of ale offered him.


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

[Kath]

Ok I'm back, I'm no longer busy (for all of a week) and I will get a post up within the next couple of days.

[Celuien]

Just checking in to say that my first post will be in shortly (as in by tomorrow evening).

[Kath]

Okay I've put my first post up but I just want to check a couple of things. First I used the word "ma'am". Can I have that or should I use something else?

Second, will the Ulfings and everyone else know about the call to war by the time we're placing these posts? I was going to have Bergr overhear a discussion about it but thought I'd better ask first.

[Durelin]

Alrighty, my first post has been edited in. Sorry it took forever; just needed time and at least a little inspiration to come together for once. ;)

Just let me know if there are any problems, or if you'd like me to include more.

[piosenniel]

OK - my post is on board.

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

Rune

I did bring your character in to my post (HERE (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=491876&postcount=54)) at the end. If you want me to edit him out, I can.

~*~ Pio :D

[Child of the 7th Age]

My post will go up tomorrow....

[piosenniel]

I've sent out a general reminder to everyone needing to get their First Posts or Bios done.

Anguirel will be back this weekend - please get them done so he can look them over and set up the order of posts for the game.

Thanks!

~*~ Pio

[Noinkling]

Good post, Pio! I'm looking forward to being in your little family groups and writing along with you.

:)

[piosenniel]

Bêthberry has offered a seasonal RPG in Rohan – The Veil is Lifted.

It’s a 7th Age game, based loosely around Hallowe’en and open to all comers.

Come join us and have a little fun!

Game Thread – HERE (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showthread.php?t=13350)
Discussion Thread – THERE (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showthread.php?t=13351)

~*~ Pio

[Dimturiel]

I have finally managed to place my first post. Do let me now if you want anything changed.

[Celuien]

It's a few hours later than I thought it would be, but my post has been added. :)

[Child of the 7th Age]

Post is now going up in my original space: here. (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=492662&postcount=106)

Pio - Could you wait till tonight to post it up on the game? Since I refer to Embla, I wanted to check first with Lalaith to make sure that I'm on track.

[piosenniel]

Actually, I'm not posting any posts to the game, until Anguirel comes back and puts them in the order he wants them.

[Mithalwen]

Hours and the computer died just as I was about to post .. I am crying....

[Mithalwen]

NAME: Tathren (epessë meaning willowy derived from his "mother name". Full name Menelmir Tathardil)

AGE: 36 (which I think is about 16 in elf years)

RACE: Noldorin elf

GENDER: male

WEAPONS: (No magical, super-hero, mithril weapons. Just good solid Middle-earth weapons and armor only that is appropriate to the race of the character and the time period.) Has a long knife formerly the property of his uncle (I am assuming the page would not be more heavily armed than his lord).


APPEARANCE:Raven hair shorn to his shoulders, large dark grey eyes which give him a watchful appearance, pale complexion. He is dressed in a like manner to Lachrandir but his garments are plainer. Not yet full grown he stands already over six feet tall but the increase in height has as yet far outstripped increase in stature making his long standing (and universally used) nickname even more appropriate. His horse is younger than Lachrandir's and so a darker grey.

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)

Tathren is stronger both physically and mentally than he appears. He is fair spoken and soft voiced but aware of his role he is likely to be doing more listening than speaking at first. He has a quiet but mischievous sense of humour and can be quite spirited when the spirit moves him.

Lachrandir took an interest in the boy for the sake of his uncle - one of the companions slain at the Dagor Bragollach) but Tathren's skill as a horseman combined with his lithe frame meant that he had more chance of keeping up with Lachrandir than other possible companions.

HISTORY:

Tathren is the son of exiles. His father was also killed in the Dagor Bragollach but earlier in the battle than his elder brother. His mother and an elder sister,born at the beginning of the long peace, survive.

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

Mithalwen's post


Exhilaration and apprehension had been the emotions duelling in Tathren's heart the length of their journey, for he was young and high hearted and no danger or duty could dispel the delight of youth freed from maternal supervision to ride far and fast on one of the finest horses his people possessed alongside - well at the heels of - their swiftest rider. Yet this was no essay of skill to fill a time of leisure; though he had spoken in jest to Lachrandir he had wit enough to appreciate the significance of their mission and the honour that had been accorded him.

An honour he hoped that was not entirely to the charge put on Lachrandir some fifteen years ago by his brother in arms. Tathren's mischievous form of address had masked a certain sincerity, for he admired Lachrandir as much as his late uncle and, if truth be told, liked him rather better, never having quite forgiven or forgotten.... but this was not a time for walking the paths of memory. He dispelled the recollection. as his senses were assaulted by the sights sounds and indeed smells of the Ulfing settlement.

Lachrandir had spoken truly; this was unlike anything he had experienced before. Though their own dwellings since the loss of Thargelion were far from the finest of the Noldor, it was in the nature of his people to make things fair even when they made for necessity. He doubted that any straits would lead them to make buildings as crudely as this. The roughly thatched huts seemed to be built of wattle and daub and were arranged haphazardly within the stockade . In such buildings we might house our beasts, thought Tathren, as indeed they seem to… but we would not dwell so close by them. The young elf was hard put not to gawp as much as the guards. He found these people quite as astonishing as they did him. To his eyes they were no more finely constructed than their dwellings - short, squat and crude. Scarce taller than dwarves, he realised having dismounted and somewhat reluctantly entrusted his colt to one of them. His face betrayed none of the wonderment he felt; he used every scrap of self control to assume the dignity he deemed essential to his role as he followed Lachrandir into the great hall. Tathren had tried to ride by his side, now he walked carefully in his shadow, his dark grey eyes watching, waiting …
-----

[Folwren]

Uldor's character description and bio is up. I am about to being working on the first post. I am afraid to say that his History section is somewhat long, but most of it had already been laid out for me, so it was fairly easy to do.

