Númenórean Blood Runs Black Planning/Discussion Thread

[Folwren]

Hallo, all! I’ve just read over (most) everybody’s character bio’s and first posts. This looks like it’s going to be a lot of fun. Lot of good writers.

Originally posted by The Perky Ent:
Anyone else need information on your character? Please speak up, as I love giving out this kind of info

Yes, I do have some question about my character...I guess they’re probably a lot of the same question Alcarillo will be asking.

Firstly, about the ship. I’m playing the part of a Sea Captain. Therefore, I’m assuming that my ship is generally out at sea. Most of my knowledge of ships have to do with an 1814 frigate, or man-of-war. Needless to say, there are going to be many differences between those sorts of ships and the type that I’ll be writing about (mainly because we don’t have cannons in Middle-Earth), but I wouldn’t be surprised if the ship that I’m to captain has maybe three masts, as the frigates did. So, my question is, is my ship going to be like a frigate with three masts and square sails (except for a few, which were triangle).

Another question - what’s the Navy discipline like? I’m assuming that I’m on a ship from the navy...I don’t think that a merchant ship would be much good in this war.

How many people are going to be on board? What’s the usual crew number?

In ME (poor Perky...hope all these questions don’t bother you a terrible amount), would they have all of the other warrant officers? Sailing Master, Left Tenant, so forth and so on. Perhaps under slightly different names, but still holding the same responsibility?

Quite simply with all my questions rolled into one - what are the details of Gondorian ships and their navy? (Navy seems like a very Earth like word, though.)

Or, better yet, perhaps you could give me something that I could read for research on this subject.

Hope I’m not a bother. And I’m still working on my bio and such.

-- Folwren

[The Perky Ent]

...





*twitch*







...






....ok. Yeah....I'll get back to you on that...

[Folwren]

*blushes*

Sorry.

[piosenniel]

ABOUT SHIPS OF GONDOR

We really have no clear picture of what the Gondorian Navy was like. We can assume they were fairly advanced, since they drew on the ship/sailing knowledge/skills of the Numenoreans.

I'm sure the ships will be ships of war, not merchant type since this is a battle oriented RPG.

Since both the ships from Gondor will paraticipate in the battles, what I would suggest is that Folwren and Alcarillo PM or discuss on the planning thread how they would like their ships to be, how they're manned, what sorts of equipment they want on them, etc. They don't have to be exactly the same.

As long as there is some consistency between the two Gondor Navy ships, it should be fine.

HERE'S and interesting site for looking at ships - you can also check out the section on ships in Resources for RPG's in the Shire for info about sailing in general - types of ships, nautical terminology, etc.

Hope this helps!

~*~ Pio

[The Perky Ent]

S'alright! That's what I get for being sick and lazy

Don't be suprised if some things happen to your ship that you won't expect (This is why I love being the person who has a big book of secrets and saves them for least-expected moments)! Hi, I'm Perky and I'll be your Neptune for this journey! Don't be surprised if your ship randomly splits in half from the bottom (Is he joking?!? ), or sinks below into the abyss. Constant vigilance! hehe, I just had to say that. Yes, some captain unity would be good. Also leaves some opportunity to interact with Firefoot! I've got several Corsair resources I'm gonna type up shortly!

[Folwren]

Thanks so much for the link, Pio! I'll be doing research on that site for more than RPing...

I'll also write Alcarillo.

What do you mean, Perky?! Are you going to destroy my beautiful ship sometime? That's going to be a depressing day.

Edit: One last thing! Playing the role of a Captain, and having to write the history of him, I need to know - do you think that they would have trained captains and officers as they did back in the 1800's? (Really, if you haven't picked up on it yet, I don't know much about ships out of that time period.) As in, whilst a boy, he decides he wants to join, goes in, and is one of the 'young gentlemen' and learns on board ship, living there, doing the work, learning from the Captain and ship's tutor, makes his way up from there, and eventually is rated Captain? I doubt Tolkien thought about that too much, so if no one has any opinion one way or another on this matter, Alcarillo and I can figure it out.

