Red Flows the Sirannon Planning/Discussion Thread

[piosenniel]

Everyone

Please start to get your CHARACTER BIOS onto this Planning Thread --- SOON

NOTE:

If you need to make changes to your BIO - do it directly to your original BIO post and then alert me with a new post that you've done so (yes, I read every one of them . . .)

Also, if you need to do a FIRST POST for your character - place it at the bottom of your original BIO post - and again alert me with a new post that you've done so.

~*~

Durelin

Which characters need First Posts for the game submitted - Everyone?

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

[piosenniel]

Bringing this forward:

Please remember: only these people may post to the thread at present -


Just check the First Post to this thread for the list of names

Thanks!

~*~ Pio

[Arestevana]

Just checking in...
This is going to be an awesome game.
Esgallhugwen and Nurumaiel, it's great to be role-playing with you again.

[piosenniel]

Sleepy Ranger has requested to be an Elf of Lindon.

I've put you on the list of posters to this thread, Sleepy Ranger.

Please get your Character Bio worked up in detail and place it on this thread for Durelin to see.

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

Everyone

Please start getting your BIOS submitted to the thread or to me if you're a Cameo character.

Thanks!

~*~ Pio

[Durelin]

Sleepy Ranger - So glad to have you!

Concerning bios: So far a couple people who requested to play cameo roles can't complete their bios yet, as I, in my disorganization, have not given them something to work with! Arestevana is included in this, and anyone else added to the list of cameos will be in the same position until I get my act together.

Included in getting my act together is getting a bio and first post completed. So I'll just drift back into the shadows and go back to diligently working...

Gwydion - Please get back to me concerning my PM!

And, if possible, it'd be nice if someone could tell Orofaniel that she needs to clear out her PMs.

EDIT: Oooh, almost forgot...again!

Concerning the title of the RPG, 'Doom of the Mírdain' sounds lovely to me, though I also really love 'Red Flows the Sirannon'...

[Firefoot]

My personal preference is "Red Flows the Sirannon," but I also really like "Doom of the Mírdain."

Nurumaiel - It'll be fun RP'ing with you again! Arestevana, Sleepy - I'm looking forward to playing with you all for the first time!

[Durelin]

Which characters need First Posts for the game submitted - Everyone?

Sorry I missed this. I tried to respond yesterday, but then I had troubles with the forums, and several minutes later I was pulled from the comp, so... Who needs first posts? Well, right now I'm torn between starting the game in the 1590s of the SA, or starting it around 1693, with the everyone responding to and preparing for the threat of Sauron (the very first post of the game would relate a bit concerning the creation of the Rings and such, but the game would jump ahead).

The first option would require first posts only from the Elves of Eregion and the Elves of Lindon, I think. The second option would require first posts from everyone except the Orcs and cameo characters (I think).

The first option could be a bit much; could be a bit early of a start, and could make for a strange transition later. But if it works, it might be very interesting, as long as it works for everyone. The second option would still give us a little setup time, and without what could be an awkward transition (though most likely some kind of *time jump* will be needed to get to the siege itself).

Which would everyone prefer? Please tell me, I need input in my uncertainty.

-Durelin

[piosenniel]

hmmm . . . too bad this didn't come up sooner . . .

This really is enough for 2 games, it seems. And what we've done is started to design the 2nd game.

Here's part of a PM from Child that she sent when we were discussing Durelin's present RPG idea:

For the past few weeks, I have been seriously thinking it would be interesting to do a game based not on the later warfare but on the earlier forging of the lesser Rings. This is why I created Lindir for the Himring game. I have always wondered at what point in their work the Elven smiths suspected something might be amiss. The fact that Celebrimbor did his work on the Elven rings in secrecy certainly suggests he knew something was not right. Of course, exactly how much he suspected about Sauron and the Rings is a matter for conjecture and can't be pushed too far. But it seems to me there had to have been a gradual but rude awakening that suggested Sauron was up to no good. That would be fascinating to trace.

I would recommend that we start at the SA 1693 point and as you say, have a prologue that details the events leading up to that year.

Let's play the game through from that point, then maybe we can persuade Child to design a game for the earlier period . . .

OR perhaps if Durelin has not burnt herself out she would like to work on that proposal with Child

I really do think the game from SA 1693 will be enough for us to chew on and digest for now . . . it will keep all the players engaged and I think it will be a long and in depth endeavor. Starting at the very beginnings of the Rings of Power I think would stretch us too thin.

Besides . . . I have a selfish motive . . . I'm playing my first Dwarf character . . . I don't want to wait to have to play

~*~ Pio

[Sleepy Ranger]

Hello,
Its been ages since I've posted here, its been ages since I did any proper writing but I hope this'll do.

Character Description Form:

1.) Have you ever played in an RPG at the Barrow Downs? – YES/NO - Which one?- Yes, Forgot the name, last year around September.

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

List them, please: None.

Please note you may play in only 2 (TWO) Shire games at one time. Exceptions to this may be made for this on a case by case basis by the Shire Moderators. (The Green Dragon Inn DOES NOT count as a game for this.)


3.) Have you posted in The Green Dragon Inn – YES
_______________________________________

For your character please include:

NAME: Rilrom

AGE: 1,532

RACE: Elf of Lindon

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS (No magical, super-hero, mithril weapons. Just good solid Middle-earth weapons and armor only that is appropriate to the race of the character and the time period.): A slender bow and a quiver of arrows, a long sword called Taris and a trusty dagger. For armor he is clad in naught but a light leather shirt.

APPEARANCE: He has brown hair to his shoulders, brown eyes, slim and about 6’. He is slenderly built and has chiseled features.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: (No half-Elven characters. No mixed-type characters. No super-heroes. No assassins. No one all powerful, martial arts proficient, or having any magical traits. Just regular characters with normal abilities for their races only): Personality- Light-hearted, carefree, fun loving and arrogant would be the best words to describe Rilrom. His laid back and easy going attitude leaves many people in doubt of his talents but he is an asset to any field he chooses to be but more oft than not he is too lazy and unmotivated to take any initiative. He enjoys a good fight though and that as well as proving himself to his father is what leads him from fight to fight.
Strengths- He is very likeable due to his amiable nature. He has a quick and sharp mind and is never afraid to try out different ways of approaching a situation apart from the tried and tested methods. He has a quick mind and can get out of a sticky situation rather easily owing to his speed and mind power which he uses in battle rather than strength to overcome a foe.

Weaknesses- Due to the fact that he takes risks very often, people are rather uneasy trusting him. Though he can talk his way out of most situations its his talking that gets him in them in the first place. He looks down on others due to sheer arrogance, proving himself their superior every opportunity he gets, which has led to him making quite a few rivals.

HISTORY: Coming Soon

'Later
Sleepy

[Durelin]

I really do think the game from SA 1693 will be enough for us to chew on and digest for now . . . it will keep all the players engaged and I think it will be a long and in depth endeavor. Starting at the very beginnings of the Rings of Power I think would stretch us too thin.

All selfish motives aside, you're quite right. And so...my first post will be a rather long one, including a prologue and a first post dealing with my character, and then I'll need first posts from everyone except the baddies and cameo characters, unless the baddie would like to start getting ready for the battle and all that early.

OR perhaps if Durelin has not burnt herself out she would like to work on that proposal with Child

Ooooh...now that might be lovely...if I haven't burnt myself out by the end of this, that is.

EDIT: Sorry, I spoke too soon...

[Child of the 7th Age]

OR perhaps if Durelin has not burnt herself out she would like to work on that proposal with Child

Ooh.... That would be great!

