[Imladris]

Hi! I hope that this is suitable:

Name -- Jinan

Race -- Haradrim

Age -- 21

Appearance -- Jinan has dark brown skin, shoulder length black hair that is allowed to hang loose, and wiry muscles. He is fairly short, no more than five and a half feet, but his proud words more than make up for that. He likes to wear loose clothing, and is often seen with a scarlet sash about his waste. In his right ear there are three golden earrings: one on the lobe, one in the middle, and one at the top. On his second finger of his right hand he bears a heavy ring with the seal of his father upon it. A wooden bow is slung across his back while an ornate dagger hangs from his side.

History -- He has not had much chance to make a history for himself. His father was a rich and influential personage in Harad and had Jinan began his training in arms early in life. When he was young his mother died, and he learned to hang around the older men, copying the older men in speech and actions. It was during this period that he developed a passion for the bow and arrows. The other weapons did not interest him, so he spent his time developing his skill with the weapon.

Personality -- Frankly, Jinan is a pain in the neck. He is proud, arrogant, and thinks he knows everything there is to know. Hidden under his somewhat pleasant face, is a cold cruelty that lashes out at the slightest provocation. He is not vain, and has a disgust for those who are. Overly confident, he is eager to make his way through the ranks of the army, and will do anything in his power to do so. He now regrets his foolishness in not acquiring more skill with other weapons of warfare, and it is a sting to him that he cannot handle a sword or a dagger as well another. He is impatient that Harad has not conquered Gondor before this, and he wishes that he can soon can join the forces against them and crush them into oblivion.
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First Post

Jinan swaggered down the dirt road of the outpost of the Harnen Crossing, kicking at tufts of dying weeds ( As if it could be called a road , he thought, remembering the mighty cities of Harad). Dust clung to the golden fringe that lined his scarlet sash, and his black leather boots were scuffed from hard traveling. A simple wooden bow was slung across his back, while his hand rested casually upon a gem studded dagger.

Another man passed him, paused, scrutinized him and called out eagerly, “Jinan, good friend of mine!”

The lad paused in mid-stride, and turned to looked at the man who so called out to him. He was but a few years older than Jinan, and was a shipmate upon a corsair vessel. A friend I am to you, but you are no friend of mine , he thought, resentfully remembering old rivalries of the past. A toothless smile carved itself upon Jinan’s face and he said, “How goes it with you…friend…well or ill?”

“Ill,” the corsair said glumly as he shook a leather pouch absently. The faint tinkle of coins reached Jinan’s ear.

“Monetary troubles I take it. I’ve always said you shouldn’t gamble,” Jinan said evenly, eyeing the money bag with a cocked eyebrow.

“I hear ye’re in the army,” the man said, hastily changing the subject and hooking the bag onto his belt. “I also hear rumours that you can’t fight worth beings and that you’re only in because of your father’s money,” the man added with a leer.

The smile vanished from Jinan’s face. It was true that he could not handle a dagger well, but naturally the rumours had ignored his skills with a bow and arrows. “Don’t believe everything you hear, friend,” Jinan said coldly, patting the corsair upon the shoulder. “Until we meet again.” It was the only possible way to get rid of the fellow politely.

With a farewell nod, the corsair continued on his way, leaving Jinan behind. A soft chuckle escaped him as he tossed the bag of money in his hand. Slipping the dagger back into its sheath, he whispered, “No skill with a dagger, eh? Obviously enough to relieve you of your money.” He grinned as he imagined the shock and horror when the corsair discovered his money gone and his inability to pay his debts. “Never trust to rumours, friend.”

Tossing the bag at the feet of some passing priests, Jinan made his way to the young captain of his brigade. Entering the headquarters, he paused when the captian said absently, “We’re transferring you, Jinan. There is going to be a small expedition against the Poros to drive the Gondorians away --”

The voice of the officer droned on, while Jinan’s face broke into a wide grin. An attack upon Gondor! Finally the rats would know who was master. They transferring him which naturally meant that he would be the captain of the expedition and…

“…and you will be under the command of a Lieutenant Lan’kâsh.”

Jinan’s jaw dropped slightly and he shook his head, his black hair falling into his eyes. “You mean, I’m not going to lead this attack?” he asked with a forced laugh.

“Responsibility must be earned, not given,” the captian said. “You’ll find him at the building over looking the river.”

Jinan stumbled through the door, his thoughts a surging turmoil of anger and confusion. Turning, his brows meeting in a jagged frown, he glowered at the captain’s office. Obviously the captain didn’t know quality when he saw it. With a snort, he swung upon his heel and soon found the building. Climbing the wooden balcony, he saw Lan’kâsh sipping a bit of tea and nibbling at some fruit. So this was the lieutenant who was to command him. This thin distant man who probably didn’t even know the word battle. As Jinan stared at him and Lan’kâsh lifted his eyes into those of the younger man’s, a chill passed through him.

Shaking himself, Jinan said, “I have been transferred to your authority, sir.” Putting his own thoughts of resentment behind him, he flashed a toothless smile at the man who was to be his superior officer.