The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum - View Single Post

Thengal · 01-26-2004, 06:45 PM

1.) Have you ever played in an RPG at the Barrow Downs? No.

2.) How many RPG’s on the Barrow Downs are you currently involved in? None.

3.) Have you posted in The Green Dragon Inn or in The White Horse in Rohan? Yes, The Green Dragon.

Thengal's Character

Name: Carathir

Age: 20

Race: Easterling

Gender: Male

Location: Gondor

WEAPONS: Carathir carries only an ornatly crafted scimitar that was a gift to him by his father.

APPEARANCE: Carthir stands about 5'11 and is phsically not very big. He is a handsome man with dark hair and big brown eyes.

PERSONALITY: Carathir has a good heart and likes to help people. He strives to seperate himself from his past, but he also has a dark side. He forgets himself at times and acts rashly. The lessons he learned as a child are heard to forget....

HISTORY: Carathir is an Easterling, a man from the Sea of Rhun, an enemy of Gondor. His uncle, Ulwarth, was the king of the Balchoth tribe. Carathir's uncle had adopted him when he was 5 years old, after his father had perished fighting at Minas Tirith. Carathir had left his uncle’s hall, on the coast of the Rhun, not more than a month ago.
_____________________________________________

Thengal's post

Carathir shook his head and banged his fist into his palm in frustration. Lysia had done so much for him, first by saving him from the Gondorian king’s judgment, then by befriending him over the last few weeks and teaching him the Gondorian customs. Carathir had been unable to return the favor, though he clearly saw that Lysia carried some great burden. Carathir wanted to rush into the library now, go to the woman, and make her speak her gloomy thoughts to him.

Carathir would not yet be so bold with his new friend, however. He would find the key to her pain in time, he vowed, but right now he had his own dilemma to overcome. Carathir made his way into his private chambers, which Lysia had provided for him, deep in thought.

Carathir was an Easterling, a man from the Sea of Rhun, an enemy of Gondor. His uncle, Ulwarth, was the king of the Balchoth tribe. Carathir's uncle had adopted him when he was 5 years old, after his father had perished fighting at Minas Tirith. Carathir had left his uncle’s hall, on the coast of the Rhun, not more than a month ago. The words of his uncle still echoed in his thoughts, “Go Carathir, my son, go and save yourself from my fate and the fate of all those who trusted the treachery the Dark Lord. Do not be caught in the snares of power and greed, like we all were. Leave this forsaken land and do not return. Go and seek your fortunes in the wide world. Hearts as pure as yours should not be bound here, to wither and die like those of our people.”

After much debate Carathir finally made the decision to leave the home he had known for the 20 years of his life. Carathir’s brother’s called him a “coward” and a “dog of Gondor.” They told him that his father would have been ashamed to call Carathir his son. They said that no man, of any worth, would ever leave his people to run off to the lands of the West because times were bad. After the War, the Easterling tribes had fallen into poverty and despair. They had put all their resources into the war against Gondor and lost everything, including an entire generation of young men. They had petty squabbles over barren pieces of rock, so that they could scrap out barely enough to survive. They were raided by roving bands of orcs who stole what petty land, around the Sea of Rhun, they had left. With the words of his brothers echoing in his head, Carathir rode from the land of his people never to return.

Suddenly, a knock came to his door that shook him from his daydream. He rose to answer the call at his door, but Lysia had already let herself in. “Carathir, I need you to do something for me,” she said suddenly. He was startled by her openness and the troubled look on her face. He wished much to do what ever he could for this kind woman, whom had showed him so much compassion. She paused and he waited for her to continue. “Well it starts like this…”

The entire tale was related to him from beginning to end, twice over. Carathir pondered over every word of her tale trying to fit himself into it somehow. He wished to do what he could, but getting tangled up with a traitor to Gondor, considering where he was from, was not an advisable course of action. “What do you need from me?” he finally asked her. “I need you to go with Maen, Carathir.” “She needs stout companions and you are a splendid choice, my young man.” She looked sincerely into his eyes searching for a reaction to the question. The request surprised he a little, but then the shadows of his past started creeping into his mind. Does this Gondorian wench what me to do her dirty work for her?. He tried to shake the thought from his mind, but it came back stronger.Take the Legacy. Take the Legacy. Carathir thought he left that part of him back home. That evil hate instilled in him from birth. He battled it all his life, he fought to become his own person. He lost the battle against it in a matter of minutes. “Yes!” he suddenly burst out. At first Lysia was startled by the outburst, but then a smile spread across her face. “Good, I thought that’s what you’d say,” she said as she patted him on the shoulder. “I’ll fetch Lysia and tell her she has a new companion!” she said as she scurried out of the room.

