ATM II Planning/Discussion Thread

[piosenniel]

The purpose of this thread at present is to tweak the proposal for the Assigned to Mordor II RPG submitted by Feanor of the Peredhil.

Only these writers are to post to the thread at present:

• Feanor of the Peredhil
• Piosenniel
• Child of the 7th Age
• All gamers who have been OK'd by Fea to play in this game

All other posts will be deleted at the discretion of the moderator


Mod for this RPG will be: Pio.


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

Once this game is completed, these gamers will be put on the Rohan Players list:

Eomer of the Rohirrim
Formendacil
Hookbill the Goomba
Lhunardarwen

[piosenniel]

Historical Background:

It is Fourth Age 651. A year has passed since the Anakronism Dweomer allowed a selected group of individuals to fight their way through many obstacles [such as constant annoyances, minor disturbances, tests, and the occasional bit of mortal peril] to escape Mordor.

Those who succeeded now live with considerable fame and fortune. With memories of their lives and trials in Mordor often successfully repressed the former Offending Party concentrates on other tasks. Yet Mordor remains.

As the politics of Gondor become more and more uneasy, Assignations to Mordor have become more and more unpredictable. As approval rates for Mardil II of Gondor rise, the power of the King's Law to keep Assignees inside of Mordor wanes. As Mardil remains unwilling to work for the Blue Wizards, their temperament affects all of Mordor, as well as the people inhabiting it. It seems inevitable that all of Mordor will break loose of the hold of the weakening Dweomer. Roggie of Morgoth, the unsteady ruler of the uncertain land, grows worried daily over how he will keep his subjects within his borders without the help of the King's Law and with the growing unpredictability of the Dweomer. He believes that Mardil is to blame.

[piosenniel]

Basic Storyline:

As the King’s Law weakens, the Dweomer becomes more and more unpredictable, and Roggie’s subjects emigrate to Gondor, the political situation is rocky. Several ambassadors must negotiate peace between the countries.

----------

Additional note:

Apart from precarious treaty negotiations between Gondor and Mordor, the Ambassadors between the two countries must deal with anachronisms, treachery, and whatever surprises that the Spymaster uncovers.

[piosenniel]

The purpose of the story is:

For the political situations in Gondor and Mordor to stabilize.

This means we will know the story is over when:

A treaty is signed and the Blue Wizards and their cronies have been dealt with.

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

Starting Location: Mount Doom

Likely destination: Mount Doom or Minas Tirith

[piosenniel]

Timeframes:

This game takes place in the 4th Age at around year 651.

The storyline itself or plot covers several weeks (a summer, perhaps) and will follow a format of week long (game time) “chapters”

This game requires a time commitment of from me, the game owner and from the major players which will most likely vary, depending on players schedules and any subplots thrown into the mix.

[piosenniel]

PLAYER/CHARACTER LIST

Feanor of the Peredhil - Alli Umfuil of Minas Tirith and Mount Doom; Spymaster

JennyHallu - Lola Martinet, aka 'Ms. Martinet'; Second in Command to Alli Umfuil

~*~

MORDOR

Ambassadors

• 1.) Lhunardarwen - Maikaelwen
• 2.) Hookbill the Goomba - Smilog, the Dwarf
• 3.) Kath - Igör
• 4.) Diamond18 - Skittles MacFarlewyn, aka Skitt and Les (real name - Nancy)

~*~

GONDOR

King

• the phantom - Mardil II

Ambassadors

• 1.) Anguirel - Lord Dracomir Malfoidacil of Gondor (aka Master Tom Felton)
• 2.) Formendacil - Hyarmenwë son of Hyarmendil
• 3.) the guy who be short - Angawen Tupsë
• 4.) Boromir88 - Bearugard II

~*~

Cameo Characters:

• littlemanpoet - Anakron Istkon Vayor
• Celuien - Panakeia
• Eomer of the Rohirrim - Aimè the Hunter

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

No Elvish characters, please, per RPG proposer's request

[piosenniel]

The game owner will play 1 main character and 2 Cameos.