I am unsure about his contact with Morgoth and his servants? Someone let me know if what I did was alright or if it isn't alright.

Let me know of anything else that needs fixing, too. don't hesitate to tell me if something needs to be changed because it's simply not good.

Anyhow, as I said above, I am about to begin on my post and it should be up eventually tonight.

EDIT: Alright, first post is up. I hope it works. If it is not, let me know.

Anguirel, are you planning on writing anything about that first meeting? I had some thoughts of what I could write, but it's not so important that it has to be written. But I thought that if you did want to write it, then it would be fine, and fun. :)

-- Folwren

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

My first post is up.

[Lalaith]

Mine is up too.
Child, are you ok with what I've suggested Briga does/feels?

[piosenniel]

Moved list to next page

~*~ Pio

[Anguirel]

Missed you, everyone!

Now, I have a surprise...two Broddas have turned up, Saurreg and CaptainofDespair. For the moment Saurreg has priority, as CoD already has a role, but in the event of Saurreg having second thoughts, CoD, you're earmarked.

For now, arise, Saurreg, with pio's consent of course.

[piosenniel]

Saurreg is a fine candidate -- I've been wondering what would entice him back to the RPG forum. :D

Just have him get a Character Bio on board - since he's a CAMEO, no First Post is needed.

What do you want to do about the last CAMEO, Anguirel? Caranthir, who comes in at the end of all things...

~*~ Pio

[Anguirel]

I'm tempted to leave him at "Illuvatar will provide" for now. I mean, it's a gem of a part and someone will want him eventually...and he's not needed for a while.

In a last resort, I'll happily play him myself.

[Volo]

I'm really sorry, I'll get that post ready tomorrow first thing after school if I can.

[piosenniel]

That's great, Volo!!!

:D

~*~ Pio

[Volo]

Ok, there it is. :)

[Anguirel]

Mith, I don't know if you've started your post for Tathren yet, but if not, I've thought up rather a cunning wheeze.

Could your post take the Elves from where they are at the end of my post - entering the settlement - to where they are at the beginning of Folwren's Uldor post - with Ulfang, waiting for Uldor's arrival? Ulfang will say the negotiations can's begin till Uldor is present.

Folwren, one change I'd like you to make if poss...at the end of your post, "an elven lord", should be cut or changed to something like "the elven lord" or even "our overlord." Ulfang and his sons have sworn fealty to Caranthir, and know who he is, just like, say, Canadians know who the Queen is. Inept comparison maybe! Lovely post by the way.

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

Ulfang and his sons have sworn fealty to Caranthir, and know who he is, just like, say, Canadians know who the Queen is. Inept comparison maybe! Lovely post by the way.

Oi! Hold fast there, lad! I've not sworn any oath of fealty to the Queen! And since we had to good sense to repatriate our constitution in 1981 we've had no official tie to your head of state other than as legal lip-service.

So there.

Back to RPGing.

[Folwren]

Okay, thanks. I was not sure at all about how these Ulfingers stood in relationship with the elves. Definitely good to know that they've already sworn fealty.

-- Folwren

[Child of the 7th Age]

Lalaith,

Embla's post is fine. We should have some fur flying between these two characters for a bit! :p

[Anguirel]

Alas, Saurreg has changed his mind. CoD, Brodda is yours. I'll send a PM to confirm.

[Mithalwen]

Sorry to hold up everyone ..yes I can do that with my post Ang.

The settlement, thatched huts with larger hall surrounded by wooden stockade type thing? Animals around..that the right lines?

[Anguirel]

Oddly enough, Mith, I reckon if you think Edoras you won't be far wrong. So, basically, what you said, yes.

Remember Saruman's description of the House of Eorl and you're there...

[Mithalwen]

yes I was thinking that but without the carving and gilding.. okies...... brats about to roll in the reek...

[Durelin]

Just wanted to let Pio in particular know (just in case) that I made a tiny edit to Thuringwethil's bio, changing her alias.

[Anguirel]

I really like Jord, Durelin. Very successful in creating something succinct, harsh yet moving. In the Brodda line of things.

[Lalaith]

Mother Earth, in fact.
Begat Thor with Odin. I like it, too.

[Durelin]

Ah, excellent. Thanks guys. :D

[Mithalwen]

Late I hope is better than never... done..!

[CaptainofDespair]

I really like Jord, Durelin. Very successful in creating something succinct, harsh yet moving. In the Brodda line of things.

And speaking of dear Brodda, I will have that bio up within a day or two. A few assignments have bogged me down in that swamp called College.

[Mithalwen]

Oddly enough, Mith, I reckon if you think Edoras you won't be far wrong. So, basically, what you said, yes.

Remember Saruman's description of the House of Eorl and you're there...


On reflection I may have been thinking of Asterix....if I need ot change or add anything let me know....

[piosenniel]

Garen LiLorian

Please get your First Post on board.

Thanks!

~*~ Pio

[Anguirel]

Mith - I've always thought Asterix rich in affinities with the Silmarillion; in fact I brought it up somewhere on the chapter-by-chapter...Tulkas as Obelix...

[CaptainofDespair]

Linked to character/player list ~*~ Pio


CaptainofDespair’s Character

NAME: Brodda
AGE: 45
RACE: Men, of the Ulfing People
GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: Brodda carries numerous weapons, based on his expectations. Under most circumstances, he carries a scimitar of plain design. When needed, he will sometimes resort to a long-bladed dagger or a hand axe. In addition to these, he also bears a knife, for defense, on his belt.

