[Hama Of The Riddermark]

Application for Bloodtsained Elanor

Mirkwood Scout

1.) Have you ever played in an RPG at the Barrow Downs? – YES Which one? Legacy Of Traitors

2.) How many RPG’s on the Barrow Downs are you currently involved in? One

List them, please: Last Ride of the Heir

Please note you may play in only 2 (TWO) Shire games at one time. Exceptions to this may be made for this on a case by case basis by the Shire Moderators. (The Green Dragon Inn DOES NOT count as a game for this.)


3.) Have you posted in The Green Dragon Inn – YES

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For your character please include:

NAME: Lómarandil

AGE: 223

RACE: Elf

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: An elvish longbow with intricate carved designs, a quivver of leaf fletched arrows, two short bone-handled elvish knives.

APPEARANCE: Tall, almost 6'4'' with chest length flowing blond hair. Grey eyes, and often a wicked grin on his face. His face is narrow, with a reasonably pointed chin, and he is slender yet lean in build, with deceptively strong arms and legs. He often hides his face under his hood and scarf. He wears almost no armour, with leather bracers on his lower arms, and leather greaves. He wears a gold-chained necklace at all times, inset with a ruby and an expertly crafted pendant. His green cloak is held in place with a silver pin with a leaf design on it.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: He is often arrogant, unwilling to admit that an enemy is skilled, but fiercely defensive of all that he holds dear. He is an excellent knife fighter, although he prefers to use his bow whenever possible. He is most dangerous when he is angry, as he will fight without regard for his own safety, often fighting until his enemy is dead, no matter where that leaves him. He is also spectacularly aware of his surroundings, and is quick to spot potential ambush spots, cover and defensive positions. He is constantly pensive, although he laughs a lot, more as a defense mechanism. He gets angry quickly, but it is also quick to abate and he rarely holds grudge againt others. Always willing to do anything to help anyone else.

HISTORY: Young for an elf, born in 2796, he quickly learnt how to use a bow, and he was always cheerful. When his mother and father were killed by orc scouts while walking deep in mirkwood, he vowed revenge, despite the fact he was barely adolescent. He trained himself how to fight with knives, practising on wheat sheafs and with his older brothers. When he had come of age he became a scout for the elf king of Mirkwood. His early years were uneventful, being that he was a fresh scout, and he was told to stay near the back by the more experienced elves. Eventually he was allowed to help on a scout patrol to a site of rumoured orcish activity, and soon became respected due to his nerve and skill. He always wished no more than to serve for his land, and to destroy the orc menace and he has performed to that, and only to that. His arrogance became noticable, and he was soon fighting more as a sport. Only recently did he decide that a concerted effort was needed, and since that day has not wavered once.

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Hama of the Riddermark's post

Lómarandil was hidden under a carpet of leaves. Seeing Calenvása raise his hand, he slid backwards slowly and crawled on his stomach out of earshot of the orcs, then he stood up to a crouch and ran as fast as he could, his light elvish feet making little imprint on the leaves and twigs beneath. Reaching a clearing he sheathed his two knives that he had kept drawn since the orcs had been sighted. He kicked a tree in disgust, “Foul creatures! Utterly worthless hunks of meat!” he spat the last word out with bitterness as he turned to face Dol Guldur. “Damn Morgoth to the deepest pits of misery for creating them!” he said with a sad look on his face.

He sat down and took his bow off his back. He took out a knife and began to carve a design onto it. He smiled as he saw all the others he'd carved over the years. This time he cut out the shape of an orc, incredibly detailed, and carved an arrow going through its head. Chuckling he stared into the woods. He heard a faint crunching sound, like a clumsy foot breaking a twig...

Lomarandil was gone in a flash, up a tree. He looked over and saw an orc, closely followed by two others. Lomarandil smiled as he heard them start to talk, listening intently for any more information.

"Bloody trees!" he heard the orc say, "I hate them, I hate elves as well...stupid bloody animals." Lomarandil couldn't supress a grin as he heard the orc say this. He raised a single eyebrow in mirth, as the orcs continued to talk.

"We gotta stay 'ere for a while." a second orc said. "Them elves mustn't know that we aren't attacking them here." a second orc grunted loudly, "Yar, stoopid elvish tarks can't know we goin' for tha' uther wood, tha' big one!" he said, obviosuly pleased with himself for making this deduction. Lomadrandil nodded slowly. "They are heading for Lothlorien..." he said quietly...

"Hur?" he heard an orc say, "I heard something, stoopid tarks hiding in trees..." he looked up and started to turn in a circle, scanning the treetops for the elf he'd heard. Failing to find him, he grunted loudly and turned back, shouting at the others to follow. Lomarandil breathed out heavily. That was close...he dropped to the ground when he was sure the orcs had gone. Silently he made his way to the designated meeting place, as he entered the clearing he saw the others. "Mae govannan." Calenvasa announced. Lomarandil nodded and walked up to the group...