-- Folwren

[piosenniel]

War ships/Pirate ships

Pirate Ships

HERE

HERE

HERE

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And please do check out the Resources for RPG thread in the Shire for nautical terms.

[piosenniel]

Hi Perky -

Just letting you know that dancing spawn of ungoliant, a newcomer to Barrow Downs RPG's, will be joining the game as the other Corsair Slave.

~*~ Pio

[Hiriel]

PLACED ON DISCUSSION THREAD ~*~ PIO

Ok, revised post up.
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RPG's I'm currently involved in: None
RPG's I've played in: None
Inns I’ve posted at: I've posted in the Green Dragon.

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Hiriel's character


NAME: Azaryan

AGE: 89

RACE: Umbarian Male

WEAPONS: Azaryan is most skilled with a broad falchion, serrated in an almost wavelike pattern at the tip to leave a particular mark on its victims. He also carries a recurve bow, painted black and carved with eyes at both ends. More for superstition’s sake than anything else, he wears around his neck a dagger that belonged to Castamir himself, and carries an arming sword in the tradition of warriors of Numenor, although he isn’t particularly fond of using either of them.

APPEARANCE: Much to his chagrin, Azaryan is short for one of Numenorian blood, standing only 5’6”, though he is of imposing build. His eyes are beady gray, and intense. His raven hair is kept short, curling a little under his ears. Almost his entire body, certainly his countenance, is harsh and pronounced, as if worn away by waves on a coast. This is only added to by a scar that runs parallel to his jawline, which gives him a look of cruel amusement, a second war-made smile.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Focused to the point of mania, Azaryan is a man bred with one purpose in mind – the retaking of Gondor for the Castamirioni –which he follows with a ruthless energy and obsession. He is somber and distrustful, but calculated and a brilliant mind. Though fair spoken and persuasive, he detests people, and would rather be left to himself, sometimes doubting his abilities as a commander and bitterly regretting his lineage. Probably because of this, he is given to a fierce temper and a menacing nature, save when it serves his ends to act otherwise. His only real release is in raiding, when he can assert in glorious battle the dominance of the Castamirioni, and take one more step towards the realization of all his passions and labors.

HISTORY: Born in 1721, Azaryan was the firstborn son of Zigurada and Angamaite, whose three greats grandsire was Castamir the Usurper, and thus groomed early to be lord of Umbar, though his sister Zairia was four years his elder. Tutored to be severe and commanding, any exuberance he had was quickly flogged out of the boy as he began studies of combat, language, and his family’s history. After a plague ravaged Umbar in his tenth year, killing both his sister and mother, Azaryan was rather unceremoniously sent away to sea, and rarely saw home for the next thirty years as he learned seamanship, waterways and tactics.

At forty he became a captain in his own right, and began making more aggressive moves further and further along the Gondorian coast, until towards the end of a routine refitting, his father became sick and was obliged to stay on the mainland lest he should have to succeed him. Thus stymied, he again set about his academic studies, this time mostly of ancient battles and strategies. The only person with whom he made any attempt to associate with was his younger cousin, whose intelligence impressed him but who he had only met on a handful of occasions.

His father lingered on for a good four years ere Azaryan could succeed him, and some say the son had to take matters into his own hands for anything to change. Obliged to come out of his solitude, Azaryan set about taking more control over the raids against Gondor, and prosecuted them with a greater ferocity. He has left most of the physical governing up to others, though sporadically he paid domestic business the same attention he gave his navy. At seventy-two, he ordered the building of a much larger fleet, indebting himself somewhat to his Haradric neighbors. But now that fleet is almost entirely manned and ready, he senses a weakness in Gondor’s lack of response and frustration about the success of his assaults; and feels that perhaps, in his lifetime, he might see the Eldacarioni fall, and take back Gondor as part of his rightful kingdom.


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Hiriel's post

A tortured wail rose up from the ribs as Lord Azaryan paced. He sighed slowly, closing his eyes and letting the wooden moans relax his muscles. A terrible headache churned within his temples, and so he allowed the groans to wash over him, a rough but steadying chorus. He had always liked the sound of waves belowdecks better than on shore, the clash of water on wooden shield. It was like some grand ancient battle.

