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NAME: Eomer of the Rohirrim.
AGE: 21.
RACE: Man (of Rohan, sooth, sooth).
GENDER: Male.
WEAPONS: The ability to run away rather quickly; a sword (mostly for show); and a high-pitched shriek.
APPEARANCE: Eomer is a little over six feet tall and is thin. He tends to wear shabby clothes: jackets, cloaks. At times, this looks quite fetching in an 'outsider' kind of way. Most of the time, though, he just looks like a tramp. He has flowing hair which changes colour as it pleases: here dark brown, here golden, here sepia. He has deep eyes which somehow catch people's attention, probably because they cannot help but try to judge whether Eomer is still alive. He has a highly lazy look about him; maybe 'sedated' is a more fitting word.
PERSONALITY: Selfish; uninterested in other people; cynical. But that's on the inside. To other eyes he appears delightful, charming and winsome. When in the mood, Eomer can be extremely unlikeable to those who get close to him; and this mood takes him quite often.
STRENGTHS: The ability to make himself appear far more interesting and desirable than he actually is. Also, upon hearing the sound of drums & electric guitar, he obtains great and dangerous energy. Mostly, this power is but a memory of his pre-Mordor days.
WEAKNESSES: The sound of beautiful piano music can sometimes reduce him to a weeping wreck, especially at inopportune moments. And axes through his heart: that's another weakness.
HISTORY: Eomer lived an unwholesome and self-centred life in a land far, far away, until, after crowing about his perfection one time too many, was mysteriously assigned to Mordor by his as-yet unknown nemesys.
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