One way or another we really have to do that game! I am more than willing to work on it once my summer of gallavanting is over. I agree with Pio than it would just be too much to chew to try and handle both the subplots in a single RPG. And the later scenario, in itself, has plenty of dramatic potential, to say nothing of blood and gore.

[piosenniel]

Mithalwen has requested to be an Elf of Eregion.

I've put her on the lists.

~*~ Pio

[piosenniel]

Arry will be a Dwarf. He'll pick up my character's brother.

~*~ Pio

[Mithalwen]

ERm beforeI decide.. what are teh elf women supposed to do if they ain't fighting - presumabky they ain't smithing either? So is it just making tea and saying "Did you have a nice day at the forge dear?" or "my you look handsome in you armour" ?

[Durelin]

ERm beforeI decide.. what are teh elf women supposed to do if they ain't fighting - presumabky they ain't smithing either? So is it just making tea and saying "Did you have a nice day at the forge dear?" or "my you look handsome in you armour" ?

Hehe... Well, the fact that the elf women cannot fight does not mean that they are incapable of doing anything heroic and such. And I don't see why an elf woman, if there is an acceptable reason, shouldn't be able to do at least some kind of smithing/crafting. Of course, not every elf woman is going to be, but maybe one or two? And perhaps this is not what you have in mind, but the leading of *refugees* to the north at some point prior to or during the siege could easily be part of what an elf woman could do, and of course I doubt any elf woman who stays in the city will be without both a need and the ability to defend herself. But really, I'm open to all sorts of ideas, just as long as we stay away from warrior princesses and Luthien wanna-bes.

EDIT: Oh, there's one thing I've been meaning to change to the 'Characters Needed'... Yes, yet another change, sorry Pio! I'm thinking 2 Elves of Lorien and 3 Elves of Lindon rather than the opposite. Do you think that's do-able? Though that's with me thinking very optimistically that we will be getting that many people to play roles.

[piosenniel]

I changed the Characters Needed post.

Mithalwen

About Elven women and warriors:

What I'd prefer is that there be no female Elves who serve in the armed troops/guards/guerilla-warfare-spying-on-the-enemy sorts of roles. Tolkien made it quite clear, however, that female Elves were as capable physically as the males. So, when the fighting comes to the city, then I expect the woment to bear arms against the forces of Sauron. (No bare arms, though, they should be wearing light mail or arm-guards).

And I see no reason why a female Elf could not be a crafts-person.

[piosenniel]

Folwren will be joining the game as a Dwarf of Moria. She will be my character's youngest brother. Arry will be my character's younger brother.

Welcome to both! And please get your Character Bios on this thread soon.

~*~ Pio

[Arry]

Looking forward to playing in this game!

Here's my character bio (and thanks to Pio for letting me flesh out her carry-along brother character):

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

Arry's character

NAME: Skald Stonecut (Riv’s younger brother)

AGE: 104 (5 years younger than Riv; born 3 years after the Three Rings were made by the Elven smiths)

RACE: Dwarf – one of Durin’s Folk/Longbeard clan

GENDER: male

WEAPONS: Mattock; for battles in larger, more open spaces, he bears an oak hafted pole axe with a razor sharp edged steel head. Iron helm embossed with runes; long chain mail; thick boiled leather vest; plated arm and leg guards, like his brother.

APPEARANCE: 5’1”; 145 lbs. A little shorter than his brother and of a more wiry build. Thick, brown hair worn in two plaits down his back; they are bound together at their end with a leather thong. Thick beard, worn in two braids on either side of his chin. Dark brown breeches, tan tunic. thick brown leather belt with loops hanging from it – he carries some of his hammers and other tools in it. Black leather knee high boots, well worn, thick soled. Granite grey, hooded cape,

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Like his older brother, he is a patient man – both in his work and in his relationships with friends and family. He is an excellent smith; working with large stones used for columns, doors, staircases, walls. He enjoys figuring out how to make the blocks fit seamlessly together. His artistic needs are met in the carvings he does to decorate stonework. He is especially fond of working with runes and embellishing them. He is an adequate metal worker, but really would like to leave that sort of work to other Dwarves with more skill.

Like his brothers, Riv and Bror, he is loyal to his family and kin. He has not had much dealing with the Elves of Eregion, save for the trips he has made with his brother to sell the gems and ore their family mines, but he is willing to accept his brother’s favorable assessment of them.

He is even less fond of change than Riv. Anything that disturbs his routine can make him peevish. Having said that, he is more quick to anger than his brother.

Skald is not married, though he is at the right age to do so. A lack of available Dwarven maidens is the reason, plus the fact that these are times of great unrest and the thought of bringing a child into such troubles is undesirable.

He is very fond of his nephew, Leifr, and will often take time from his work to teach or entertain the lad. He has some banked pride that the boy is interested in runes and how they spell out words. Skald has made a small set of chisels and a little hammer for his nephew, and often Leifr will be found banging happily away on a small stone scrap as his uncle works. Svala, Riv’s wife, is fond of her brother-in-law and he has a room in their apartments and takes their meals at her table.

One of his talents apart from the arts of stonemasonry and carving is the composition of poems to celebrate their clan’s history.

HISTORY: Much the same as Riv’s, except he was apprenticed to one of the Dwarven stone masons of their family and then to another who specialized in the carving of runes on stone.

Between carving and building projects, Skald still travels with his father to the Vales of the Anduin, trading with those settlements of men there.

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


Arry's post


Skald leaned forward in his chair, his chin planted firmly on his fist. The fingers of his right hand drummed quietly on the table top as the others spoke of war and killing. His dark eyes were troubled with news he’d heard earlier that day. Not wanting to frighten Unna and Leifr he’d waited to share what he had learned until they were safely away in their quarters.

Before Riv could answer Bror's question, Skald spoke up.

‘Want to know the interesting . . . no, make that disturbing . . . morsel I picked up from the King’s guard today? . . . And from Father, too.’ Riv and the others looked at him expectantly.

‘Father was speaking to the King. About some special delivery of stones . . . no, not now but way back . . . before we were twinkles in his eye I think. Anyway, they were for the head of the Jewelsmiths’ Guild, Celebrimbor . . . and a shipment of mithril, too . . . some very high grade stuff.’ He leaned even further across the table, his voice dropping low. ‘Apparently the Elves used them in some big secret project, according to one of the guards. He said Durin opened his locked iron chest and took out some small carven box. He and Father had their heads together whispering about the object in it. Whatever it was it gleamed brightly when the light caught it for a moment. Then the King locked it away . . .’

Before they could hiss ‘And . . .?’ at him. Skald went on.

‘Well, I asked Father about it. At first, all the old man would do was shake his head, his fists clenched. They were fools, he muttered, looking into the distance past me. Damned, silly fools! he said angrily. Father said there was someone whom the Jewelsmiths placed their trust in . . . someone who taught them some special skills in the art of smithing.’ Skald’s throat was dry from talking and he paused, taking a long pull at his mug.

‘And now the Elves, the King had told Father, had done something to displease this teacher of theirs. They have something that he wants badly and he’s bent on getting it. And what’s worse apparently he’s not the kindly, gracious fellow they thought him. He’s got the force to back up his words. That’s what the Orcs are doing all stirred up and starting to cause troubles.

‘When I asked Father who this fellow was, he grew red in the face and spat on the floor. Mahal take the deceiver! he growled. Calling himself Aulendil! . . . Why, he left Mahal’s service long ago . . . taking after that black-hearted Master . . .’

Skald took another sip, the alefoam glistened on the tips of his thick mustache. ‘The old man ranted and raved for a bit . . . you know how he can go on. I was trying desperately to piece together the dribs and drabbles of information I’d eked out from him. Finally, in desperation, I shouted “Hey!” at him as loudly as I could. Got his attention, it did. Quiet little Skald yelling!’

