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piosenniel · 10-05-2003, 02:53 PM

Nuranar’s Character - Calnan

NAME: Calnan, son of Terendul, attaché to the Deputy Secretary of the Department of Umbar

AGE: 20

RACE: Gondorian - Man of Ithilien

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: He is most skillful with his longbow. Following the traditional pattern, his is made of yew and fully six feet long. In Umbar, however, he scarcely uses it and almost never carries it. Most of the time his only visible weapon, when he bears one at all, is his sword. Calnan wields it proficiently, but gets only infrequent practice, most often from thieving Umbarians who see a vulnerable target. When outside the embassy he always carries – usually concealed – a short, single-edged hunting knife given to him by his father. It, too, has more than once been an unpleasant surprise to would-be highwaymen.

APPEARANCE: Calnan is fairly tall, about 6’3”; in build, lanky without awkwardness. His hair is dark blonde, bleached lighter on top by the sun, and trimmed short. His eyes are dark brown. His face is naturally fair, despite its suntan, and his expression calm, if not serious. Casual observers often dismiss him as placid and bookish, overlooking his firm chin and the strong lines of his jaw. When fulfilling his duties as attaché, Calnan wears black trousers, a fine white cambric shirt, and a dark over-tunic with long sleeves slit a short way up. When traveling or otherwise off-duty, he favors dark brown suede breeches, a tan or colored shirt, and well-worn brown leather knee-high boots. For rougher conditions he has a dark green lace-up jerkin and a navy cloak as well.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Calnan is valuable to the Deputy Secretary, for he is hard-working and intelligent. Fair-minded and judicious, he is also a quick thinker and makes up his mind rapidly. Once a decision is made Calnan sticks to it with a tenacity that has before earned him the soubriquet ‘stubborn.’ He is politically aware and astute, yet he is now sure that politics is not his calling. After years of city life he has come to the realization that his love for the outdoors and elbow-room is a deep longing that cannot be eradicated. He thoroughly enjoys archery; from his childhood his father has trained him in the use of the bow. Even before Calnan reached maturity his skill with the longbow had become celebrated in his part of Ithilien Although for the last several years he has had little need to use his bow, in private he continues to hone his ability. Yet Calnan has little combat experience. His desire for all the facts might hinder his decision-making in stressful situations, something else that only experience can remedy.
HISTORY: Terendul, his father, is of the gentry of South Ithilien and served as a Ranger during the war. Calnan was born there. When he was young he occasionally visited his aunt’s family in Minas Tirith. Calnan and his cousin spent many hours in play with the boy next door, Devon Thrann. They became good friends, as small boys will, and despite the three-year differences in their ages.

At home, Calnan’s father trained him in the arts of war, but encouraged him to find a nonviolent occupation. Thus at age 16 Calnan left his parents and went to live in Minas Tirith with his aunt’s family, believing that to be the best place to be fitted for a peaceful life. There he entered upon society, made friends and contacts, and trained in diplomacy. For the last two years Calnan has been the attaché to the new Deputy Secretary, living in Umbar.

There he was brought into close quarters once more with Ambassador Thrann’s household. Calnan and Devon immediately renewed the friendship that had been severed ten years before. Devon’s exuberant desire for adventure often leads the two into interesting situations in and around Calnan’s duties.

These duties are beginning to weight heavily upon him. In the diplomatic universe his star has begun to rise, and he feels satisfaction at the success his hard work has met. Nevertheless, Calnan has begun to feel a stronger pull than the distant prospect of status and reputation. His periodic forays with Devon on intensify this realization. He knows his father Terendul would have him be free to find his own employment, and he will try to keep to the path of peace. But Calnan realizes that finding-elbow room may compel him to take up arms in earnest – just as his father did.
_____________________________________________

Nuranar's post

The just-risen sun was shedding its golden rays on the city when Calnan let himself out the front door of Secretary Ciryatan’s house. The crunch of his footsteps on the gravel drive was the only thing to disturb the stillness of the elite residential neighborhood. As he strode briskly into the narrow lane between high estate walls, Calnan noticed the scarcely-cool morning air. It’s going to be a real scorcher, he reflected.

A small object in the road, opposite a wooden gate in the wall on his left, caught his attention. As he drew nearer he identified it as a small change-purse. Without breaking stride he shot a suspicious glance at the impassive barrier next to him. Reaching the purse, he dropped to one knee and stretched out his hand for it.
Abruptly he threw himself back, just as his ready ear caught the rustle of clothing on wood. As he rose he contemplated with interest a large jet of water that had apparently launched itself from the private side of the gate. Soaring gracefully through the air in a gentle arc, it finally alighted squarely on the abandoned purse with a resounding splat.

