Quote:
Now who wants to fall in love with me? 
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I'm afraid that's not possible...
...everyone is already in love with you, m'dear.
lmp- I took your advice about revealing my character's full history. I won't do it until the game is in full swing.
Character Description Form:
1.) Have you ever played in an RPG at the Barrow Downs? – YES/NO - Which one? I'm not sure. Do the birthday parties count? I know There was one in 2003, I believe, that was in one of the RPG sections. Does that officially make it RPG?
2.) How many RPG’s on the Barrow Downs are you currently involved in? None.
3.) Have you posted in The Green Dragon Inn – YES/NO Yes
For your character please include:
NAME: Mardil II
AGE: 23
RACE: Human
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.): Mardil loves weapons. He carries a spear in his hands and a bow and a light sword across his back. He also loves throwing knives, and has a huge assortment of them across his chest, in his belt, in holsters on his legs, and even a couple in his boots. Mardil also carries various poisons, some of which are made for poisoning food and drinks, and others for coating his throwing knives.
APPEARANCE: Mardil has a lean athletic build with a height slightly less than average. He has blue eyes, and long, dirty-blonde hair.
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): Mardil is extremely smart and is charming when he needs to be and has many talents, which causes him to think an awful lot of himself. He fancies himself as the best all-around human in the world. But, this belief results in an extreme fear of failure, since, of course, the best in the world should never fail.
Mardil is scared to death of performing poorly on anything, therefore he tends to be lazy and do nothing at all, unless there is no risk involved. When he does do something, he purposefully does not give his best effort, and makes sure that everyone else can tell. That way, if he fails he can use the excuse that he wasn't trying. But he seldom has to use that excuse. His less than best effort is usually good enough to succeed.
Mardil, though he loves weapons, is a bit of a coward when it comes to fighting (which there is a lot of in Mordor). He avoids fights at all costs, even if he thinks he will for sure win. He does this because he is afraid of not only dying, but of being harmed. He very much dislikes uncomfortable things like cuts and scratches, and considers a battle a loss if he receives so much as a sprained pinky.
When he is forced to fight, though he is fairly strong, he does not rely on strength to win because other fighters are often larger than him. He relies on his fantastic speed/agility/reflexes and weapons skills to overcome his foes. His preferred method is to strike surprise blows. For instance, he will agree to duel his opponent using swords, and then as soon as the fight begins Mardil will fling a poisoned throwing dagger into his opponent's foot. In other words, he is more than willing to cheat.
About the only time Mardil does not act cowardly is when he is trying to reel in a beautiful young lady. One time he challenged three trolls to a fight in order to earn some alone time with a fair maiden.
Mardil is often abrasive, and doesn't worry about sparing people's feelings when he talks. At times, he will purposefully stir up bad feelings and arguments just for entertainment.
And yes, I know what you are thinking- a cheating, egotistical, womanizing, mean, coward?! This Mardil is a horrible person! But that is simply not true (well, not entirely true at any rate). Mardil used to be better- before Mordor.
The pre-Mordor Mardil was wonderful to be around. He enjoyed making others laugh and liked to toss out compliments to nearly everyone. He was an engaging speaker, and did not have a difficult time convincing people to see things his way.
He also had a special soft spot for children. He loved to play games with them, but he especially loved to teach them things. He derived great satisfaction from imparting knowledge to others.
But that Mardil has been gone for several years.
HISTORY: According to his records, Mardil was officially assigned to Mordor for "quoting Yoda", but when asked about it he denies ever having done it. He won't say why he believes he was sent.
No one knows anything about Mardil- except his two "guards", Gundor and Bregor. The two men, both middle-aged, guard Mardil's tent, do all of his tasks for him, and refer to him as Milord or Master. However, the two men bite their tongues when asked about Mardil, and so no one has learned what they know about him. Mardil's speech, pronunciation, and mannerisms peg him as a member of the upper class of Gondor, but that is about all anyone can guess.
