Swan Wood - Discussion Thread

[Gandalf_theGrey]

Taralphiel invites you to ... Swan Wood.

Please do not post here until Taralphiel has.

Title: Swan Wood

Basic Storyline:

Taralphiel is a Mortal that after wandering for much of her young years has established a small dwelling in woods at a point in Dor-En-Ernil (if you wish to check this on the map, it is under Gondor and it has a view of the mouths of the Anduin. However, the forest isn’t a feature on the map itself.)

Recently it has been subject to raids by a mysterious force (most likely forces of wild men from the Southern regions of Gondor), but very hard to battle and defeat. In a last resort Taralphiel sends her granddaughter (for she is over 100 years old) to request the aid of what few people may be left in the regions of Mirkwood. It has been planned that she is to meet them at Calembel and take them back to Swan Wood, a few days journey.

The purpose of the story is to.... Stop the marauding foes in the woods of Taralphiel.

This means we will know the story is over when.... the raiders are defeated or leave.

Starting Location: Each of the characters' starting posts will be at Calembel, but they will describe where they came from. My posts will shorten the journey to the forest; to keep the storyline focussed.

Likely destination: Again, the Swan wood.

Timeframes:

i) This game takes place in the _4th___Age at around year _50______.

ii) The story itself or plot covers _1 year___ months (or years).

iii) This game requires a time commitment of _6 months____ from me, the game owner and from the major players. (Note: Games can run the gamut from 48 hours to two weeks, to a month, to approximately six months.)

Characters:

Main character types are .... Men and one or two elves (they must be those who stayed behind after the Leaving for Valinor) I would estimate that there should be as many as 10 mortals (Gondor Rohan, or other if case is convincing) should and only as many as four Elves.

Secondary character types likely are.... raiders, village people, elderly warriors to play the old comrades of Taralphiel, former heads of guards of Gondor etc.

Character types which would not belong… hobbits and dwarves. It would be too far a stretch to place them in the story.

The game owner will play _2___ character(s). Please describe each character in a way that brings the character to life, so that the Reviewer can really get to know the character.

Taralphiel:

Age: around 108 (she was born around 50 years before the War of the ring)

Place of Birth (house): Calembel, a town of Gondor, now deserted.

Physical features: about 5’7", waist length grey hair, deep green eyes. Always in a gown of grey, silver of white. Often wears a breastplate of silver and carries a sword with a moonstone hilt with her. Her name means swan-queen (Tar-queen, alph-swan)

Other: Taralphiel often has premonitions, but this was more prevalent in her younger years. This is what gained her friendship with the elves of Mirkwood. She married a Rohirrim named Eriador, and after searching for him in Mirkwood, finds him and aids the Free Peoples in the War of the Ring, she was in Minas Tirith when it was assailed. Now she lives in Alphirion (her name for Swan Wood).

Taralphiel is convinced that her forest has some magical power within it. Indeed to some viewers, she seems to be able to bend small feats of the forests weather and such to her will.

On her adventures Taralphiel gained much knowledge, of both languages and histories. This she was eager to bestow to her children. It is because of this that at times she is arrogant when deciding what is best for the forest and the people who have inhabited it. She will not abandon her home. She also tends to overestimate her own strength, and believes she can still fight with the skill of her youth (thus her wearing armour). This causes great distress to her granddaughter, who seeks to protect her. Taralphiel at times pushes this concern away. Of late, she has been brooding over the death of her loved ones and her own fate.

Laurel:

Age: 21

Place of Birth: The haven of Alphirion

Physical features: around 5’8", long brown hair, and similar green eyes as her grandmothers, with flecks of gold and silver. Clad in green riding pants and vest with a cloak, Carries a small long handled dagger and a sword. It is a custom all of Taralphiel’s house has a sword fashioned in the likeness of hers. This is a black handled sword, with a silver blade. Its grip curves at the top and a moonstone is set there. Runes of the name of the bearer are carved on the blade.

Other: Laurel is the granddaughter of Taralphiel. Laurels mothers name was Estelien, Maiden of Hope. The forces attacking the forest killed her and her father, Havor, son of Havlor. They also killed her uncle, Ithilien, and her grandfather Eriador. He was the first to die by these attacks. They began as the forest was being inhabited by remnants of Calembel. At that time the skirmishes were few and by one warrior instead of a group. Now the numbers of attackers has grown, and there is no-one save Laurel who know how to fight them.

Laurel is devoted to her grandmother, one of the few members of family she has left. When Havlor, her only remaining grandfather, is mortally wounded, a change comes over her. She falls to despair. This seems to be a great force to Laurel, one that has clouded her life. Laurel is haunted by the spirits of the past, and will not let them go. This makes her introverted and hard to earn her friendship. But, like her grandmother, her resolve is hard set, and when she agrees to go to Calembel, she honours her promise.

The first post for the game:

The sea was dark, and looked like a thin sheet of glass reflecting the sickle moon. Only a gentle breeze stirred the curtains. The trees still gave the sweet smell of summer through the open house, but it also brought the smell of evil.

In her chair the old woman sat. Her eyes stared from sea to plain, watching the rivers flow. The winds moved through her silver hair. She stood, and the trees seemed to groan and strain as she came towards them. Her eyes were a deep green, and they searched the forests. At her side was a long sword that glittered in the darkness, banished only by a few lanterns.

Slowly a figure approached the old woman and bent low. The old woman smiled

'Laurel, I have missed you so!'

The figure removed her hood to show the same startling green eyes. Her long brown hair flew softly as she ran forward and embraced her grandmother. Stepping back her smile faded

'We could not outwit them grandmother. Havlor tried to ambush them in the Southern confines of the forest but was wounded in the shoulder. The townspeople are tending to him but...' she lowered her head.

Taralphiel looked with sympathy on Laurel, and tears came to her eyes. A chill wind blew through the trees and disturbed the still ocean far below. Taralphiel walked out of the house to the edge of a cliff, with the ocean at the bottom now awoken and beating against the rock.

'Havlor is my age, and he is one of the only warriors we have left, aside from you, my granddaughter. I do not know what they are, but they take this forest. It will mean great death and pain if they do my child I do not know where they came from, or what they are. I have studied all the works of men, but I must be able to see them myself!.'

At this Laurel spoke ‘I will not let you out there grandmother. You cannot fight! You have not the strength. I know here you are safe! Do not attempt it!’

Taralphiel strained ‘You do not know my full strength! So long you protect me! I can still wield a sword!!’ at that she lifted her blade and it shone. Laurel cried out in protest ‘Do not carry that blade around grandmother! It is not safe!’

‘Little is safe here’

She turned back to her granddaughter, who was leaning on a chair. She walked forward and put her hand on her shoulder 'I must ask you to do a great deed for me child. I have avoided this for many years, and it has turned against me. I did not wish that to happen, and it has brought so much death. I fear our craft cannot prevail against this force. From what you tell me they now attack in great number, covering more ground. They have studied our ways and can predict us. They are gaining more of the forest. This cannot happen! You know this, as do the villagers. They will slaughter them all if we fail, and then they will fell this forest and the grace in it will leave this world, which is a great tragedy.'

Taralphiel straightened 'I will do it grandmother, name the task, and I will complete it!'

‘You are brave, Laurel, very brave. And I thank thee for it. Your father and mother are to be thanked for that too… But this is not the time for that. This is your task. You must go out of this forest and town, out of this land. We must find help. I would much rather do it on my own, but my old bones do not will it' Taralphiel sighed. Her gaze became grave and set

'You must travel to Calembel. I have sent word to each of the free peoples I have had associations with. Rohan, Gondor, and the remaining in Mirkwood. You must bring them back here. I will not surrender this forest! Not while I live!'

'Nor will I!' said Laurel 'I will go'

Then Laurel paused

‘Grandmother, I see that the Free Peoples can help us, but few know of Alphirion. We are a place unknown. Who will help?’

‘The Rohirrim swore an oath to Eriador to help me and my children. They also swore to tell none of the forest of the Swans. Some of the town of Calembel now are nobility in Gondor. They too, remember my deeds. They will not cower form evil Laurel. And as for the Elves, they remember me in my youth as it were but a season ago. They will know the truth. They know what is in my forest and will aid us. If there are any of their fair folk left. For I fear that the boats from the Grey Havens are all but set out to the Undying Lands, the Blessed Realms of lore to our people. That was their fate. I can only imagine ours’ Taralphiel trailed off, and then looked back up

‘Do you understand my child? You must ride to Calembel at dawn tomorrow. The journey will be a few days, but when you arrive they will be there. Hold council if you will and come back as fast as you can. For then our forest will be unguarded. Then there will be forces to drive this evil out.’

