[Envinyatar]

Character Description Form:

Have you ever played in an RPG at the Barrow Downs? – YES - Which one? The Long Winter; Search for the Lost Messenger; Holiday in the Sun; Escape from Nurn

Have you posted in The Green Dragon Inn or in The White Horse in Rohan? – YES – Which one? Both

For your character please include:

NAME: Gaeradan

AGE: 55

RACE: Man (Dúnadan, of the line of Anárion so it is rumoured, a descendent of one of his unnamed children.)

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: Broadsword and long-knife

APPEARANCE: Tall, trim, well muscled, not bulky. Hair dark black, eyes grey. Neatly trimmed mustache and short beard. Given to wearing dark colors. Dresses to suit the occasion so that he might blend in seamlessly and unnoticed.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES:

He is a reserved, quiet man with an air of easy self confidence and approachability that attracts people, leaving them open at times to being lulled into a certain sense of security when around him. He has a keen eye to the weaknesses of others. A quick thinker in situations which require it, he prefers having the leisure of time enough to work through problems in his normal, detailed manner.

Gaeradan is fiercely devoted to Tarannon, with whom he has served at sea, and to Gondor. He has often put the concerns and wants of his King above that which he thinks might be best for Gondor, but now he is struggling with the fact that he believes Tarannon chose his Queen unwisely, and that the choice may yet prove gravely perilous to Gondor. Aside from the fact that she will never bear an heir for Gondor, he believes that she is now actively engaged in something which imperils both his King and country. He wishes to have her put aside, and is carefully maneuvering the King’s own inclinations in that area.

He has sent word out through his own network of informants that he desires any news great or small concerning the Queen and her activities.


HISTORY:

He grew up at court, a friend to Tarciryan, Tarannon’s younger brother. Gaeradan’s father served the former King, Siriondil as an advisor, during his long and peaceful reign.

At the age of eighteen, Gaeradan joined the crew of The Eagle of Gondor, under the command of Tarannon, who was then serving as his father’s Captain of the Hosts. Fighting alongside him in the battles in the regions near the mouths of the Anduin, Gaeradan grew to admire the man who would one day take the throne of Gondor. Tarannon, for his part, grew to rely on the clear thinking and straight forward advice this younger man offered. A friendship grew between the two men, and when Tarannon took his position as King, he asked that Gaeradan stay by his side.
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First Post

The door to his study was slightly ajar. 'Strange,' he thought, his brow furrowing. 'I'm certain that I closed it as I always do.' Gaeradan drew nearer and leaned in close to the opening, his senses alert for any sounds within. It was quiet, not even the sound of a breeze through the small leaded window rustling over the papers on his desk. Ominously quiet. A palpable silence that made the hairs at the back of his neck stand up.

‘What is wrong with me today?’ he murmured to himself, his hand sliding to the knife at his belt. He had been uneasy all day, a feeling of being watched prickling at the edges of his mind.

Gaeradan nudged open the door with his foot. The light from the window fell in a bright bar across the room, puddling on the braided rug in front of the room’s small fireplace. Dust motes danced in the light, stirred up by the passage of the door as it arced open. He stepped in and looked carefully about, his eyes sweeping the room for anything out of order. He found nothing amiss.

He let out the breath he’d been holding with a relieved sigh. ‘Spooked my self,’ he said aloud, shrugging his shoulders as if to twitch off the feelings that had chilled him just moments before. Assured, he unlocked the drawer in the desk and removed a sheaf of papers bound with a blue cord and bearing the seal of the King. Directives to his captains concerning the next phase of his campaign.

Gaeradan closed the window above his desk and turned to leave the room. His eyes caught a movement near the door as a plump black cat jumped from the floor to the straight-backed chair that served as a catchall for his cloak and what ever other oddment he found in his hands as he entered his study. The cat's green-gold eyes regarded him coolly as he looked toward it.

Without thinking he strode to the door, and picked up the cat to set it outside as he left. Indignant, or perhaps simply ill tempered, the cat protested the eviction. Wriggling in the confines of Gaeradan’s free arm, she hissed and squirmed, scratching his hand until he dropped her in disgust.

Sucking at the bloody scratches, he cursed silently at her dark retreating form. ‘Berúthiel!’ he hissed, hurrying down the long hallway to the conference room.

Behind the large potted palm in the hallway, in the shadows it made against the stonework wall, another pair of green-gold eyes stared out, noting with interest where he was bound.

[ June 29, 2003: Message edited by: Envinyatar ]