1.) Feanor of the Peredhil’s Main Character

NAME: Alli Umfuil of Minas Tirith and Mount Doom

AGE: 19

RACE: Human

GENDER: Female

WEAPONS: Deau ex Machina, irresistible flirting skills, razor sharp dagger

APPEARANCE: Alli is 5’7” and slender. She has finally grown comfortable in her attractive and lean body and walks with a quick grace suited both to forests and the halls of kings. Her hair is black and ranges from mussed to appropriately fashioned for the company of nobles. She occasionally wears the styles for the wrong occasions simply to annoy. Her piercing eyes are an interesting blend of colors that lazy people oft term “grey”, though they are mostly blue, containing flecks of gold, brown, and many other tones of that variety. She mostly wears rangers’ garb, but knows how to dress appropriately for her work in palaces.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Alli has been hurt many times in her life and is open with her thoughts with a very limited number of beings: the king of Mordor, her friend Sai, Aime the Hunter, and Illamatar. She will lie without a moment’s hesitation and straight faced, and has better developed the skill since her first encounters with Mardil II of Gondor. She spends less time than of old wallowing in self pity, choosing now to keep herself occupied with Seeing, negotiating, hunting werewolves, and manipulating people into signing treaties when more ethical negotiation attempts fail. As the king’s spymaster, she is well suited. She is in the process of learning to delegate responsibilities.

HISTORY: Assigned to Mordor at 18 for anakronistically criticizing the government of Gondor, Alli worked as a balrog-winger for quite a while until, unexpectedly, she was granted the opportunity to escape from the place. Though at first she could not wait to return to her waiting family, Alli developed strong ties to Mordor and her former companions and now resides hidden in the borderlands. In the year following her allowed removal from the land, she acquired a small (and possibly illegal) bit of land in Ithilien but was given the job of king’s spymaster in Mordor and moved into the palace instead. She travels regularly and always wishes for her quiet home where she spends her hours pouring over maps, lore-books, and volumes of lupine psychology.

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


2.) CAMEO

NAME: Roggie of Morgoth

AGE: uncertain

RACE: Maiar, specifically Balrog

GENDER: male

WEAPONS: flaming whip, scimitar, carcinogenic body that can either burn or cause no effect whatsoever with no respect for continuity, and with a little bit of terror.

APPEARANCE: Tall enough to require vaulted ceilings in his castle (the renovated Mount Doom Casino and Resort, now call the Mount Doom Palace and Casino), occasionally flaming, though usually just smoldering, often clad as a pirate with a superfluous eye patch and a much needed peg leg replacing that which King Mardil of Gondor once shot off during a tank chase in the bowels of Lundun. He casts a bit of a scary image, what with being a balrog and all, though it is a bit tempered by the pirate paraphernalia. His most appealing feature is his eyes, lined heavily with black kohl. Utterly wingless as of a year ago when one small Italian plumber werewolf named Mario stole those that Alli, in her former job as Balrog-Winger, had expertly given him.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Roggie is generally very calm and collected, though his temper is notorious. He listens to very few people and his best friend Alli Umfuil is one of them. He holds grudges. Roggie of Morgoth was an aspiring actor before the events of ATMI thrust him into the position of ruler of Mordor. Now he questions his ability to hold onto his kingdom which makes him consistently irritable. He often over-reacts when it comes to anything Gondorian.

HISTORY: Roggie once worked for Melkor Morgoth in a position much like that of a slave wherein he was given the suffix for his name as well as a very low self-image. Escaping the fate of Morgoth, Roggie took up his abode in Moria for just long enough to realize that his companion, Bill, was a huge wimp that could be beat up by ancient men with sticks. Roggie shifted his attention elsewhere, mainly Mordor. He relocated his home to take up his long desired acting career and was told after his first audition that his lips were too thin, his eyes not dark enough, and he needed wings before he could get any decent roles.