Carathir sat alone with his brother’s taunts echoing through him. His thoughts grew dark and clouded. He lost sight of the man he thought he was. I’ll show them. Then we’ll see whose laughing when I return rich and become a hero of our people! He wrung his hands with delight and a wicked smile spread across his face. Then, he rose from his bed and began preparing his things. So, a scheme began to hatch in his mind of how he would recover the gold and slip away without causing too much of an uproar. [img]smilies/evil.gif[/img]

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 4:45 PM January 27, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

01-26-2004, 06:45 PM	#21
Thengal Haunting Spirit Join Date: Jan 2004 Posts: 63	1.) Have you ever played in an RPG at the Barrow Downs? No. 2.) How many RPG’s on the Barrow Downs are you currently involved in? None. 3.) Have you posted in The Green Dragon Inn or in The White Horse in Rohan? Yes, The Green Dragon. Thengal's Character Name: Carathir Age: 20 Race: Easterling Gender: Male Location: Gondor WEAPONS: Carathir carries only an ornatly crafted scimitar that was a gift to him by his father. APPEARANCE: Carthir stands about 5'11 and is phsically not very big. He is a handsome man with dark hair and big brown eyes. PERSONALITY: Carathir has a good heart and likes to help people. He strives to seperate himself from his past, but he also has a dark side. He forgets himself at times and acts rashly. The lessons he learned as a child are heard to forget.... HISTORY: Carathir is an Easterling, a man from the Sea of Rhun, an enemy of Gondor. His uncle, Ulwarth, was the king of the Balchoth tribe. Carathir's uncle had adopted him when he was 5 years old, after his father had perished fighting at Minas Tirith. Carathir had left his uncle’s hall, on the coast of the Rhun, not more than a month ago. _____________________________________________ Thengal's post Carathir shook his head and banged his fist into his palm in frustration. Lysia had done so much for him, first by saving him from the Gondorian king’s judgment, then by befriending him over the last few weeks and teaching him the Gondorian customs. Carathir had been unable to return the favor, though he clearly saw that Lysia carried some great burden. Carathir wanted to rush into the library now, go to the woman, and make her speak her gloomy thoughts to him. Carathir would not yet be so bold with his new friend, however. He would find the key to her pain in time, he vowed, but right now he had his own dilemma to overcome. Carathir made his way into his private chambers, which Lysia had provided for him, deep in thought. Carathir was an Easterling, a man from the Sea of Rhun, an enemy of Gondor. His uncle, Ulwarth, was the king of the Balchoth tribe. Carathir's uncle had adopted him when he was 5 years old, after his father had perished fighting at Minas Tirith. Carathir had left his uncle’s hall, on the coast of the Rhun, not more than a month ago. The words of his uncle still echoed in his thoughts, “Go Carathir, my son, go and save yourself from my fate and the fate of all those who trusted the treachery the Dark Lord. Do not be caught in the snares of power and greed, like we all were. Leave this forsaken land and do not return. Go and seek your fortunes in the wide world. Hearts as pure as yours should not be bound here, to wither and die like those of our people.” After much debate Carathir finally made the decision to leave the home he had known for the 20 years of his life. Carathir’s brother’s called him a “coward” and a “dog of Gondor.” They told him that his father would have been ashamed to call Carathir his son. They said that no man, of any worth, would ever leave his people to run off to the lands of the West because times were bad. After the War, the Easterling tribes had fallen into poverty and despair. They had put all their resources into the war against Gondor and lost everything, including an entire generation of young men. They had petty squabbles over barren pieces of rock, so that they could scrap out barely enough to survive. They were raided by roving bands of orcs who stole what petty land, around the Sea of Rhun, they had left. With the words of his brothers echoing in his head, Carathir rode from the land of his people never to return. Suddenly, a knock came to his door that shook him from his daydream. He rose to answer the call at his door, but Lysia had already let herself in. “Carathir, I need you to do something for me,” she said suddenly. He was startled by her openness and the troubled look on her face. He wished much to do what ever he could for this kind woman, whom had showed him so much compassion. She paused and he waited for her to continue. “Well it starts like this…” The entire tale was related to him from beginning to end, twice over. Carathir pondered over every word of her tale trying to fit himself into it somehow. He wished to do what he could, but getting tangled up with a traitor to Gondor, considering where he was from, was not an advisable course of action. “What do you need from me?” he finally asked her. “I need you to go with Maen, Carathir.” “She needs stout companions and you are a splendid choice, my young man.” She looked sincerely into his eyes searching for a reaction to the question. The request surprised he a little, but then the shadows of his past started creeping into his mind. Does this Gondorian wench what me to do her dirty work for her?. He tried to shake the thought from his mind, but it came back stronger.Take the Legacy. Take the Legacy. Carathir thought he left that part of him back home. That evil hate instilled in him from birth. He battled it all his life, he fought to become his own person. He lost the battle against it in a matter of minutes. “Yes!” he suddenly burst out. At first Lysia was startled by the outburst, but then a smile spread across her face. “Good, I thought that’s what you’d say,” she said as she patted him on the shoulder. “I’ll fetch Lysia and tell her she has a new companion!” she said as she scurried out of the room. Carathir sat alone with his brother’s taunts echoing through him. His thoughts grew dark and clouded. He lost sight of the man he thought he was. I’ll show them. Then we’ll see whose laughing when I return rich and become a hero of our people! He wrung his hands with delight and a wicked smile spread across his face. Then, he rose from his bed and began preparing his things. So, a scheme began to hatch in his mind of how he would recover the gold and slip away without causing too much of an uproar. [img]smilies/evil.gif[/img] <font size=1 color=339966>[ 4:45 PM January 27, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]