APPEARANCE: Beneath a cloak of black wolf fur, Brodda wears a grey shirt and black pants. His boots are a muddy brown, stained somewhat with a few smatterings of dried blood. He never strays from this garb, except when taking up his battle attire. On his right hand, he wears a silver ring inlaid with gold –taken in highwayman fashion from an unlucky Easterling.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Brodda is a schemer, and to some he is cowardly. But like Uldor, who considers him a servant, he is ruthless. He throws his weight with Uldor around quite a bit amongst his people, showing his brutal side. This piece of his personality, however, only shows itself when it is to his benefit. With the current struggles for power in the Ulfing House, Brodda has positioned himself well should something go awry.

HISTORY: Brodda was born around the time of Uldor, although just a year younger. His youth was much like any other Ulfing, smeared with battles amongst his peers for ‘honor’ and glory, when no outside target presented itself. As he progressed in age, he became an accomplice of Ulfang’s sons, particularly Ulwarth. When it became apparent that Uldor was the one to side with, however, the conniving Brodda switched allegiances. Since that time, he has served Uldor as a glorified henchman, performing the eldest of Ulfang’s dirtier work. However, he does maintain a few connections with Ulwarth, as a safety net.

As the coming conflict begins to rear its head, Brodda sees the potential for a disaster, especially as Uldor’s plans are presented to him. Worried he might be left with nothing, the unscrupulous Ulfing has begun to make plans, whatever they may be, to secure his survival.

~*~

If there need to be any changes to dear Brodda, please let me know. :)

[Nogrod]

Okay. One Borrim hunter going to join the gang... I'm trying to come up with the BIO and the post during the weekend.

It took some time: I really thought this a wonderful game from the moment I saw it but hesitated because I'm in two games already ("The Fellowship of the 4th Age" and the "Eorling Mead Hall"), but as I see that many people sharing those games are also hanging around here, so why not to join too?

See you soon!

[Mithalwen]

Mith - I've always thought Asterix rich in affinities with the Silmarillion; in fact I brought it up somewhere on the chapter-by-chapter...Tulkas as Obelix...


That is something that hadn't occured but I can't help feeling that Getafix is a very much and Istari type wizard.......

I probably won't be around much next week since my aged father had a fall and fractured his pelvis yesterday .. which means I may not be able to spend my evenings on line ...... shouldn't be for too long

[Garen LiLorian]

Post is up! Ha ha. Sorry about the lateness. Thanks for the reminders, Pio.

[Nogrod]

Hi fellow Borrims!

I've read through our "gang" and that has raised a few questions. Any answers or comments to these would help me greatly to come up with my characters BIO (history-part) and especially the first post. And I quess some agreement here would help us all in writing.

The Borrim is said to be "a party from the north", so should we really be a party? Child hasn't made any references to others than Khandr's wifes. But Lalaith clearly has written her post including the "rest of the party", referring to "those two doltish hunters" (which should be three now as my character will join in). Fordim has mentioned that Huntha had joined a party but Kath writes about a character who lives and goes in his own without any familiar faces around...

From Child's and Kath's posting one gets the impression that these people live in houses but Lalaith talks of Embla's tent where Khandr visits. So tents or houses? Khandr seems to be an important man enough that he could have been shown a built lodging or a luxury-tent for his temporary visit - which could include a desk as Child describes the place. But how about we three (Fordim, Kath & myself)? If we belong to the same party, shouldn't we at least live around?

And if we are a party, why are we three there in the first place? Fordim said Huntha just volunteered, but how about we two (Kath's and mine characters)? Khandr's bodyguards, his wifes bodyguards, or then just fellow trekkers Khandr has allowed to travel with him and who now try to come up with their own? The last one is the easiest but I think not the best.

[Lalaith]

Good points Noggie...as far as sticking Embla in a tent, I thought that being a lowly second wife she'd be put somewhere away from the cosy main couple, but if the rest of you would prefer us all under timber, then I'll happily edit. I'll edit the hunters to three, too.

[Nogrod]

I'll edit the hunters to three, too.Then again, if Kath wishes Bregr to be a loner, then Huntha and my character might be the two... :)

PS. I'll come up with the Bio at least later today... I hope to make the first post too, but lots of it hangs on what is decided here.

[Child of the 7th Age]

From Child's and Kath's posting one gets the impression that these people live in houses but Lalaith talks of Embla's tent where Khandr visits. So tents or houses? Khandr seems to be an important man enough that he could have been shown a built lodging or a luxury-tent for his temporary visit - which could include a desk as Child describes the place. But how about we three (Fordim, Kath & myself)? If we belong to the same party, shouldn't we at least live around?

Good points, Nogrod. I definitely envisioned my envoy staying in some kind of a solid building, whether a house or set of rooms, but can edit if needed to put him in a "luxury tent". I also agree that the hunters would likely be in tents.

Can I assume that Khandr would know the other hunters? (I think that would be good.) Perhaps Khandr can invite the hunters to a dinner party at some point in the story, and we can gossip about how difficult the Ulfangs have become of late!

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

For my part, I imagined Hunta as a tracker/hunter for the "hunting party"...you know, the guy of somewhat more humble origins who goes along with the aristrocrats to find game, flush it out and then help with the actual hunting/killing part.

For his part, Hunta is happy living in a house, in a tent or out in the open! He is, after all, a woodsman of the highest order.

[Nogrod]

So how about we "hunters" live in tents beside the building that has been given to Khandr and his wifes? (Kath surely must have her word on this) So we would have come to the Ulfing settlement with him... I like Child's idea about Khandr inviting us to share a meal in his place and to talk things straight!

I have already agreed with Child that my character will be Khandr's retainer. So he might live in a tent - not a small trekking tent but a nice one with rugs inside... I guess Huntha would be just nicely taken into this kind of party. One pair of arms more while travelling the unsafe countryside would be good and he seems to have his own "adventure-reasons" to join?

