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Old 06-07-2004, 09:06 AM   #161
Hama Of The Riddermark
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I wasn't saying I disapproved, I was just curious...
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Old 06-07-2004, 01:59 PM   #162
piosenniel
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Durelin

How about I just change the word 'Easterling' to 'Southron' in the Charactrers Needed section? Both Aman's and Aylwen's characters are of the Haradrim race, also - and they are supposed to be 'Easterling' militia leaders.

Easterlings would be mostly the Dunlendings, peoples around Rhun, etc.

Sound ok?

~*~ Pio
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Old 06-07-2004, 05:36 PM   #163
Durelin
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Pio - If this will mend any controversies that might arise, and it will not effect the characters of either Aman or Aylwen, then this is certainly fine with me. I do not believe that a minor change such as this will effect the game, but, as it mainly effect's their characters, it is really up to Aylwen and Aman.

And please know that I am going over these bios thoroughly, and, unfortunately, rather slowly. I have been doing so in between studying for exams, so I thank you for your patience.

Kransha - Excellently written, and a good, nasty orc character. He fits well in his position and in the game. Very nicely done. Consider yourself a part of the game! The one thing is that I originally had the army gathering away from Dol Guldur, though I like how it was used in your post, and I realize that it is not necessary for the game for the army to assemble elsewhere.

Would it be alright with everyone if we changed the army's starting location once more? *sigh* I know: make up your mind! But trying to deal with some obscue location just isn't necessary. I hope this doesn't require editing for Aman's and Aylwen's posts...?

Firefoot - A very good job, as well. I like your character's personality very much, and his history is relatively well devised. I hope that, as the game unfolds, his good relationship with Calenvása will remain so. Welcome aboard, as well.

Don't panick, Hama Of The Riddermark or The Perky Ent! I am still working on going over your bios. I will get back to you on them soon.

And thank you, Orofaniel, for submitting a bio. I'm very glad you're interested in playing.

*Note to all those who have submitted bios, particularly those already accepted(and already dedicated characters might want to, as well!) - Please go over your bios and first posts again to check for errors. I know I sound very picky, but I believe it is worth the little bit of effort to make things professional! Call me a perfectionist!

-Durelin

Last edited by Durelin; 06-07-2004 at 07:09 PM.
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Old 06-07-2004, 06:13 PM   #164
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Thanks very much! I am really looking forward to playing in this game.

I have also made one or two very minor changes in my post about the Southrons etc.
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Old 06-07-2004, 06:26 PM   #165
Kransha
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As, Firefoot stated, thanks! I must duly apologize to Orofaniel for...ummm..'ousting' the desired position. I hope my meager, yet evil character shall do the position justice, as I have long looked forward to writing someone more than a little evil (ah, the fun I'm going to have).

In reference to what Durelin said, I have noticed some errors, but I am unfortunately unable to fix them, since the post containing my bio and first post was posted by pio and not myself. Luckily, there are only a few (one being the presence of an adjective surplus), and perhaps someone could suggest a quick solution. If not, there is little need to quibble over such a small matter.

Yet again, thanks, Durelin, and I profusely look forward to RPing alongside all of you.

P.S. If I discover a way to edit, I would be willing to somehow alter the location, while still leaving in the descriptive paragraphy about Dol Guldur. Whatever you prefer.
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Old 06-07-2004, 06:56 PM   #166
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Kransha

I have PM'd your Character Bio and First Post to you. Please edit and then place the edited version on the Discussion Thread.

Thanks!

~*~ Pio
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Old 06-07-2004, 07:07 PM   #167
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Here is the edit, with thanks to pio for re-sending the bio.

Durelin, this new version has it that the camp is near Dol Guldur, but not at it. Since I've already edited thus, feel free to nitpick anything else and I'll willingly oblige.

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

Kransha - for Orc Captain

1.) Have you ever played in an RPG at the Barrow Downs? - Yes, The Legacy of Traitors and A Land to Call Their Own

2.) How many RPG’s on the Barrow Downs are you currently involved in? - The Legacy of Traitors

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

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

NAME: Thrákmazh

AGE: Unknown

RACE: Orc

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: Thrákmazh carries a number of weapons, but uses his bow most. He has an orcish short bow with bolts that still have the lingering dried blood of his slain foes on their jagged tips. He uses tough, leathery animal hides for his quiver and bow’s handgrip and has smeared the life blood of his enemies over the wood as a sort of prize (some say he can still remember the owner of each dulled scarlet path on it). He rarely obtains new arrows, instead retrieving the original shafts after combat. He also carries a common orc scimitar, rusty and chipped in many places with contorted, twisting, gnarled curves designed to elicit the utmost pain from those foes smitten down by it, which he uses in close combat, and a smaller dagger-like scimitar for emergencies that is always tucked into his belt beneath the folds and dangling fringes of his tattered excuse for armor. He carries no shield, rarely coming into close combat. He can adapt to most lightweight swords and knives but is not half as good with them as he is with his bow.

APPEARANCE: Generally orcish in appearance. He is very thin, almost emaciated, but still muscular. He is stumpy-legged, long-armed, has piercing red slits for eyes and has skin the color of charred wood, though it is still lighter in color than many orcs. He wears pilfered metal plates and patches of chain mail riveted together to make a crude kind of armor with some leather, cloth, and fur to keep it in one piece as a primitive hauberk and tunic. He bears one full plate of armor which he patched onto his chest and painted, in bright red, the heraldic device of his master, the Eye of Sauron. Spikes and an assortment of blades are also attached to his ‘uniform’ to make him more intimidating. His eyes are narrow slits of green, despite the fact that he only has one. He lost his left eye in a fight and still bears a jagged scar across that side of his face, but it is rumored that the loss of his eye actually made him a more acute archer. He is swift and has a steady arm, but is otherwise weak and small. His face, minus the one eye, is bird-like in its sharpness. His nose is like a hooked beak and neck is craned forward. His mouth is filled with broken yellowed teeth, with many bicuspids missing. He has a small hump on his back with skinny arms and legs that hang down limp when not in use.

PERSONALITY: Thrákmazh is a cold and calculating orc who probably talks too much for his own good. For an orc, he is clever, and always seems to have the right response for everything, even though he’s really very dim-witted by human or elf standards. He knows a lot of big words in the common tongue, which impresses some orcs. He has a sniveling and disgusting nature, seeming to crawl around everywhere and always be right behind when you least suspect it, but that is overshadowed by his growing ego, which he has developed into an art form. He is a particularly sadistic orc, to back up all his talk, and gets a sick sense of pleasure out of causing pain to anyone, including other orcs. His strength lies in his archery prowess and cunning, but his overly talkative and insulting attitude, as well as the fact that he often leaves opponents alive for too long, toying with them before the final blow, serve as major weaknesses. The latter flaw cost him his right eye, but he continues to indulge it despite that.

Thrákmazh was once rarely overconfident, but his firm backing by other orcs sometimes goes to his head. He likes to come off as stronger and more regal than he appears, though it is harder for someone of his irrepressible nature to seem the least bit noble. After numerous minor war wounds, he has become a little stiffer, and is probably older than many other orcs, though he does not know his own birth date anyway. He is not wise in his age, but maintains a youthful orcish verve and all the experience he gained after many years in the field, mostly battling elves. Above all other things, he despises elves and trees, and would take any chance he got to dispose of either one entirely. He thinks himself (and others agree) that he is a mighty orator among orcs, and an equally strong booster of orcs’ bloodthirsty morale with his fanatical devotion to his master, Sauron.