A small boy’s head and upper body now extended above the gate, both hands clutching a small pail. Calnan chuckled at the eloquent mortification on his face.

“Julius, did you seriously expect to catch me with that? Why, it’s the oldest trick in the book!”

Impudence replaced mortification. “You know I’ll get you sooner or later, Mr. Calnan. Why don’t you surrender? The sooner you surrender, the easier it’ll be for you.”
“Right, Julius, right.” Still chuckling, Calnan deliberately turned his back, took a step – and then dodged to the right, hearing a projectile whiz viciously past his ear.

“Never give up, young man! Until the next time, farewell!” He raised his hand in a mocking salute, then swaggered jauntily but circumspectly down the road to the corner that marked the limit of his young assailant’s range. The youngest scion of a noble Gondorian house, Master Julius was possessed by the imp of mischief day and night. His recent vendetta against Calnan had afforded that gentlemen much amusement and kept him on his toes for the last several months.

* *

Thirty minutes later found him treading absently up the Embassy drive. Thinking about the day’s work ahead, Calnan was blind to the impressive façade that rose before him. While halfway up the steps he was brought quite down to earth by another object which force itself upon his notice in no uncertain manner, to wit: A scarcely-remarked blur resolved into an agitated ambassador’s son careering precipitately down the house steps and climaxed in a magnificent collision.

Flung backwards for the second time that morning, albeit this time not of his own power, Calnan flung out a desperate arm and seized the iron rail. Pivoting around with his antagonist’s momentum, he grasped the young man’s arm in time to prevent him from executing a head-first dive to the ground.

Within two seconds both had regained their balance. Calnan grimaced at his friend, having recognized Devon in that split-second of revelation that invariably precedes a disaster. “You lunkhead, don’t you ever look where you’re going? You—” The unaccustomed grimness of Devon’s usually cheerful face stopped him. “What’s going on?”
_____________________________

Maikafanawen's post

"I'll tell you what's going on," said Devon rather heatedly. "That Captain Doran is what's going on!" Calnan shook his head. He had misinterpreted the source of Devon's anger. "No," Devon interrupted. "It's not the usual government nonsense I can't stand, and no I haven't been assigned to apprenticeship with him—thank Eru! It's something much worse." Calnan raised a concerned eyebrow. "Come on," Devon beckoned. "Let's go see Callath. I'll tell the both of you when we get there. We won't be overheard in the stables."