So what does Kath think? I think your character might be a friend of mine, even another retainer for Khandr? But surely we might handle another loner too... and if the situation gets more tense, we would have reasons to pull together as Borrim, even though we wouldn't all know each other so well beforehand?

[piosenniel]

Anguirel

Once Nogrod has his post on board, please leave me a list of of the order for First Posts by player name.

Thanks!

~*~ Pio

[Nogrod]

LINKED TO CHARACTER/PLAYER LIST ~*~ Pio

Okay. Here is my BIO. I'll try to come up with the first post but please do go on even without it. It will be here soon enough (I hope).

-------------
Nogrod's character


NAME: Fastarr

AGE: 35

RACE: Easterling (Borrim)

GENDER: male

WEAPONS: Fastarr’s favourite weapon is the heavy quarterstaff he carries with him all the time. It has decorated rings of bronze in the middle and sharpened iron tips on both ends. He also carries knuckle-dusters in his pockets. On his belt he wears a kind of half-scimitar (it’s longer than a normal knife but not as long as proper swords would be). That serves to him as a hunting knife, an everyday utensil and a defensive weapon in need. In his packages he also has a sturdy longbow and a quiver of 20 arrows for hunting.

APPEARANCE: Fastarr is the big guy on easterling standards. He’s a strongly built man topping 6’. Fastarr has a long dark brown hair that is tied to a ponytail with a leather band. Occasionally he will shave the beard from his cheeks but is very reluctant to touch his chinbeard which he braids with tin-ribbons. His face is somewhat round and gives out the impression that he is a lot younger than he actually is. He has dark brown eyes that usually look like they’re sleeping, but in anger or enthusiasm will lighten with fire. He wears a standard woollen tunic and light boots. For cold weather and warfare he also has a reindeer-skin jacket.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Fastarr is overtly loyal to the Borrim and highly suspicious of other people – not to say of other races. Amongst other Borrim he is relaxed and well-wishing. And good-hearted towards his companions he surely is. But towards others he is very reserved and in the worst case – if he thinks he or other Borrim are threathened or mocked – very quick-tempered indeed. Fastarr is not exactly the brightest guy around but when action is called for, he really knows what to do and how. He has a clear vision about what is right and wrong, what is good and bad. He acts on those principles without hesitation, even if some hesitation would have been called for in certain situations.

HISTORY: Fastarr’s family has long been renowned for the staunch warriors it has produced. To this Fastarr is no exception. When Khandr was in need of a new retainer or two, Fastarr was his choice. His father had had Fastarr’s uncle among his household in a similar fashion.

Fastarr had been tall and strongly built already from his childhood and very soon his father and cousins had started to teach him the different skills in arms. In the age of 13 he had won the local youth-masters in wrestling, some of his adversaries being almost 16 at the time. To his father’s disappointment he never became a fluent swordsman, but he loved the quarterstaff. With his reach he could safely knock out any opponent in his village with it and with his size he could outwrestle anyone managing to get too near for the staff to be useful.

At the age of twenty he fell in love with a Bairka-girl called Aud. The feeling was mutual and they were married the next summer with modest celebrations suitable to their social rank. They had twins the next winter, but the winter was exceptionally harsh and they both died before reaching three months of age. After that also the relationship between Fastarr and Aud cooled considerably. The next summer Fastarr saw Aud with a Bairka-man and hid that secret into his heart untill he met the very same man, Starkadr, at the harvest-party. There was no stopping him. Fastarr killed the man barehanded, banging his head to the floor until he was dead.

There were lots of talking and lots of rumours after the incident. Fastarr’s family paid Starkadr’s family a headmoney and Aud moved back to other Bairkas. From that on Fastarr sweared he would stay unmarried and commit himself to the duty of defending his villagers from the treachery of others.

It took almost ten years before he got an invitation to go and serve Khandr. Meanwhile he had cooled off considerably serving different smaller households and earning a reputation of a good man. He was not anymore a youth, but a man in his best age. That was six years ago to this day.

Now he had followed Khandr to the Ulfing settlement where he would negotiate some marriage-agreements. “Marriage...”, he thought to himself as they had at last gotten the Ulfing-village to their sight, “shouldn’t we all be happier without them?”


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

Nogrod's post


It was getting dark as Fastarr came back to his tent. He lit the greaselamp and took off the boots he had worn all day. The stench was bad enough. Slowly he streched out and dropped the boots between the first and second linen walls of the tent. Then he got up and took the lamp into the tent itself. Even though the rugs on the ground were thick they felt a bit cold to the feet. The spring seemed to have taken a few steps back.

Fastarr took a couple of the firewood and lit a small fire. Only after the fire started dancing did he took his belt and scimitar away. It was a bliss to be on one’s own after a busy day. The kettle he had put on the fire started hissing slowly, marking that something was happening but that there was no hurry whatsoever. Lazily he studied his stores to find some tea, honey and wine. Ah, the water is almost used. I should get some more. It’s easier to do it now than as a first thing in the morning... Well, not just now...

The water boiled. He added similar amount of wine into the water and waited for the right sound to emerge from the kettle. Then he put some leaves to his cup and carved a piece of solid honey to join them. As the wine-water was about to boil, he poured it over the leaves and honey and put them aside to steep. The sweet and comfortable fragrance spreaded all over the tent and took him over.

Fastarr laid on his back waiting for the tea. Why is Khandr still waiting? Can’t he see that this is not going to work? Too much power-play, too little love, I say. We should go home the first thing tomorrow. I should tell him that. And all these rumours, and the Ulfings in the first place... What do we do here? We should be with our own kin if something does happen, not here among strangers who wish us no good...

