[piosenniel]

DEDICATED CHARACTER

2.) Amanaduial - The Southron Captain of the Dol Guldur Special Forces

Name: Koran Cenrbyt.

AGE: Around thirty.

RACE: Haradrim.

GENDER: Male.

WEAPONS: Koran can work well with the bow and arrow, or with a crossbow, and carries a smaller crossbow with him - it is about two thirds of his arm. However, close combat weapons are more practical: he is very profficient with a one handed sword, which is more nimble and light than a broadsword. The sword he carries is not particularly fine, fairly plain: the blade is about 80cm long, five centimetres across, and does not bear any special inscriptions or runes; the handle is carefully bound, wound leather and the pommel, the only decorative part of the sword, is a metal disc, rimmed around the outside and carved with a fire motif in the centre - the stigma of Koran's clan, the Cenbryts. However, despite its plainess, the sword is well-balanced and excellent to fight with, and fight well he does: Koran has used this sword since he was twenty five or so. It is fairly plain because although a weapon can save your life, he knows that it is not worth getting attached to an inanimate weapon - although the the careful binding and the way the blade is always perfectly sharp bear witness to the fact that he knows the sense in taking care of it. However, such dullness of deisgn does not extend to his other special weapon: a blade about the length of his forearm and hand together, slanting to a point all the way along. It is rather too short to be a sword, but too long to be a dagger or knife, so rests somewhere in between. The blade is made of some far finer material and the hilt, it has been said by several others, is silver: it is metal rather than leather, but fits perfectly into Koran's hand from use. The pommel is a stone the size of the ball of your thumb, bound over the top and sides with leather, which is a strange, dangerous, smoky red. Koran fights excellently with both of the two close combat weapons, sometimes simultaneously. He never lets the smaller blade away from him.

APPEARANCE: Koran is typically dark, like most of his people - his almost black hair is kept short, although it curls a little at the nape is his neck and around the bottom of his ears. His dark eyes are quite narrow from a life in the sun, and seem naturally hard and cynical, although hardness is not all they can show. His skin is quite sallow, tanned from the sun, and firm, a strong jaw and fine cheeks making him quite good looking, charismatic. However, one side of his face is marred: a slanted scar runs from across the middle of one cheek, slanting down from the top of his left ear to about an inch to the side of his left nostril. He is quite tall, standing at about 5 ft 11, and is not built very chunkily: rather, his build is athletic, slim but very, very well-muscled, and although he is slim, it would probably be fatal to underestimate his strength and speed. Besides, his shirt is usually left open at the neck to about 10cm below the centre of his collar bone, the sleeves rolled up to the elbows and is usually a dirty white colour. At his neck he wears a traditional, simple brown bead necklace with the crest of the Cenbryts on the centre bead again. On his right (sword) arm, visible because of the usually rolled-up sleeves, is a black tattoo of the Cenbryt flame. Over the shirt he wears a leather jerkin, again usually open, and if it is particularly cold he will wear a black, rather stained leather coat over this. Leather riding boots are worn to the knee over dark trousers.

PERSONALITY: Not naturally fiery, Koran nonetheless has a volcanic temper on him when the need arises, such as in the incident with Vlad (see History). He resents being thrown around or stepped upon, and when his fighting prowess is so high, he won’t stand for it. His skills are quite well known, gaining him enemies and allies, although he has as yet no wife or life-partner – he spends much time fighting away, a lifestyle that suits him very well, and his focus makes it difficult for other things. However, Koran is prone to dreaming and thinking deeply when he has spare time – he is not unloving although those who do not know him might think him cold. However, his close friends and those he has fought with know him well enough and would trust him with their lives in battle and in life (provided clan-feuds are not involved). His reputation has not made him overly cocky, as he knows that carelessness can cost much – for example, arrogance and cockiness in a fight once nearly cost him his sight, as can be seen from the long cut across one cheek, marring his good looks. He is naturally quite charismatic and once well known is good company – however, to get on his bad side is a fatal mistake. He is not altogether pleased to be on this mission and, as he is far from stupid, knows exactly why his cousins manipulated him into it – however, he is from a proud line, and would not let anyone know his feelings about this.