_____________________________________________

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

10-05-2003, 02:53 PM	#9
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,816	Nuranar’s Character - Calnan NAME: Calnan, son of Terendul, attaché to the Deputy Secretary of the Department of Umbar AGE: 20 RACE: Gondorian - Man of Ithilien GENDER: Male WEAPONS: He is most skillful with his longbow. Following the traditional pattern, his is made of yew and fully six feet long. In Umbar, however, he scarcely uses it and almost never carries it. Most of the time his only visible weapon, when he bears one at all, is his sword. Calnan wields it proficiently, but gets only infrequent practice, most often from thieving Umbarians who see a vulnerable target. When outside the embassy he always carries – usually concealed – a short, single-edged hunting knife given to him by his father. It, too, has more than once been an unpleasant surprise to would-be highwaymen. APPEARANCE: Calnan is fairly tall, about 6’3”; in build, lanky without awkwardness. His hair is dark blonde, bleached lighter on top by the sun, and trimmed short. His eyes are dark brown. His face is naturally fair, despite its suntan, and his expression calm, if not serious. Casual observers often dismiss him as placid and bookish, overlooking his firm chin and the strong lines of his jaw. When fulfilling his duties as attaché, Calnan wears black trousers, a fine white cambric shirt, and a dark over-tunic with long sleeves slit a short way up. When traveling or otherwise off-duty, he favors dark brown suede breeches, a tan or colored shirt, and well-worn brown leather knee-high boots. For rougher conditions he has a dark green lace-up jerkin and a navy cloak as well. PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Calnan is valuable to the Deputy Secretary, for he is hard-working and intelligent. Fair-minded and judicious, he is also a quick thinker and makes up his mind rapidly. Once a decision is made Calnan sticks to it with a tenacity that has before earned him the soubriquet ‘stubborn.’ He is politically aware and astute, yet he is now sure that politics is not his calling. After years of city life he has come to the realization that his love for the outdoors and elbow-room is a deep longing that cannot be eradicated. He thoroughly enjoys archery; from his childhood his father has trained him in the use of the bow. Even before Calnan reached maturity his skill with the longbow had become celebrated in his part of Ithilien Although for the last several years he has had little need to use his bow, in private he continues to hone his ability. Yet Calnan has little combat experience. His desire for all the facts might hinder his decision-making in stressful situations, something else that only experience can remedy. HISTORY: Terendul, his father, is of the gentry of South Ithilien and served as a Ranger during the war. Calnan was born there. When he was young he occasionally visited his aunt’s family in Minas Tirith. Calnan and his cousin spent many hours in play with the boy next door, Devon Thrann. They became good friends, as small boys will, and despite the three-year differences in their ages. At home, Calnan’s father trained him in the arts of war, but encouraged him to find a nonviolent occupation. Thus at age 16 Calnan left his parents and went to live in Minas Tirith with his aunt’s family, believing that to be the best place to be fitted for a peaceful life. There he entered upon society, made friends and contacts, and trained in diplomacy. For the last two years Calnan has been the attaché to the new Deputy Secretary, living in Umbar. There he was brought into close quarters once more with Ambassador Thrann’s household. Calnan and Devon immediately renewed the friendship that had been severed ten years before. Devon’s exuberant desire for adventure often leads the two into interesting situations in and around Calnan’s duties. These duties are beginning to weight heavily upon him. In the diplomatic universe his star has begun to rise, and he feels satisfaction at the success his hard work has met. Nevertheless, Calnan has begun to feel a stronger pull than the distant prospect of status and reputation. His periodic forays with Devon on intensify this realization. He knows his father Terendul would have him be free to find his own employment, and he will try to keep to the path of peace. But Calnan realizes that finding-elbow room may compel him to take up arms in earnest – just as his father did. _____________________________________________ Nuranar's post The just-risen sun was shedding its golden rays on the city when Calnan let himself out the front door of Secretary Ciryatan’s house. The crunch of his footsteps on the gravel drive was the only thing to disturb the stillness of the elite residential neighborhood. As he strode briskly into the narrow lane between high estate walls, Calnan noticed the scarcely-cool morning air. It’s going to be a real scorcher, he reflected. A small object in the road, opposite a wooden gate in the wall on his left, caught his attention. As he drew nearer he identified it as a small change-purse. Without breaking stride he shot a suspicious glance at the impassive barrier next to him. Reaching the purse, he dropped to one knee and stretched out his hand for it. Abruptly he threw himself back, just as his ready ear caught the rustle of clothing on wood. As he rose he contemplated with interest a large jet of water that had apparently launched itself from the private side of the gate. Soaring gracefully through the air in a gentle arc, it finally alighted squarely on the abandoned purse with a resounding splat. A small boy’s head and upper body now extended above the gate, both hands clutching a small pail. Calnan chuckled at the eloquent mortification on his face. “Julius, did you seriously expect to catch me with that? Why, it’s the oldest trick in the book!” Impudence replaced mortification. “You know I’ll get you sooner or later, Mr. Calnan. Why don’t you surrender? The sooner you surrender, the easier it’ll be for you.” “Right, Julius, right.” Still chuckling, Calnan deliberately turned his back, took a step – and then dodged to the right, hearing a projectile whiz viciously past his ear. “Never give up, young man! Until the next time, farewell!” He raised his hand in a mocking salute, then swaggered jauntily but circumspectly down the road to the corner that marked the limit of his young assailant’s range. The youngest scion of a noble Gondorian house, Master Julius was possessed by the imp of mischief day and night. His recent vendetta against Calnan had afforded that gentlemen much amusement and kept him on his toes for the last several months. * * Thirty minutes later found him treading absently up the Embassy drive. Thinking about the day’s work ahead, Calnan was blind to the impressive façade that rose before him. While halfway up the steps he was brought quite down to earth by another object which force itself upon his notice in no uncertain manner, to wit: A scarcely-remarked blur resolved into an agitated ambassador’s son careering precipitately down the house steps and climaxed in a magnificent collision. Flung backwards for the second time that morning, albeit this time not of his own power, Calnan flung out a desperate arm and seized the iron rail. Pivoting around with his antagonist’s momentum, he grasped the young man’s arm in time to prevent him from executing a head-first dive to the ground. Within two seconds both had regained their balance. Calnan grimaced at his friend, having recognized Devon in that split-second of revelation that invariably precedes a disaster. “You lunkhead, don’t you ever look where you’re going? You—” The unaccustomed grimness of Devon’s usually cheerful face stopped him. “What’s going on?” _____________________________ Maikafanawen's post "I'll tell you what's going on," said Devon rather heatedly. "That Captain Doran is what's going on!" Calnan shook his head. He had misinterpreted the source of Devon's anger. "No," Devon interrupted. "It's not the usual government nonsense I can't stand, and no I haven't been assigned to apprenticeship with him—thank Eru! It's something much worse." Calnan raised a concerned eyebrow. "Come on," Devon beckoned. "Let's go see Callath. I'll tell the both of you when we get there. We won't be overheard in the stables." _____________________________________________ [ October 20, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ] __________________ Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.