‘Look, I told him, Riv and Bror and Orin and me along with a few of others of us have been asked to escort some Elves from the Lady of the Wood, under the mountain and out to Ost-in-Edhil. Armed Elves. And there may be more coming through. Sounds like it’s more than just some polite visit from one land to another. What are we getting into? Who’s this person you keep cursing at?’

‘Well, I have to tell you what he said next nearly unbraided my beard!’ Skald rubbed his chin hard with his hand, a familiar nervous habit on his part.

‘The Dark Lord! Father whispered, not wanting to name him out loud.’

‘The Dark Lord! I squeaked . . . yes, I’m not ashamed, I squeaked . . . you all remember the horror stories of the great battles against him and his Orcs and worse . . . before Beleriand fell under the waves. Anyway, I managed to stutter out the question that was now burning in my mind. The Dark Lord had escaped from where The Great Ones put him and was back?’

‘Not him, Father said. . . . but just as foul . . . his bootlicking, black-hearted-as-his-Master, servant . . . Sauron . . .’

‘ “Sauron!” I managed to say in a mangled yelp. I remember dreadful stories about him’

‘Yes, Sauron. He’s got himself a dark place between the Ash Mountains and the Shadow Mountains, the King’s told me. And he’s stirring up the foul spawn his Master made. Orcs and who knows what other fearsome beasts. He’s coming for something the Elves have hidden away . . .’

Skald’s voice drifted off into the silence of the room. His hands were clasped tightly about his mug and he stared into it as if it held the secret to keeping his sense of dread at bay. He looked up at his brothers and uncle . . .


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

[Folwren]

Alright, here is my character... Since this is my first RPG, I can't promise that I'll be doing everything right. If anything's obviously wrong or out of place, please, anybody, just PM me and let me know.

Character Description Form:

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

2.) How many RPG’s on the Barrow Downs are you currently involved in? None...since the Green Dragon doesn't count.

List them, please:

Please note you may play in only 2 (TWO) Shire games at one time. Exceptions to this may be made for this on a case by case basis by the Shire Moderators. (The Green Dragon Inn DOES NOT count as a game for this.)


3.) Have you posted in The Green Dragon Inn – YES/NO - you must have posted in the Green Dragon Inn or played in an RPG at the Barrow Downs in order to play in this game. Yes...once.

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

Folwren's character

NAME: Bror Stonecut

AGE: 64 (45 years younger than his brother Riv, and 40 years younger than Skald)

RACE: Dwarf – one of Durin’s Folk/Longbeard clan

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: When hand to hand in combat, so to speak, he uses a short, shafted axe with a wide axe head on one side and on the other, a four inch, sharp spike. When out of range, he enjoys the use of smaller, lighter axes which he has learned to throw rather accurately, and when out of that sort of fighting range altogether, he has an excellent hand with a small bow.
Iron and leather helm, long and short sleeved chain mail, thick, leather vest.

APPEARANCE: Somewhat short next to his brothers, four feet eight inches, and still small in build and stature, maybe making 110 pounds. (Okay, pause here, if this is too light, then tell me. I'm trying to figure out the stature of a small, young dwarf, but Tolkien, as far as I can tell, never gives you weights, and all I have to go by in comparison is my little brother, who's two inches taller than Bror, but is only 65 lbs.) His hair is brown with a hint of red in it, barely long enough to braid in the back, and his beard isn't long enough at all, though it does reach his collar.
Boots that come to his knees, and a green cloak and hood over all.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Unlike his two older brothers, Bror has something of a quick and fierce temper, but it can generally be settled down before too long, and is without a great store of patience. Any real anger that stays and burns quietly is difficult to waken, though he does have his limits. He is, however, pretty easily befriended and on the most part is cheerful.

Change doesn't bother him very much and he loves the sort of adventure of going out and slaughtering orcs, having learned to hate their very name (perhaps he took the stories a little too personally and to extremes). He takes particular interest in the making of weapons - axes, swords, arrow tips, and what ever else - though he doesn't have the patience to make armor, or chain mail. He managed to get an apprenticeship with an Uncle, a sword smith, and he works with him when he's not out with his two brothers on a scouting party.
Whatever time he does not spend at the smithy, or in a scout troup, he often uses on learning how to play the harp. The instrument that he plays is one that his mother's great grandmother crafted, and is a beatiful instrument. Most people are surprised that he has been able to continue playing and learning without loosing interest, but music seems to mean something to him, although he can never quite put it into words. He would not call himself very good at it, though he is better than some.

He holds a certain respect for his older brothers and almost nothing can make him angry faster than an insult sped their way. He also is rather protective of the rest of his family. He loves his sister-in-law and Riv's young son and was very much disappointed when they were taken back to the safer caves.

His main weakness is not staying focused on the job at hand and letting his mind wander...and his next main one would be getting mad too fast. (Hopefully Riv will be there to calm him down when he needs it.)

HISTORY: Assuming that this is the year II 1697, Bror was born in 1633 in Moria, then called Khazad-dûm, if I am not mistaken. As often as he could when he was a youngster he would find the smiths that made weapons and armor and would watch them until someone came to fetch him back home again. He hasn't seen much of the outside world, still being young, but he intends to, in time.

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

Folwren's post

Bror sat silently, plucking with less heart at his harp as he watched Riv take his wife and son away. They passed from the room out of sight and he sighed and tilted his head a little towards the smooth wood of his instrument. He lifted a second hand and once again the chords sang sweetly, though somewhat sadly.

“I wish they didn’t have to go back there every night. We hardly see them anymore,” he said quietly. A hand clapped him on the back and he looked up over his shoulder at Skald, his older brother.

“Cheer up and put the harp away, we’ve got business to discuss.”

Bror got up from the table and took his harp away a few paces and set it on a chair, possibly to be picked up later. He returned and took his seat again as Skald rose and gathered mugs and a skin of ale to wet their throats while they talked.

He had just sat down again when their Uncle Orin entered. A smile came into Bror’s face and he got up again.

“Good evening, Uncle!” he said. “Take that chair, and I’ll get another...How are you?”

The general formalities were swiftly dealt with and for a minute, the three of them sat together in silence. Bror could not stand that for long. What they had to talk about had to do with orcs, and of all creatures, he thought he hated those the most.

“What do you know of this business, Uncle?” he asked, turning to Orin. “I don’t know how much you have heard.”

“I know no more than the little I have heard from gossip,” Orin replied.

“That’s probably not very much, since there is little known,” Bror said. “All that I’ve been told, and I hope that I hear more tonight,” he added casting a glance towards Skald, “is that a company of dwarves are needed at the East Gate to escort a number of elves through Kazad. War’s brewing, evidently, and though we’ve only heard whispers of it, they are getting louder and the rumors are taking shape into ravenous villains who need slaughtering. It’s rather serious, by all accounts.”

Orin lowered his head towards his mug and Bror and Skald both turned their ears towards him to catch the words he muttered to his ale.

“How have I been in the dark for so long?”

“Because you’re always locked up in your room working on who knows what!”

The three dwarves at the table turned quickly to see Riv walking towards them. He gave them a smile as he passed and got himself another mug from the cupboard and a second skin of ale. He came back to the table and pulled a chair up next to Orin, filled their mugs and then his own, held it between his two hands and looked at them seriously.

“Well, what have I missed?” he asked immediately. “We’re taking a full complement of weapons...yes? No telling how long it might take the Elves to make their way down the Stairs and cross the valley. Or what might try to follow them.” A pause while he took a deep drink of his ale. “There have been reports of Orcs sniffing about the Kheled-zaram. Or so I heard.” He banged the metal mug down on the table’s top almost violently and Bror started slightly. “Love to set my mattock in a few of their skulls and pick out what passes for brains among the filthy creatures,” he said, giving his youngest brother a grim smile.
“Yesssss!” Orin exclaimed with evident excitement and obvious agreement. Bror shifted his eyes from his brother to his uncle.