That night Laurel rested in the open house of the Swan Lady Taralphiel. The next day she would set out on a journey that would be as great as her grandmothers and was of greater need than any in her mind. She was still reluctant. She did not want to leave the forest unattended, for the danger that would come. But no-one else knew where Calembel was, nor had the skill to get there. But if she did succeed, these people would help her, and that gave her strength. She would succeed; she would bring back her Allies to drive the last Dark Forces out of her grandmothers’ realm. With that resolve set, Laurel closed her eyes, falling asleep to the sounds of the Sea and distant song of the Trees.

Laurel rode over the Plains, the wind beating at her face, stinging her eyes. Ahead was her goal, Calembel. She had ridden for three days, seldom stopping to allow and to approach her. A strange sight she must have seemed, a loan armed shieldmaiden in this time of peace. But not in all places was there peace. Calembel soon appeared. The small town of quaint builings was long left. Its walls were crumbling and grass and moss clung to fixtures once proud. Entering the town centre, she saw a group awaiting. She dismounted her horse and spoke

‘I am Laurel of Alphirion. Who art thou?’

Proposer/Owner: Taralphiel

[ April 07, 2003: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[Taralphiel]

Welcome all those interested in Swan Wood! [img]smilies/smile.gif[/img]

What I am asking for in characters are 10 men (Gondor, Rohan or other that has to be explained) and four Elves (Rivendell, Lorien or other ditto with Men).

the character outline should be:

Name:
Race:
Age:
Physical description (height, eye colour, hair colour, clothing etc):
Background (childhood, motivation for coming on quest):
Any special features:
First post:
Make your first post arriving in Calembel and/or meeting Laurel and attending the council that follows. Try to make a vivid description as is possible, to help really get a mental picture of the character.

Good Luck!

[The Ruling Ring]

I'd like a man of Rohan, if I may?
I'll be back with the profile (have to go to school now) I just want to participate. [img]smilies/smile.gif[/img]

[Manardariel]

Hi!
I´m new in Rohan, so I´d be happy with a secondary Character... a villager. A village child that is.
Here´s the profile, and first post. Hope you like it!

Name: Fiona
Age: 8- 10, she doesn´t really know herself
From: A rather large village in the Swan Wood, near the river Ringolo, that has once already been attacked by the raiders.
Race: Human
Gender: female
Looks: flaming red hair (always messy), fierce blue eyes, lots of freckels, rather tall for her age, her clothes (prefarbly pants, but she´s forced to at least sometimes wear dresses) are always ripped or wrecked in some way, because she is so wild

Character: a fierce tomboy. The youngest of 4 Children (1 sister, rest brothers), she quickly realized that fists sometimes are the best way to settle an argument. She only does things she really sees a nescessarity to- or might catch a beating if she won´t. Loves nature, the woods and fields and has a strong dislike for her older sister Rian, who wants to turn her into a "little lady", which she never wants to be. Will rather eat herself that cry in front of others. You could chop her hand off and she´s say "Man, that was fun". With her friends she also frequently plays jokes on other people, and her courage is a legend among the other kids. Even the boys are scared of her. Still, Fiona is a caring *girl* who loves all animals and has an enourmous heart.

So, was that ok? I´ll make a first post ASAP, ok?

[Annunfuiniel]

Hello Taralphiel!
Here is the character I would like to play in your game.
Name: Annunfuin
Race: human
Age: about 50
Background: Son of Ergond and Hilfyn of Calembel. His parents had moved to Gondor when they married but were familiar with the deeds of Taralphiel. Annunfuin was born the day his father died in the final battle of the War of the Rings in front of the Black Gate. So he got his name ('Dark Gate') which reminds of his father's heroic death. He was born in Gondor and there he grew up listening to stories of the great deeds of men (and hobbits!) during the Great Years. He was always told how his father had been one of the soldiers of the Guard and as long as he could remember he had wanted to be just like his father.

So years passed and instead of playing with other children Annunfuin spent his days practicing his skills in arms. He became familiar with all the weapons imaginable but sword was his weapon of choise. This sword of his had belonged to his father and was given to him when he reached the age of 20. And then there came the day when he was ready to step into his father's job and was granted the black uniform of the Guard of Minas Tirith.

Now he had served the Tower and it's ruler for over 25 years. The time had flown and things seemed to be in order. But for a while Annunfuin had felt a strange feeling in the evenings while watching the flow of Anduin making its way towards the sea. The breeze from the shore seemed to bear cries of torment and pain. And when Gondor received the request for help from Taralphiel of the Swan Wood he knew that those voices in the wind were calling for him. He bowed the kneel to King Elessar and said: "Although my greatest desire is to serv you, my King, I shall ask to be sent on this mission for I hear that land calling for my aid." And King Elessar could understand his anguish and let him go.

Appearance: His name fit well with his looks for most of the time the expression on his face was withdrawn and his thoughts were concealed behind the dark grey eyes which rarely showed any emotion. His dark brown hair swept his shoulders and his raiment was usually dark coloured - grey or blue when off duty - some might describe him as a friend of the shadows. He was tall but among the tall gondorians of avarage height with his 6ft and 4inches.

The darkness was only one side of his character for people who knew him better could tell that it was hard to find a person with purer heart. And when he smiled all the gloominess dissappeared from his figure and his eyes blazed and took on a lighter shade of grey.

-Ok, that's it for tonight I haven't got the time to write the first post. Hope you liked my character and let me play a part in your game. Looking forward a lot of fun! [img]smilies/smile.gif[/img]

[ February 27, 2003: Message edited by: Annunfuiniel ]

[ February 28, 2003: Message edited by: Annunfuiniel ]

[ February 28, 2003: Message edited by: Annunfuiniel ]

[Burzdol]

Hi!

Name:Ilisit Scron

Race:Man [Rohan]

Gender:Male

Age:circa 29

Description: Ilist is normal height for a Rohanian, about 6'. He has blazing blue eyes and shoulder length black hair. This man dress in all black pants, shirt, and cloak. He carries a long elven sword [given to him by an elf] and Rivendell long bow and arrows. Thrust in his belt is a self-made dirk.

Background:Being born in a royal Rohan family, this man was part of the Rohan King's Guard. When both parents died he went off to become a ranger. From then he has been raveling for about 11 years. Hehas a very large sense of adventure and came for just that.

First Post:

King Eomer had sent on this journey. Ever since he went back to Gondor from the wild of Middle Earth he was expected to be for the Guard. Since he had been in the Rohanian Guard he was expected to do the same for Gondor. The man was a wanderer before this, but now had to do this. Should have just stayed in the wild. And I probably shouldn't have left my group. Heck, I shouldn't have left Rohan, I could have been a Rider.

Laurel was waiting for him and the others as Ilisit rode up. His black horse halted at the woman before him. The ranger dismounted his horse and greeted the kind woman. The first thing he noticed was her green eyes.

"Hello, Laurel. I thank you for inviting me to come," He said as they shook hands.

The woman led him into a small room to wait for the rest. His sword at his side clanked against the wall as he sat on the floor. He had hoped that his training in the Guard would help him on this quest he was about to embark on. The man waited for the rest of his group. He would probably get a lecture from them, but didn't care very much. His mind trailed into different things as slumber slowly overtook his blazing blue eyes.

[ March 06, 2003: Message edited by: Burzdol ]

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

Hola Taralphiel! Sounds like an interesting RPG you have here.


Name: Jesslyn Stone, or Jess

Race: Human (Female)

Age: 18

Physical description: Jess is short at about 5’2, and is slender but muscular. Jess has misty grey eyes, a straight and rather ordinary nose, and lips that are prone to smiling, set in an oval face. Her black hair, cropped to just above the shoulders, has enough of a wave to make it look rumpled and wild, which isn’t helped by her idea of a haircut being to grab a knife and hack off the ends. Her ‘fashion sense’ is limited to the realization that black goes with everything, so she typically wears trousers and tunics ranging from grey to black.