HISTORY: A devoted servant of Sauron, Thrákmazh worked his way up through the disorganized ranks of the orc military by gaining ill-gotten respect from his uruk peers. Those who serve under him and share his position talk of him with a legendary air, as if he is some mythic enigma among orc-kind. Thrákmazh always knew that he was not, but there are many tales told about him that were true.

Before Thrákmazh had seen many battles, he entered a battle with elves that overwhelmed a large raiding party of which he was a member, during the days long before the Necromancer occupied Dol Guldur, an age prior. During the course of the battle, the orc party was forced to flee deeper into the forest. Only Thrákmazh and a few others remained, by now forced to embrace defeat but not submitting. Thrákmazh, in single combat with one of the Silvan elves, was gravely wounded, losing his eye in the process. But, amazingly, he continued to fight. Using his bow, he slew the elf had who had wounded him and several others before being forced to flee the field himself, an eye shorter and several Elvish looted trinkets richer. Other stories abound about Thrákmazh, like how the loss of his eye honed his skill as an archer, making him, supposedly, on of the best orcish archers who ever lived. He also knows this to be a fabrication, but he is one of the better archers in the orc forces of Dol Guldur. He is a skilled uruk warrior, and well-renowned for being so.

When the Wise discovered the Necromancer’s whereabouts in Dol Guldur, he was forced to flee to Mordor. Thrákmazh and the orcs who had fallen under his command as Dol Guldur began to organize had to disperse as the surrounding lands of Middle-Earth took notice of Sauron’s presence in Mirkwood. For roughly ten years after the discovery, many orcish companies were reduced to becoming primitive raiders in Mirkwood, taking stabs at the Elves of the wood with several unsuccessful ventures. After ten years, in the year 2951 of the Third Age, the Nazgul of Sauron returned to recapture the fortress of Dol Guldur. They easily did so, bringing many of their own commanded uruk parties with them. Thrákmazh, by now leading many of the dispersed orcs who’d remained in Mirkwood, gathered together those who followed them and went to Dol Guldur, vowing allegiance to the Nazgul. Though Thrákmazh did not appreciate the presence of the Ringwraiths, he paid lip service to them all the same and was repaid with a second promotion.

Now a renowned figure among orcs of Mirkwood, Thrákmazh began embellishing his own image. He developed that image carefully, molding himself into a formidable role model for other orcs. He became, unlike other orcs, a cleverer, less blunt military figure, a tactician and strategist looked up to in some ways by those he commanded. He remained an orc at heart, as cruel and as single-minded as ever, but was trusted by the other uruks of Dol Guldur to command many. He was swiftly given command of a section of the army mustered on Amon Lanc, which was headed for yet another, stronger, more decisive attack on Lorien.

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

Kransha's post

One cold eye, a narrow slit set deep into the bare skull of the eye’s owner, scanned the tranquility and peace around them. The eye, though icy like winter frost, bore a shrouded fire behind it that glowed like a dying ember, still persistent enough to glow with pale and sickly light. The limpid orb moved from side to side, over viewing the surrounding area, the eyelids that held it narrowing further each time the looker saw something that displeased him. His single dark pupil would focus and shrivel into a precise dot as it scoped out the undesirable object obstructing his line of sight. The hill of Amon Lanc was devoid of trees, a piece of barren rock and earth jutting up from the forested plain of Mirkwood not too far from where the orc squatted contemplatively. From that hill spurted Dol Guldur itself, the malevolent fortress, its reaches stretching upward into the cloudy sky and its shadow looming over all things nearby. Unfortunately, some trees, though in their final days of life, still stood at the bottom of the hill.

Like many other of his kind, Thrákmazh hated trees, even the broken, dead ones. He hated all trees, every solitary leaf, arching branch, twisting root, and wooden knothole, everything about them. There were too many blasted trees in Mirkwood and Thrákmazh had long dreamt of taking a sturdy ax to all of them. As he knelt, rough-skinned knees creased beneath him, he could almost here the snapping of splinters from great trunks and the whistling in the wind as each column on natural beauty plummeted from its niche in the earth and crashed into Mirkwood’s rich soil. Slowly, the uruk’s hand lowered, the gnarled branches jutting from his dangling hand, which some might call fingers, and his jagged-nailed digits dug thoroughly into the dirt, closing slowly and drawing a handful of the crumbling substance out, lifting it into the air and letting stray particles slide out of his ruthlessly clenched fist and back onto the ground.

Slowly standing, Thrákmazh’s fist tightened around the dirt, stopping the meager slippage. He stood fully, still hunched over as he took a step forward, letting all the crumbs of earth fall. He was surrounded by others of his species, still lingering and talking in tense whispers in the dirt, just below the vaguely looming mound of the hill of Amon Lanc far off. They were slowly gathering, with the reinforcements of wretched men in the service of the Lidless Eye who had camped on the dusty, forested plain some unknown distance from the fortress of Dol Guldur. It was to be a great force indeed, rivaling many armies rallied in the Misty Mountains and the South, but still not as great as the grandest of Sauron’s hosts. To Thrákmazh, it was merely an event, an event in which he could shed all the blood he wanted, ever standing out from the blind, raging hundreds of orcs who swarmed into this foully shrouded clearing of what had once been Greenwood the Great, on the slope of Amon Lanc. They were to depart shortly, heading from the place that very few of them had ever considered calling home to the detestable woodland home of the Elves, Lorien, which Thrákmazh had already fantasized about razing to the ground, severing every one of the grandest trees from their hold on Arda and setting flame to the land. At this shadowy thought, he grinned, lips peeling back grotesquely. He let the rest of the gripped dirt loose, opening his palm to the ground as he began to speak aloud.

“This earth lacks something” he growled through a mouth of dagger-like teeth, his raspy, deep voice resonating like the hiss of a serpent and the croak of a toad as its volume slowly swelled. The other gurgling uruks, perhaps fifty who heard, turned to him, his cold and grim tone too recognizable to many of them. Thrákmazh, as if he hadn’t noted that their deep-set eyes had turned to him, continued with a kind of excited sobriety, “…It lacks the seasoning of blood…This soil has gone too long without tasting death upon it.”

At this, the other orcs nodded in agreement, some smiling horrible smiles, other simply acknowledging his ‘correctness’ about the matter. Many responded with orcish jubilation, thumped their hands and weapons on the earth to signify their support. Those orcs sitting or reclining sluggishly out of earshot still picked up the brief reverberation, and answered with thrilled grunts and roars of their own. Thrákmazh’s grin widened murderously, but it was brimming with an unusual self-satisfaction as he continued pacing, kicking up the dust. Making these melodramatic tirades against the foes of Sauron was a gimmick, one that furthered his persona. At first, it had been a morale booster, which was something the conniving uruk was good at, but soon enough the habit swelled into a method of casting a new façade over himself, which made him all the greater in the eyes of those around him. He could cultivate his persona, re-inventing it daily, and bring more eager young orcs to him seeking advice on who to slay elf scouts, or to ambush patrols from the north, all because of the pseudo-epic mythos he’d allowed to spring up. The orc captain did not care for glory, but the feeling of hearing orcs behind him and only him, comparing the number of kills they had to his own, heaping praise upon him for things he new to be false, but still filled him with that same satisfaction of knowing that, to a world of villains, he was a hero. As he paced away through the ranks of resting orcs, seemingly countless in their number as the dotted the innards of Mirkwood, he feigned serious contemplation as he shot a roving glance back at the orcs behind.