He was sent to Mordor when he was eighteen. Gundor and Bregor joined him one month later. Two years after arriving, Mardil was summoned by the Grand Anakronist and given a letter from outside Mordor. No one knows who it was from or what information it contained. Mardil claimed it was nothing, but he was obviously lying, for that is when his behavior took a sudden turn for the worse. He had always been capable of cutting remarks and made them now and then when he thought they were deserved, but now he became perpetually abrasive. His egotism and arrogance, which had previously been somewhat endearing, grew into unbearable full blown narcissism, from which arose his cowardice.
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the phantom's post
A loud knock at his bedroom door spurred Mardil into a state of slight consciousness.
"Wha- whass goin' on...mmm, jusss...go'way...m'sleepin'..." he mumbled, slipping back into slumber as he spoke.
The knock sounded again. Mardil opened his eyes. Annoyed, he grumbled, "Leave me alone," but the knock sounded again, accompanied by a "I have a message for you, Lord Mardil."
Mardil recognized the speaker. "Gundor, I told you I'm trying to sleep. I'll read my message later!"
"But Milord," protested Gundor, "The message is from the Grand Anakronist. The man who delivered it said it was imperative that it be given to you immediately."
Mardil rolled over onto his back and stretched his arms out above his head. "Well, I suppose now that I'm awake I might as well read it. Bring it to me."
The door to the well furnished room opened and a tall man with grey-flecked black hair entered, carrying a parchment in his left hand. He was dressed in finely crafted armor and held a spear in his right hand. "Here it is, Master," he said as he offered Mardil the parchment.
Mardil took the message and unfolded it. It read-
Lord Mardil II,
I know that you never bother to come to gatherings, even if they are declared mandatory, but I would strongly suggest joining the assembly in Caer Pairadocks this morning.
I know what you are thinking. You believe there is no way that your name will be chosen because the King's writ and pardon are involved, but I assure you, the King has no control over which names are picked. The selection is random. The only person that can influence the ATM machine is me- The Grand Anakronist.
And now that I've said that, let me just say that I have a strong feeling your name will be chosen.
If you do not arrive before noon you forfeit your chance of escape.
-The Grand Anakronist
Mardil sighed and handed the letter back to Gundor. "What did it say, Milord?"
"Go ahead and read it if you like, Gundor." Mardil sat for a moment staring at the wall, waiting for Gundor to finish.
After Gundor reached the end of the letter, he looked up. "I assume you are going to go, Lord Mardil?"
"I suppose. My life would certainly be easier back home than it is here, but... it wouldn't be as good as the way I left it. I'm worried that I would constantly compare my life with what it was before Mordor- and that would rob me of all joy. Perhaps it would be best to stay here."
"That may be true," said Gundor, "But if I may say so, Milord, there are more reasons to live than for joy and happiness. What about power, your family's honor and status, and revenge against those that wronged you? Surely those things are worth pursuing. Aren't those reasons good enough to leave Mordor for?"
Mardil smiled grimly. "Yes, Gundor, those are good reasons." After a short pause, Mardil stood to his feet and placed his hand on Gundor's shoulder. "You are a good and faithful servant, Gundor. I can't tell you how glad I am that you and Bregor chose to join me here. If I escape I will find a way to get you out of this place. I promise. Now, go and get Bregor and have him help you pack my things, and then load them onto a cart and deliver them to me in Caer Pairadocks. I will go on ahead to be sure I am there before noon."
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Mardil stood upon a balcony overlooking the courtyard of Caer Pairadocks. So far, The Grand Anakronist had called forward an overdressed middle aged lady, a short old lady, a dwarf, a slender girl who looked to be around seventeen, and a young lady who was overly touchy about the pronunciation of her name.
I hope she isn't that touchy about everything. If she is, she will be a real pain to have along thought Mardil,
though she certainly is easy on the eyes he observed as he looked her up and down for about the twentieth time.
The voice of the Grand Anakronist interrupted Mardil's musings. "Mardil II!"
Mardil waved from the balcony. The Grand Anakronist looked up at him and nodded.
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