Background (childhood, motivation for coming on quest): Jesslyn grew up the youngest of a large family. She had five brothers who all turned out to be great warriors, and three sisters who at the time of the story have all been married off and are happily living their lives. Her sisters found Jess to be a strange rough-and-tumble little girl, and often avoided Jess and let her play or follow her brothers. Jess learned from them how to skillfully use a sword, and daggers are easy for her to use as well. Jess always admired bowmen (or women!) but never learned how to use one herself.

As far as any of her living relatives can remember, the Stones had always lived in Tarnost. When much of the area of the Dor-En-Ernil became subject to raids, the villagers of Tarnost all knew it was necessary to do something about it. When a message came that the Swan Lady Taralphiel requested aid to regain the forests of Dor-En-Ernil, her family immediately debated on how they could help. With her brothers serving the Guard of Gondor, and her sisters with families of their own, her parents opted to send Jess. Jess agreed for the chance to uphold family honour and go on an adventure.

Personality: Jess is an intelligent girl who dislikes ignorance. Though a (semi)trained warrior, she's a diligent student and jumps at the chance to learn something new. Jess is very brave, but has a strong sense of self-preservation. A good leader, but Jess can easily follow orders if the leader is competent. Jess' biggest weakness is her stubborness, and she's often overly blunt or sarcastic in turn.

First post:

Jesslyn Stone’s footsteps could hardly be heard on the long-left roads of Calembel. Walking through the deserted town was certainly strange, but Jess was used to strange occurrences. Arriving through the south gate, Jess had traveled from her home in Tarnost. An awkward site she must have been, clad in black in a shade matching her wild, short hair and bright green eyes searching the old town.

Tall moss-covered buildings lined the roads, and it seemed to Jess that the people of Calembel left in a hurry. Pots and tarps still filled and covered shops and doors of homes were flung open. Jess’s eyes darted to and fro examining each house and shop as her brothers had taught her. Maybe she wouldn’t be here if one of her brothers were not serving Gondor. Adventure was one thing, but upholding the family honour was another, much more important reason for being in Calembel. Of course Jess wanted to rid her home forest of raiders and rogues.

Reaching the center of the town, she saw a few other Humans and Elves, gathered around a large fountain that had long been dry of water. Jess remained silent, and showed no emotion on her face.

Riding up on a horse came a woman with long brown hair and striking green eyes. After a quick glance at the group that had gathered, the woman dismounted and spoke to the people in a grand, proud voice.

“I am Laurel of Alphirion. Who art thou?”

None of the others spoke first, so Jess took a step forward from her place and bowed gallantly. Smiling and withdrawing her sword, Jesslyn Stone’s green eyes looked over the taller, green-clad human.

“I am Jesslyn Stone. I hail from the town of Tarnost, just south of here. I offer my sword to any attempt to rid Dor-En-Ernil of raiders and such barbarians. Long has my family and village stood by, not knowing what to do, and now that we gather here to destroy the force that threatens us, we know what we must do. We must defend our land and people. Not many of us residents of the forest have gone without losing a family member to the raiders, and I am here to avenge their deaths and prevent more.” Jesslyn lifted her chin proudly, and sheathed her sword.

And

Name: Cartil Stone

Race: Human (Male)

Age: 23

Physical Description: Taller than all his other siblings (even his older ones!) Cartil is about 6 feet tall and is lanky but muscular. His skin is a swarthy color, and his eyes are hazel. Like most of his family, Cartil’s hair is jet-black, very thick, and very curly, and is scruffy and about ear-length. Cartil dresses plainly, save for the intricate sheath that holds his sword, which is studded with many gems and inlaid with gold.

Background (childhood, motivation for coming on quest): Cartil is the youngest son of the Stone family. He learned sword fighting at an early age, but when a party of Elves came to visit his mother, Cartil was taught how to use the bow and quiver. He often was the one who let his younger sister Jess tag along, much to his older brother’s dismay. When he turned sixteen he went off with his older brother Namir to join the Guard of Gondor.

Though Cartil was a skilled warrior, he found more interest (and success) in being more of a diplomat than a warrior or knight. Much of his nine years in Minas Tirith were spent drawing up some sort of decree, message, or treaty, and then sending it himself.

Upon hearing the news from the Lady Taralphiel about the raids in the south, the King Elessar decided to send a representative to ‘investigate’ and help the Swan Lady at all costs. The King chose Cartil and sent him to the deserted village of Calembel. With an official message from King Elessar, Cartil rode out and began the journey to Calembel.


First Post:

The white stallion carrying Cartil Stone trotted along the street of Calembel. After having ridden south from Minas Tirith, Cartil traveled west to reach the empty town. He even visited his hometown of Tarnost along the way. His younger sister was not there, but he promised himself that he would visit his favorite sibling when all was done with the raiders.

Going through the south entrance into the town, Cartil felt chilled to the bone as he looked about the place. A slight wind whipped at Cartil’s cloak, and his hazel eyes were filled with great anticipation as he neared the center of Calembel. When he turned a corner, Cartil came into view of a great fountain, though no water fell from the great stone statues that stood from the center of the fountain basin. There were a few others grouped about the fountain.

A woman shot through the quiet scene on her horse, and when she reached the grouping, she dismounted and began to speak.

“I am Laurel of Alphirion. Who art thou?” Her loud voice echoed and bounced about the crumbling buildings.

Then, a younger woman strode forward and began to speak. That voice sounds so familiar... Cartil thought. Turning so that he could see the girl past the others who had come to Calembel, he almost fell off his stationary horse. It was Jess! His sister spoke now the brown haired horse-woman.

“Jess!” was all Cartil managed to cry out as he leapt off his horse and led it to the company that surrounded the fountain. Jess turned to face whoever had called her name, and her clear green eyes widened as she took in the sight before her. She ran from her spot and when she was close enough the Cartil she jumped up and hugged her brother.

“What are you doing here?” Cartil asked, though his voice was muffled as Jess had her hands tightly wound about his neck. Only when she finally detangled her arms from his neck did she answer his question, -

“I’m here to help get the forest back! What are you doing here?” Jess interrogated after she answered. But Cartil noticed all the others of the group staring at the two, and he hushed his sister and continued over to the company.

“Forgive me! I have not introduced myself! I am Cartil Stone; I come here as a representative of the King Elessar and his Reunited Kingdom, especially Minas Tirith. I bring greetings and well wishes from the King,” Cartil spoke in a stately voice and withdrew a parchment from his cloak pocket. It was elegantly rolled and tied with string.

“I am Laurel of Alphirion,” The woman began again, and Cartil handed her the parchment


This sounds like a cool RPG. I hope Jesslyn's (And Cartil's) profile is okay as well as the first post. If anything needs to be changed just let me know.

Aylwen Dreamsong

[ May 30, 2003: Message edited by: Aylwen Dreamsong ]

[Manardariel]

First post for Fiona

"Fiona! Fiona!! Will you come here?!?" An shrill, loud and stern voice rang through the crisp morning air. Fiona stuck her tounge out at the shouter -her oldest sister Rian- and ran for her life. Swiftly she climed up a tree, crouching in one of his highest brances. She heard footsteps below her. Carefully she peeked down, and could just see Rian, looking around. The older girl called out one last time, then, muttering occaisionally about "that girl" returned into the house.

Fiona breethed out. She didn´t know what she had done this time, but, knowing Rian, it was something "un-ladylike". She groaned. Why couldn´t her sister just leave her alone??? A second later she was pulled out of her thoughts by a rustling next to her.

"Porridge!". A squirrel stood before her. Fiona "greeted" it friendly. Porridge was not her pet, but of all the animals that were friends, the squirrel was her favourite. As usually, he guessed she was in a bad mood. He climed up her lap and started licking her tummy. It tickeled. Fiona giggeled. Oh, Porrige was such a good friend...

"Hey, Fio!" She cought a hissing voice, and a blink of an eye later, a pebble narrowly missed her eye. she cought in mid air.

Hey, Sis
I heard you got Rian mad once more.
Good job, keep it up. Oh, and if you care for breakfast with your brothers, we´re in the treehouse.
Hurin

Fiona smiled. Her brothers were best! Grinning broadly, she climed down the tree again, Porrige following closely.

