The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum - View Single Post - Númenórean Blood Runs Black Planning/Discussion Thread

piosenniel · 10-14-2005, 08:12 PM

Kath's character

NAME: Curamir

AGE: 17

RACE: Man

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: He always carries a small dagger, as it was a present from his father when he was very young. He has used it as a hunting knife for many years and treats it almost as a good luck charm, sure of success if he hunts with it, which he hopes will apply for fighting as well. He also carries a rather battered though perfectly good sword. His family is not rich so he did as many odd jobs as possible for the people in his town and used the money he got from that to obtain an acceptable sword. Both sword and dagger are kept in sheaths on his belt, the sword on the left hand side and the dagger on the right. For armour he wears that which he was given when he joined the army. He has the helmet with its protective cheek and nose guards, a leather jerkin with the Tree of Gondor on it and a chainmail shirt.

APPEARANCE: He has dark hair that resists even the most persistant sun and hangs to his shoulders when loose, so he usually has it tied back out of the way. His eyes are dark but it is difficult to determine the colour as they change with shifting light and emotions. He is tall at 6 foot two and always carries himself to his full height. He has a strong build developed from years of working to repair buildings and helping with the farming in his area, with broad shoulders and thick arms. He has proud features, but thanks to his height and almost regal way of carrying himself they suit him and he does not look cruel. His skin is naturally pale but years of working outside have tanned him to a light brown pretty much all over. Being proud of his uniform he wears it almost constantly, and merely exchanges his jerkin and chainmail for a shirt if he wishes to appear in civilian clothing.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: He is very friendly and makes friends at the drop of a hat, having an easy confidence about him. He is honest and well mannered, without much of a temper to him. He tends to think clearly and logically, though in the heat of the moment his tongue may get the better of him. Having been the man of the household for most of his life he can seem older than his years, but he is still a child and if things don't go the way he expects or wants he can sometimes behave like one, though his army training has helped with this a great deal. He is eager and willing to learn, so he studies and practises hard, gaining his skills with relative ease. Though he has no particular speciality in any kind of fighting, he is good at all the basic skills and shows great potential as a swordsman. He does become very engrossed in things he cares about, and this can sometimes cause a problem as he does not notice the effect his relentlessness can have on others.

HISTORY: Born into a family of very young parents his early years were still happy, with a mother and father who cared for him deeply. However when he was three his father was called away to fight and never came back. His mother died soon after and so he was raised by his grandfather with the help of various members of his town so he had strong male role models and learnt the skills he needed to be a valuable member of the community. His grandfather blamed his father for his mothers death and often spoke ill of him, but others in the area remembered how loving Ferethor had been toward his son and with this disagreement and his own memories of being loved his grandfather never convinced him that this was true. His grandfather wanted to prevent him going into to the army,and becoming like his father, but there were so many arguments over this subject that he eventually allowed him to go. At 15 he left home for Lossarnach, to begin his training as a soldier. He has now been in training for 2 years. During this time he heard rumours about his father, and how his body was never found. Becoming curious he asked as many people as possible for stories and information about the battle in which his father was lost and discovered that no one could give a clear answer as to what had actually happened. Wanting to know more, he volunteered for the Corsair mission as he thought the sailors might know something.

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Kath's post

Curamir stepped onto the walkway with a sigh of relief as the world stopped rocking. He had never been on a ship before and the constant swaying had him falling over at every turn. Fortunately Vórimandur the captain had been busy with the preparations for departure and had not seen the somewhat deplorable skills his newest soldier had. Unfortunately, the crew has. The sailors laughed as he stumbled past them trying to keep his balance and even the other soldiers had shared amused grins at his lack in sea legs. Still, he’d had some time to get used to the movement now, and as long as he didn’t watch the horizon dipping up and down he was able to prevent himself from throwing up.

He had been on board since the early morning as the captain had requested and he had intended to ask the crew some questions about his father, as he had assumed that while the ship was in the harbour they would be less busy. He had been wrong, as he had found out when he tried to nab a passing sailor and had received a few choice words once the man realised Curamir only wanted to talk.

