Red Flows the Sirannon Planning/Discussion Thread

[piosenniel]

Orcs of Sauron’s forces


Firefoot's character

NAME: Grimkul

AGE: He’s not really sure – all years tend to run together in dark tunnels under the mountains - nor does he care. But even if he did care, it wouldn’t matter much since he can’t count much higher than 20.

RACE: Orc

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: Grimkul’s favorite weapon is a long, slightly curved scimitar which he hasn’t ever cleaned, more out of laziness than any other reason, though he does pride himself on the different kinds of blood the sword bears: Elf, Dwarf, Man, Orc, rat (and other rodent), fish, bat, and once he was even lucky enough to spear a bird. He has a wooden bow, on which is scratched all kinds of crude symbols and marks; his arrows are fletched in black feathers. He also has a short dagger and a heavy wooden cudgel, useful for bashing in heads and squashing things.

APPEARANCE: Grimkul is of a smaller mountain race, though he is rather large for that, with comparatively broad, albeit hunched, shoulders and tough wiry muscles. He is bowlegged. He has dark, splotchy skin, and what sparse hair he does have is coarse and black. His yellow eyes are accustomed to the dark and bulge out of his misshapen skull. His teeth are yellow and crooked, and not a few are missing; his fingernails are similarly yellowed and tough. His only armor is a chain mail coat, over which he wears dark breeches and a jerkin made mostly of bats’ wings crudely sown together.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Grimkul is not very intelligent and, if confused, is more likely to kill the source of confusion than try to sort the information out. The notable exception is his more intelligent companion Ulwakh; their relationship being a mutually beneficial “brains/brawn” type. Grimkul tends not to back down from a fight even when his chances at winning are considerably slim, whether because he is too stupid to realize this or doesn’t care is undecided. Luckily he is larger, stronger, and more skilled in weapon use than most of his kind. He dislikes being among the legions of Sauron’s army and would prefer to go back to the mountain tunnels in the Misty Mountains. Nor does he bear any love toward his commanders (who are generally bigger than he is), and, largely at Ulwakh’s bidding, avoids their notice whenever possible.

HISTORY: Grimkul was born in the Orc tunnels of the Misty Mountains and has spent most of his life there. This part of his life was basically uneventful: he survived off the creatures sharing the tunnels with him, fought in some small battles between Orc clans, and sometimes ventured out of the mountains in small raiding parties (always at night) to harry any living things unfortunate enough to be in the area. Several years back, however, he was part of a raiding party that had gone farther than usual from their mountain tunnels and had a run-in with a small force of Sauron’s. Those that survived (including Grimkul and Ulwakh) were driven to Mordor and integrated into Sauron’s army.

~*~

Carry-along character

NAME: Ulwakh – Grimkul’s companion

AGE: About the same as Grimkul, though he could probably give a more precise answer, as he understands numbers and such better – he could probably count to 50, and if he thought about it would be able to tell you that they were at least that old.

RACE: Orc

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: Ulwakh’s first two weapons, a scimitar and bow, are similar to Grimkul’s. His favorite weapons, however, are a variety of crooked knives with jagged edges, no two alike. These are useful for throwing, stabbing, cutting, and other more ordinary purposes (e.g. cooking, should he ever care to cook), but more interesting to him are the different ways each can provide pain. Ulwakh does not enjoy killing and fighting so much, but he finds giving pain fascinating, and his knives are useful for this.

APPEARANCE: Similar to Grimkul in complexion, though little else. He is much smaller and less strong, and his arms and legs are proportionately longer. His skull is rounder; his eyes are deeper set and an almost luminescent green color. His garments are also similar to Grimkul, except he is far less choosy in the materials for his jerkin and he wears a helmet as an extra piece of armor.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Ulwakh is quite intelligent and cunning (for an Orc, that is). He is quick and agile, though not particularly strong or prone to fight. He prefers to flee rather than fight, though he can ably defend himself (or Grimkul can defend him; it’s all the same to Ulwakh). He takes a perverse delight in giving pain, and while his subjects are usually small animals that he catches, he prefers such rarer subjects as Elves and Dwarves when he has had the fortune of a captive. Ulwakh has no desire of personal power, as he generally sees leadership roles as a good way to get killed (by followers), and in further self-preservation he draws as little attention to himself as possible.