Some of these, Thrákmazh knew; orcs who’d followed him for a longer length of time than these new recruits, who seemed to be spilling into Mirkwood these days, but Thrákmazh didn’t care. He had orcs to do the will of the Eye, and he had himself to issue those commands that the Eye required. He had all he needed in Mirkwood, all he needed that his masters in Mordor would ever give, and was content as long as he could still kill men and elves and dwarves as the monotonous days passed. One thing he did not need, or want, were the foul things that had infected Mirkwood…men, Easterling men, suddenly spurting up from the ground like those confounded trees. They had mostly populated this camp, were the army was preparing, and more came by the second. Their forces were not as great when compared to the numbers of the uruks, but they were formidable all the same. They had gathered in camps that speckled Mirkwood, mostly centered on a single camp where the weak mortal clans were congregating.

‘Too many filthy men.’ snarled Thrákmazh mentally, breathing harshly like a furious predator after his prey has eluded him. ‘When this is over, and we have the blood of the elves on our blades and our bolts they can fall too. The Great Eye has no need of traitorous mortals in his service. Slaying them would be a service to Lugburz.'
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Last edited by Kransha; 07-28-2004 at 09:05 AM.
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Old 06-08-2004, 03:14 PM   #168
Hama Of The Riddermark
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Added a little to my first post, a bit o inspiration just hit me, I hope that its alright...
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Old 06-08-2004, 03:43 PM   #169
piosenniel
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Oro - PLEASE CHECK YOUR PM'S

I’m trying to bring these characters in line with what was asked for. I’ve PM’d Aman and Aylwen so that I can change their character designations to:

Southron (formerly designated as Easterling) Captain of the Special Dol Guldur forces: – Aman (See Dedicated Players List for this)

Southron (formerly designated as Easterling) grunt soldier of the Special Dol Guldur forces – Aylwen (See Dedicated Players List for this)

Since both of their characters are also described by them as Haradrim (Southrons)

Easterlings are Dunlanders, Men of Rhun, Wildmen of the Hills – they are not Haradrim.

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

So, Oro, I am changing the designation for your character – to Southron Captain of the MAIN Dol Guldur forces. You will not need to change your bio or post, then.

Your character as described right now is one of the Haradrim - not an Easterling.

He will be, should your submission be accepted, a Southron captain - I'll go back and edit Easterling out completely.

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

There are 2 Dol Guldur forces in the Game:

Your character is captain of the main Dol Guldur forces. He needs to be a Southron Captain if you are going to have him be Haradrim

The other Captain (Aman's dedicated character) is of the special Dol Guldur forces

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

It’s either this – where no one has to change their bios or first posts – or all the supposed Easterlings will need to bring their characters in line with what someone of the Easterling designation is supposed to be like.

Last edited by piosenniel; 06-08-2004 at 04:40 PM.
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Old 06-08-2004, 07:12 PM   #170
Durelin
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Orofaniel - Please disregard my PM. I was in a rush, and, once again, my thoughts were unorganized. If the part of a Haradrim captain of the main forces is what you still wish to play, I will be getting back to you on your bio shortly.

The Perky Ent - I find your character a very interesting one, and the history is extremely well done. But, I think a little more is needed to describe both your character's appearance and personality, with more needed the latter. Also, as always, I remind you to review it and be nitpicky!

Hama Of The Riddermark - I think more is needed for your character's personality as well. I'd like a little more of an idea what Lómarandil is like. And concerning your first post: I ask you to go back and read my first post, as yours contradicts a good bit of what went on in mine. I like the orc dialogue, but...well, you'll see what I mean. Also, we would not be taking word to Thranduil.

Here, for the reference of those constructing on reviewing bios:

Outline of game:
  • Army prepares to march from Dol Guldur (day 1)
  • Mirkwood scouts discover army (day 1), and, as it begins to march toward Lorien, they decide to follow (day 2 – 3)
  • Lorien envoy is on their way to the Woodmen (days 1 – 3), a good ways outside Lorien on day 1
  • Envoy crosses path of army (the two are heading in opposite directions, and it is hard to avoid a large army), and are captured (day 3)
  • Small force breaks off to take the captives back to Dol Guldur (day 3)
  • Mirkwood scouts, following, are able to ambush (night day 3) this force and rescue the captives
  • The scouts learn of the plans: a special force will attack from another direction and assault Caras Galadon (day 4)
  • The elven party races back to Lorien from the north at the greatest possible speed – the trolls slow the baddies down (days 4 – 7)
  • When they arrive (night day 9), the battle is about to begin:
    When the army reaches the Anduin around mid-day on the 9th day, they stop to put up the floating bridges. They plan to begin the attack soon after dawn the next day. The Mirkwood scouts + Lorien envoy reach the borders of Lorien a little before dusk, and reach Caras Galadon soon after dusk. A council of war then follows during the night.
  • The plan of the special force is foiled, and the entire army retreats (day 11)

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

Timeframes:

Time Periods (for a basic idea of the order of things):

Mikwood scout party scouts out and follows army (days 1 – 3)
Envoy captured – a party splits off to take captives back to Dol Guldur (day 3)
Envoy rescued – Plans of evil forces made clear (night of day 3 – day 4)
Race back to Lorien (days 4 – 7)
Defenders warned/inner defenders rescued from surprise attack (night of day 7 – day 8)
Lorien front lines hold off main force (day 9)
Enemy held – Retreat (day 11)

Kransha - All that you said sounds good, but I will read your edited bio over. Thanks for the changes!

And thanks to all, especially the submitters of bios that I am so pestering!

-Durelin
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Old 06-08-2004, 09:21 PM   #171
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White Tree

Figured as much. This is a very high profile game, and didn't think I'd get away with it I'll work on it.
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Old 06-09-2004, 12:02 AM   #172
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Submitted for the Orc character – Dol Guldur Main Forces

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

No; this is my first here.
----------------------------------

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

None
----------------------------------

3.) Have you posted in The Green Dragon Inn

Yes

_______________________________________

For your character please include:

NAME: Gromwakh

AGE: One year is much like the next to him . . . but he’s at least five – beyond that he’s unsure; birthdays not being celebrated among the members of the Orcish race. He only knows he and his tent-mate, Snikdul, have gone hunting in the dark forest once a year at midsummer since they came to serve at Dol Guldur. Got five black squirrel heads each they wear on filthy, twisted cords about their waist. Looking to add a few Elf fingers if they can get them.

RACE: Orc, originally from Mount Gundabad

GENDER: male

WEAPONS: A rusty, but serviceable filet knife he never cleans, other than to wipe it hastily on the thigh of his breeches – long thin blade: good for sticking, skinning, and general slice-work. Main weapon - a hefty hardwood cudgel studded with raggedy iron spikes. Brainbash, he calls it.

APPEARANCE: Squat in stature, dark skinned, with patches of greasy hair on his head. Thin, wiry-muscled arms and legs. Protuberant belly. His eyes are dark brown, and rather bulbous. His feet and hands are large with long, ragged, yellowed nails. Snaggle-toothed, pimply skinned, and stinks of the mouldy concoction of onion and rancid bird eggs he likes to spread on his bread, when he can get it. Wears a stiff leather jerkin pieced together from some small animals best unknown; a pair of cast-off breeches with more holes than material. No foot covering; no head-gear. Has a small leather pouch strung on the cord round his waist for carrying messages as needed.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Not exceedingly bright; but has the cunning of the put-upon. An excellent follower only if the leader keeps him under his watchful eye and his back within reach of his whip. He has proved himself able at running messages between one staging area and another. Runs fast and for long periods without tiring (though not without grumbling). Cowardly by some standards, though he sees it as pure self preservation. Very good at hiding during a fight. Can defend himself ably, though, if attacked.