“Don’t you realise we’re preparing for a voyage boy? If you’re not going to be helpful then don’t be here at all!”

And he had disappeared without another word. Chagrined and not daring to try again with anyone else, Curamir had stowed his meagre amount of personal items in his bunk and gone up on deck to find Lingwë, his friend from his training days who was also on the mission. He hoped being with would stop him asking foolish questions and disturbing the crewmen, as Lingwë had heard a lot about his father over the years, and was sick to death of it. Once Curamir had found him the two were soon put to work making sure all the necessary supplies were on board, and as they carried box after box to it’s rightful place they chattered eagerly about the upcoming encounter.

“Do you think we’ll actually get to fight?” Lingwë had asked.

“I don’t know. Don’t they usually try to negotiate first? You know, sort it all out without fighting.” He had replied, wondering as he did so just how this mission was going to end.

“Oh maybe. In that case I hope we get to go aboard the Corsair ship, what a story to tell back home!”

“If you live to tell the tale.” Curamir had said with a grin, and received a thump on the arm in retaliation.

Once they had finished the chores that had been set the two friends decided to go ashore and explore the town a little. This was a new place for both of them and as the ship would be leaving soon they were keen to see as much as they could. Curamir was also keen to get onto some dry land, as he knew this would be the last for a while! Now though he was thinking less of what was to come and more of what was around him. The fishy smell that permeated everything was all around, and the stalls in the market place that they had just entered seemed to be the centre of it, holding every kind of fish Curamir could think of.

They walked on and wandered down a back street, looking for something more interesting that wouldn’t be seen by anyone in the more open areas of the town, but just as they found a promising looking street a call rang out from the market square they had previously been in.

“Captain Vórimandur orders that all soldiers serving aboard his ship return immediately!”

Turning to look at his friend Curamir sighed.

“Another time, perhaps”

“When we come back,” answered Lingwë.

They turned and walked briskly back to the ship.