HISTORY: About the same as Grimkul.

[piosenniel]

Orcs of Sauron’s forces


Kath's character

NAME: Olburz

AGE: Unknown

RACE: Orc - a corrupted elf

GENDER: male

WEAPONS: He carries a sword and an axe but prefers to use the strength in his body to weapons when fighting. He wears armour of metal gathered from the dead of previous battles but wears no helm as his skull is remarkably thick.

APPEARANCE: Large both in height and width. Hunches over a lot so has a slight hump on his back. Ugly as sin with numerous scars from old battles as well as his toturous corruption.


PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Follows orders though not always with good grace. A tendency to be surly to leaders has made him a little unpopular wtihin the camp but when he does do as asked he does so with well with efficiency. He is trustworthy in that if asked to kill he will do so without hesitation and with glee.

HISTORY: Captured and tortured by Sauron's servants he took to his corrupted form with relish.

[piosenniel]

PLAYER/CHARACTER LIST:

Elves of Eregion

• Durelin - Maegisil
• Amanaduial the archer - Narisiel Mirdain
• Alcarillo - Cainenyo Nession
• Nurumaiel - Erinlaer
  
  
• Esgallhugwen - Fëaglin Lómë - POST NEEDED

~*~

Dwarves of Moria

• Piosenniel – Riv Stonecut
• Arry - Skald Stonecut (Riv's younger brother)
• Folwren - Bror (Riv's youngest brother)
• Boromir88 - Orin Bronzeeyes

~*~

Elves of Lórien

• Seth Cotton - Vaele Andarion
• Arestevana - Gilduin Lindorion
  
  
• Gwydion - Alethian Eriam - POST NEEDED

~*~

Elves of Lindon

• Envinyatar - Ondomirë
• Orofaniel - Geldion

~*~

Orcs of Sauron’s forces

• Encaitare - Glûtkask, corrupted maia in Orc form + several carry along Orc underlings
• Firefoot - Grimkul + carry long - Ulwakh
• Kath - Olburz

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

CAMEOS - to be arranged with Durelin by PM

1.) CaptainofDespair - Sauron's Champion; big baddie

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[piosenniel]

ESGALLHUGWEN, MITHALWEN, GWYDION, ARESTEVANA please put your FIRST POSTS here on this thread.

[Seth Cotton]

Vaele took up his bow, felt its weight. He nodded for himself and placed the fine longbow on his right side and let it lean against the wall as he took up the rest of his needed equipment. His quite weak breastplate was filled with memories, he sighed as he put it aside in the pile of “Necessary Things”. His longbow, arrows, breastplate, leather armour pads for both legs and arms and his hunting knife were all in the Pile of Necessary Things. As well his backpack with some bread and small, chopped pieces of fruit.

His sister came in, all dressed in white and golden hair. She walked in without a sound and kneeled down on the floor beside Vaele. She stroked him over the forehead and he turned his head slowly over to her and met her gaze. She looked sad, but Vaele knew that she was doing her best to hide it.

“I will come back sister.” He said and forced himself to smile.

“Be careful. I will not stand losing another brother cause of some meaningless fight.”

“I promise you I will return.” Vaele answered and rose up from the floor and began to strap on the armpads. As he came to the strapping on the breastplate around his back his sister helped him.

“Be brave Nilwèn, do not despair because of me. It will not help to griev.”