He was feeling so nice and lazy laying down on the rugs that had only started to warm up under his body that he had to really make an effort to sit back up again and take the tea before it would get cold. The air outside really felt chilling right now. But the cup happily was still hot and the scent of the drink filled his head. It was indeed hot enough to burn his mouth so he sipped it carefully, turning the cup around between his fingers as not to burn his hands. He could feel the warmth of the drink going down his throat all the way to his stomach. Life’s little luxuries this is... this surely is...

It surely had been a busy day. From the early morning onwards Fastarr had been on the move. First he had taken Khandr’s and his wifes horses to an outing in the surrounding countryside. They had made a good sport of it and the horses seemed to be happy with it, as usual. After the lunch he had walked around trying to hear what people were talking, making a few discussions with the locals himself too. That was not something he especially liked but he was told to do so and so he had to do it. There was lots of talk, lots of ranting and lots of just mere boasting. There was nothing he could report Khandr about, if not for the overall tension and talk of evil that clearly surpassed his taste in quantity as well as quality, even if it was just joking. Maybe it was just the way these Ulfings were?

In the afternoon Briga had asked him to join her on her way to the market and he had made her company. Even though it had ended him carrying all the stuff she had wished to buy, he liked Briga. She was a Borrim-lady of the house with all the qualities and good to her husband’s retainers. Fastarr had nothing to complain. But shopping with ladies were a lot of work.

The evening had went with a lengthy bargain with a local smith who was trying to take a preposterous payment for the little work of changing one of Hengst’s horseshoe and changing some worn parts of the bridles. He had actually managed to settle the dispute to a reasonable level but was more than angry afterwards. It was near he ran over a couple of kids that called him, the foreigner, names when he was getting down the street with Hengst towards their place.

But still he had had to take a tour on the local inns to hear the latest. There had been nothing new tonight. Just the usual gloating and whispering outside the hearing of the stranger. No one was friendly and Fastarr saw no reason to be friendly either.

The tea run out soon enough. Fastarr took the last draught of it and got slowly up. He went to his bed and draw the quilt over him. Different persons he had met today whirled through his mind. Embla... she was one of the Bairka, one of those who had turned his life into a misery a long time ago and now she was there everyday to remind him of it. And still it was unsettling to him. But it was not just hate he felt.

[Nogrod]

Here is at last my first post.

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

Moved to your Character Bio post.

~*~ Pio

[Durelin]

Sorry, but those Borrim names are making me crack up...though not in a bad way! Not at all! I just can't get the English words they (well, all but one, really) can sound like out of my head, and I find them very amusing...

So...excellent names! :D

[Nogrod]

Sorry, but those Borrim names are making me crack up...though not in a bad way! Not at all! I just can't get the English words they (well, all but one, really) can sound like out of my head, and I find them very amusing...

So...excellent names! :DNow as you said it, so Huntha is hunter in some dialect - and Fastarr is faster?

Oh, and Bergr is a burger? I hadn't noticed it! :D

Just try to read them in scandinavian way! Then they do not sound like that. :)

[Durelin]

I will certainly try! Though I can't guaruntee it will be a proper Scandinavian way. :D

[Nogrod]

Child: Hopefully, what I have said about Khandr and Briga in my history / first post are okay by you. If not, I'll change the things you think should be changed...

[Child of the 7th Age]

Nogrod...a really good job. Somehow, I don't think you'll get along very well with Embla!

[Rune Son of Bjarne]

yes good work, too good!

I just want to say that this is my first seriouse online Role Playing Game, save for a bit of posting in the Green Dragon. . . I am very exited to play with you guys, judging from your first posts you are all very talented, it is however a little intimidating as well.

Ehm yeah, hopefully I will stop being nervouse soon, so that I won't have as much trouble writting as I had with my first post.

[Folwren]

Take heart, Rune! My first game was played among some of the best players here. Pio and Arry were two that I played side by side the whole time, and I can tell you - it was intimidating at first, but it's all good. Everyone here's nice and I'm sure you'll do just fine.

-- Folwren

[piosenniel]

Bringing this forward


CHARACTER/PLAYER LIST


*Caranthir*, Prince of the Dispossessed Noldor (*CAMEO*, end of game) – Player Needed

Lachrandir (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=491782&postcount=47), Caranthir’s Envoy - Anguirel - a proud but essentially good-hearted Noldorin Elf, impressed despite himself by what he has seen of Easterling prowess. Can’t help being condescending.

Tathren (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=495239&postcount=158), Lachrandir's Page - Mithalwen

~*~

Ulfang (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=493788&postcount=139) - (born 400 FA – 71y/o) aging Ulfing chieftain (*CAMEO*) – CaptainofDespair

Ulfang's Sons:

Uldor (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=492896&postcount=114) - (born 425 FA – 46y/o ), the new power in the land – Folwren

Ulfast (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=492810&postcount=112) - (born 428 FA – 43y/o) – Celuien

Ulwarth (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=492896&postcount=114) - (born 430 FA – 41y/o) – Folwren (Carry-along character)

~*~

*Brodda (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=496258&postcount=186)* - Easterling chieftain (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brodda) under Morgoth's rule after the war (*CAMEO*) - CaptainofDespair

~*~

Ulfings

(Should be equal numbers of men and women. Ordinary Easterlings trying to survive in a hard world. Might be established families or recent immigrants.)

1.) Grímr & family (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=491876&postcount=54) - piosenniel (Father, Mother, 2 sons old enough to soldier, 2 younger children.)

-o-

2.) Anydor (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=491607&postcount=31), male - Volo
3.) Adbrandr (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=492656&postcount=105), male - Garen LiLorian
4.) Erling (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=494492&postcount=143), male - Rune Son of Bjarne
5.) Dag (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=493104&postcount=119), male - bill_n_sam

-o-

6.) Tora (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=492395&postcount=90), female - Dimturiel
7.) Dulaan (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=492487&postcount=103), female - Noinkling
8.) Gausen/Drenda (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=492722&postcount=109), female w/son - Anguirel

~*~

Borrim Hunters

(A party from the north, these Easterlings are not made to feel entirely welcome among the others. They would never consider a pact with Morgoth.)