HISTORY: Most of his life has been spent in the dark, Orc-warrens beneath the Misty Mountains. Keeping the ways open for the Dark Lord’s traffic and free of the occasional unfortunate Dwarf or man who ventured beneath the roots of the mountains. Nice there, he thought. Not much to do, and there was always some tasty rat or bat to be had for snacking when the mood struck him.

Just five years ago a large number of his fellow Orcs, himself included, had been driven south and then east to Dol Guldur, putting an end to his relatively easy life. Something about the Dark Master needing troops for a big fight he was planning. He couldn’t be sure. The big Orcs that captained them drove them day and night beneath the mountains, when they could, and out beneath old Yellow Face when needed. The pace was too fast for idle questions, and the looks on the faces of the brutes with whips discouraged any questions as it was.

**********************************

I’d like very much to carry along Gromwakh’s companion, Snikdul; if I might.

Here’s a short bio for him:

NAME: Snikdul

AGE: somewhere in the vicinity of Gromwakh’s – maybe a bit younger

RACE: Orc from Mount Gundabad

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: A short, curved blade sword with a hook at the end – he’s named it The Ripper. A medium length, thick iron bar he can wield with his left hand while his right holds the sword. ‘Slash ‘em and bash’em’ is his motto.

APPEARANCE: Short and dark like Gromwakh. Long armed, thick legged, muscular. Slant-eyed. Yellow fanged. Wears a tattered leather vest of unknown color - greasy, grimy, and sewn with a number of pockets, inside and out. Equally greasy breeches bearing numerous unnamed splotches. In battle, he sports a battered helmet whose craters and crevices match the contours of his misshapen skull. And he has a rather large nose that drips quite often and a lot.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Very talkative, likes to prattle on at the most inopportune moments. Follows along after Gromwakh as if he were a younger brother. Dangerous as a cornered badger when threatened, but prefers, as does Gromwakh, to avoid being cornered at all.

HISTORY: Much the same as Gromwakh’s

__________________________________


Arry's post:

‘I heard it was old One-eye going to lead most of us this time.’

Gromwakh muttered something unintelligible in return as his ratting companion, Snikdul, nattered on about the rumored plans for the upcoming battle. They were down in the depths of the cellars and passageways beneath Dol Guldur. Hunting was good down there, the rats plump from the horde of foods stored for the use of the fortress’ little army. The small burlap sack the two Orcs had dragged down with them was filled with tasty morsels . . . some of them still squirming.

‘You gonna stand there and talk while I do the work,’ Gromwakh growled, casting a nasty look at his companion. ‘Think you can talk your dinner to death, do you!’ he picked up a clump of mouldering dirt and threw it at Snikdul.

Silence and the scrabbling of the two-leggeds after the four echoed in the dim, dusty recesses of the main storeroom. Unable to help himself, as he methodically wrung one of his catches’ necks, Snikdul found himself speaking again. ‘Well whatta ya think of that?’ he asked, continuing on, as if there had been no pause.

‘Think about what?’ rasped Gromwakh. ‘One filthy Uruk’s the same as any other. It’ll be “Scum do this!” and Scum do that!” and ours’ll be the backs that bleed when the whips are laid to them.’ Gromwakh looked up, glaring as Snikdul Shhh’d him. He chucked a squealing rodent against the stone wall for emphasis. ‘Stop your sniveling! Whatta ya going on about? Think the stones down hear have ears? Think again!’ He waved a stiff rat’s body over his head, pointing it up toward the top of the hill. ‘All them high-and-mighties are somewhere up there making their plans. And it’ll be our snaga-hides the nasty Elf-blades’ll be cutting on the front lines.’ Snikdul wiped the back of his arm across his dripping nose, giving a resigned shrug to his companion’s comments.

Gromwakh motioned for Snikdul to follow him down the dirt tunnel. Their shuffling steps were muffled by the loose dirt of the floor as they loped along. Dried, twisted roots from the few trees still clinging to life on the hill poked out here and there from the tunnel’s roof – snagging the hapless hunters on the head as they passed. Just before they reached the steps up to the surface, Snikdul spoke up again. Another observation had bubbled up to the surface of his thick stew of half-formed thoughts.

‘Hey . . . I heard something about that man-Captain . . . Herding they called him. Clever, he is . . . he hates them southern pushdugs much as we do. Snikdul snorted with laughter. Gromwakh grunted and slung the rat sack over his other shoulder. ‘Quiet now. We’re here at the top. Filthy walls do have ears up here . . .’

The two Orcs slunk low, half hidden in the shadows afforded by the scraggly bushes and the rough-hewn sides of the fortress. They kept their eyes on the ground before them, fervently hoping no one would notice their passage.

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

Hope this will do! Will change any of it as needed (I did mention Orofaniel's and Kransha's characters if that's alright).

Looking forward to play, if possible. Thanks for your consideration!

-- Arry
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Last edited by Arry; 06-19-2004 at 02:13 AM.
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Old 06-09-2004, 05:03 AM   #173
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Durelin,

Added to my personality and changed my first post. Hope you like
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Old 06-09-2004, 10:31 AM   #174
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Please note that all references to Easterlings in the Character's list and in players bios/post have now been changed to Southron.

You may of course throw a few Easterling troops into the mix if you wish in your posts, but the main 'baddies' will feature Southrons - Haradrim, under the able command of their Southron Captains.

Thanks!

~*~ Pio
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Old 06-09-2004, 07:13 PM   #175
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Sting

Alaksoron - Check your PM's (Private Messages), please

Please read the Discussion thread carefully. Note how the other players have done their Character Description forms, and how they have written their First Posts.

Then, you may, of course submit a character and First Post for an Elven Warrior of Lorien - but you must follow the rules to do so:

1.) Use the COMPLETE CHARACTER DESCRIPTION FORM - ON PAGE 1, POST # 12.

2.) YOU MUST SUBMIT A FIRST POST WITH YOUR CHARACTER DESCRIPTION - GIVING US AN IDEA OF WHAT YOUR CHARACTER IS DOING AT THE START OF THE GAME.

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

Will await your completed submission. You may repost it here if you wish, using the edit function.

Thanks!

~*~ Piosenniel, Game Moderator

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Old 06-10-2004, 12:38 PM   #176
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Done some editing of my first post under Durelin's guidance. The end should make a little more sense now...
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Old 06-10-2004, 02:32 PM   #177
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Silmaril Hmmm...

Durelin, check your PMs please
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Old 06-11-2004, 03:01 PM   #178
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White Tree

Durelin - Very sorry to say this, but I must leave the game. In the process of managing my time, I found I couldn't do two games at the same time at the moment. Thank you very much for considering me. I hope you can get someone better to replace me.

Once again, sorry!

The Perky Ent


PS: sorry
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Old 06-11-2004, 06:25 PM   #179
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Arry - Thank you for submitting a bio! You most certainly can have both Gromwakh and Snikdul! They are two wonderful characters. They're so very different from the rest of the baddies, and this is a very good thing - they add so much flavor! You gave such a lovely and accurate explanation about orc ages , and your first post is just fine, mentioning other characters.

Hama - Thank you for all the changes! Looks pretty good now. Lómarandil is accepted!

The Perky Ent - I am very sorry, too! But I understand completely.

Orofaniel - Herding seems like a good baddie! He is accepted! One thing, though (I am mainly just curious, but it would be nice if this was added to the bio): Herding can certainly hate his own people, but is there a reason why? I couldn't find one in the bio or the first post, though it was clear that he hated them. Was there something in his past that you had in mind, or is it caused by something in his personality?

Alaksoron - Thank you for your interest in this game! I hope you can follow Pio's guidance an make it into an RPG soon.

