[Morthoron]

Morthoron's character

NAME: Amarthanuin the Noegedhil

AGE (chronological): 1st Age (several thousand years)

AGE (mental): about 16

RACE(S): Half-dwarf (half-Sindarin)

GENDER: Male

SPECIAL WEAPONS/JEWELRY/OTHER ITEMS: The Naugrond -- Hammer of the Dwarves.

RENOWNED CRAFTSMAN WHO MADE THEM: Created by Telchar in the deeps of time (he actually whittled it on a lunch break during the days he was crafting Narsil).

SPECIAL ABILITIES: A dwarf's endurance and drinking ability, with elvish acuity and fashion sense.

SPECIAL PET(S): having also the dwarvish ability to speak with birds, he has as his companion the foul-speaking myna named Harlotesse'.

RELATIONSHIP TO TOLKIEN'S CHARACTER(S): He once saved Elrond from a bad hair day (with his Dwarvish crafting ability, he has learned to make intricate Elvish braids).

IS IN LOVE WITH: An unrequited love for the elf-maiden Rintintinavulaossea-Estelauder, whose father refused his proffer of marriage because of his unseemly height.

IS LOVED BY: No one, he does not fit in with the elves, who mock his shortness, nor the dwarves, who laugh at his parti-colored robes (Particularly the ones with the satin hoods).

APPEARANCE: He has smoldering green eyes flecked with black that turn a fiery red when he is angered. He is blessed with a wavy mop of brown hair that has silken strands of blond highlights that glisten in the early morning sun. He has a five-o'clock shadow even though he shaves constantly (having inherited a beard gene from his unknown dwarvish father). He's about 5'8'' with the gnarled muscles of the dwarven race, but his movements are agile with the predatory grace of a feline.

TOKEN FLAW/WEAKNESS (which proves that your character is NOT, repeat NOT, a Mary Sue!): His height, which is a constant cause for melancholy.

TRAGIC PAST/OTHER REASON FOR ANGST: His mother, a Sindarin elf, was raped by a dwarf of Tumunzahar during the sack of Menegroth after the death of Thingol. His mother, though wane from grief and embarrassment, still bore the cursed child out of a sense of duty and faith (Tolkien being Catholic and all). As she lay dying from blood loss, she uttered the famous prophecy:

All that is withered is not necessarily old,
Not all that ponder do deeply think.
Some haven't the sense to come in from the cold
Because they've had far too much to drink.

From the squat gawking up at the world --
Sorely mocked for his poor lack of height --
Shall get all the cool stuff and the girl,
In spite of his measure so slight.

(OPTIONAL) REALMS TO WHICH YOUR CHARACTER IS THE RIGHTFUL HEIR: His mother, who just happened to be Eol's sister, was heir to Nan Elmoth. At the end of his days, Amarthanuin shall steal a rowboat (knocking some Hobbit named Sam into the water), and sail out into the West. Unfortunately, he won't find Nan Elmoth because it is, of course, submerged.

REASON THE FATE OF MIDDLE-EARTH DEPENDS ON YOUR CHARACTER: Malbeth the Seer (under the influence of egg-nog well past its expiration date), mumbled this prophecy in the midst of vomiting:

Amarth the half-Sindarin
Never gained full Elvish height
And if you ever saw him
You would even say he's slight
All of the other Elflings
Used to laugh and call him names
They wouldn't let poor Amarth
Play in any Elvish games
Then one foggy yule-tide eve
Gandalf came to say
Amarth with your fashion flair
Won't you braid poor Elrond's hair
Then all the Elves, they loved him
And aplogized for their sport
But Amarth the half-Sindarin
Is and always will be short.

Ummm....sorry.