1.) Khandr (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=492662&postcount=106), male - Child of the 7th Age
2.) Briga (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?
p=492662&postcount=106), female (minor character) - Child of the 7th Age
3.) Embla (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=493389&postcount=130), female - Lalaith
4.) Hunta (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=493372&postcount=128), male with a dog - Fordim Hedgethistle
5.) Bergr (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=492713&postcount=108), male - Kath
6.) Fastarr (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=496575&postcount=197), male - Nogrod

~*~

Thuringwethil (http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showpost.php?p=492476&postcount=100), Morgoth’s Spy - Durelin - Has the ear of Uldor

~*~

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


ANGUIREL

Please look at the First Posts and let me know what order you want them in - by Player name.

Thanks!

~*~ Pio

[Nogrod]

Somehow, I don't think you'll get along very well with Embla!That might be counted as a fact anyhow... :rolleyes:

We just discussed this briefly yesterday with Lalaith and decided that it should not be just a simple "I hate you because you do belong to a clan I despise" -thing, but it should be more complex, possibly involving people we both knew (Aud? Starkadr? others...?) or the two characters themselves. I just opened this gambit with the idea that Fastarr was thinking of her... in what way? Well that is not said yet. :p

We'll see how it develops...

[Anguirel]

My dear company of players,

I crave your indulgence on deciding your posts' order for a little while...expect detailed dispositions tomorrow. Dean Swift attacks from one side, and Chaucer from the other...

[Anguirel]

Right. Sorry I'm so late.

I haven't yet decided the order - though I am busy doing so, I promise, and will edit this post today with my decisions.

I do, however, have two points -

I had envisaged a much larger ratio of Ulfings to Borrim. To impress on our readers that this is an Ulfing settlement, I freely encourage everyone to make up Ulfing NPCs at a rate of knots.

And...Celuien, your post is a little tricksy, as it has that beautiful description of the stars which sets it the night before my first post for the game. Could you edit in a heading The night before the Envoy's arrival, or something similar?

Now, the order, which will be updated as it firms up -

[My post]
Celuien's post
Mith's post
Folwren's post
Durelin's post
Noinkling's post
pio's post
Rune's post (Rune, you haven't put in the scenic bit yet - please write it up or leave it out, whichever you prefer)
bill_n_sam's post
Dimturiel's post
Volo's post
Garen LiLorian's post
Child's post
Nogrod's post
Lalaith's post
Kath's post
Fordim's post
My post as Gausen and Drenda

There, I think that's it...actually, it wasn't, I forgot bill_n_sam, but everything's decided now.

[Celuien]

Could you edit in a heading The night before the Envoy's arrival, or something similar?
Can do. :)

Editing in a notice that I'll be away until Monday night because interview season is taking me out of town. See you then!

[piosenniel]

The posts will be on the game a little later today. I'm off to do a little holiday shopping. :)

~*~ Pio

[piosenniel]

The RPG is now open for play.


Reminders for an RPG in play:

Please remove your signature from EVERY post to the RPG thread - including SAVES


Don't use smileys in your RPG posts or icons - e.g., http://forum.barrowdowns.com/ubb/icons/icon8.gif http://www.forum.barrowdowns.com/images/icons/WhiteTree3.gif http://forum.barrowdowns.com/ubb/icons/icon14.gif etc.


Don't use the 'Reason for Editing' function on your RPG posts. If it's critical that other players know that you've changed something, then put a post on the Discussion Thread about your edit.


No OOC (out of character comments) on the RPG thread - use the Discussion Thread.


SAVES should be filled within 24 hours/48 at the latest and may be removed from the game at the discretion of the moderator.


Swearing, sexual conduct, or obscenity of any kind are absolutely prohibited. There are no exceptions.

. . . I always ask myself if any of these words or euphemisms for cursing would be found in Tolkien's works. So I always say no to cursing and to any 'pseudo-cursing'. They need to keep it clean. -- per The Barrow-Wight


Have fun!!!!!


~*~ Pio

[Nogrod]

I had envisaged a much larger ratio of Ulfings to Borrim. To impress on our readers that this is an Ulfing settlement, I freely encourage everyone to make up Ulfing NPCs at a rate of knots.Would you encourage us to bring forwards something like minor characters as well? Just ask people around, I'm the maniac for bringing in NPCs, but should we halt them as being NPCs or would you encourage us to make them minor characters? I mean both of the ways might do it and surely the storyline will propose some choises, but as a general point?

[Durelin]

Yep, he's crazy about those NPCs. :D

And I will be happy to take care of any you create that you want to get rid of... :smokin:

[Anguirel]

Nogrod,

Good question. Hmmm. Well...it depends how far things go. If you look at ATM 2, what has basically developed is each player running around with an entourage of NPCs. The results are hilarious, but rather out of hand from the game founder's point of view!

So...never let NPCs dominate too much. They're there to give a sense of a wider community. I wouldn't, for instance, get inside their heads except in a very unusual situation.

My lady Thuringwethil, it's very good to know you're at my service...!

[piosenniel]

About NPC’s and Minor Characters

Because this is a more formal RPG than the Assigned to Mordor/ATM games, all NPC’s and Minor Characters need to have a very brief Character Description done ( so the Moderator and the game players can refer back to them as needed).



NAME:

AGE:

RACE/GENDER:

APPEARANCE:

PERSONALITY:



Please, each of you, do keep track of any NPC’s or Minor Characters you create in a single post box and I’ll link it to the CHARACTER/PLAYER LIST.