“So, this is more serious than I imagined. I had no idea you all hated those orcs as much as I did. You were always the ones telling me to calm down and quit shouting that I’d kill a whole regiment.” He turned his dark eyes back to his oldest brother. “Is that what we’re going to do?”

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

[Folwren]

Thank you very much for allowing me to join. I hope I don't end up messing stuff up, but I'm trusting people to tell me when I'm going wrong.

If anything in the bio looks wrong, let me know and I'll reconsider.

And if no one's noticed, I'm pretty nervous, but very much excited, about this. (I'm just afraid of appearing like a fool.)


-Folwren

[piosenniel]

That looks great, Folwren!

You'll see an 'edited by piosenniel' on your post - I'm setting it up for transfer to the game's general discussion thread when we open for play.

I've also put a place for your First Post to the game at the end of your BIO post. Once I've done my first post - you can follow its lead.

Again, welcome aboard!

~*~ Pio

[piosenniel]

Boromir88 has requested the last slot for the Dwarves of Moria.

Welcome aboard! I've put your name on the list of posters for this thread.

Please get your Character Bio onto the thread soon.

Thanks!

~*~ Pio

[Durelin]

Wonderful, wonderful! I'm so excited! Welcome Folwren and Boromir88! And wonderful bio, Folwren and Arry. And please, Folwren, don't be nervous...though, I'm nervous about this game too.

Here's my first apology. I'm sorry for holding things up, though this has given more time for people to join. But since I still haven't gotten my bio or post finished, no one's been able to really start on their first post, considering... I'm very sorry for this, and I have almost completely finished the *prologue*, and am over halfway done with my bio. So, we'll be moving along soon, I hope.

Thank you, Pio, for changing the 'Characters Needed' thing. And thanks to everyone for taking part in this game, and putting up with me.

[Folwren]

Don't apologize too profusely. I probably prefer it this way. It's given me time to research a bit, consider my character, and catch my breath and figure things out about RPing.

I'm actually still wondering what exactly will need to go into the first post. I understand that I can wait until Pio writes hers, and she waits until you write yours...I guess that I'll figure out what I need to write once I've had those two first examples. I would take some suggetions, explenation, or help, however.

I'm looking forward to your bio. Those things are enjoyable. And the prologue should be extremely interesting. Fun stuff.

[Boromir88]

Durelin it is a pleasure.

1.) Have you ever played in an RPG at the Barrow Downs? – YES/NO - Which one?
Yes, Ungoliant's Children, Siege of Gundabad, and Sailing Away.

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/NO - you must have posted in the Green Dragon Inn or played in an RPG at the Barrow Downs in order to play in this game. Yes

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

Boromir88's character

NAME: Orin Bronzeeyes (Uncle to Riv, Skald, Bror)

AGE: 205 years old. (One of the eldest of the dwarves still left in Moria).

RACE: Dwarf, Durin's folk/Longbeard clan.

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: A, two-handed, double-bladed, battleaxe he uses for tight, cramped areas. A small one-handed iron axe used as a secondary weapon.

APPEARANCE: 4'11, rather short compared to other members of his kin but he more than makes up for it. Over the years Orin has packed on a few extra pounds as well. He has a long greyish/white beard that reaches down his thighs and braids his pure white hair into one LONG ponytail. He can still wield an axe better than most and his age and plumpness have no effect on his endurance when he gets into a rage. Orin is not one to trust to armor, feeling as it slows him down (or maybe it's just become more of a burden). He does wear a mail hauberk crafted by himself. He also carries a wooden shield with a rune only he understands.

PERSONALITY-STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Orin is feared as one of the best when it comes to wielding an axe in battle. Often when he sees orcs (or some foul creature) he builds into a maddening rage and you can hardly tell he is 205 years old. There lies his biggest weakness. He is lightly armored compared to the other dwarves, although he will never admit it, heavy armor becomes a burden to him. Also, with his growing age he has lost a lot of the speed in his attacks that his young nephews still have. However, his elogance and efficiency, when wielding a weapon, makes up for it.

Orin is a strong believer in family and strong bonds with his kinsman. He would put the life of any of his fellow dwarves above his own. The problem is if you aren't one of his kinsmen, or a family member, he finds it hard to trust you or make friendships. He often remembers prior feuds and has trouble forgetting the past (unless you happen to be another dwarf). If you are one of the few Elves he respects then you would be grateful to have Orin at your side, but if not, then it's just best to stay out of his way.

HISTORY: Orin was born 98 years before the forging of the three elven rings. He is one of the oldest dwarves still left to defend Moria. For most of his life Orin just spent learning the fine art of craftsmanship from his father, Frorin. He has never married, and has no children, but does have three nephews (being the eldest brother of their mother); Riv, Skald, and Bror. With no family of his own Orin has often tried to look after his nephews, whenever he could.

Orin has lived to watch the two eldest brothers to grow up and become fine, stout dwarves. He now focuses mostly on the youngest, Bror, realizing that sometimes he has a quick temper, and can get him into some trouble. He feels that Riv and Skald are old enough now that they don't need his guidance much anymore, but that doesn't mean he cares for one more than another. He simply recognizes Bror's anger and tries his hardest to guide him and would not able to cope with the possibility of failure.

----------------------------------------------------------------------
Boromir88's post

Orin was well aware of the rumor of the gathering of orcs, but he was not prepared on leaving, and had no intentions to. He sat fiddling with his double-bladed battleaxe wondering what this meeting was going to be about. Most of colony had heard the whispering of threats from orcs and other dark creatures. Perhaps it is just to confirm the situation, he thought.

While Orin was deep in thought he had not noticed that he cut his thumb on his axe. He smiled as he was pleased it was still sharp and if the rumors of orcs were true they aren't getting through Moria without a fight. Then it suddenly came to him, a poking pain in his thumb. It wasn't a serious cut, but it felt like one of those annoying papercuts; a sharp pain for days.

Orin cleaned up his cut, grimacing a bit while doing it, and decided he should be heading off. When he got there his two younger nephews, Skald and Bror, were already there, but he had not seen Riv yet. That is odd he mumbled. He greeted his two nephews with friendly hugs and went off to sit with some of the older dwarves. He wanted to see what they knew about the matter. Most of them knew just as much, or less than Orin, which wasn't much. He ran into an old friend, Fawrin, who was full of the latest rumors.

"They say a man named Annatar, who was once a friend of the elves, has turned against them." Fawrin began. "He is beginning to gathering a large force of orcs to launch an assault on Eregion."

Orin stood and pondered these "rumors," and wondered if there was any truth in them at all. "Who was, or is, this Annatar?" Orin asked.

"I don't know. All that's said is he was once a friend of the elves. Why he would all of a suddenly want to attack them is beyond me." Fawrin said.

"If he is attacking them, you mean." Orin chuckled. "Don't put faith in the whispering of the outside world. Especially if they are dealing with elves." Orin said elves in a sarcastic, demeaning way, for he did not like them very much. Except the elves of the lady of the Golden Wood. Her and her people had often had good relationships with the dwarves. Now that his mind was off elves, he still wondered where Riv was. "Have you seen Riv?" He asked Fawrin.

"No I haven't," he answered. "but I haven't gone looking for him either." They both laughed. "Well I better be off. Someone has to do the rumor spreading." Orin chuckled again as Fawrin left. He had always like Fawrin for his humor and ability to bring a smile to someone.