Very quickly he found a Balrog-Winging agency and paid a hefty amount for their services. The winger on duty that morning was none other than Alli Umfuil and they formed a fast friendship. A year and no acting jobs later, Roggie’s wings were stolen by the werewolf Mario and Roggie sought for Alli to help him regain them.

Though she did not, Roggie was caught up in her elaborate escape from Mordor wherein he lost a leg, developed a very bitter rivalry with Mardil, formed a pretty darned good friendship with Sai Onara, and gained control of the country.

A year later, he runs his country with Alli as his official spymaster.


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


3.) CAMEO

NAME: Illamatar

AGE: eternal

RACE: Supreme Diety

GENDER: questionable, though encourages the pronoun “He”

WEAPONS: deau ex machina

APPEARANCE: though he is able to change appearance at will and may appear differently to many present in one situation, he favors a guise somewhat reminiscent of a long-necked, deep-eyed, bleating quadruped. Occasionally prefers invisibility.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Omnipotent, but likes to watch mortals struggle. After all, omnipotence and eternal life get boring. Still, there are times that he considers the action of the world to be similar to an obnoxious commercial playing during an excellent film and feels the need to hit fast-forward, or at the very least record the commercial, upload it onto his Mac, and digitally manipulate it into something far more interesting.

HISTORY: In the beginning, there was the void, a depressing abyss, and Eru was in it and was of it and was, indeed, it. He looked introspectively and complexly both out and in at this void and discovered that, being the void, he was watching himself watch himself. This turn of phrase fascinated him for quite some time before he desired a new plaything… a most dangerous plaything…

He created a group of angelic beings and started a band. His plaything was his baton and it occasionally flew from his divine grasp to hit members of the brass section. It was through this sort of accident that one of his musicians developed a severe mental disorder and decided to ruin all of band’s music before running off to try and take over the world. A few things happened between then and now, but none of them were particularly important. He created both heaven and Middle Earth and his musicians complained that they couldn’t see any of it, so he lit the whole thing up with some glow-in-the-dark stars, threw in some plants and animals, and eventually added some people, just for the fun of it. More importantly though, he was enjoying the performances of his truly kickin’ band.

So it was that Middle Earth got on quite well by itself for a good long aeon or two with only a few truly serious disasters. Once Eru sneezed in the middle of a really smashing metal song and a fairly unimportant island was destroyed, but he barely noticed.

Really, it wasn’t up until his musicians stopped having talent and started trying to compensate with a lack of clothing that he actually noticed this Middle Earth that he had created. He glanced quickly, seeing everything, and noticed that two of his band members (second chairs, both of them) had snuck off and gotten the place into a bit of a mess involving another Age. He also spotted a few werewolves running around and decided that he’d been lax enough and needed to help these people just a little since he’d given them the free will to do what they wanted and so, since it was his gift, the results were consequently his fault.

He appeared to a young Gondorian girl living in Mordor in a dream, taking the form of a llama, and so it was that the folk of Middle Earth began to call him Illamatar. He spoke to her in her sleep, giving her information about those in her vicinity, telling her their secrets. Voyeuristic though it may be, he didn’t mind. After all, he was Eru Illamatar, and this was more interesting that Maia Television or Vala Hits One. He fast grew addicted to this anakronistic werewolf game and began to pay far closer attention to the goings on of Middle Earth.

So it was that he would come when Alli Umfuil (for that was the name of she that he came to) called, for he learned that she tended to provide amusement, if only for how miserably her efforts proved to work out for her. He provided her with dreams even after she was appointed the position of spymaster, deciding that this was more interesting than watching his angels lip-synch and dance on infinitely large stages in provocative ways.

[piosenniel]

FIRST POST for the game

“You’ll never prove anything.” He spat in her face, his thin, pale lips parting to reveal yellowed teeth. His sour breath made her stomach turn, but outwardly she was serene, her bright grey eyes unusually cold and calculating. Wiping the saliva from her cheek, she patted him condescendingly on the head with her wet hand.