Pio - Please forgive my slothfulness! I saw it, but failed to say so... Oh, and, unfortunately, there are 5 characters still needed, rather than just four. Both a male and female ambassador are needed.
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Old 06-11-2004, 11:25 PM   #180
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Thumbs up

Looking forward then to playing with you all!
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Old 06-12-2004, 06:53 PM   #181
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The Eye Urkrásh - Orc Soldier – Slave of Captain (Thrákmazh)

1.) Have you ever played in an RPG at the Barrow Downs? - Yes, The Hills of Evendim

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 Inn

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

NAME: Urkrásh

AGE: A few years or so

RACE: Orc

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: Urkrásh carries an orc bow that has seen too few battles. He uses his own arrows, and often takes others as he finds them. Also, he carries a short lengthed metal bar, a short dagger, and a short curved sword for close combat.

APPEARANCE: Urkrásh looks like a common orc. His skin is dark of colour. His left cheek is puffier than the rest of his face. His eyes are red with black slits. His right hand is limp from him tripping over a tree root. He is short, like any other orc. His legs aren’t as strong, but his stronger arms make up for it. Urkrásh wears brown rags, along with a belt to hold his weapons. He has good aim with his bow, and can fight with a sword just as equally. He wears little armour, and what of it is worn down and nearly falling apart, for he got the scraps of what there was.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Urkrásh is not very smart and would not make the best leader, for he was born that way; thus, his moves in battle might cause severe damage to any numbers he would lead. He follows the orders of his captain and master, Thrákmazh, and will do whatever he says when he says to do it. He doesn’t talk very much, in fear of someone getting mad and hurting because before he was under the command of an orc that got mad at him even if he did a little thing wrong. He follows Thrákmazh around like a dog, and often has angered him for asking him if there is anything he could do, but lately has shut up altogether, unless spoken to. He finds ways to suck up to Thrákmazh by complimenting him on every decision he makes, or doing anything to help, though he makes compliments small, short, and to the point in fear of being punished for annoying him. Urkrásh has hated trees ever since he tripped over a tree root which appeared in front of him and fell on his right hand, causing it to go limp, weakening him in battle.

HISTORY: Urkrásh is still a fairly young orc, and started out basically as Thrákmazh’s slave, not counting the little time before that where he dwelled in Mordor. His limp hand could have been the cause of his low ranking, or just because he is not very smart. But ever since he tripped over the tree root traveling through a forest one day, he has hated trees more than ever. Now he wishes to see all the forests of Middle-earth chopped up and burned. He was quite often punished by his former orc captain for noting out obvious things (him not being too bright), complimenting too much, and doing just about anything he can to suck up, including asking if there was anything he could do several times a day. A few days before he joined with Thrákmazh, he angered his captain by complimenting him, despite his captain failing, and the captain went so far as to try to take a knife to him, but Urkrásh threw him off and ran away.

He has seen little of battle, besides what he had gone through with Thrákmazh. Urkrásh had joined with his orcs after they had returned from Dol Guldur to Mordor, where he had lived for most of his young life. When he met Thráshmazh, he started to cling to him, doing whatever Thráshmazh asked of him. Slowly, Thráshmazh accepted him. There he remained, under Thráshmazh protection; in return he became his slave, welcoming the position.

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

Alatariel Telemnar’s Post

Urkrásh stood, looking upon the Dol Guldur, waiting for his next orders. Staring at what was left of the trees, he pictured them in the back of his mind burning, despite they were barely living. Orcs chopping at their roots, hacking them down, and setting torch to them all. All that he wished to do was of such, burn the trees and kill those who don’t. A glint entered his red eye at the thought. He looked down upon his own limp right hand, and growled to himself in hatred of them. Urkrásh wished to hack and burn them all down, every last one, from the root to every green leaf. Imagining them burning, Urkrásh stared.

He turned his attention back upon his master, who smelled the dirt, ‘This earth lacks something,’ Thrákmazh growled, as he rose slowly, causing the other uruks to look upon him: his voice was very recognizable among them, ‘…It lacks the seasoning of blood…This soil has gone too long without tasting death upon it.’

The uruks nodded, as did Urkrásh, others grinned. He had gone through too few battles, but still enjoyed the smell of blood, and awaited to smell it again. Urkrásh smiled to himself, showing teeth rotted and mostly black.

Urkrásh watched him as he paced through the lines of orcs, pondering to himself. Always alert, always waiting for orders, Urkrásh was. He nearly followed him, but didn’t, and stayed put firmly in his spot, shifting from one leg to another every so often. Life seemed to be going his way, Thrákmazh treated him well, keeping him under his protection, and in return Urkrásh has become his slave. Now he would get to see more of battle, and hopefully please his master.

Looking back upon what was left of the trees again, he pictured not only burning them, but what their task really was. At that Urkrásh smiled again. For as much as he hated trees, he still loved to kill. Urkrásh paced his eyes over the hills. While he waited, his mind wandered off once more, cutting down, hacking into pieces, burning. Every so often looking back at Thrákmazh to see if there was anything he could do to help.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
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-More trees.

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Last edited by Alatariel Telemnar; 06-15-2004 at 10:14 AM.
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Old 06-12-2004, 07:53 PM   #182
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Alatariel - Thanks for submitting a bio! But I'm afraid you are right: it did come up a bit short. I know it is hard, considering that your character is a lowly servant of the Captain, but he is also a main character, so a more lengthy bio is needed, I think. If you can find a way to add to both the bio and the post, I would be very grateful. I like what you have so far - a toady is always great fun to have around!

Kransha - I'm sorry it took me so long, but here's an official: You're bio and first post are now pretty perfect! Thanks again for the changes.

And once again...

*Note to all those who have submitted bios, particularly those already accepted(and already dedicated characters might want to, as well!) - Please go over your bios and first posts again to check for errors.

-Durelin
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Old 06-12-2004, 08:34 PM   #183
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I added more as well as changed a few things. I hope that's better! If not, I s'pose I shall just have to keep thinking up more to add. I reread it as best I could with others reading over my should (*glares at them*) and have to go soon.

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Old 06-14-2004, 10:54 AM   #184
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Pipe

Alatariel - Thank you for all the changes you made. I look forward to possible changes to your first post, but will go ahead and welcome you aboard. Urkrásh is accepted.

There are some character openings that do not seem like they will be filled. I will, of course, give it more time, but I have dedicated players ready to fill in these roles the best they can. I will let everyone know when I feel that it has come to that point, which just might be fairly soon. I want to get this going, as I'm sure all of you do.

Also, can we get a quick head count here? Out of our dedicated players...which is only five, including myself, I have heard from all but Arvedui. I would much appreciate it if you posted very quickly on the discussion thread or sent me a PM to let me know that you're around, and still able to participate. Thanks a bunch.

-Durelin
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Old 06-14-2004, 10:56 AM   #185
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Silmaril

Still here, still able to participate, and still ready to put plan B into action come....oh, tomorrow, actually
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Old 06-14-2004, 11:02 AM   #186
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1420!

Request from Mod:

I have beat the bushes, as it were, with notices in the game forums and a great # of PM's - to no avail, it seems, in recruiting for the Lorien Envoy section.

I'd like to see this game in play by the end of this week or early next - so:

Bring on the additional Dedicated players, please.

Thanks!

~*~ Pio
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Old 06-14-2004, 11:10 AM   #187
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Thumbs up I, of course, comply

Tomorrow sounds great, Aman.

Aman will be taking on the role of the servant for the Ambassador

*calls in the reinforcements*

You've got the green light, Fordim!