He loitered in the relative solitude of the armory, liking to take ease in unusual places. It took longer for anyone to interrupt him, and it gave the greenhand ensigns a good scare to have to look for their lord and captain from mess to forecastle, wardroom to deepest hold, not knowing what corner he would be waiting around to yell at them. He smiled at the thought, glad to be back at sea again. All matters of supplies, gold, crime and court were put aside, and only important things left were stealth and wind and tide. It had been too long.

But, then, there had been much to plan for this voyage. Gondor, the tiring old eagle, usually ventured some response to the corsair raids that were rapidly becoming a way of life along the coast. In the last few months, however, the gnats of Dol Amroth and other coastal garrisons sat silent, suffering any abuse from his fleet without retaliation. Azaryan started pacing the squat room faster and found himself knocking into stacks of spears and quivers in his fiendish glee, half tripping over the toppled weapons in his energy.

They must be weak. There is no other reason why Telumehtar would not protect his own. They must be panicked. Nay, deperate. Ha! I may yet see the White City.” Twitching, he licked his lips and his thoughts skipped, leaping from one glorious picture to the next: This raid raising Pelegir, corsair ships landing up and down the coast, Dol Amroth in flames, the great fleet the Haradrim were still clamoring payment over pulling into Harlond, Telumehtar knelling, weeping before him at the base of the white throne. Feeling more elated than he had all day, Azaryan now bit his lip and began running over the plans of attack on Pelegir over again in his mind. If the river town was neutralized, then, only with greatest speed could he move the fleet to Harlond and Osgiliath. The army of Umbar was too small to take on Gondor’s in a pitched battle, but an assault on the Harlond and Osgiliath might cow it. The thought quickened his breath.

“Enough strategy, Azar,” A warm voice chuckled, rolling like a swell, and knocked him out of his reverie. “I have done nothing to suggest that was what my mind was turned to,cousin.” He recovered, recognizing the voice of Lord Sangalazin, his own like the crack of a spar. “Why else would a sea lord cloister himself for three hours in a cramped armory?” The man framing the doorway asked with mock innocence. “I see no reason to explain myself or my actions to you, and indeed I have no need to.” Azaryan cut back airily. “How goes it, then?” “There are a lot of ‘ifs’ yet, and the mouth of the Anduin is our most pressing problem at the moment. Telumehtar knows the river, and so we must evade the eyes he plants its coast.” His face dimmed, frowning at as his problems and dragging down his features.

“That may not be so. We’re in sight of land, Azar, inside the very mouth of the river and not even a fishing boat to great us.” Azaryan started; This was news that stabbed at his gut. “Than either he either he is a fool or an ungracious host.” He frowned deep, his grip on his settings slipping as he absorbed this information. “Well, I think we would both rather him a fool. Indeed, he and I would have something in common, I agreeing to come on this silly venture.” The wry comment brought him back to the armory. “Stop trying to be witty. I can dismember you at will for demeaning the importance of our military endevours this day.” Sangalazin only gave lopsided grin to the terse threat.
“That’s what makes it so fun, cousin.”

Azaryan growled in the back of his throat. Ever had Salgalazin been petty and lacked the proper focus for a lord of Umbar. Only his sharp intelligence, far greater than any other of his family, redeemed him. Not willing to be sidetracked by his cousin’s foolishness, Azaryan plodded on. “We know at least that Telumehtar is not one. But perhaps he falters. Perhaps Umbar’s threat has undone him and he sweats and frets on that great marble perch of his. I can think of no other reason he does not act against us. Regardless, we will give him something to fret about, pompous Eldacarioni.” He spat the last sentence out, a solemn vow.

“Then we should begin by going ondeck.” Azaryan nodded, bared a quick, vicious grin, and followed the beaconing figure out of the ships’ bowls and into the fresh sea air.