HISTORY: Although his relatively young age might make it seem strange, Koran is the head of his clan – this could be guessed from the carved necklace and sword-pommel, and also from the tattoo of his clan’s stigma on his sword arm, mandatory for the leader of the tribe. Koran’s family have always been a fighting one, but have sustained great losses more recently: his father, the then-head of the tribe, died when Koran was twelve or thirteen. He was one of six, four brothers and two sisters. Koran was third in line to become head of the tribe and had no real wish to become head, as it is a tying and dutiful job despite the rewards, and he could have lived as he wished more easily without the title. But, one by one, his two elder brothers and his one younger brother, along with one sister, fell in battle, and the title fell to Koran when he was twenty five years old. By this time, however, he already had a reputation, of a sort – he fought and rode well, had done since he was in his mid-teens.

When he was younger, from about the age of fifteen, he worked in a small group of youths around his age to scout out villages or settlements for raids or ahead of a larger group. However, this group had a very set hierarchy, and Koran fell foul of the oldest boy, a fiery-headed loudmouth nineteen year old called Vlad, more than once. Vlad took pleasure in beating the younger boys, but when Koran was seventeen, he got into a full fight with the older boy, then twenty one, and told him exactly what he thought of him – Vlad lost an eye in the fight, but Koran did not get away without a fight, and bears a long scar from the side of his ribcage to the opposite hip still, a faded white line. Although he was beaten for his trouble, Koran was admired for it, and, now the head of the group, he won admiration from many…but was not, of course, without enemies.

His two cousins, Ferach and Cortim, are two of the most notable of these – after Koran, the last son of his family, dies, they will be in line to inherit leadership of the Cenbryts. They are therefore fairly keen to get rid of their young cousin – and their influence was the main reason he is now leading the group in Mirkwood. His cousins sent him saying it was only proper that the head of one of the most affluent (hardly!) clans was sent, as a note of morale – and they very much doubt they will ever see him again.

~*~

Amanaduial’s post

Koran Cenbryt brushed at a curl of dark hair that crept from behind his ear as he leant over his pack, checking for anything he may have forgotten and running over in his head the route that the army would take. West verging a little South from the North side of the fortress, towards the Wood of Golden Leaves, where...

This was not by any means the first expedition he had been on, and neither was it one that he especially wished to be involved with; but, ironically, it was the one that would probably be most important in the future. The young Haradrim warrior shook his head wryly at the thought, his hand reaching to the beaded necklace he wore, feeling the delicate carving of the flame on the central bead. ’I won’t let anything go wrong…the Cenbryt clan is mine, mine by right, and so it shall remain, no matter what my cousins plot and scheme together…

Koran was not against the rest of the clans, of course: such a thought would be foolhardy, especially when his was waning so much, especially in the last few weeks and months – his cousins, although set to gain his clan for their own, were nonetheless slowly eliminating by sending off on foolhardy missions many of the older warriors who were close to Koran. At this rate, if Koran as to fall, they would inherit a clan without any warriors left! Still, although it was of course a diplomatic move that he saw the sense in, Koran nonetheless felt uneasy about the mission – there was something not right, something that was being hidden from him in all this, even though he was commanding the separate force that would then split off from the main army. That would, of course, include orcs – he curled a lip slightly at this. He detested working with them – he steadfastly believed beetles to have more intelligence than the filthy Uruks. And when he was actually meant to be commanding as an equal with one of them…he shook his head again bitterly. If my brothers were still alive…

“Koran Cenbryt?” The words made the warrior look up to see a younger man standing nearby, at a respectful distance. He rose from his crouch to be level with him, squinting against the sun from the high outpost. The man looked to be several years younger than Koran, and had a surprisingly boyish face, although it was currently all seriousness. As Koran rose, wiping one hand on the back of his trousers, the younger man touched the back of two knuckles of his right hand to the centre of his forehead - a respectful salute. Koran inclined his head - the man was obviously not his superior then, although he still didn't know who he was.

"I am Ehan Fazian," the man continued by means of an introduction. "I will be joining you in the force that splits off from the main army and we will, I gather, be together for most of the journey."

Koran nodded again. "Koran Cenbryt," he added, just to introduce himself personally, although the other obviously knew who he was. Ehan grinned suddenly. "Not a man of very many words, hmm?"

Koran, surprised at the casual tone and phrasing, raised an eyebrow, and the other man raised his chin very slightly, defiant if it came to it. Then he grinned. "If we are to fight together, you may think differently by the end," he replied, his voice soft but more friendly now. "Come, we must join the rest of the force - I suppose you know the route already?"