Fordim and I spoke, and his original character, Ambarturion, will be switching roles. Rather than being the escort of the Ambassador, he will be the Ambassador himself. We will stick with just one Ambassador (two really was wishful thinking), and his two carry along characters will be enough to make an escort.

And I, will be taking the cameo role, since that seems to be necessary, as well, if not as direly so.
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Old 06-14-2004, 11:18 AM   #188
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Here's what the game looks like now:

Full complement of players/characters for the game:

Characters submitted so far:


I - Dol Guldur special forces

Southron Captain of special forces - Amanaduial the archer

Southron grunt soldier of special forces - Aylwen Dreamsong

1 Orc captain – Kransha – accepted

1 Orc soldier of the Special Forces (slave of the captain?) Alatariel Telemnar - accepted

~*~

II - Mirkwood Scouts

Elf scout Captain – Durelin

Elf scout – Arvedui II

1 Mirkwood Elf scout – Firefoot – accepted

1 Mirkwood Elf scout – Hama of the Riddermark - accepted

~*~

III - Lorien Envoy to Woodelves

Carry along guards – Fordim Hedgethistle

1 Ambassador – male - Fordim Hedgethistle

1 female Amabassador and/or Servant for the Ambassadors - Amanaduial the archer

~*~

IV - Dol Guldur main forces

1 Southron Captain of the Main forces – Orofaniel - accepted

1 Orc soldier of the Main Forces + carry along Orc - Arry - accepted

~*~

V -Cameo

1 Lorien Elven warrior of the defense – male Durelin

Last edited by piosenniel; 06-14-2004 at 03:30 PM.
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Old 06-14-2004, 11:49 AM   #189
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Fordim

Have sent back your Character Bio/Post to be reworked into the Ambassador as needed.

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

Aman

Will await the placement of your Lorien servant bio/post to this thread.

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

Durelin

Once the bios and posts are all done to your satisfaction, then place a list by Player Name of the order in which you want them placed on the Game Thread.

I don't know when your cameo Lorien Elf is coming into the game - when he does, please post a brief bio for him; no first post needed.

Thanks!

~*~ Pio

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Old 06-14-2004, 02:14 PM   #190
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Silmaril

Ehm...

I had originally intended to place a profile for the female Lorien Ambassador, and have started some work on her. However, if you would prefer, I can instead create the servant. Would you very much prefer to make the servant rather than the female ambassador? I would rather write the female ambassador, but if you have Great Plans for the servant, I will of course oblige.

- Aman
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Old 06-14-2004, 03:29 PM   #191
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Aman

If it's ok with Durelin, why don't you do the female ambassador. That might be more interesting - the interplay between the 2 ambassadors.

You can always have a servant you refer to as needed, without having to work up a bio for her.

I'll put you down as a servant/ambassador for now until all is sorted out . . .

~*~ Pio
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Old 06-14-2004, 04:18 PM   #192
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Aman - I have failed you! I believe I failed to listen to what you said. And it seems that I was foolish enough to delete your PM and forgot to download it to text. I am very sorry, and it is most certainly whatever you prefer.

So, put her down as the female Lorien Ambassador, and please forgive me!

-Durelin
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Old 06-14-2004, 04:25 PM   #193
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Fordim Hedgethistle has been trapped in the Barrow!
Wazeeeeee

So, Aman and I shall be the ambassadors together?!?!?!?

Hip hip hip huzzah!!!

Any chance of a high roof for them to dangle from? (Sorry, a terribly in joke there. . .just so happy to be RPing with Aman).
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Old 06-14-2004, 09:39 PM   #194
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Pio and Durelin -- here is my reworked first post; didn't really change a lot, but I didn't think that much needed changing! Let me know.

DEDICATED CHARACTER

5.) Fordim Hedgethistle - Lorien Ambassador + 2 carry-along guards


Carry-along characters:

Megilaes and Caranbaith

Fraternal twin brothers. They are young Elves, only about three hundred years old, who are being taught the ways of Lorien warfare by Ambarturion, my main character.

They are both armed with bows and the short daggers favoured by the Silvan Elves.

They are both fair haired, but Megliaes is the taller of the two, while Caranbaith has the fairer singing voice.

*-*-*-*-*

Main Character:


NAME: Ambarturion

AGE: 7060

RACE: Elf (Silvan)

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: Ambarturion bears a bow of the Galadhrim and an ancient sword of Doriath. The sword is made of white steel and engraved in such a manner that when drawn in moonlight it appears to glow like a descended star. Its blade is long and tapered, as was the manner of weaponry for Elves in the First Age, and the pommel is wrapped in tightly bound cords of supple leather. Upon the crosspiece there is mounted a single pale gem – the last heirloom of his house.

APPEARANCE: Ambarturion is very tall and very graceful, and even among the Elves of Lorien he is known for the extremity of both his beauty and the severity of countenance which mars it. His raven-black hair is cropped just below the shoulders and his keen grey eyes shine with the memory of the fearless dark. His face is stern and proud, but possessed of great nobility and lineage. He wears the grey cloak of Lorien over a simple tunic and doublet of forest green, and his long legs are clad in supple breeches also of forest hue. He bears neither ornament nor jewel. Ambarturion rarely smiles or laughs.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Ambarturion bears himself as one of the Noldor, for he has spent almost his whole life in the company and service of the Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn. His life is defined by the love that binds him to his Lord and Lady, and this is the source both of his greatness and of the distant pride that many remark in him. But for his loyalty to them, Ambarturion would long ago have forsaken Middle-Earth and made the journey to the Grey Havens – as he is ever counselling the Lord and Lady of the Galadhrim to do. He cares little for the other folk of Middle-Earth, and is convinced that whether Sauron conquer them or not is of little purpose, for none of their works or deeds has rivalled those of the Elves in the Elder Days. Of all the Free Peoples, he values only the Ents and the Dunedain, but even they are the fallen remnants of a once mightier race.

HISTORY: Born in the First Years of the Sun, Ambarturion was raised within the protection of the Girdle of Melian where Thingol reigned as High King. When he was old enough to enter the service of a lord, he swore fealty to his kinsman Celeborn and to his Lady, beautiful and glorious beyond bearing. Since then, his fate has been bound to that of his Lord and Lady and his life has been the chronicle of his people’s long defeat. His tears at Ninaeth Arnodad were shed for his brother and father who were slain by balrogs in the first charge of the Elves. He beheld with wonder the host of the Valar and their destruction of Thangbad. He marched under the banners of Thingol and Gil-Galad in their defeats of Sauron, and was among those who Galadriel sent to welcome the Faithful back to Middle-Earth at the fall of Numenor. It was upon his return from this journey that his mother told him of her decision to leave Middle-Earth, and he had longed to follow her, for he loved her greatly and their parting was grievous. But the love he bore for Celeborn and Galadriel overcame this desire and his mother departed alone.

Through the long tale of years since then, his thoughts have turned increasingly to the Undying Lands. For the faint echo of the West that he had seen within the Girdle has grown with the years until it has become as a waking dream for him: ever present before his eyes, dulling the small world of mortal folk and leading him further and further away from their troubles. It was a sore trial for him to know that the One Ring had been within the very grasp of his Lady, but that she had let it slip away from her and into the hands of Sauron, borne thence by a race of witless folk unsung and unheralded in any song or tale. His weariness with Middle-Earth has been made more unbearable through the Ages by the constant loss of those companions of his youth who had, like him, sworn fealty to Celeborn in Melian. Many of his friends fell in the endless battles against the servants of Thangbad and then Mordor. The rest have taken their place in the ships that sailed away from these shores. Of all those who had once gathered about Celeborn as his Companions, Ambarturion alone remains.