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Edit by Pio - just for easy transfer to the Discussion Thread

[Folwren]

Originally posted by Perky:
Folwren, yeah...I might need a little more. Just a little more about your characters depth, or what's going on around him. Also, for your history, I think there's one problem with it. By the time of your character's birth, Osgiliath would have already been an almost ghost town, since the plague had destoryed most of it. Do you think he could live elsewhere, or was he really living in the decaying city? Otherwise, it's a good character sheet.

Okay, then, I can write more. Little problem there, I'm sure.

And, yes, I can definitely fix the Osgiliath thing. *blushes for not the first time this thread* I had my doubts when I wrote that, but I didn't know for a fact if it was possible or impossible. I'll fix it sometime this evening or tomorrow.

Till later.

-- Folwren

[piosenniel]

Folwren

The city of Osgiliath may be decayed -- but the captain could certainly come from one of the holdings about the city proper. There would still be people living there. And it's a scant 15 miles or less from Osgiliath to Minas Anor Minas.

Your choice, Folwren.

~*~ Pio

[Alcarillo]

PLACED ON DISCUSSION THREAD ~*~ PIO


Here's my character for the RPG. Tell me if anything's amiss!

And shouldn't Minas Tirith still be called Minas Anor? I don't want to force everybody to redo their character bios, but it's called Minas Anor in the years 1636 and 1900 in the timeline in ROTK, and our story takes place between the two dates.

1.) Have you ever played in an RPG at the Barrow Downs? – YES/NO - Which one?

I'm playing one at the moment, but besides from that one, nope.

2.) How many RPG’s on the Barrow Downs are you currently involved in?

Red Flows the Sirannon

3.) Have you posted in The Green Dragon Inn – Yes, I have
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For your character please include:

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Alcarillo's character


NAME: Captain Mirimon Vórimandur

AGE: 83 years

RACE: Man, Gondorian

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: Captain Vórimandur's favorite weapon is a family heirloom: a sword from Númenor named Sercendil. The guard is set with a single sapphire on each side. The hilt is bound in blue cloth. A ranga long, the sword is more of an ornament than a weapon and Captain Vórimandur is hesitant to use it, lest it be damaged. He prefers to use a short spear when boarding enemy ships, and there's always a healthy supply onboard. In addition to his sword, Vórimandur also has a yew bow, about three feet long. He uses it when the Ráca is coming alongside an enemy ship within bow range.

When it comes to armor, Captain Vórimandur settles for a breastplate engraved with an image of the White Tree and a set of pauldrons for his soldiers (all of which is meticulously polished hours before battle). Sometimes he also wears a chain-mail skirt extending to his knees.

APPEARANCE: Captain Vórimandur is six feet and four inches tall, evidence of Númenorean ancestry. His slightly wavy hair is a fading black mixed with silvery grey at the temples. His hair is long and covers his ears, but it does not reach much further. In back it touches the base of his neck. He has a scrawny moustache and beard of a salt-and-pepper color. It's little more than overgrown stubble. His eyes are green, his nose is aquiline, and his skin is dark and lined from his travels. His shoulders are wide, and his arms are strong after years of a life at sea.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Captain Vórimandur is most noted for his strong dislike of anything even remotely related to Umbar and the South. He's picked up this grudge during his years at sea fighting the Corsairs, and especially when the first ship he fought on was destroyed off the coast of Belfalas.

Captain Vórimandur is also competitive. He strives to be the first to destroy a particular enemy ship in battle, for instance, and pushes his men to great extents to reach it. Together with his hated for Umbar and his ability to think on his feet, he makes a fierce enemy in battle.

Vórimandur loves his ship and his crew, but is also a stern leader, and punishes those who disobey his authority as any captain would. He has a taste for fancy dress, which means that he fights every battle in dazzling armor and a swirling cape. He seems a little eccentric to the other captains.

HISTORY: Mirimon Vórimandur was born in the year 1727 of the Third Age in Minas Anor. His father, Vanyacar, was the innkeeper of the Galloping Horse. His mother, Eruvande, helped her husband by doing chores around the inn. Mirimon Vórimandur's childhood was spent at the inn and earning a small salary doing chores. he didn't have many friends his own age, but he did befriend many of the inn's frequent visitors: sailors, soldiers, and travelers.

