[Arvedui III]

Heheh, this look awesome. Might you guys have need of a corsair?
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Have you ever played in an RPG at the Barrow Downs? – YES - Road to Erebor, Reclaiming the City, Truth in a Dark Place

How many RPG's on the Barrow Downs are you currently involved in? 2- Resistance, Resettling the Lost Kingdom.

Have you posted in The Green Dragon Inn or in The White Horse in Rohan? –NO
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For your character please include:

NAME: Menelcar

AGE: 38

RACE: Gondorian Male, Middle-man.

WEAPONS: Menelcar wields a double-edged dirk with some skill, but his weapon of choice is a ironwood mace slug comfortably across his back at all times.

APPEARANCE: Bowed with a myriad of scars, most of them disfiguring his once handsome face, Menelcar's eerily tall and powerful form is not something one would wish to come across in a dark alley of Umbar, where he is wont to spend his nights. He stands about 6'3"; and his cropped black hair, stiff with spray, and even darker eyes help him blend easily into the shadows when it suits his needs.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Menelcar has the look of someone used to frequent outbursts of rage, but that couldn't be farther from the truth. Reserved and calculating, Menelcar likes others to fight his battles if he doesn't have to. And therein lies his essential failing: Laziness. Menelcar, unless he uses great strength of will to turn his resolve to other purposes, would like to do nothing else besides lean back against his great sandalwood chair and do nothing. Amazingly jocular if given the right amount of rest, Menelcar would make any hobbit proud. However, he does know when to put his nose to the grindstone, and once he commits to something, Menelcar is unrelenting in seeing it through.

HISTORY: Born in Dol Amroth, Menelcar was originally the son of a widower fisherman, but was taken in bloody corsair raid along the coast of his home at the age of twelve; and enslaved as a cabin boy on the infamous corsair vessel, "Back Wayfarer" In time, the love of the sea his father imbued in and the thrill of life onboard a ship mixed, and Menelcar willingly gave up any desire to escape and return to Dol Amroth. From that time on, he served one Capt. Jythralo Doran, moving up though the ranks and eventually becoming a coxswain. The war of the ring came and went, and, like all his brethren corsairs, Menelcar renounced his life as a buccaneer and settled on the isle of Umbar. After a few years of wandering aimlessly throughout the island, he began working as a harborman, finally giving in to the fact that he would have to labor legitimately for once. However, with the help of his former captain, he was quickly promoted to the rank of harbor master, and allowed in on Doran's plot to return to the sea. Now, sitting comfortably in his warf-side cabin, Menelcar waits patiently, not noticing certain activities and taking stock of others when it suits the plan, the plan foremost in his yearning mind, now alight with a new fire.
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Arvedui III's post

The harbor stunk; It was a simple fact.

However, to the ruddy figure settled comfortably behind a worn and slovenly desk, the rotting planks, waste-filled shore, and ships bobbing evenly outside his cabin produced the most intoxicating aroma ever to be taken in by men. The honorable harbor master Menelcar couldn't have been enjoying himself more when the rat crept almost reverently into his office. Well, perhaps office was too strong a word for the disorderly mess of a room he called his cabin. The sticky, sea green shades suffered no light to pervade through the room, save a hungry yellow torch stuck on the right wall that seemed to leer at all who entered. Smiling wryly as the rat tripped over a pile of cargo reports he had been meaning to organize, Menelcar rolled his shoulders back, creating an ominous snap that seemed to echo.

Satisfied with the effect, the harbor master took up his usual act, one that he had perfected long ago. He grabbed a disjointed quill and began to scratch out the heading for the report that would inevitably follow whatever information was coming. At the sound of the rat's timid, "Pardon Sir," he looked up in annoyance and barked, "What?". Eyeing the bedraggled boy bitting his lips was more enjoyable than he had thought, and Menelcar did not bother holding back the smirk that crossed his face. As if encouraged, the rat gulped and started speaking. "Sir, well, Mr. Rolen wanted to report, sir. The Estel's left sight of port now, and," "When?" Menelcar barked tersely. "At first light, sir." Came the prompt reply.

Oh, of course. While I'm still asleep.

"Who gave it clearance, then?" He said, narrowing his eyes in distaste. "Mr. Cullom, sir." "Cullom?" Menelcar echoed, brows arching in surprise. "Yes, sir." Licking his lips, the harbor master made a mental note to question Cullom later. No ship was supposed to leave port without him knowing, and if Cullom was getting sloppy, or even worse, getting cold feet...

"Is that all?" Menelcar sighed, dipping the broken quill into ink and continuing to scrawl on a tattered piece of parchment. "Well, sir, well, there is, that-I," The rat began to stutter, "What?" He barked, showing more ire than he intended to. "The cove, sir, Mr. Rolen thinks that," "Oh does he now?" The harbor master hissed dangerously through gritted teeth. "Well, you tell Mr. Rolen from me that I don't pay him to think, I pay him to do, and if he's so set on thinking, you tell him that he can think about doing without this job. Fathom that, ye worthless cull?"

At that last statement, the boy's eyes expanded to the size of saucers and Menelcar winced and cursed himself inwardly. This rat had never heard him dip back into his seamen's tongue, and would no doubt report that to Rolen. He would have to watch his temper. "Well? Aught else for me, boy?" Menelcar barked, looking up from his notes to the harbor rat again as if nothing out of the ordinary had been said."Nn, no, sir." The rat bumbled, still looking at his master in shock.

"Then get you gone." He ordered and didn't give the boy another glance. Mayhap that would be enough to keep the lad quiet, but Menelcar doubted it. Silence ruled the office for the next hour, the harbor master plotting who best to deal with Cullom and Rolen, and maybe that harbor rat if the price for such a deed was good this time of year. Then a rap on the knobby door jerked his attention away from the report he had just finished with a flourish."Enter" He drawled imperiously, wondering if he wouldn't have to pay for dealing with Rolen after all."You know," Said an amused voice that Menelcar recognized immediately and sent shivers like cold water down his spine. "Were anyone important to stop by the honorable office of the harbor master of Umbar, you'd be out on your arse, ‘Car."

"Captain!" Menelcar cried happily and rose quickly out of his chair. "What an unexpected surprise, sir." "How's business?" Jythralo asked his former thrall as if he was a father inspecting a son's new trade store."Can't complain," Menelcar beamed, "May have to find a new west warden, though." "Tolram Rolen?" "Yes, sir." Dalon nodded sagely. "Well, I trust you have the contacts to take care of that,"Then, adding a lopsided grin to his face, he continued, "Or mayhap ye'd liefer add a notch to that club ‘o yours, belike, coxswain?" Both men chuckled at the statement, each reminiscing about a time when such speech was heard all over Umbar. "Aye, sir. I've not chosen which yet, but I'd love to take the latter, so I would. But, why are you here, sir?"

At this Dalon frowned. "Mayhap ye'd do me the pleasure of adding two notches to that club of yours ." He said conspiratorially, arching an eyebrow.

The harbor master only smiled in response.

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I hope that works.

[ October 15, 2003: Message edited by: Arvedui III ]

[ October 20, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]