On the day when he first came to Lothlorien with his Lord, he made the ways of the forest his study, and spent all his energies in preparing for the land’s defence. None among the Elves bore a steadier hand with the bow, and his sword, already tempered by two Ages of service in the war against Melkor and his servants, had been sharpened and renewed through countless years of careful practice. For centuries he has been entrusted with the instruction of younger Elves in the art of war, but he wearied of teaching only, and has taken to wandering the fringes of the Golden Wood for weeks on end, relentlessly prowling and hunting for their enemies. His journeys have taken him further and further afield, as far as the fringes of Mirkwood to the East, and to the Gladden Fields and the Brown Lands to the North and South. And always in these journeys is his purpose the same: to slay the servants of Sauron in order to forestall their inevitable victory for as long as he might, in the hopes that Celeborn and Galadriel will cease their fruitless quest to save Middle-Earth and follow his counsel to take the straight road into the West.

~*~

Fordim Hedgethistle's Post

The light of midday cast Ambartrion’s shadow before him as he strode easily through the long grass of the Vale of Anduin. The party had left the eaves of Lorien in the morning and as always happened when he walked in the outside world, the dull reality of it settled upon him like a fine ash. The trees that stood in clumps about the plain were naked sticks that clung to life in a chill and desolate landscape, little different to him than the Brown Lands to the South. There came to his keen ears from time to time the falling cry of desperate birds and the rush of troubled waters over impertinent stones. He sought the solace of memory, moving in his mind across earth that seemed more real than the solid ground beneath his feet. More and more had he done so of late, to the point where the few companions that he allowed to join him in his journeys outside the Golden Wood became concerned that he was withdrawing from the waking world of Middle-Earth to a point where he could not, perhaps, return. And, indeed, he was always reluctant to leave the lands of memory and rejoin the fallen and stale world of the present reality, and was often curt with those who called him hither.

This time it was his student Caranbaith who called him back. With a light touch on his master’s shoulder, the youth pointed to the distant horizon saying, “If I see aright, the Mirrormere lies before us, and we are heading a bit west of north. Do we not take the long way round to the Woodmen of Mirkwood by this route?” Ambarturion sighed at the youth, impatient with his question. Megilaes, Caranbaith’s brother and also student to Ambarturion, caught the manner of their master’s reaction and quickly held his tongue.

“Your eyes do not deceive you,” he replied quickly. “There is great need of haste put upon us, but these lands are dangerous and we must take what care we can. I intend to lead us somewhat west of the Anduin for a day before turning toward the River. There is a place two days’ march from where we shall stop this night where we can ford the waters and then strike north and east to the Woodmen.” Caranbaith nodded quickly and fell silent before the manner of his master. He and his brother had been in his tutelage for only a short time, barely one lifetime of mortal Men, but in that time he had found his master to be impenetrable in many ways. On some days he would answer their questions with patient forbearance of their youth, gently instructing them in the ways of war. On days such as this appeared to be, however, he resented any intrusion to his thoughts and would quickly put down any attempt to interrupt his inner life. Sensing that he would say no more that day, the brothers fell back to walk a few paces behind their master.

Ambarturion turned once more to his thoughts and was soon lost in the groves of Doriath even as his feet continued to pick out their careful way toward the mountains. He did not turn to Coromswyth where she rode. He had opposed her desire to ride on this journey, for horses were difficult to house and feed, and could be both seen and followed more easily across the wide open spaces of the vales that they must cross. But she had been insistent and he had deferred to her in this simply to avoid further discussion. He did not speak with her that day, for he saw no need of unnecessary words with her. Their route had been discussed and decided upon, so what need of conversation would there be before nightfall? And thus did the company proceed through that afternoon. Ambarturion strode along out front, his pace never slackening or changing, his eyes fixed straight ahead, alert to all possible danger, but unseeing of much that passed before the eyes of the others, lost as he was in the world of his youth. Behind him followed Coromswyth and his students, who diligently swept the horizon with their keen eyes as they had been taught, ever vigilant against the threats of this uncertain world.

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Old 06-15-2004, 07:33 AM   #195
Amanaduial the archer
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Silmaril Coromswyth

Fordim -

Ok Durelin, I know I said I wouldn't, but man, some people have a stereotypical image of me playing an elf, so heck, I'll live up to that stereotype and play an elf! *strikes heroic pose* And what are you apologising about?

To play the female ambassador from Lorien

1.) Have you ever played in an RPG at the Barrow Downs? - Yes: Lets Have The Party Here!, Rivendell RPG, The Undying Lands, The Crimson Sword, New Mirkwood RPG, An Audience With The King, Cirith Ungol, Shadows Of Umbra, Roll Out The Barrels, Wolf Run, Brotherhood: a story from the last Alliance, Kidnapped!, Search for the Lost Messenger, Escape From Nurn, The Green Dragon, Gondorian House Call, The Ambassador’s Son, The Green Dragon, A Ride To The Dark Side, Last Hope for Moria, Legacy of Traitors

2.) How many RPG’s on the Barrow Downs are you currently involved in? – None! But I have one coming up in starting in July.

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

NAME: Coromswyth (koh-ROm-swith)

AGE: 1057

RACE: Silvan elf

GENDER: Female

WEAPONS: Coromswyth is not a warrior, although she has often given advice concerning battle technique to the elf captains before they went into battle. However, she is able to handle weapons more than aptly. Her weapon of choice is a bow and arrows. Her bow is elegantly carved with a pattern of simbelmyne leaves and flowers, and made of yew, making it supple and less stiff to draw back and shoot with than some made of heavier woods, allowing the archer to focus more on accuracy whilst still maintaining a force only a little lower than that possible with heavier bows. She is used to shooting from a standing or riding position. She also carries a slim, lightweight dagger strapped on the inside of her left wrist, and a sword in the sheath on the saddle of her horse.

APPEARANCE: Coromswyth is not at all vain, but all who see her are immediately aware of her beauty. Her hair, like Ambarturion’s, is dead straight and jet black and most usually worn in a plaited half-ponytail or loose, and reached about halfway down her back. Her hair frames a face whose almost alabaster skin refuses to darken or burn even in the brightest sun, and her bone structure is defined but fine. Her sharp eyes are grey-blue. She is of about average height among her kind, standing at about 5ft 8, and her build is willowy but strong. Being not a warrior, and being on an ambassadorial mission, Coromswyth of course wears ladylike garb, her dresses beautifully made but quite simple, being only for travel for the time being, but the colours are strong. Her travelling garb is of green and light grey, with a wide skirt to allow her to ride easily. They are not particularly heavy, as the extra weight would be impractical, and all have long sleeves – they cover the hidden dagger at her wrist.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Coromswyth's self-conciousness can sometimes make her seem younger than she is, although she has little to be self-concious of really. She is of high birth and rank among the elves, and is admired by many for her knowledge on one level, and her beauty on the other, although she does not yet intend to marry, wishing to travel first, knowing that her time on Middle Earth grows ever shorter with each passing minute, sand running rapidly through her fingers though she tries to grasp it. The futility irritates her and sometimes she seems despairing, knowing she will never be able to see all that she has studied and take one of the ships to the Havens. For Coromswyth is a scholar, thought of as wise because of all she has studied and the way she holds herself, although this is of course different from the wisdom of the Noldor and the other ancients of the elves who remain in Lorien, and she would never profess herself to her so. She has studied especially the histories and manners of the people of Middle Earth, not only the elves, battle technique being an area that caused her to be picked as one of the ambassadors, although she prefers those topics less warlike. Another prime reason would be the approachability of the elf and the fact that she will always listen to what another has to say, even if she disagrees. In a debate or arguement, all self-conciousness vanishes from the elf and she becomes alive, vigorous and sharp, her persuasive and oratory skills strong and powerful. However, she has travelled widely in her years, and has not solely confined herself to studies, for she takes the opinion that there are also more important things, however much she devours all information, and has also devoted herself at times to more ‘practical’ studies: she has a love of singing, and of beautiful things. Mostly she is quite quiet, fair of voice and often light hearted, quietly curious to everything and, for this reason and others, always astute, watchful to everything.