10-14-2005, 08:12 PM	#184
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,816	Kath's character NAME: Curamir AGE: 17 RACE: Man GENDER: Male WEAPONS: He always carries a small dagger, as it was a present from his father when he was very young. He has used it as a hunting knife for many years and treats it almost as a good luck charm, sure of success if he hunts with it, which he hopes will apply for fighting as well. He also carries a rather battered though perfectly good sword. His family is not rich so he did as many odd jobs as possible for the people in his town and used the money he got from that to obtain an acceptable sword. Both sword and dagger are kept in sheaths on his belt, the sword on the left hand side and the dagger on the right. For armour he wears that which he was given when he joined the army. He has the helmet with its protective cheek and nose guards, a leather jerkin with the Tree of Gondor on it and a chainmail shirt. APPEARANCE: He has dark hair that resists even the most persistant sun and hangs to his shoulders when loose, so he usually has it tied back out of the way. His eyes are dark but it is difficult to determine the colour as they change with shifting light and emotions. He is tall at 6 foot two and always carries himself to his full height. He has a strong build developed from years of working to repair buildings and helping with the farming in his area, with broad shoulders and thick arms. He has proud features, but thanks to his height and almost regal way of carrying himself they suit him and he does not look cruel. His skin is naturally pale but years of working outside have tanned him to a light brown pretty much all over. Being proud of his uniform he wears it almost constantly, and merely exchanges his jerkin and chainmail for a shirt if he wishes to appear in civilian clothing. PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: He is very friendly and makes friends at the drop of a hat, having an easy confidence about him. He is honest and well mannered, without much of a temper to him. He tends to think clearly and logically, though in the heat of the moment his tongue may get the better of him. Having been the man of the household for most of his life he can seem older than his years, but he is still a child and if things don't go the way he expects or wants he can sometimes behave like one, though his army training has helped with this a great deal. He is eager and willing to learn, so he studies and practises hard, gaining his skills with relative ease. Though he has no particular speciality in any kind of fighting, he is good at all the basic skills and shows great potential as a swordsman. He does become very engrossed in things he cares about, and this can sometimes cause a problem as he does not notice the effect his relentlessness can have on others. HISTORY: Born into a family of very young parents his early years were still happy, with a mother and father who cared for him deeply. However when he was three his father was called away to fight and never came back. His mother died soon after and so he was raised by his grandfather with the help of various members of his town so he had strong male role models and learnt the skills he needed to be a valuable member of the community. His grandfather blamed his father for his mothers death and often spoke ill of him, but others in the area remembered how loving Ferethor had been toward his son and with this disagreement and his own memories of being loved his grandfather never convinced him that this was true. His grandfather wanted to prevent him going into to the army,and becoming like his father, but there were so many arguments over this subject that he eventually allowed him to go. At 15 he left home for Lossarnach, to begin his training as a soldier. He has now been in training for 2 years. During this time he heard rumours about his father, and how his body was never found. Becoming curious he asked as many people as possible for stories and information about the battle in which his father was lost and discovered that no one could give a clear answer as to what had actually happened. Wanting to know more, he volunteered for the Corsair mission as he thought the sailors might know something. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Kath's post Curamir stepped onto the walkway with a sigh of relief as the world stopped rocking. He had never been on a ship before and the constant swaying had him falling over at every turn. Fortunately Vórimandur the captain had been busy with the preparations for departure and had not seen the somewhat deplorable skills his newest soldier had. Unfortunately, the crew has. The sailors laughed as he stumbled past them trying to keep his balance and even the other soldiers had shared amused grins at his lack in sea legs. Still, he’d had some time to get used to the movement now, and as long as he didn’t watch the horizon dipping up and down he was able to prevent himself from throwing up. He had been on board since the early morning as the captain had requested and he had intended to ask the crew some questions about his father, as he had assumed that while the ship was in the harbour they would be less busy. He had been wrong, as he had found out when he tried to nab a passing sailor and had received a few choice words once the man realised Curamir only wanted to talk. “Don’t you realise we’re preparing for a voyage boy? If you’re not going to be helpful then don’t be here at all!” And he had disappeared without another word. Chagrined and not daring to try again with anyone else, Curamir had stowed his meagre amount of personal items in his bunk and gone up on deck to find Lingwë, his friend from his training days who was also on the mission. He hoped being with would stop him asking foolish questions and disturbing the crewmen, as Lingwë had heard a lot about his father over the years, and was sick to death of it. Once Curamir had found him the two were soon put to work making sure all the necessary supplies were on board, and as they carried box after box to it’s rightful place they chattered eagerly about the upcoming encounter. “Do you think we’ll actually get to fight?” Lingwë had asked. “I don’t know. Don’t they usually try to negotiate first? You know, sort it all out without fighting.” He had replied, wondering as he did so just how this mission was going to end. “Oh maybe. In that case I hope we get to go aboard the Corsair ship, what a story to tell back home!” “If you live to tell the tale.” Curamir had said with a grin, and received a thump on the arm in retaliation. Once they had finished the chores that had been set the two friends decided to go ashore and explore the town a little. This was a new place for both of them and as the ship would be leaving soon they were keen to see as much as they could. Curamir was also keen to get onto some dry land, as he knew this would be the last for a while! Now though he was thinking less of what was to come and more of what was around him. The fishy smell that permeated everything was all around, and the stalls in the market place that they had just entered seemed to be the centre of it, holding every kind of fish Curamir could think of. They walked on and wandered down a back street, looking for something more interesting that wouldn’t be seen by anyone in the more open areas of the town, but just as they found a promising looking street a call rang out from the market square they had previously been in. “Captain Vórimandur orders that all soldiers serving aboard his ship return immediately!” Turning to look at his friend Curamir sighed. “Another time, perhaps” “When we come back,” answered Lingwë. They turned and walked briskly back to the ship.