Orin sat down next to Bror and Skald and began to discuss the situation. Orin began to realize that the rumors weren't just rumors anymore; war was threatening and it would surely effect everyone.

"How have I been in the dark for so long?" Orin said to himself, but the others heard him.

"Because you're always locked up in your room working on who knows what." Laughed a familiar voice. Riv had finally come. He greeted everyone and took a seat, as well as getting a mug of ale, and got right into business.

‘Well, what have I missed? We’re taking a full complement of weapons . . . yes? No telling how long it might take the Elves to make their way down the Stairs and cross the valley. Or what might try to follow them.’ He took a deep drink from his cup. ‘There have been reports of Orcs sniffing about the Kheled-zaram. Or so I heard.’ He banged the metal mug down on the table’s top, a little ale foam splashing over the side. ‘Love to set my mattock in a few of their skulls and pick out what passes for brains among the filthy creatures . . .’

"Yesssss." Orin shouted in a bellowsing voice that shook the hall. The mumblings of war and Riv's talk had inspired him.



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

[piosenniel]

PLAYER/CHARACTER LIST SO FAR:



See Page 4 for complete list

[Amanaduial the archer]

Helloo again...

Just two quick pointers before I skidaddle for the weekend again - sorry...

En la sujet de la title... I actually do much prefer Farewell to the Elvensmiths. It just has an air of melancholia that seems to be a running them through elven history; and the aura of wistful sadness balances out the 'fair share of blood and gore', as Child so put it.

Secondly, about Durelin's dilemma over the first post and starting point: I see your point, Pio, this could be extended into two games, cherish the thought, but I don't think that necessarily limits where the game could start - after all, wouldn't want to waste a good ol' fashioned forging scene if the second game wasn't to materialise, right? You're right, we should probably have addressed this beforehand, but no matter at all. Personally, I would favour, in a way to start with the 1590s and the forging, but with one pointer: just have a single introductory post. A scene setting, so to speak. A show of the importance of this most vital event around which the entire game, all it's events and every character's fate will hinge. Basically a little hefty on the importance side However, I would then skip immediately to around 1693 and get the first posts in there. So as far as first posts are concerned, the 1690s are the starting point for the game, but for the very, very first post, the forging in the 1590s would be highly preferable in my opinion.

Just my two pence (what ho, old chap) to add to the pile.

-Aman

[Durelin]

Please add Evinyatar to the list of players.

And in response to what Aman has addressed, I will have the prologue up ASAP, which begins with some major setting up in about 1590. If I can ever get my bio fully completed , I'll post it with that. And that will very soon!

[piosenniel]

Here's the list of preferences for the game title:

• Farewell to the Elvensmiths - Aman
• Siege of Eregion
• Sack of Ost-in-Edhil
• Doom of the Mírdain - Enca; Durelin; Firefoot
• Red Flows the Sirannon - Pio; Firefoot; Durelin; Folwren

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

A prologue to place the RPG within its historical setting is a great idea. And has been done before in different ways for other Shire games.

The only thing that concerned me was actually starting the game play at the forging of the Rings and continuing on to the flight of the refugees with Elrond to found Imladris. If played in depth, as I'm hoping this game will be, it would simply be too ponderously long.

If the other game with Child and Durelin comes to life it will be really interesting to see our characters in their heyday.

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

Welcome, Envinyatar! I'll put your name on the posting list.

~*~ Pio

[Envinyatar]

Looking forward to playing in this game.

I'll take one of the Elves of Lindon characters. Will get the bio up early next week.

- E -

[Kath]

I'm so sorry this took so long and that it is pretty short but this is the first time I've done this so I'm not entirely sure as to what is expected.

NAME: Olburz

AGE: Unknown

RACE: Orc - a corrupted elf

GENDER: male

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

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


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

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

[Durelin]

Okey...here's my bio, and the prologue.

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

Durelin's character

NAME: Maegisil

AGE: 1552 at the time of the forging of the Rings, 1655 at the beginning of the War of the Elves and Sauron

RACE: Elf, dwelling in Ost-in-Edhil in Eregion

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: Maegisil carries a long, slender elvish blade that he crafted himself, forging the blade from mithril gifted to him by his master Celebrimbor, and using wood from the mallorn, among the material traded from Lórinand. When in battle, he carries a large war shield bearing the crest of his lord, an emblem that Celebrimbor had designed himself, refusing to bear the Dispossessed of the House of Fëanor, as he had renounced the deeds of his house following the death of Finrod, caused by the many effects of the Oath of Fëanor, and only he remained of that house by the Second Age. Maegisil carries the sign of his lord in great respect and admiration, feeling it a part of his duty.

APPEARANCE: Maegisil stands quite tall, even for his people, at about 6’5”. He is not at all heavily built, but has notable muscles in his legs and arms, as a fine swordsman. He has a very agile and supple body, and is quick on his feet. His hair quite dark, nearing black, and is kept to fall only a few inches below his shoulders. He has grey eyes with a tint of green to them that can make his eyes look completely green if he is wearing a green tunic or the like. His face is a slender oval; his nose is perhaps slightly on the large side, but fitting his face; his lips thin; his chin rather prominent, and his ears rather small and, of course, pointed. (And though his ears are small, he has excellent hearing.)

Maegisil usually wears a shirt of a light, misty grey color under a tunic a dark blue that hangs to about midway down his calf. He wears fitted pants of the same colour as his shirt, black soft-leather boots, and a dark leather belt at his waist that his sheathed hunting dagger usually hangs upon.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Duty is very important to Maegisil, sometimes seemingly the most important thing to him, and it has the greatest effect on his personality. He is very passionate about the people and ideals that are close to him, often so much so that he can be very close-minded, and his judgment can be clouded by his feelings. He is undyingly loyal to those he loves, as well as his people and his beliefs, and can be naïve about this.

His passion and loyalty are a part of his overall strength of character, as an elf with a strong and loving heart whose perseverance drives him to great accomplishment as a warrior and a servant, and makes him always ready to rise to the occasion, no matter what is demanded of him. His faithfulness and his fervor and deep capacity to love are also a large part of his relationship with his wife, Sairien. He is very trusting of the people that he sees as trustworthy, but everyone must earn this view from him, and this is not an easy thing to do. When it comes to whom or what Maegisil places his deep-rooted faith in, he is not at all naïve.

He is also not at all the kind of person who loves ‘freely’. Perhaps it would strengthen his character if he was such a person, but it is in his nature to show love for a very select few, and to show only the amount of respect that seems proper for everyone else. He is most often outwardly stern and dutiful, and has been told to ‘loosen up’ on occasion. This appearance sometimes makes him initially disliked, though most often those who get more acquainted with him warm up to him quickly. Maegisil may not be an open book to anyone but Sairien and Celebrimbor, but he can easily lose his severity and show a warm face to others.

HISTORY: Born in SA 38, Maegisil was one of the first born in Lindon. He was raised as a both a warrior, a defender of his people, and as a craftsman, who could serve his people in many ways. In SA 750 he was among the younger, adventurous elves who accompanied Celebrimbor in the founding of Eregion. In those travels, Celebrimbor came upon the young elf practicing his swordsmanship (mainly, in his brashness, to show off what he had recently learned from an elder, more seasoned warrior – one of Celebrimbor’s personal guards), and examined the blade Maegisil was using, in curiosity. When the young elf informed the lord that he had crafted it himself, Celebrimbor became even more interested, and they spoke for a long time. This was, of course, not the last time they spoke, and it came that the elf-lord practically adopted Maegisil as a son.