[Taralphiel]

Wow! Thanks all for posting! This is a great response. I'll go through each of you:

TheRulingRing: Get back to me, I’ll wait for you

Manardariel: Your post is great! Thankyou for offering to be a secondary character! They are not as common in the RPGs Ive seen. Fiona is a wonderful character and I am glad to accept her. I’ll stick your post in as soon as Ive gotten time to do it. In the future Id also like to work on you showing a first hand experience of the Wild Men raid, and maybe a childs view of the sanctuary of the Swan Lady [img]smilies/smile.gif[/img]

Annunfuiniel: Good stuff! I await your first post! If you could, try to add a declaration from King Elessar, I would like to show Taralphiel’s influence in recruiting Men of Gondor, not them simply showing up. Thankyou

Burzdol: Good! A man of Rohan! Just a few hints though. Illisit being a wanderer doesn’t highlight the fact that these are armies of the Free Peoples. Is it possible that he could have found out about a need and gone to King Eomer, who subsequently sent him there? This would still mean he is a wanderer, but with a greater sense of purpose. Also, Taralphiel is not at Calembel, only Laurel. I must’ve confused you. Sorry! Just fix it up and post it in discussion. Ill stick it in with the other first posts when I have all my characters.

Aylwen: Love Jess! A shieldmaiden or two will definitely not go astray. Laurel needs someone to keep her company. Welcome aboard. Again, maybe a bit clearer on the King of Gondor’s orders. If you would like, one of your brothers comes with you as a representative?

Okay, so we have so far… Two representatives from Gondor, two from Rohan. Six more at the most. And four elves. Also, the subject of love interests has been mentioned to me by others. Just let me know your preferences. However, it cannot overwhelm the stories objectives.

Also, the RPG itself is not up. Once that happens, I’ll copy your posts in myself in a god order. Hopefully by then we should have a greater number!

Thankyou all again!
[img]smilies/biggrin.gif[/img]
Taralphiel

[Ransom]

Hey-

I'm interested in adding two more characters to your RP. [img]smilies/smile.gif[/img] Just thought I'd reserve a spot in advance. I'll have my characters written up and posted in a few hours.

-Ransom

[Taralphiel]

just let me know what they are ransom, I'll reserve them for you [img]smilies/smile.gif[/img]

[Burzdol]

I edited my post. Do you like it? Or should I add something else?

~Burzdol~

[Ransom]

Background on the Order is from a Tolkein RPG I'm in in RL. I'll have the first post written up later today. [img]smilies/smile.gif[/img]

-Ransom

History of the Order of the Black Rose

“Ecthelion II, son of Turgon, was a man of wisdom. With what power was left to him he began to strengthen his realm against the assault of Mordor. He encouraged all men of worth from near or far to enter his service, and to those who provided trustworthy he gave rank and reward.”

-Appendix A, Return of the King, page 1030

Perhaps because of her national identity, Gondor always suffered from a dearth of information about her foes. While nobles, merchants, and even the Stewards had small number of personal spies, their efforts were largely devoted toward their political enemies. The only information about the movements of Gondor’s foes usually came from merchants. This information, when obtained, was often embellished to a great degree. Ecthelion viewed the chaotic state of Gondorian intelligence a severe annoyance. His solution was extremely unconventional, and the howls of outrage from the nobles echoed off the walls of Minas Tirith.

Ecthelion gathered two hundred men who had proven their loyalty to the White Tower both physically and mentally. On New Years Day of 2970, he knighted all two hundred and formed the Order of the Black Rose. Its organization was that of a religious order, with the member supposedly sequestered in a handful of chapter houses scattered throughout the land of Gondor. To further strengthen the false image of the Order, he attached half a dozen priests and priestesses of Namo and Nienna.

In reality, the order was given control of the Steward’s large but inefficient intelligence network. It took five long years of purges and training before the first pieces of reliable information began to flow in from such places as Harad, Laketown, and even Bree. The order continued to expand, adding more knights and spies with each passing year. Denathor II spent part of his youth with the knights, and its excellent performance greatly pleased him. He placed the order under his direct command, merging it with the elite Citadel Guard that held the White Tower.

Because of its activity in the intelligence area, the Order has gone to great lengths to conceal their identity. To this end, the picture of the knights of the Order as lone crusaders against evil has been firmly imbedded in Gondorian mind. Their dedication to the Summoner of the Slain and the Weeping Goddess is almost legendary, and more than one exaggerated tale of their exploits is circulating in taverns. To the best of common knowledge, the only time more than twenty knights of the Order gathered in one place was in the defense of Minas Tirith during the Ring War.

Sir Thagon Kestner
Human
Age: 25
Height-6’ 4”
Birthday: May 28, 25
Hair color: Black hair. Tied into rough pony tail.
Eye color: Grey.
Notable possessions: Worn suit of partial plate, bastard sword, main gauche, black traveling cloak, cloak with markings of the Citadel Watch, shield, assorted cloathing

History and personality:

While the dawn Fourth Age brought prosperity, peace, and rest to the land of Gondor, Gondorian Intelligence under the guise of the Order of the Black Rose scarcely had time to catch their breath after the Ring War. While some of the extralegal activities of the Order of the Black Rose offended His Majesty’s sense of justice, King Aragorn was wise enough to see that information about his enemies would ultimately save Gondorian lives. However, while the downfall of Mordor had allowed the Order to focus its attention on other areas of the world, the Order still took a healthy interest in internal affairs. The news that an unidentified group of raiders were operating in southern Gondor caught their eye, and two agents were dispatched to examine the situation.

Sadly, Thagon’s birth was marred by questions over the circumstances of his conception. His mother, a daughter of a local merchant, had caught the eye of an thirty-something bachelor with a fair amount of gold. One thing lead to another, and Thagon’s mother soon became pregnant. Thagon’s parents were married shortly afterwards, but his mother’s family never forgave her.

At the age of ten, the young boy had a encounter with a recruiter for the Order of the Black Rose. His parents took quite a bit of persuading, but the fact that their son would be known for something other than the circumstances of his birth soon convinced them. Unlike some of his fellow classmates, Thagon’s thick and swarthy body was ill suited for burglary and sneaking around in the dark. His instructors simply shrugged their collective soldiers and began to concentrate on other areas. He quickly became a master with the bastard sword, eventually developing his own unorthodox fighting style. His instruction, however, was not only in the physical arts. He learned how to hide himself in plain view, to disguise himself through the use of words and actions.

While eight years of service to the White Tower has left no physical scars on Sir Kestner, the years of intrigue and warfare has made him strangely philosophical and religious. Though no one can question his zeal, no one is quite sure of exactly who or what he is. Over the years, Thagon has developed extensive acting skills as well as a large cast of characters. His moods can swing from extremely calm to a mindless rage and back again in a span of minutes. But beneath his outward disguises, Thagon is a quite young man with an unswerving dedication to Nienna and Gondor.

While the Order usually pairs their agents off in the field, Thagon’s unusual temperament virtually eliminated the trust that was almost essential to such a partner ship. Three years before the present, the chief priestess of Nienna attached to the Order paired him with a fellow agent named Leena Midthun. She was just as skilled in acting, and the pair quickly began to clash. They fought and argued on and off for the next two months before settling into a relationship of mutual admiration.

Motivation:
The Order is concerned over the recent increase of raids in Southern Gondor, and has dispatched two of her agents to investigate. Thagon and Leena will arrive at the staging point at the appointed time and place. Their first mission is to learn the identity and motivation of the raiders. Should the party be able to eradicate them, so much the better. However, should the threat prove overwhelming, the pair will escape to inform their superiors of the threat.

Any special features:
Equipment will be described in the first post.

Leena Midthun
Human
Age: 20
Height-6’ 2”
Birthday: May 28, 30
Hair color: Black hair. Usually worn loose.
Eye color: Grey.
Notable possessions: Worn suit of chain mail. Simple brown dress with various hidden pockets. Schlaeger (Heavy fencing sword). Unknown number of small and pointy objects.

History and personality:

Leena was born in the slums of Pelargir, another member of the faceless and forgotten poor. Her father had been crushed when a beam in the house he was helping to build fell on his head, ironically on the same day that his wife learned that she was pregnant with her first child. Her mother tried various lines of work, but could not earn enough to make end’s meet for her small family. The arrival of Leena’s younger sister further complicated the situation. Her youth was spent filching and stealing from various citizens to help pay for her family’s food and housing. At the age of twelve, her mother was murdered behind a tavern, placing the burden of earning money directly on her thin shoulders. She would have undoubtedly have spent the rest of her life on the streets had she not robbed the wrong stranger one blustery winter night.