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

Thanks!

~*~ Pio

[Child of the 7th Age]

If any of the townsfolk would like to deliver foodstuffs to prepare for the Borrim feast, it would be much appreciated. :D

[Noinkling]

piosenniel & Rune

I've left an open-ended question to both of your characters. :)

[Rune Son of Bjarne]

Thanks, I will give it a good look tomorrow. (a bit to late for me right now)

[Folwren]

Anguirel, do you want to play out the meeting between Ulfang and his sons and the two elves at the very beginning? I think that first introduction would be fun to write and important for the story.

-- Folwren

[Anguirel]

Well, I was planning on it, but it didn't really sync with the first posts as it turned out. Shall we write some posts and stick them in earlier?

[Folwren]

Whatever you think best. But that seems awkward. Which later posts are obviously after that? Does the time have to be exactly the same in all places?

[Anguirel]

Well, Mith's post ends at the entry to Ulfang's Hall and your Uldor post is after the elves and Ulfang have waited for half an hour...

We can solve this by filler posts that pio can insert between them or, I suppose, by a flashback. Or I could post a long post from Lachrandir's view now, from his entry to the arrival of Ulwarth and Uldor...

[Mithalwen]

Let me know if I have to edit ....

[Folwren]

Go ahead. I will pick up from wherever you leave off, or do whatever you ask me to do.

Is the Captain going to be able to post for Ulfang during this scene?

-- Folwren

[Nogrod]

Pio: I noticed that in your first post where the hunters come home you mention a hunter named Fastarr to have been on the hunt and present. Have we just bumped into the same name or had you something in mind?

I'm all for there being something like knowing people and having a scenario where to play that out, but then we should decide how they know each others and how that falls into the general plot of Borrim-hunters being kind of outsiders there... and we might come up with some timing-issues as I have kind of described my Fastarr's whole day (the day before the elves come in?) and it did not include a hunting trip with Grimr.

As I said I'm all for it, but surely there might just be two guys in a village sharing a name too.

What do you think?

[CaptainofDespair]

Go ahead. I will pick up from wherever you leave off, or do whatever you ask me to do.

Is the Captain going to be able to post for Ulfang during this scene?

-- Folwren

I am certainly able to post as Ulfang and, if needed, Brodda. I will keep my eye on the discussion thread and RPG thread to see when you need me.

[Folwren]

I am uncommon glad to hear it!

No doubt, you'll be needed fairly soon, actually. Anquirel will write his bit and then probably his character will hand the letter to you. Uldor will be most anxious to read it himself and fairly snatch it out of Ulfang's hand when he's through. (I've been thinking about that snatching of the letter since the very beginning...)

-- Folwren

[Rune Son of Bjarne]

Maybe I read something wrong, but it appears to me that Grimir is both in the town and in his house at the moment. . . atleast that is the impression I get from Fordim's and pio's posts.

[piosenniel]

Rune


Time is flowing a little loosely here at the beginning of the game

So . . . hmmm . . . let's do this:

Grimr's house/tent (I'm thinking something like a yurt here actually) is on the edge of the Easterner settlement. Let's assume that this incident

Indeed, as he walked along he heard some malicious folk taunting the man Grimr, asking him if he had ever seen a buck of the size and majesty brought in by barrakar. Hunta winced at the name but did not react.

happened just before Grimr's party reached the house. Grimr will have shrugged off the taunting most likely. Perhaps made some comment to bring some humor to the situation.

Rune, if you'd like, I'll write a short post for Grimr's two older sons as they enter the tent talking about the incident and their opinions on how they would have handled it.

Or . . . Erling can make some sort of comment about it.

What do you think?

~*~ Pio

[Rune Son of Bjarne]

It is not necisarry, I just wanted to make sure I did not make a mistake when writing my post. It would be pretty weird if I start talking to a person who was not in the room. . .

If you feel like writing a passage about it, it is fine by me, but I am good either way.

[piosenniel]

Go ahead! :)

~*~ Pio

[bill_n_sam]

I have some general questions

- are we calling the place where the Ulfings live a village or is there some other term?

- can we take a stab at how many people live there - are we talking 100 or 1000? And would there be other settlements near or far or only farmsteads, or individual abodes? I'm just trying to get a sense of the importance of this particular "place" to the Ulfing "tribe/clan" (?) as a whole

- would most of the people in the "village" be aware of the elves arrival, pretty much as soon as they show up? would the common folk be aware of why the elves are there? would the common folk be aware of Ulfang's earlier pledge of support to the elves?

I hope I'm not covering ground that has already been addressed but I don't recall having read anything exactly about these issues.

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

Rune


Time is flowing a little loosely here at the beginning of the game

So . . . hmmm . . . let's do this:

Grimr's house/tent (I'm thinking something like a yurt here actually) is on the edge of the Easterner settlement. Let's assume that this incident



happened just before Grimr's party reached the house. Grimr will have shrugged off the taunting most likely. Perhaps made some comment to bring some humor to the situation.

Rune, if you'd like, I'll write a short post for Grimr's two older sons as they enter the tent talking about the incident and their opinions on how they would have handled it.

Or . . . Erling can make some sort of comment about it.

What do you think?

~*~ Pio

Sorry if I caused problems. I tried to keep the reference really non-specific as I was also unclear about the timeline here -- is it even day or night at the moment?? The only reason for the reference to Grimr was to establish some sense of the connections between Borrim and Ulfings -- they are aware of each other, but not really on speaking terms.

[Rune Son of Bjarne]

I think it is just me that confuse easily. . .

So no worries Fordim

[Anguirel]

Some answers...