In the many years that followed, he became more of a brother than a son, growing wise and strong in both mind and heart, as well as body, through the help and simply the observation of one such as Celebrimbor. His crafting skills were also drastically improved, as we was personally instructed by the elf-lord. Soon, Maegisil was appointed by the lord to a position in which he acted as a personal assistant to Celebrimbor, though his job was less like a servant’s and more comparable to that of a counselor, though Maegisil would never be as bold to consider it such. Around SA 1200, however, Maegisil began to counsel his lord less, as a person named ‘Annatar’ had arrived, and, following this, the elf-lord began to spend quite a bit of his time in the forge. Still, Maegisil saw much of Celebrimbor and aided him many a time until around 1500, when the elf-lord grew even scarcer. The one called Annatar was always coming and going, and by the early to mid 1500s, Maegisil did not see him at all, and was gladdened by this. He assumed that he would see more of his lord with Annatar gone. But he found himself to be wrong.

The Lord Celebrimbor still performed all his usually duties, and spoke with his friend Maegisil, but did so less and less, slowly. Late in the year 1590, Maegisil asked for the lady Sairien’s hand in marriage, as he had long been acquainted with and had spoken to her, as she was part of Celebrimbor’s court. But, soon after this, Celebrimbor disappeared for 6 days, working constantly in the forge. When he finally emerged, he acted strangely, speaking of Rings and of his creations. For years Celebrimbor hid what he had crafted, until late in 1692, when the Elves were on the brink of war with Sauron, who had grown much in power. Following this, he sent the Three to Lindon, where it was determined where to hide them, so that Sauron would never possess them. As Celebrimbor prepares for defending Eregion from Sauron’s forces, Maegisil aids him in every way that he can, and readies his sword for the defense of Ost-in-Edhil.

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

The Three ~ A Prologue

Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky,
Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone,
Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die,
One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne
In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.

In the Second Age of Middle-earth, deep within the heat of the forge, the rhyme was fulfilled. Sauron, under the disguise of one named Annatar, had come to the Elven-smiths, the Gwaith-i-Mírdain of Eregion. Dark magic bred deception, and Sauron the Deceiver seduced the Elves, taking on a body fair and majestic. The might of a Maia and the skill of the elven craftsmen brought into the world a new power, a power which few knew the true greatness of. It is unlikely that even its creators knew its full power, besides perhaps the great trickster, the servant of Morgoth. Might and authority, fueled by deep magic from the dawn of time, was poured into the molds in the shapes of rings, and these creations, the greatest of crafts forged by the Noldorin smiths, became the Rings of Power.

The magic of all nineteen of these rings, and one other, would be a part of Sauron’s greatest treachery. Only three would survive and make the journey to Valinor with their bearers. These were the greatest of the Rings, named Narya, Nenya, and Vilya, which had been forged by Celebrimbor himself, Lord of Eregion.

~*~*~*~

c. SA 1590

“It has been quite some time since I saw Lord Celebrimbor…” The Elf trailed off, an unspoken question hanging on the silence that followed. “It has been some time for me as well, Master Annúnfin,” Maegisil replied, speaking as if he was only lightly commenting, but answering his companion quite seriously. He knew it was important business when Annúnfin wished to speak with the Lord Celebrimbor, and when the Elf-lord had been absent from his normal duties for so long. “I will be sure to inform him that you wish to speak with him, when I do see him,” he finished, his last words bringing many thoughts to his mind. When…I hope that shall not be much longer.

It was difficult for Maegisil to explain to all those who wished to receive an audience with the lord that he could not even speak to his master, and had not been able to for many days; this was unexpected, as Maegisil had served Celebrimbor as the lord’s attendant for many years now. Though Maegisil would never be so bold as to say it, he was also a close friend, and an old friend, of the lord.

Celebrimbor had been spending almost all of his time in the forge, sweating over his work, and conversing mostly with the visitor, Annatar. The strange elf – at least, Maegisil believed he was an elf; he was certainly of a fair race, though it was impossible to say which he belonged to for sure – seemed to be some sort of a magician. What business this elf had with the Lord of Eregion was a mystery to Maegisil, as well as to all those who had never even had a chance to speak to the lord before, and those who knew him well. It was bewildering to all except those who worked in the forge with Celebrimbor and this ‘Annatar’, some of the greatest of the Noldorin craftsmen, second only to Celebrimbor himself. For almost seven days now the forges at Ost-in-Edhil had been burning, it seemed, day and night, and had been kept off-limits to most of the city dwellers. Maegisil had ventured to speak to his lord the previous afternoon, and had briefly watched several of the smiths at work. There had been much noise emerging at a constant rate from the forge for those past 6 days, so that Maegisil had barely been able to hear his own voice over the clamor, but now all was quiet, and only the barred doors told anyone that they were still hard at work. Hopefully, though, the silence meant that their task, whatever it was, was nearing completion, and Maegisil would no longer have to wait in his Lord Celebrimbor’s antechamber, spending hours pacing and straightening gemmed statues and chests, and delicately woven tapestries on the walls, and rich cloths over table-tops…none of which needed any straightening whatsoever.

Annúnfin muttered some kind of thanks with a slight bow of his head in simple respect, and turned to go. But Maegisil watched as the elf turned back in one swift motion and looked him in the eye, and he prepared himself for more questions that he could not answer. He was surprised when Annúnfin simply said, “I was pleased to hear you have found yourself a wife, Maegisil.”

Maegisil stumbled on his thoughts for a moment, his mouth open to reply but words coming out. Finally his mind caught up with his mouth and he responded. “Thank you,” he began, a little uncertain, and obviously caught off-guard by Annúnfin’s comment. “It has been wonderful, very wonderful.”

A small smile formed on Annúnfin’s face, his eyes full of an understanding that Maegisil believed he would never have. Master Annúnfin was decidedly his elder, and never left any doubt of this in Maegisil’s impression. The elder elf turned to go again, and this time, Maegisil watched him walk away through the large gilded doors that exited into the great hallway that led up to his chambers. Maegisil’s mind traveled to thoughts of Sairien, his wife. But he did not have long to dwell on these, as they were interrupted by the flinging open of the doors of the antechamber. Immediately Maegisil looked up from the patch of beautifully tiled floor he had been staring at, knowing before his eyes even had a chance to see who was entering the chamber that only one person had ever flung those doors open before, and normally in excitement.

“Maegisil! My dear Maegisil!” Celebrimbor was practically shouting, seemingly frantic with excitement, full of energy, and obviously quite happy to see the elf that he had just found waiting in his antechamber. “I have much to tell you!”

“As have I to tell you, my lord,” Maegisil responded, maintaining an outwardly calm and dutiful appearance, though he was full of happiness to see that his lord was quite safe and healthy, and to finally be able to speak with him. He also felt a certain amount of excitement following Celebrimbor’s entrance, matching the elf-lord’s manner.

“Please, Maegisil, there is no necessity for any ‘my lord’s. These are my chambers, and so you may call me what you please.” Maegisil knew this, though he did like showing what he felt was the proper respect, and was prepared to respond, but he was ran over by Celebrimbor’s words, which rushed out in his enthusiasm.

“But you must know…I have finished them, and they are the greatest of all things I, or anyone, has ever crafted. Perhaps they are great enough even to relinquish my cursed House’s honor, though I doubt there is anything even an immortal can do in this Age or any Age to come that would out-do the power of the Oath of Fëanor.”

The lord paused long enough for Maegisil to speak quickly, “What have you finished, my lord?”

In his haste, he had forgotten to leave off the ‘my lord’, but it seemed that Celebrimbor no longer cared, as he was too deep in thought, seemingly enthralled with this new accomplishment that he spoke of vehemently. “Why, they are the Three. They are the greatest of the Rings of Power, of all 19. Yes, 19, after 90 years. And I fear there must be more to come. They truly are like nothing this world has known, even in Ages past, even with the War of the Silmarils long behind us. Of course, the creation of most of the rings was made possible by Annatar, and now…” He trailed off, his excitement slowly turning from confusion to what could only be fear. That was not something Maegisil was accustomed to seeing on the face and in the eyes of the elf-lord.