Her target was a young couple who were making the mistake of traveling through the city at night. Leena had approached them near an inn, where the noise would cover her footsteps. Her hands had just begun to lighten the woman’s purse when she felt a metal gauntlet grab the collar of her shirt. Of course she kicked and fought, but kicking a man when he was wearing armor didn’t make much of an impression. She tried crying and apologizing, but her captors seemed absolutely deaf to her pleas. They dragged her to a large black complex on the edge of the city, where she learned she had chosen the worst possible pair of people to rob.

The man who was firmly marching her toward the chapel was Lord Ecthal, chapter master of the Order of the Black Rose. The woman, simply named Elenna, was the chief priestess of Nienna in the Order of the Black Rose. After assuring the girl that she would not have her hand chopped off for stealing, Elenna painfully extracted the girl’s life story. One of the chief traits the Weeping Goddess desired in her servants was compassion, and Her priestess managed to convince Ecthal that providing a home for their little thief and her sister would ultimately benefit the order.

This is not to say that the following years of her life were easy. Indeed, her continued residence of the chapter house came with the unsaid condition that she would be trained as a member of the Order. She did not exactly prosper under the strict regime of physical exercise and philosophy, though she became quite adept in fencing and the use of various sharp objects. Not exactly intelligent enough to serve as a dedicated spy, her training was directed for a situation where stealth and trickery were not enough. Leena learned to charm and to lie, to modulate her voice and emotions to fit any type of situation.

She undertook her first mission at the age of sixteen, a small sting operation to uncover a group of bandits in Southern Gondor. Elenna quite firmly paired her with Sir Thagon Kestner the following year. The sparks had begun before the introductions were finished, and Elenna watched the subsequent storm of shouting with a girlish grin unbecoming of a woman of her position. The fighting, while not sincere, had resulted in a small moral victory for Leena when she discovered she was the better actor. They both grudgingly admitted that they would work well together after two months, though their bickering has never ended. Now, however, their fights were used as a way for the pair to keep their skills sharp.

Years living and working the street have left Leena with a peculiar, confusing, and even humorous character, an affliction that Elenna was never able to fully cure. Much to Thagon’s ire, she is brash, fiery, stubborn, impulsive, and extremely passionate. However, Leena is very much aware that her fighting skills are much more suited for deception than for open combat, and manages to keep unnecessary fights to a minimum. She and Thagon share a strange kind of professional love for each other. Leena wants to go a bit further in their relationship, though Thagon has either ignored or missed her subtle suggestions.

Motivation:
The Order is concerned over the recent increase of raids in Southern Gondor, and has dispatched two of her agents to investigate. Thagon and Leena will arrive at the staging point at the appointed time and place. Their first mission is to learn the identity and motivation of the raiders. Should the party be able to eradicate them, so much the better. However, should the threat prove overwhelming, the pair will escape to inform their superiors of the threat.

Any special features:
Equipment will be described in the first post.

[ February 28, 2003: Message edited by: Ransom ]

[ February 28, 2003: Message edited by: Ransom ]

[ February 28, 2003: Message edited by: Ransom ]

[ March 02, 2003: Message edited by: Ransom ]

[ March 12, 2003: Message edited by: Ransom ]

[ March 12, 2003: Message edited by: Ransom ]

[Ransom]

To Sir Thagon Kestner and Leena Midthun:

Greetings and may the blessings of Namo and Nienna be upon you. A matter of some importance has come up concerning an enclave in the Swan Wood in Dor-En-Ernil. A band of raiders have been slaughtering the inhabitants, and word of their plight has reached the ears of King Elessar. The matriarch of the enclave has requested aid from Gondor.

You will proceed to the assembly point in the central square of the abandoned town of Calembel. So far, we have not been able to determine the identity of these raiders. Aid the group in their quest with the normal restrictions. Only make formal contact with the Hosts in case of a dire emergency. Travel as a knight of the Order and show the King’s subjects his fist.

Valar bless,
Lord Ecthal, Chapter Master of the Order of the Red Rose
Minas Anor

***
Leena Midthun cursed long and loudly as she ran her favorite ivory comb through tangled black hair. She was a city girl, and a week of tramping around the countryside did not agree with her. If that wasn’t bad enough, the bedroll she had used in her teenage years no longer fit her six foot two inch frame. Her normally pretty face was marred by a deep scowl, and her steel gray eyes blazed as if she had received some mortal insult. Finally satisfied with her appearances, the Gondorian woman took a few deep breaths. On a whole, the priestesses of Nienna were fairly calm and soft spoken, and an ill-timed curse would not help her public image.

She idly smoothed a few wrinkles out of the simple gray dress she wore. It had an annoying tendency to get caught underfoot in a fight, but more than one man had earned a sound beating after mistaking her for easy pickings. The suit of chain mail she had hidden under her cloathing clinked softly as she attached the sheath of her Schlaeger to her belt. Leena had received the weapon from her godmother after her first mission for the Order, and she had valued it every since. She gripped the hilt, the embrace of the heavy iron basket on the pommel somewhat comforting. It made a slight rasping sound as it slid out of its sheath. Outwardly, the weapon resembled the fencing foils so popular with young nobles. In truth, the steel blade was just as deadly as the bastard sword her friend used.

After taking a few experimental swings with the weapon, Leena gracefully returned it to her sheath before glancing around the campsite. Their cooking gear and tent were safely packed on the back of their pack horse, and the fire pit had been filled in. Cheery rays of light began to peel back the last vestiges of night as the sun began to rise. In an action that seemed completely out of character, Leena turned toward the still dark western horizon and began to sing in a soft voice. The ancient hymn had no words, but the sad melody reminded those who listened about the Weeping Goddess.

Sir Thagon Kestner bowed his head and muttered a silent prayer before turning his attention back to his equipment. One of the first lessons members of the Order of the Black Rose learned was to reserve a special time during the day for devotions. While he performed devotions first thing after waking up, Leena had always been partial to the sunrise. The knight’s six foot four inch body, built somewhat like a small bear, began to cast a long shadow in the new sunlight. Turgon idly pulled his black hair into a rough ponytail before placing his helm on his head. This helm, while made of fine black steel, was crafted in the same design as the mirthil helms of the Citadel Watch, had saved his life more than once.

The knights of the Order of the Black Rose had long ago dismissed plate armor as too clumsy and too heavy for extended field use. Instead, the servants of Gondor wore a collection of chain mail and steel plates often referred to as partial plate armor. Thagon’s chain mail hauberk hung halfway down to his knees, allowing him enough freedom of movement to quickly mount a horse. A pair of black steel greaves were strapped over his boots, reaching from his ankle to his knees. His large hands were enclosed in black steel gauntlets, and a pair of black bracers extending from his wrist to his elbows protected his forearms. The breastplate, like every other piece of steel on his body, was black. While mostly unadorned, the insignia of the White Tower on a white shield that marked him as a member of the elite Citadel Watch was clearly engraved in the middle of the black steel plate.

While Thagon was a firm believer that practicality was beauty, he had allowed himself a small indulgence today. A dark red cape with a large black rose embroidered in the center fell from a pair of silver clasps on his shoulder, silently moving in the morning breeze. The back scabbard that normally housed his bastard sword was protruded from behind the cape at the hip and the right shoulder, though it was empty at the moment. The blade of the knight’s bastard sword was four feet six inches of razor sharp steel. While the hilt and crosspiece was rather simple, his proud parents had paid a local silversmith to guild their son’s sword, a gesture of kindness that their son would not soon forget. After critically examining the edges of the sword once more, he strapped a shield with the crest of the Order to his left hand. With a grace born of years of practice, he pulled himself onto Garion, his brown warhorse’s back.

Leena, having just completed her morning meditation, quickly mounted her white palfrey and cast a mocking look at her friend. “Well, my dear knight and protector, lead the way. You smell like a rusty iron kettle, so don’t look too surprised if I try to stay upwind of you.

***

Thagon gently patted the nose of white palfrey that Leena rode. Unlike its mistress, it was a gentle beast and not given to the prancing and dancing of its younger relatives. Despite her dress, the task of searching for a possible ambush had fallen on Leena, and Thagon would have to find some way to pass the time until she returned. The knight double-checked the knots securing the three hourses to a nearby tree before wandering into the ruins of a stone house on the outskirts of town. His right hand scrapped against a wall, its metal covering tearing out a good-sized piece of moss. Despite the years of ruin, some black soot (or was it soil?) remained on the stones. Frowning, Thagon pondered on how the village had been abandoned. Had the village been raided by orcs during the War of the Ring? Did a band of bandits fall on the town before being captured by the Hosts? Or had commerce simply died out?