His sister rose up as well, her cheeks were red. “Do not play a hero!” She exclaimed, almost yelling at him with her lightest voice. He saw that she began to shiver, probably she cried but Vaele was not sure. Nilwèn ran out of the talan and Vaele stood in the middle of the room and looked with sad eyes after her. Vaele growled and took on his robe. He tried to ignore her and her emotional burst, instead focusing on what he had to do. He was not to let this interfere. His fingers nibbled on the robes silver clasp. Attempt after attempt he failed to fasten it.

After a cursing the clasp and a few more attempts without any luck, he managed to fasten it. He had never been good at practical things; doing things with his hands in general. He had never possessed that skill. He lifted up his backpack and took it on. He kept his bow hanging by his shoulder and his knife in the boot. He was all set to go. He left the talan, but stopped in the door opening and looked around in the talan for a moment. It had his been his talan for ages, his sanctuary, his oasis, and now he stood there knowing that he might never return to it again.

He stood for another moment, remembering all the times he had found peace in the quite small talan. He slowly closed the door and decided to bid farewell to his father. His father met him on the small lawn in front of the talan. They embraced as father and son, Vaeles father patted him in the back as he let go. He did not say anything, he didn’t have to, his eyes said it all. He was against it as well, he had complained about Vaeles decision from the day he mentioned that he had been thinking of signing up for it.

It surprised him, he thought his father would be more understanding than that.

“Farewell father.”

“Farewell my youngest son…” He stood quiet; closed his eyes and sighed. “Stay safe”

“I will.” Vaele said shortly and began to walk to the camp for the contingent which was stationed outside Caras Galadhon. He glanced back over his shoulder and saw his sister stand, beautiful and completely silent, looking after him as he walked. Her expression on her face was a memory he never forgot.

He walked lightly and swift, thinking he was already late. The darkness came closer over the talans and he wanted to get there as quick as possible. As he got closer he saw the banners and the many tents with preparations; archers checking their bows, captains giving orders. It was a constant alarm of noise.

“Archer, you are late.” Vaele heard a voice behind him, which sounded pretty annoyed. He turned to see who it was, and as he suspected it was the commander of their contingent.

“I beg your pardon, Commander…” Vaele said and half-bowed.

“Commander Eldegon” The tall, pale elf said with a remarkable superiority in his voice. He sighed and looked at Vaele, kind of examining his possible capabilities in combat. “Good at stealth? Scouting? We need a scout in the first rank. Someone swift and silent, a good hand with bows is appreciated, but by judging your equipment and yourself, you seem to be a pretty skilled archer.”

Vaele just nodded quite baffled. The elf talked clean and unusual quick. He must be in quite a stress, Vaele thought.

“Very well, get in the first rank and prepare yourself. We will march in the daybreak.”

Vaele walked over to where he was directed, the first rank in the lead. He was quite pleased with his given position, and being a scout fitted him well. He saw another elf from the first rank ahead. He wasn’t sure wether this was the first rank or not, so he walked over and asked the elf which appeared to be rather young. “Excuse me, friend, but is this the first rank?”

[Arestevana]

Here is my first post.
Pio: I've noticed that my post conflicts slightly with my bio as to the matter of Gilduin's joining the contingent. Is this permissible, or is there some way for me to adjust my bio accordingly?

-----

First Post: POSTED TO CHARACTER BIO ABOVE ~*~ Pio

Gilduin gazed at the sunlit trees of Laurelindórinan in silence, hearing little of the bustle that surrounded him. It had been many years since he had been so near Caras Galadhon, its protective walls extending in a gentle arc before him. Years ago they had welcomed him with the promise of safety, renewal, and fulfillment. Now they closed him out. Though he was not forbidden passage through the high green walls, he knew he could no more cross the white bridge of the Galadrim than he could return the golden leaves carpeting Lindórinan to their silver branches and reclaim the springtime of his youth.