“Now what? I do not understand…” Maegisil trailed off, realizing that he really had nothing to say, though there were hundreds of questions running through his mind.

“Now, I am afraid I have made a grave mistake. A mistake that will affect the lives of many in both this Age and the Age to come, perhaps even Ages to come. I am very afraid, Maegisil, very afraid of what I, and my craftsmen, have done, and I am even more afraid of what the one I know only as Annatar has done, and what he will do. O by the Valar, Maegisil! For the first time in my life, I do not know what to do.”

Maegisil felt very uncertain in the silence that followed; he was confused, as well as uneasy and afraid, though he did not even understand why he was at all at unrest, except for what he saw in the look in Celebrimbor’s eyes and what he heard in the tone of his voice.

“What should I do, my lord?” he asked, cautiously, breaking the silence.

“I do not…” he stopped in the middle of this thought, took a breath, collecting himself, and started again, his thoughts renewed, “Soon, the Three must go from here. They must be hidden; they cannot be kept here. Though Annatar is gone, and he has been gone for some time, they mustn’t be within his reach. There is no way to undo what has been done, but, though they seem a curse to me now, the Three will not leave the house of our people.”

~*~*~*~

c. 1600

Maegisil bowed before the Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn next to an elf he did not know the name of and their dwarf companions. He and this elf had traveled through Moria at the direction of the dwarves to exit through the eastern gate and make their way to Lorien, where they had recently been welcomed and led to Caras Galadon. Maegisil had been told very little by Celebrimbor, and was given only the instructions to guard his elf companion, and not bring any attention to themselves or their movements. Following orders, Maegisil did not ask the elf his name, and spoke to him only to make suggestions as to what paths they should take to avoid different obstacles of the land. Now that they had reached their destination, Maegisil did not speak at all.

The strange elf rose from his bow as the Lady Galadriel came forward. He turned to give Maegisil a look that clearly meant to stay out of his business. So Maegisil backed away to stand some distance from the elf, gesturing that the dwarves following him. Of course Viss Stonecut and his companions did not like this at all, and they grumbled a bit before joining Maegisil. Viss was the first to move, and the rest followed his lead. At least two of the dwarves present were certainly related to him, and younger, and obviously they held some kind of respect for him. There were only four dwarves, but even four of that race was enough to be quite the crowd, and they looked odd standing in a clump in the domain and presence of so many elves. Maegisil remained removed from them and watched in wonder as Galadriel accepted a small wooden chest from the unnamed elf. The Lady’s face was marvelously frightening as it scanned the faces of those who surrounded her, meeting Maegisil’s eyes for a moment. She did not smile as she had when she greeted them.

Suddenly she spoke, and spoke to all present. It seemed she was not as keen to hiding the proceedings. “Remember that there will always be light in Lorien, as I will bear this Ring, Nenya. You will always be safe here.” And as she raised her hand aloft just slightly, all present realized she had opened the chest and already donned what it contained. The beauty of Nenya startled them all, and left them full of wonder. Soon, far away upon the western shores of Middle-earth, the Elven-kings Gil-galad and Cirdan would wear the Rings Narya and Vilya, and the Three Rings for the Elven-kings, and Queen, would remain as powers of good in Middle-earth until they passed over into the West.

~*~*~*~

Late in the year SA 1692

Maegisil rushed up several flights of stairs only to stop and cautiously enter a pair of gilded doors, his mind filled with memories, all that he recalled from a day over a century ago. It did not seem that long ago, and yet the thought that the day he recalled was only several days after he had asked for his Sairien’s hand in marriage was nearly unbelievable.

Entering the chamber behind the gilded double doors, Maegisil found, of course, exactly whom he was looking for, reclining on a long couch and examining a game board with many small, flat, rounded stone pieces on it in designated positions. It was some kind of strategy game that the elf-lord had once tried to teach to Maegisil, praising how consuming it was and how much it put the mind in a struggle, forcing it to think as quickly as it could under pressure. Just what a general needed, he had said. As Maegisil had no interest in becoming a general, and simply wished to remain in his place at Celebrimbor’s side in battle, he had quickly given up on the game.

“My lord,” he began cautiously, interrupting Celebrimbor’s thoughts so that the lord’s head snapped up from the game board with a perturbed look on his face. His face softened quickly, though, and he asked Maegisil what had brought him here.

“Well, sir, we have received word from the King Gil-galad that the servant of Morgoth, Sauron, has grown in power enough that his armies have begun to terrorize the eastern part of these lands.”

“Sauron…much have I heard that name of late.” The elf-lord rose, a troubled look on his face, and began to pace. “He has even been in my dreams,” he paused in his pacing, and in his words, to look Maegisil in the eye, urgency written upon his face.

“It was only a matter of time before he would attack and strike back at our people.”

“But we still are in possession of the Three, and they are safe.” Maegisil cut in, reminding the elf-lord that there was at least one possible advantage.

“I can only hope that they will be more a blessing than the curse that they seem to be,” Celebrimbor quickly said in response to Maegisil’s statement, still unsure of whether or not the safe existence of the Three was in fact a good thing.

“They are not a curse as long as they are safe in the hands of Kings and a Queen of our people," the younger elf assured his lord. “And Lord Elrond has been sent to our aid with a considerable force,” Maegisil said, hoping to bring some kind of relief to his lord, uncertain of what the elf was so afraid of, and quickly growing afraid himself.

“It will be some time before he will reach us here, and Sauron will be moving quickly. Not too quickly – he is too wise for that. But his armies will arrive in Eregion, and they will march upon the gates of Ost-in-Edhil, and he will call upon me. But he does not know where the Three are, nor of the oath I have sworn…”

“We will be prepared for Sauron’s attack, my lord," Maegisil said, again trying to give his lord confidence in the situation. “Sauron is very strong, and our strength here does not match that of Forlindon and Harlindon, but there are many in Eregion that will fight for you.”

Celebrimbor laughed slightly, leaving Maegisil confused. It was almost a bitter laugh, and was the kind of laugh you hear from someone who is distressed and yet finds something to be darkly laughable. “I know you will fight for me, Maegisil,” the elf-lord said, “but I ask it of you and others to fight for our people, for their families.”

Maegisil only nodded, standing grave and silent before his lord, and recalling the day over century ago when Celebrimbor had first told him of the Rings. He was again afraid as he had been on that day, and when he looked at Celebrimbor, tall, fair, and brooding, he knew that the lord felt that same: afraid and uncertain. The biggest difference to Maegisil this time was the more prominent presence of Sauron. Since around the year 1200 of that age, word had it Sauron had been establishing his fortress in Mordor, and now the threat of the Dark Lord was even more of a reality, and all were learning to tremble slightly at that name, most likely to the pleasure of its bearer.

Celebrimbor asked Maegisil if he would bring the King’s emissary to him, feeling it of course proper that he receive them and speak to them himself. The younger elf quickly obeyed and left the elf-lord alone, deep in thought. The master of the Elvensmiths had much on his mind, and few of his thoughts were pleasant.

As he had sworn, the Three Rings, the greatest creations he had ever crafted, which he had hoped would be a blessing to himself and to his people, would never fall out of the hands of the Eldar, as they were hidden safely. They had been for close to a century, as he had long awaited the time when Sauron the Deceiver, or ‘Annatar’ as he had known him for a time, would strike with the power of his Ring. But the other rings were all in Sauron’s possession. Celebrimbor kept coming back to this thought, the knowledge of just how far the Deceiver’s power extended. But, as the elf-lord kept telling himself, he would never have the greatest, the Three. They would be a powerful defense for his people. Or so, at least, he hoped the future of these rings would unfold. I beg of Ilúvatar, let not the Oath of Fëanor mar this.