Dropping the clump of moss with a sudden revulsion, the knight turned and briskly walked back to Garion. The warhorse barely paid any heed to his master as Thagon dug through one of the saddlebags on the campaign saddle. His fingers drew the broad-bladed spear point into the light. Eschewing the effective but clumsy lances of Dol Amroth, the Order’s combat doctrine borrowed heavily from the cavalry of Rohan. The shaft of the spear had been snapped in the last large engagement that Thagon had participated in, and the Gondorian had yet to remount the head. A unit of twenty knights of the Order, traveling from Dol Amroth to Gondor, stumbled on a group of bandits indulging the darker impulses of human nature on a village. The knights had charged through the village, reformed, and charged back, killing all thirty foes in less than five minutes. He could still remember the bodies of children lying in the streets, their small bodies illuminated by the fires that consumed many of the houses. Why does there always have to be fire?

Dismissing his moment of silent melancholy, the knight put the spear point back into the saddlebag. He would have to find a suitable shaft when they reached the Swan Woods, and that would be the end of it. Chain mail clinked against steel as Thagon spun, his hand automatically reaching for the hilt of his sword.

Leena’s face bore a look of almost girlish innocence as she stepped out from the ruins of the house Thagon had been examining. Her eyes, however, danced with a mocking mirth not unlike a wolf who had just cornered its prey. “Would you strike a priestess of your order?”

Thagon’s hands quickly untied their animals before he turned to face his friend. “Leena, you’re a priestess for the duration of this mission. Please remember that Elenna had trouble keeping a straight face during the ceremony, and all twenty knights currently in the chapter house were laughing their heads off outside the chapel.”

“Be nice of I’ll bore you to death with one of my sermons,” retorted the girl, her lips creasing into a pout.

Thagon grunted and strapped his shield to his left arm. While the protection offered by a shield was comforting, its weight was an annoyance. “Fine. I take it the ruins are clear?”

Leena nodded as she mounted her horse. “The only souls here are gathered in the town square. A whole bunch of men, a girl, and a spattering of elves.”
***

The sound of a horse galloping through the ruined streets of the dead town caused the hodgepodge of adventurers to look up from the various tasks. A few undoubtedly had dozed off, storing away sleep for days and weeks ahead. Others exchanged banter and stories as they waited for the messenger from the Swan Woods. Still others cared for their equipment, sharpening weapons and oiling armor. Thagon critically examined the blade of his main gauche before returning it and a sharpening stone to the respective compartments on his belt. With a grunt of exertion, the knight pulled himself to his feet. It was no small matter to stand when wearing metal armor.

Leena’s busy fingers pulled the needle in and out of Thagon’s black traveling cloak, deftly closing a rip caused by passing a tree at full gallop. Finally satisfied with her work, she returned her working materials to the packhorse. The revelation that his fiery partner sewed had come as a great shock to Thagon. He had spent weeks attempting to reconcile this sedate hobby with its unusual owner, finally coming to the conclusion that it was simply an act. Leena smiled to herself as she watched him draw his bastard sword for the third time in ten minutes. In truth, she did like to sew. It gave her something to do when not working. She idly tucked a few strands of stray hair behind an ear before joining the others in their vigil

The conversation and activity slowly came to a stop as man and elf waited with baited breath. They were not disappointed this time. Thagon’s eyes immediately began to observe her, probing for weaknesses or habits that could be exploited. It wasn’t that he disliked her, but he taught long ago that a little fore planning never hurt anyone. He noted that both the horse and mistress looked exhausted from their journey. Either she was seriously overestimating the danger, or the threat had increased since the Order had heard of their plight. Her choice of vocabulary was unexpected, but not unusual. He made a mental note to inquire about that later.

Leena watched as Jesslyn and Cartil greeted each other, her gray eyes brimming with some interest. In her option, the girls and ladies of Minas Anor had grown a trifle soft. Jess was brimming with zeal and not afraid of adventure, two traits Leena appreciated. Cartil, on the other hand, might prove an interesting challenge. The Order hadn’t been informed that the king would be sending a representative. But such thoughts could wait. Leena breathed deeply waited for Laurel to inquire about their identities again.

“Who art thou?”

“Greeting, Lady of Alphirion. My name is Leena Midthun, priestess of the Weeping Goddess. Rumors of your plight have reached the ear of one of Nienna’s servants. Her heart was greatly troubled, and she ordered her followers to assist you in any way you need. I will be the first to admit that I am not militant by nature, but I will aid you in any way possible.”

Thagon suppressed a boyish grin as he listened to Leena speak. She could normally speak circles around the head of any mortal, but her performance today was dazzling. Never the one to allow an opportunity to pass, Thagon immediately followed up on her speech.

“And I, Lady Laurel, am Sir Thagon Kestner of the Order of the Black Rose. The priestess has ordered me to aid you in your quest along with Lady Midthun. By the will of Namo, my blade will aid you in the protection of your home.”

[ March 02, 2003: Message edited by: Ransom ]

[cole]

Name:Shadow|Cole
> Race:Elf
> Age:16 human years
> Physical description: 5'5" blue eyes, long dark blond hair,
black cloak
> Background: Travels and helps along the way, especially to
elves, always hates bullying and harassment
> Any special features: small heart shaped mark on left wrist.
> First post:
Shadow has a hard time finding his way to Calembel. Especially since
people kept thinking him to be a naz^gul because of the black cloak.
The sun shone as he took off his cloak, it shone on his dark blond
hair and blue eyes. Being half elven made him look like one of the
men except different somehow. He could not put his finger on it but
dismissed the fact for now he had made it to Calembel where he was to
meet a few of his friends. Travelling again with good friends, what
more could a friend ask for? Maybe.... No nothing that could be
possible at this moment. While walking further he saw some people camped out in the village square. An elf stepped towards him and asked in the fair and calming voice that their kind poessed. "Please stay, the council will be starting soon. Anyone is welcome." "How could I say no." Shadow replied and sat down by some dwarves that were having some sort of conversation. Suddenly the whole square was in a hush as.............


(There, nothing special)

[Taralphiel]

Alywen: Reply to you PM. Sure, send in the extra profile, he's accepted [img]smilies/smile.gif[/img]

Burzdol:Just change the name Taralphiel to Laurel and youve got it! Your character is accepted. But. clarification. Is he from Gondor or Rohan?


Ransom: All I can say is...brilliant! You are accepted! I really look forward to this [img]smilies/biggrin.gif[/img] Your detail and writing style are a great credit to you!

So, heres the count:
Rohan
Ruling Ring (get back to me...)
Ilisit

Gondor
Annunfuin
Jesslyn
Jess' brother
Thagon
Leena

Elves (no spec region as yet)
ShadowCole. Yup! Youre in! just work on the stuff I said and youre character will be great!

Villagers
Fiona

Great! I think we'll need one or two more Rohirrim, and three more Elves

We're almost set!

[ March 01, 2003: Message edited by: Taralphiel ]

[ March 01, 2003: Message edited by: Taralphiel ]

[The Ruling Ring]

TheRulingRing: Get back to me, I’ll wait for you

Aww, thank you! [img]smilies/smile.gif[/img] I'll post the profile right now, then read over the others' first posts and get mine up soon. [img]smilies/smile.gif[/img]

Ohtaredan:

Age: 35
Place of Birth: Rohan
Appearance: About six feet tall, but muscular (in a stocky way). Green eyes. Brown hair. Bushy eyebrows and thick beard. Slumped stance. Traditional garb of a warrior of Rohan. In an Elven dialect, his name means "Warrior-man", though he doesn't necessarily appreciate this.
Other: Ohtaredan's father served as a Rider of Rohan in his time. He wanted Ohtaredan to follow in his footsteps, but he was more interested in crafting weapons than in fighting with them. Ohtaredan's father wasn't happy with this, but he accepted it. However, when, a few years ago, someone mentioned to him in passing that Rohan might be able to do with some new blood in the guard, Ohtaredan's father (now quite an old man) forced Ohtaredan into his profession. Ohtaredan is on the guard with Herebrand and Ilicit, and has trained for several years now with them. He now knows how to hold a sword and he greatly admires and respects his peers, though he still does not yet appreciate what his father got him into. Still, his father's understanding is beginning to wear thin, which is why he leaps at the chance to help Laurel in Swan Wood.