Gilduin reluctantly withdrew from his revere as someone approached him. He took quick note of his surroundings. A stone’s throw to the north lay Caras Galadhon, its great mellyrn stretching sunward above them. Outside the city a great number of elves had gathered, many of them bearing weapons. He turned his attention to the elf who stood in front of him.
“Greetings, Gilduin Lindorion,” said the elf. “It has been many years since last I saw you. Where have been wandering?”
“In Greenwood the Great,” Gilduin replied slowly, adding belatedly, “Eldegon,” as he recalled the elf’s name. “Who calls the Galadrim to arms?”
“A messenger from the Ost-in-Edhil. We send a company to aid the Mírdain. Will you join us?”

Gilduin, caught off guard, felt himself pulling into a state of deep concentration. Though he had just returned to Lindórinan after years of roving, he needed nothing but what he had. He knew that Eldegon expected him to refuse. I do not want your pity. “I will join you,” Gilduin said at last. “Who commands the contingent?”
“I do.” Eldegon replied. If he was surprised at Gilduin’s decision, he did not show it. “What skill have you in combat?”
Gilduin thought a moment. “No sword-skill, if that’s what you mean. I have no close weapon, save my knife.” He showed Eldegon his dirk and longbow. “I’m a fair shot, and if needs be I can keep my head with a quarterstaff.”
Eldegon shook his head. “I have no need for archers. Three-score already are marching with us, and two-score swordsmen. Will you bear the standard?”
“I will.” Gilduin said, after a moment’s wondering at the request.

Eldegon nodded and led him a short ways south to a hill overlooking the wide clearing where the company was mustering. There he departed momentarily, leaving Gilduin to stare out over the many ranks of warriors. There were six ranks of archers, ten elves in each rank, and ahead of them four ranks of swordsmen. Behind the archers was a line of light wooden carts, laden with food and supplies for the march. The horses that would draw them were tethered a short ways away from the company.

Eldegon returned, carrying the standard of Lindórinan. “You said you could handle a quarterstaff. Can you keep formation while bearing a standard or polearm?” He asked, continuing when Gilduin nodded. “Good. You will march at the herald’s left, in the first rank with myself and my captains.” He handed the standard to Gilduin, who hefted it to feel its weight. The oaken shaft was straight and smooth, and the fabric of the banner, though light, was very strong.

“When do we march, commander?” Gilduin asked with a glance at the sun, which had long passed its zenith and was nearing the horizon.

“Not today,” Eldegon replied. “Tonight the captains meet with Lord Celeborn. Tomorrow we will march, or perhaps the day after.” With that, he nodded briskly to Gilduin and headed toward Caras Galadhon, pausing briefly to speak to another elf before continuing to the city’s gates.

Reluctantly, Gilduin hefted the standard in his hand and left his hilltop post, seeking out his place in the marching order. He reached the first rank and sought out the herald, introducing himself with as few words as possible and taking his place on the elf’s left. He glanced over his shoulder at the green-walled city as dusk crept over the restless company, a thin sliver of sun clinging desperately to the horizon on his right. One by one, lanterns appeared on the walls, until Caras Galadhon gleamed like a jewel, or perhaps a star which had wandered from its place in the darkening heavens. Beside him, the herald had lit a lantern, and by its light Gilduin noticed a green-garbed archer approaching the rank. He occupied himself with the standard and did his best to look busy, but the elf stopped directly in front of him.

Shying away from speech, as he so often did, Gilduin sought for the correct syllable by which to vocalize a noncommittal murmur. He wished to disappear, as did that final finger of golden sun in the face of inexorable night, as the elf addressed him.

“Excuse me, friend, but is this the first rank?”

[piosenniel]

Arestevana

You can rewrite the section of your bio that you want to change and post it here on the discussion thread - I'll move it up to the bio for your character that I moved over from the Planning Thread.

Because I posted it, you can't go into your bio from this thread - so just copy the section that needs changing from the green on black screen and paste it to Word or to a new post box and fix away.

~*~ Pio