[Folwren]

For a title, I prefer Red Flows the Sirannon, I think. Frewell to the Elvensmiths is good, too, but that'd be my second choice.

And prologue with the forging of the rings and then skipping to the 1690's sounds best to me. (My character isn't alive at the forging of the rings, I don't think, so to go back there and hang around that time period would put me out altogether.) I've not yet read Durelin's prologue, but I'm about to.

[Envinyatar]

Here is my character for your perusal.

Let me know if anything needs tweaking.

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

Games previously played in:

Holiday in the Sun; Escape from Nurn; A House Divided; Wilderness, Weathertop, and Wild things.

Posted in the Green Dragon: Yes

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

Envinyatar’s character

Name: Ondomirë

Age: born in I 200 (310 years at the fall of Gondolin; 2080 in II 1697 when Eregion fell. 245 years older than Gil-galad; 325 years older than Elrond)

Race: Elf; Noldor, originally from Gondolin

Gender: male

Appearance: 6’ 7” (a little over 2 meters), 220 lbs (around 100 kg); lithely muscled, finely chiseled face; grey eyed; raven hair worn in a thick plait to his mid back. Wears: Light grey tunics of a soft material over darker grey breeches. Black twice wrapped, wide leather belt with a plain silver buckle. Black leather, mid-calf boots. Dark blue cape which bears on its left shoulder a silver-white brooch in the shape of an arrow head, set with a deep purple stone.

Weapons: Great bow of yellow yew wood; unadorned black leather quiver hung from his belt filled with arrows fletched in white, dark blue, purple, and black. Plain short sword in a worn leather sheaf hung opposite to his quiver. Black leather vambraces traced with an arrow head design in silver. Long, light metal mail vest, shimmers like fish scales. Light, silvered leg guards. Silvered helm which bears a fan of purple feathers on its front piece.

Personality, strengths, weaknesses: Even tempered, reliable. Honors the Valar; loyal to the High King. Quiet, reserved man, and save for his size, unobtrusive. Keen observer of those about him. Excellent archer, having served under Duilin in Gondolin with The House of the Swallow. Adequate at blade work for close in fighting.

History: Born in Gondolin about 75 years after Turgon founded it. His family was part of the Folk of the Swallow, one of the twelve Houses of Gondolin. The Folk of the Swallow were formidable archers and served the High King of the Noldor in the defense of the Hidden City.

When Gondolin fell to Morgoth’s troops, Ondomirë escaped with the remnant of Turgon’s people and took refuge with them in the havens at the mouths of the Sirion. Gil-galad, who had become High King after the death of Turgon, was at that time also residing with the Exiles at the Havens. Ondomirë never married; he is the only remaining member of his family.

Elrond was born at the havens and later, after choosing, to remain among the kindred of the Elves, also chose to remain with Gil-galad. After the War of Wrath and the sinking of Beleriand, Gilgalad established a kingdom in Lindon.

Ondomirë pledged his fealty to Gil-galad and also went to Lindon to serve him. During his long years of service, he has grown close to the King and become a trusted advisor.

He has been sent with Elrond and a large troop of 500 Elven warriors from Lindon to assist the Elves in Eregion against the onslaught of Sauron. Ondomirë is the Captain of the Bowmen company comprised of 200 archers. At Gil-galad’s request, he serves as Elrond’s close advisor on this campaign.

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

Envinyatar's post

Autumn/SA 1695

It was late in the second day of the council. The sense of urgency had not diminished, nor had the anger. ‘The King counseled the fools,’ murmured Ondomirë to himself, his head shaking at the news that Morgoth’s captain, Sauron, had at last revealed himself. ‘Annatar, he called himself. Lord of Gifts! Pah! Even now the name brings a taste of soured bile to my tongue. Were they so eager for his knowledge that they forgot the hard lessons Fëanor brought upon us?’

Many, many years had passed since the tall, fair-faced Annatar had come to Lindon, offering to teach his skills to the Elves dwelling in the High King’s lands. He’d been sent away then by Gil-galad; his offers to show how Endor, Middle-earth, might be made as fair and lasting as Valinor rejected. Since then, it was told, he had insinuated himself into one of the Elven guilds in Eregion. Teaching them his glamoured skills. And now, dread Wolf that he was, he had pounced on his prey as it contrived to oppose him. His retribution would be swift and overwhelming. Death, and worse, would come to the Elves of Eregion, to their cities, their lands. Sauron’s armies would sweep west over the King’s lands until he and his dark army stood at the borders of Lindon itself.

‘And what does he seek, I wonder?’ asked Ondomirë to himself. ‘He and his Lord always hated the Elves. But reports from Ost-in-Edhil and from Lorien imply there is more than just the wish to subdue the Elven peoples. What have the Mirdain done . . . what has the House of Fëanor done now?’

Ondomirë sat back in his chair, his eyes on Gil-galad at the head of the table as he spoke with various of his trusted captains. He could see the beard of Cirdan as the Elf stroked it, teasing hard answers from it, it seemed, with the thoughtful movements of his fingers. The bright golden hair of Glorfindel gleamed in light thrown from the jeweled lamps. His head moving in ‘yays’ or ‘nays’ as they spoke. And Elrond, his dark grey eyes thoughtful, bent over the map of Eriador, as he traced a route from The Havens to The Hithaeglir, the Misty Mountains.

A frown creased Ondomirë’s brow as he watched Cirdan and Glorfindel deferring to what Elrond was saying. The King, too, nodded his head and clapped Elrond on his shoulder. Ondomirë looked up as the King stood, announcing to the room in general now that troops would be sent to aid Celebrimbor and his people in Ost-in-Edhil. And that Lord Elrond would lead them.

‘Now that is an interesting move,’ commented Ondomirë, loud enough for the Elf to his left to hear him. ‘The King has passed over Cirdan and Glorfindel, both more seasoned than Elrond, and chosen the younger Elf to lead his troops for this battle. Why is that I wonder?’ Brows raised, he glanced at the Elf who was now listening to his out-loud ponderings. In the meantime, the King had called for volunteers to lead the various divisions of Elves he would be sending.

His eyes narrowing as he wondered at Gil-galad’s choice, Ondomirë stood, saying he would gather and captain the archers if it were so wished. ‘Best we give the stripling all the support we can, don’t you think?’ he said quietly as he sat back down.

[piosenniel]

Kath

Good Orc bio!

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

Envinyatar

Good character!

~*~ Pio

[Folwren]

Could I add to my bio that Bror is appreciative of music and has begun to learn how to play the harp? In at least The Hobbit it says that there was music in the halls under the Lonely Moutain, and then Gimli sings in Moria...so it wouldn't be very much out of place is Bror liked it. I had meant to make it so originially, but so many different things drove it out of my mind that day and since then, I've been hesitant to change anything.

[piosenniel]

You can edit your BIO at any time - but just put a post on this thread telling me that you did so.

Thanks!

~*~ Pio

[Folwren]

Piosenniel, I have added something to my bio. Not much, but you wanted to be told if anything was changed.

-Folwren

[piosenniel]

Thanks for the heads-up, Folwren! I've edited the character bio on the game's discussion thread (HERE).

~*~ Pio

[Amanaduial the archer]

The bios are looking lovely

Just a note to once again apologise (because that's what I do) and to say that my bio of a female elf of Eregion (a craftsperson) will probably be up some time later on today.

Thanks