Vórimandur lived at the Galloping Horse until he was sixteen years old, when he joined the navy, inspired by the tales told by the inn's guests. He first served aboard the ship Telpelingwë as a deckhand, but after many years of fine seamanship he rose through the ranks to third in command. The ship was sunken fifteen years later off the coast of Belfalas, when it was attacked by two Corsair vessels. Vórimandur and the other survivors escaped clinging to the Telpelingwë's wreckage. They were rescued by the Eärmacil and taken to Linhir. Vórimandur never forgave the Corsairs for what they did to the Telpelingwë, and still has a deep grudge for anything from the south.

Vórimandur now stayed off the seas for some years, and returned to Minas Anor. Here he tended the Galloping Horse with his mother (his father had died of a particularly vile fever while Vórimandur was aboard the Telpelingwë). He soon fell in love with a local seamstress, Lothwen, and in 1758 they married. Vórimandur's daughter Morwen was born five years later.

Vórimandur was content running the inn, but he still felt the desire to work with ships once more. The opportunity came in 1776, when he joined the crew of the Ráca. He replaced a dead navigator, and soon his earlier experience helped Vórimandur make his way up to second-in-command, next to Captain Brithion.

The Ráca patrolled the waters about Tolfalas. She was a larger vessel than the Telpelingwë, and had a larger crew, and more soldiers. Vórimandur was back on the high seas on a dazzling ship. She had many battles with the Corsairs, and won most of them. Vórimandur's wealth and fame grew until he and his family bought a mansion on Minas Anor's fifth level, where he stayed with Lothwen and Morwen between voyages.

In 1789 Captain Brithion was killed in a battle with the Corsairs by falling rigging. Vórimandur became the ship's captain, and since then his skill in battle has caught the attention of King Telumehtar. Now, Captain Vórimandur relishes the opportunity to strike at the heart of the Corsairs' empire.

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Alcarillo's post

Captain Vórimandur paced his office in the Ráca's stern impatiently. He and his crew had woken up before sunrise to prepare for this voyage. For long hours they packed all of their food, weapons, clothing, sea charts, and other necessities into the ship. Then they checked for sails for tears, and then the decks were swabbed until the Ráca was the cleanest ship for leagues in all directions. Captain Vórimandur had put forth all of his effort to ready the ship, but now the only thing to prevent them from sailing to victory and glory was the King of Gondor himself. It was now nearing midafternoon, and King Telumehtar had not arrived. Thrice already had Captain Vórimandur asked the king's attendant on the pier when the king would arrive, and each time the answer was the same: soon.

He could barely wait any longer to sail off. The thrill of a new voyage pounded in Captain Vórimandur's heart. He opened the stern windows wide and searched the docks for any sign of the king, but there was none. He sighed and leaning against the window frame watched the sailors of the other ships prepare. Maybe we shouldn't have began so early.

"Sir?" a sailor stepped through the open cabin door, and Captain Vórimandur turned his head from the window. It was Caradhril, a trusted navigator, and a member of the Ráca's crew for nearly three years now. Caradhril cleared his throat and said, "Sir, the sailors are getting bored. There's nothing more to do. Some of them are wandering the docks and the other ships."

"Really?" Captain Vórimandur was surprised and had not thought about what the sailors were doing at the moment. He sat at his desk, ornately carved with nautical symbols. "Tell Morgond to round up the sailors. I want all of them back on the ship by the time the king arrives." He considered for a moment what sort of punishment should await them. Then a silver trumpet blared somewhere on the pier.

"The king has arrived! Caradhril, hurry!" Vórimandur said. Caradhril turned and ran into the deep hallways of the Ráca. It was all those new sailors from Lossarnach, unused to how life on a ship worked. Vórimandur moved back to the stern windows to catch a good look at the king, and to keep an eye out for his wandering sailors.

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Darn, Aman, I wanted the xebec! But you beat me to it fair and square.


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Note: Edit just to set up for easy transfer to the Discussion Thread ~*~ Pio