HISTORY: Coromswyth, and her twin brother Merydhan, were the only children of a scout and a warrior, both high ranking and respected. Merydhan followed their mother and father, becoming a warrior, and his agility and strength, inherited from their parents, were quickly embellished by the skill he quickly developed with weapons, and he rose quickly, being sent out on missions unusually soon. However, Merydhan had inherited something else from their father: pride. In 2509, when an ambush in the Redhorn pass attacked Celebrian when journeying to Lorien, Merydhan took on more than he should have done one day, refusing to retreat and fighting until the very end, standing beside their father, although there was no need. Pride killed both of them, her brother not five hundred years old at the time.

It was a terrible blow to both Coromswyth and her mother, who withdrew from her position as a scout. Her mother and father’s love had been so passionate and strong always, both feeling all emotion so strongly, and they had passed it on to their children. But despite the grief that gripped her so strongly that she would barely eat or sleep, Coromswyth’s mother refused to let her daughter succumb to the same, and so she immersed Coromswyth in her studies of...anything, really. In her desperate attempt to escape the pain of losing the brother so close to her that they had communicated even without speaking often, Coromswyth devoured everything presented to her, and began to dwell on battle techniques and on Men, starting with the Easterlings who within a year had taken over the Redhorn pass, and the battle which had killed her brother. She studied every angle of it, but rather than become twisted and bitter about the poor organisation, the foolish politics and cowardly ambush the Easterlings had planned against the elves, Coromswyth’s fascination began to grow and, sensibly, she promised herself that if she could possibly help it, nothing of the sort would ever happen again.

Celebrian departed over the sea that same year, but not before she granted Coromswyth and her mother a chance to come with her, in gratitude for their family’s attempted protection with their lives. Ever fading in the constant reminder of her life with her passionate husband, Coromswyth’s mother took this opportunity, and in 2510 sailed to the Grey Havens with Celebrian. Although it was like losing another family member, Coromswyth decided to stay, to continue her studies, and she threw herself into them with ever more vigour. Her knowledge grew rapidly, as she had always been clever and was able to advance quickly, and she became a useful asset for the elves in various matters. Now, as Lorien was once more under threat, she presented herself to Galadriel and Celeborn as an Ambassador, for her knowledge would keep them steady and her persuasive prowess hopefully strengthen their cause.


~*~*~*~

Whew! Ok, I will add my first post probably later on today - apologies for the slight delay, she has taken me a fair while to write. I hope you approve, Durelin

- Aman

EDIT: I will have to post my first post seperately, as there are too many HTML markers in both together.
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Old 06-15-2004, 09:14 AM   #196
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Silmaril Coromswyth - first post

Amanaduial’s First Post

In the dismal setting of the Vale of Anduin, the sun beat down wearily upon the company of elves as they made their way through the long grass, the three at the front on foot and one, a woman, at the back, riding a grey stallion. A dry, lazy wind blew across the plain, ruffling the long grasses through which they strode and ruffling the stallion’s coat so a thousand different colours showed, sunlight playing across the crest of a wave. The stallion’s rider smiled slightly at the beauty of such a simple thing, then glanced backwards again at the path they had taken, her sharp grey eyes taking in everything. Like the pair of brothers who walked behind their master, Coronswyth was slightly uneasy at taking this route. It was some way longer than the more direct route possible. She waited intently, her eyed on her hands as they smoothed down the horse’s coat around it’s shoulders, as she listened to Ambarturion’s answer to his pupils.

“There is great need of haste put upon us, but these lands are dangerous and we must take what care we can…”

Coromswyth nodded slightly, satisfied, as she listened to the master’s reasoning. It had been the answer she had expected, of course, as it was what they had discussed, but she was curious as to Ambarturion, and to his pupils. The older elf was mysterious, so stern and proud, and Coromswyth had barely exchanged a few word with him since they set out from Lorien that morning. In fact, come to think of it, she mused with a slight bemused smile, she hadn’t actually exchanged a single word with him since they set out. But his dark grey eyes said all that they needed to: every time he looked at her, they fairly seemed to radiate disapproval. The elf smiled to herself: she wasn’t as yet sure of why exactly Ambartution disapproved, but was fairly ready to bet it would be because of her openness to other races – she had heard of Ambarturion, although she was not yet personally acquainted with him. He shared the view of many of the elder elves among the Galadrim: he wished to leave Middle Earth to whatever fate awaited it and it’s people. After all, Coromswyth added dryly, The Age of Elves is passing. Why should the elves defend the coming of the Age of Men?

There was both bitterness and gladness in the fact that the elves would soon need to leave Middle Earth, and Coromswyth was not sure which she felt more definitely. She had travelled far, and had seen some things that made her almost think that Men deserved the doom Sauron had in store for them: but then, what of the rest? Not all men were evil: they were weak, like children in their headstrong ways and instinctive manner, and children should be looked after, not scorned for their inevitable mistakes. And she had not seen nearly enough of Middle Earth: in a thousand lifetimes of men there would not be enough time for that. Maybe if she could just keep hold of a few more of them…

“My lady, are you keeping well?”

Caranbaith’s soft, courteous question brought Coromswyth back to reality and she looked down at the elf walking beside her, nodding. A swathe of black hair fell across her cheek and she brushed it back lightly. “Aye, thank you,” she answered, smiling at the elf. He nodded, inclining his head to her formally, before returning to walk ahead with his brother. Coromswyth watched them, a wistful tinge tinting her gaze. They were more than one hundred years younger than her brother had been when he had been ambushed with Celebrian on the Redhorn pass, and Ambarturion was to them what her father had been to Merydhan – their teacher, tutor, guide. Indeed, Ambarturion struck her as being like her father: a distant, proud figure, stern, wise and strong. Why, with their grey eyes, fine bones and black hair, she and Ambarturion even shared their beauty. How ironic then, she mused, that their opinions differed so greatly with respect to this beautiful Middle Earth.

Watching Caranbaith and Megilaes, she sighed slightly, unsually melancholy. They were younger than her brother had been when he had passed to the Halls of Mandos, but in the time between their age and his, who knew what would happen? For the elves do not have so much time left any more…the sands of time are running out for us, I fear, and the hour glass is almost empty...
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Old 06-15-2004, 09:52 AM   #197
Fordim Hedgethistle
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NOTE -- I've edited my first post again (above) to bring it more in line with Aman's (brilliant) first post.

Aman -- I think that Coromswyth and Ambarturion are going to be a great pair to watch!
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Old 06-15-2004, 10:18 AM   #198
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I have added a wee bit to my first post, as well as changed a few tiny things in the character description. Although, I don't think it was as much as you wished for me to add, Durelin

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Old 06-15-2004, 10:59 AM   #199
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Silmaril

Thanks Fordim Indeed, I can see this shaping up to be a rather...interesting relationship

- Aman, she of the profficient smiley use
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Old 06-15-2004, 11:41 AM   #200
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Okey dokey, Durelin -

Now all I need is the list of posts to put on the game.

By player name, please . . .

~*~ Pio
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