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

How's this? Did I leave anything out? [img]smilies/smile.gif[/img]

I'll be back later with the first post. [img]smilies/smile.gif[/img]

[ March 04, 2003: Message edited by: The Ruling Ring ]

[Annunfuiniel]

Hi Taralphiel! I edited my post, see if it's ok now. [img]smilies/smile.gif[/img]

Annunfuin's first post:

Annunfuin had ridden for what felt like forever. He was too anxious to get to Calembel to care about the lands that he passed on his way. Rugged mountains surrounded him but in the southeast as he crossed the river Ringló near Ethring. He was now following the same route that his King had traveled with the host of the Dead.

Annunfuin reached the gates of Calembel when the sun had already started to sunk towards the horizon. His black Guard uniform had turned grey of dust and he was tired of the days of travel but his senses were as sharp as ever. Everything seemed quiet but silence didn't calm his heart - quite on the contrary. Born and raised in the lively City of Gondor this stillness of the air felt strange and threatening to him.

Annunfuin's mother had used to tell him about this town she was born in; how she met his father and they fell in love. But what he saw now had nothing in resemblance to that town of his mother's stories. Annunfuin made his way pass the deserted houses with their hollow windows that seemed to watch his every step and finally reached the town centre.

Group of people had already gathered around a drained fountain. Annunfuin's eyes narrowed as he glanced over the party. A couple of elves and... I have seen some of these people before, he thought as he dismounted his horse and nodded to company. But he didn't have time to consider this any further as he suddenly heard the sound of hooves approaching from the same direction he had just come. Everyone was at once alert so the relief was great as the comer turned out to be a lonely rider. Her green eyes sparkled in the light of the setting sun as she said in a voice full of pride: "I am Laurel of Alphirion. Who art thou?"

Annunfuin waited for someone else to make the first move for he was in no hurry anymore. He saw how a young woman stepped forward and introduced herself offering her sword to service. Jesslyn was her name. She had just stated her name when a young man shouted: "Jess!". As he came closer Annunfuin became certain that this was one he really knew already. Cartil, yes, that's his name, Annunfuin remembered before the man got to introduce himself. They had met many times in Minas Tirith but hadn't really been in any closer contact. But this might be a good time to get to know him better, Annunfuin considered.

Next one to speak was another woman, Leena, not much older than the previous. After she had finished a tall man (as tall as Annunfuin himself but much more heavy built), which seemed to be former's companion, took his turn. This man, Sir Thagon, was one who Annunfuin had thought he had recognised but his name didn't sound familiar to him. He must have spent a lot of time out of the City for otherwise we should have met. Annunfuin woke from his thoughts and decided it was his turn to speak up. "I am Annunfuin and come too from Minas Tirith. Our high King Elessar sent me here and these are his words: 'Do not loose hope for Gondor has not forgotten ye!'" His chain mail made clinking sound as he stepped forward, bowed his head slightly and unsheathed his sword. "So here is my sword that has faithfully served the King - may it now serve the Lady of Alphirion and her people!"

-----
So there, hope that's good. Gimme a word if something needs to be changed. [img]smilies/smile.gif[/img]

[ March 01, 2003: Message edited by: Annunfuiniel ]

[ March 10, 2003: Message edited by: Annunfuiniel ]

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

Hola (Again!)

I moved Cartil's profile and first post into the post which holds Jess'. I'm not sure how Cartil will work in the group (as far as representing the King goes). Any problems or suggestions are welcome.

Aylwen / Jess / Cartil

[ April 11, 2003: Message edited by: Aylwen Dreamsong ]

[Durelin]

I'd like to be an Elf, and just to let you know, I'm new in Rohan, but I think I'll do fine...I think... [img]smilies/biggrin.gif[/img]

Name: Durcoion

Race: Elf of Lorien, lives in Mirkwood

Age: 103

Description: Durcoion is about 6 feet five inches, with long, pale blond hair and silvery gray eyes. His stance is always that of a warrior. His hand is always near the scabbard at his side, ready to draw at a moments notice. Taught and raised by his uncle, Durelin, Durcoion became an expert with any kind of blade. He was also taught the basics of archery, but nothing more, and found it quite boring. He wears tradition la Elvish clothing, almost always for travelling. His cloak is of a grayish blue, his tunic a light gray. On the pommel of his blade is the detailed, dark red carving of a striking falcon, a symbol earned by him from his uncle, who earned it before him.

Biography: Durcoion was born to Durwen, the sister of Durelin in Lorien. His father is unknown and has always been treated as a sort of naughty child who needs to be shown the right path. His life was made worse when it was discovered that his mother, Durwen, was a spy to the Dark Lord. He remembered Durelin having to accept the shame, and finally leaving Lorien to find his sister. Even more clearly, he remembered the day Durelin returned. He simply gave Durcoion a long, thin, carefully wrapped package, and inside was a bloody arrow. Durcoion was left to figure it out himself, and that he did. It was the first time he had wept, and it would be the last, he had promised himself that. The shame of shedding tears over a loathful women he barely knew, but hated simply because she was a servant of Sauron. But she was his mother. The shame he felt drove him to sware his vow, never to show a sign of weakness again. Durelin felt equal pain and shame, and left again, without a trace. Durcoion couldn't stand living in Lorien. It was such a beautiful place, but it was full of memories. And the beauty itself brought Durcoion to such rage. He couldn't believe that his own blood mother had thrown it away for the everlasting death of serving the Eye. Finally, Durcoion left, like his uncle, without a trace. He wandered for ten years, and was drawn to a grave, he knew he had been drawn to it. It was the grave of hi uncle, his only friend, loved one, and blood relative left on Middle Earth. He retreated to Mirkwood, and with his people swiftly leaving the shores, he knew he would be able to be alone. For some time he considered following them, away from the memories, he hoped at least. But he felt such a shame that he was a bastard to a minion of Sauron, he thought he wasn't worthy of taking the ship into the West. So he lingered, always thinking if he made the right choice, until, for all he knew, the ship had stopped coming.

Good? No? Oh well. [img]smilies/biggrin.gif[/img] I'll get a first post to you soon.

[ March 02, 2003: Message edited by: Durelin ]

[Elfhelm]

Hi!
I'd gladly play a Rider of Rohan if there is still an open spot. If their is, I shall commence writing my profile tomorrow.

By the way, if it is possible that I could be included, I wish to arrive with a group of six or seven other riders. Just one of the Rohirrim coming in alone doesn't feel right. The others will just be secondary characters that you can kill off, but maybe RulingRing's character can come in with my company.

[ March 02, 2003: Message edited by: Elfhelm ]

[Taralphiel]

Alywen: I like Cartil! He’s in!

Ruling Ring: Good profile. Maybe associate yourself with Burzdol or Elfhelm, form a group?

Annun: Good job! You’ve got it nailed!

Durelin: I like your character! He’s in! Maybe just add another zero on his age though. I think that you should probably give Cole, the other Elf, a PM. I was mentioning to him that you could possibly have a council of unnamed elves assigning you there, or, you accidently coming across Taralphiel’s letter requesting for aid. At this point in Middle Earth history (anyone correct me if Im wrong) Cirdan was still left, but was at the Grey Havens. Something to think about

Elfhelm: There is definitely space! Welcome aboard! Good idea with the Rohirrim! And do talk to RR and Burzdol about forming a group, that seems very logical.

Just waiting for the RPG to come up and were off.

[Elfhelm]

All-right then, here's my character!

Name: Herebrand son of Halador
Race: Man, Rohirrim
Age: 25

Herebrand is very tall for a man of Rohan, towering 6'4 above the ground. He is thin, but muscular from weapon training and hard work. He has neat, shoulder-length golden hair with eyes bluer than the sky on a fair weather day and a trim golden beard. Overall, he has a well-formed, handsome face with bold features and a usual good-natured smile. His normal attire includes a grey traveling cloak (that once belonged to his father), a layer of light chain-mail, and a green tunic for the upper body, and leather riding pants and tall boots for his legs.