The town - for it is more town than village - is large but rustic and "barbaric", hardly prosperous, but maybe room for a few markets and traders. I would estimate its population at about 10,000, about the size of mediaeval London. Many more Ulfings live outside it in smaller villages and farmsteads, with a total population not far short, in my mind, of a million. Of these, Lachrandir has been required, as it stands, to recruit seven thousand able-bodied warriors.

The town is simply known as "Ulfang's Settlement" or "Ulfang's Capital" - appropriately pragmatic and avoiding canon issues, I hope.

People would be aware that they lived under the protection of and at the service of the Elves - specifically Caranthir - though few will have seen Elves often. News of the envoys' arrival will travel vast.

And last but not least, it is coming up to late morning.

I'm glad to be asked questions like this; makes things clearer in my mind as well as yours...

[Anguirel]

pio, I love the way we contradictorily answered at the same time...

Main points of conflict - size and nature of the settlement. I was thinking, how are 7000 men to be recruited if the centre is a village of a few hundred? But pio, your reference to the Atlas is helpful. Shall we compromise...?

The time...pio is right to point out about the hunters in the late afternoon...but I think I said the envoys arrived in the morning? Argh. No matter, some time may have elapsed, let it be afternoon indeed.

Ho hum!

EDIT: Alas, pio, there was no need to vanish your post...I liked it a lot...I shall summarise its contents as best I remember

-Small settlement
-Late afternoon
-News travels quickly
-Ulfings have settled only for 15 years
-Probably rather fewer Ulfing sin general than I envisaged

[Folwren]

My dear Anguirel,

Are you planning on filling your save any time soon? I can't tell you how impatient I am to begin writing. Please write it soon?

-- Folwren

[Child of the 7th Age]

bill-n-sam and the Borrim posters,

Thanks for that great post and future "latch" re the Borrim feast.

I hope it's alright if I mentioned inviting the Borrim for a meal, since we'd briefly discussed it on the thread. I purposely made it the next day to let people establish their characters other ways first.

Later this weekend, I will do a very brief post with a NPC -- not a minor character but just an anonymous servant --where the invitations are dropped off at the various tents and give the text of the message.

[Anguirel]

Folwren,

Done but I think perhaps CoD should post before you do...though Ulwarth is in the room and you can play through him if you like.

V. sorry about the wait, by the way...

[Folwren]

Alrighty! Great. That's fine - I figured that the Captain had to post before me. I look forward to his post with excitement.

-- Foley

[CaptainofDespair]

I have posted for Ulfang. If there need to be any changes (perhaps he's a little too crazy?), let me know and I'll make them as soon as possible.

--CoD

[Folwren]

Captain and Anguirel, I don't know if I can't post even now. Ulwarth does not leave for Uldor until he is told to go look for him, or something. The letter hasn't even been introduced. So, I'm still going to wait.

-- Folwren

[Nogrod]

I do apologise for a bit too much werewolfing that I have been doing lately. Somehow it takes one's time quite comprehensively if one is to perform his RL duties at the same time. But it will be easier on both fronts from now on and I can come back to this.

Just a few questions after skimming through the threads.

As my initial post was describing a late evening it should be what, last evening (the evening before the emissaries arrived and I would go on posting from the current day onwards now) or this evening (so my next post should be looking back to the day that is current in the game)?

Child/Khandr called us three to his table "tomorrow". Could it be "today"? Otherwise we must just try to fix something for our characters for a pretty long time (RL) as the negotiations between the Ulfing leaders and the elven emissaries will surely take some space and time?

And if I need to come up with something for Fastarr to do for a whole day, would Kath or Fordim be interested to share this day with me? So maybe Fastarr, Huntha and Bergr would do something together (or some of them could)? Or would master Khandr or Briga have something for the good retainer to perform?

[Child of the 7th Age]

Nogrod,

I'll be glad to make the invitation to dinner tonight. I just wanted to make sure that everyone had time to play out any opening scenes for their character they already had in their head.

I know Lailath and I are doing some posts relating to the delivery of the goat meat but other than that and delivering the invitations, I had nothing specific planned.

Do the other Borrim want their invitations to be for dinner tonight (game time)? Please give me some feedback and I'll gladly edit.

[bill_n_sam]

Child and Lalaith,

I received your PMs so I went ahead and posted. So you two can duke it out a little :eek: and then send Gunna off with whatever you decide. BTW, it's goat cheese not meat (I musta had feta on the brain :rolleyes: ) not that it really matters.
BS

[Child of the 7th Age]

Thanks, bill_n_sam. My mistake above. The doctor has temporarily put my husband on a vegetarian diet, and it seems all we can think about are slabs of meat. :eek:

[Anguirel]

Folwren and CoD,

Can I get permission to manipulate your characters a wee bit in my next post?

Lachrandir will state the basic terms of his mission, but not yet hand over the letter.

I'd like to make Ulfang hedge around for a while and then finally admit he's unwilling to proceed further without Uldor present. Ulwarth will then be sent out to get him.

I don't want to bring out the letter itself yet because it's quite major, and I'd like Uldor to be present when it's at last read by Ulfang.

I'll put up a save to this effect.

[Anguirel]

Fordim, you described Gausen as an "old woman". This is not quite accurate...she is a haggardish widow, but only in her late thirties. But I suppose it could reflect Hunta's attitude.

Mith and Celuien, your characters are also involved in the negotiations in the Hall...feel free to post from their points of view.

[bill_n_sam]

The doctor has temporarily put my husband on a vegetarian diet, and it seems all we can think about are slabs of meat. :eek:

That's funny! I know what you mean though. In my family there has been a vegetarian for the past three years and twice I've tried to be one too (and both times fallen off the wagon with a resounding thud!
:rolleyes: ) So I understand how meat, especially the smell of barbeque or roast, can become quite distracting :D

I will probably not be around again until the weekend. I hope everyone who celebrates it has a good Thanksgiving!