Herebrand has many distinct traits. He is a perfectionist who wants everything to be done perfectly, and that usually means his way. Other than that, he is fun and cheerful when not in battle, and grim and dour when on the battlefield. He sometimes is overcome with periods of despair, but they often pass quickly. Another important trait of Herebrand is the he is a believer in honor. If his honor is offended, he believes he has no choice other than to defend it. Honor is one of the most important things to him, and if it got to die honorably on the battlefield, he will do so willingly.

History:

Herebrand is the oldest son of Halador, who in turn is oldest son of Herefara, a hero of Rohan during the War of the Ring. Probably being a direct heir of Herefara inspired Herebrand's ideas of honor, for Herefara died on the Pelennor Fields and was forever memorialized in a Rohirrim ballad. Ever since he first heard "The Mounds of Mundburg," Herebrand had been obsessed with conceptions of honor, conceptions that remained into his adulthood. He constantly strived to perform chivalrous deeds, and wished not to die of old age, but on the battlefield like his glorious grandfather. (Also, though he does not know it, Eriador was his great-uncle on his mother's side.)

Since he was of noble lineage, Herebrand received the best training a Rohirrim could have. He was tutored in the use of the longsword by Lord Elfhelm, another Rohan's greatest heroes who was too old to fight orcs on the borderlands. From his expert teaching, Herebrand became skilled in the longsword's use, and at his side he carried a blade given to him by Elfhelm himself. However, though he was a good sword fighter, Herebrand really excelled with the bow. He could shoot from his horse better than some veteran Rohirrim could shoot from the ground. But that was also due to Herebrand's horse Aglar ("glory"), who seemed to be smarter than any of the other Rohirrim's steeds, and who followed his master's commands perfectly.

By age 21, Herebrand was already an experienced Rider of Rohan who had participated in campaigns in Rhun and the Eastern Borders of the Reunited Kingdom. He became a member of an elite eored that was led by Elfwine, King Eomer's son and the Second Marshal of the Mark. Herebrand and Elfwine became close friends, and soon Herebrand began to frequent the Golden Hall. He also gained the favor of King Eomer, and it looked as if he would earn a high position in Edoras.

But things changed when at age 24, his father was slain in an orc ambush in the Wold. Elfwine's eored hunted down and killed all of the dispicable band, but that did not ease Herebrand's grief. Halador's only possession on him was his old cloak made for him when he was a boy. Herebrand vowed to wear this cloak everyday as a sign that he still honored his father. Herebrand had inherited a large estate, but he left it to his mother, for he did not yet desire to give up his warrior life.

In time, his grief did ease, though it haunted him in the night's late hours. As consolation, Elfwine gave Herebrand the command of a small patrol of 12 hand-picked men, and these "outriders" did much of the scouting for the eored. When Taralphiel's plea reached the ears of King Eomer, he asked his son who would be the best Rohirrim to aid the people of Swan-wood. At once, Elfwine suggested his "outriders", and said that there were none better in Rohan. So King Eomer comissioned the outriders of the Second eored to help the Taralphiel's people, for he did not forget the promise he made to her long ago. Departing from an outpost in the West Emnet, the 12-man patrol headed south, intent on reaching Calembel and a rendezvous with the Swan-wood's delegate.

Equipment/Weapons: Longsword, Rohan Bow, father's cloak, engraved dagger (taken from the body of an orc-chieftain), battle-horn, and a horse named Aglar.

I await Ruling Ring and Burzdol's reply to my PM before I make my first post.

[Burzdol]

My guy is from Rohan. He was part of the Guard, going to be a Rider. His group are the others from Rohan.

Ruling Ring- My group is you guys. Okay?

~Burzdol~

[The Ruling Ring]

Elfhelm & Burzdol: I'm good with associating our characters. It sounds like a really good idea. I'll edit the info into my profile now, and after Elfhelm's first post lays down the criterion, I'll put up mine. [img]smilies/smile.gif[/img]

[Elfhelm]

Well, here's Herebrand's first post!

At Calembel, the gathering of people were almost done with their introductions. A soft breeze blew the dust from the old worn road towards the company waiting by the waterless fountain. But after the breeze had died, the dust continued to blow in. The keenest eyed of the little crowd were the first to realize that a party of horsemen were approaching them swiftly.

A dust cloud hurled around the corner of the ruined city’s main road and came to a halt in the square. As the swirling veil of sand lifted, there could be distinguished 13 well-armed Riders of Rohan. Immediately after stopping his large stallion, one of the Riders dismounted with a skillful flourish and stepped forward. The rider was very tall, easily towering over even the Gondorians. He was also thin, but seemingly muscular, which he undoubtedly was from daily weapon training. Upon his head, he bore a steel helm that was fashioned in the style of the Rohirrim, and he promptly removed it to reveal neat golden locks of shoulder-length hair. The Man of Rohan lifted his face to the small crowd, and they found him to have boldly formed facial features, fair skin and sky blue eyes. The man’s facial form went well with his trim golden beard to give him a very handsome appearance. Before he began to speak, he caught Leena’s eye and gave her a charming smile. Then, he addressed the gathering of races with a loud, clear voice that spoke elegantly enough for it to be the voice of a minstrel.

“Greetings my friends and future companions,” the speaker began. “I am Herebrand son of Halador, the leader of this Rohirrim patrol. We are here today to give this message to the people of Swan-wood that was spoken by King Eomer himself: ‘the people of Rohan have not forgotten their promise. We will readily aid you so that your peaceful realm shall not perish for generations to come.’ My men and I pledge our lives to assist your people in ridding your home of raiders and marauders. We are an elite patrol commissioned by Prince Elfwine the Fair to perform special assignments for the Marshals of the Mark, and we will not leave until our job is done!”

This statement was greeted by applause from the gathering, and Herebrand returned to the safety of the horses to speak with his men. His voice lost its regal quality as he conversed animatedly with two of the rohirrim for a few moments. Subsequently, he stepped forward and addressed the assembly again. “Also may I introduce you to Ohtaredan, my second-in-command, and Ilisit Scron, a new addition to my patrol, but nevertheless an expert tracker and warrior.”

[ March 04, 2003: Message edited by: Elfhelm ]

[Durelin]

My extreme apologies, madam, but I must refrain from joining this RPG. School and family matters are taking up too much of my time. Again, I am sorry, but I would rather back out now rather than never posting. [img]smilies/smile.gif[/img] Sorry and thankyou for your understanding.(I hope) [img]smilies/smile.gif[/img]

[Taralphiel]

Elfhelm: Great! I like it! Especially the relation to Eriador.

Durelin: No hard feelings at all! Glad to have your inetest! When you get time, check in and see how its developing!

Now all we need are Elves....

[Burzdol]

When will the game start?[date]

~Burzdol~

[cole]

Your guess is as good as mine

[Taralphiel]

I'm not sure when. Gandalf is in charge of putting on the RPG thread, he will do it soon I'm sure. All he might be waiting for are those Elves...

[Burzdol]

How many more people do we need?

~Burzdol~

[Taralphiel]

All we need are about three or four Elves, enough to make a reasonable sortie. Ill do as Ransom has suggested and PM Gandalf, then we'll get things running [img]smilies/smile.gif[/img]

[The Ruling Ring]

Hello!

Just wanted to let you know, I'll get Ohtaredan's first post up shortly. I can't wait to start! [img]smilies/smile.gif[/img]

Must dash now, though. Working beckons!

TRR

[Elfhelm]

Well, if we can't find any elves, I suppose I could take on another character.

[Elfhelm]

Taralphiel, it seems as if the RPG thread is up now. What should we do, copy and paste our first posts on to it?

[Burzdol]

Yeah, should we wait for elves? I will post on my other RPGs that you are in need of elves.

~Burzdol~

[Elfhelm]

I'm working on a profile for a Mirkwood elf, it should be up tomorrow!

[Taralphiel]

Glad all is coming together!

Note to all: Please copy and paste in your first posts please. This is much more convinient. We will not start till we have four elves

Please bear with me, I am not on every day and carry a reasonable work load in RL.

Maikafanawen: You are accepted, and you do need a little work, but thats fine. I would prefer an Elven name. If you would give me a phrase ie 'Shielded Maiden' I can give you an elven equivalent. I shall also ask if Cole woulod do the same, to make it more authentic. PM Cole and work on your profiles together, youll be able to help each other.

Apart from that, not much. Lets get on the road!

[ March 10, 2003: Message edited by: Taralphiel ]

[Annunfuiniel]

I edited my first post to match better with Cartil's (Aylwen's) post. Hope that's fine now.