“You’ve forgotten where we are. I don't need to prove anything to anybody. This is Mordor. Habeas corpus doesn’t apply.” Alli Umfuil, escaped prisoner of Mordor and newly instated spymaster of the king looked down at her desk and the heaps of paper thereupon as the sounds of desperate screams echoed down the dark and foreboding hall through which the unlucky prisoner was now being dragged. She was not about to explain to the man that, as spymaster of the king and confidante of Illamatar, she had access to the sort of information that he’d never in his wildest dreams imagine. With one night’s unsettled sleep, she’d spotted the felon even as he lurked in the shadows of his favorite haunt. The king was unhappy with the rate of unsolved murders in the back allies behind his palace… bad for the tourist industry, as it were. Alli had found the killer and sent her own team of guards to capture him before he could strike again. She knew that criminals must be watched, preferably stopped, but she’d inspected the dungeons of Mount Doom Palace and Casino and found herself pitying those trapped therein.

She poured a basin of water, scrubbing the remnants of spit from her pale hand. She kept her stomach muscles tight, willing herself not to gag as she splashed cold water upon her face as well. Patting her pearly skin dry, she answered the light knock on the extremely large set of double doors into her office. The torchlight cut through the darkness to illuminate shackles on the walls… the former spymaster had had a flair for the dramatic before his yet unsolved death.

“Yeah!” she called by way of invitation. The doors opened and the king entered, his peg-leg clicking on the flagstones. He ducked through the doors, standing fully once inside, the cathedral ceiling accommodating his bulk.

“Roggie,” she greeted with a tired smile and a bow. “What can I do for you?”

“I see you’ve captured the killer.” She nodded, sitting down behind her desk and absent-mindedly sorting papers that her secretary had forwarded to her into ‘look at immediately,’ ‘consider taking a peek at later,’ and ‘conveniently lose in the fireplace.’

“He wasn’t much trouble… injured one of my men, but it wasn’t much… certainly not enough to send him to be checked out by incompetent nurses. I told him to stay off that leg for a few days. Sent him on vacation. I owed him a few days for the extra time he put in to help me set up my contacts. He knows a lot… I’m not sure how comfortable I am with his knowledge of my network. I mean, he only knows the contacts I chose to be my findables… If they’re caught, no biggie. They’ll be helpful in the mean time, you know?”

Roggie sat on the floor, his legs stretched before him, his body comfortably heating the otherwise cold room, his faint burning glow illuminating the chamber with soft red light. It was imprudent to have a wooden castle with a balrogic king, but Alli got cold easily with the inescapable stonework. She was always happy to have Roggie of Morgoth in her presence, both for physical warmth and the ability to share that which plagued her mind.

“I’m not over-working you, am I, Alli?” he growled concernedly. He looked menacing with his patched-eye and combustible body. Alli reached casually behind her and pushed her window open to let the early summer breeze come through; the room was getting a little smoky and her eyes were beginning to water. She glanced around the area outside her office before continuing, trusting in her privacy precautions to keep their conversation away from the ears of strangers.

“Of course not, Rogs. It’s just… well… I’ve not seen Aimè in weeks and I know that there are at least two werewolves still out there, and the wizards have been causing all kinds of trouble…”

“Actually, you’ve just named why I stopped.”

“Aww, not just to visit with your best pal?” she teased lightly.

“You know I like to visit with you but-“ he stopped, seeing her laugh. “Anyhow… I received a letter from the wizards today. The gist of it was that if I can’t get Mardil to stop being such an arrogant” Alli laughed at Roggie’s impolite phrasing of Mardil II of Gondor’s personality. “Basically, if I can’t work out some sort of something getting Mardil to agree to a few concessions, they’re going to rework the Dweomer into something, to quote them, “far more ominous than mere words can describe!!!!”. Yeah, Alli… they actually used four exclamation points. The darndest thing, really.”

“So what are you going to do?” Her papers were forgotten. She looked across her desk at her friend, their eyes nearly level with him seated on the floor.

“Nothing.” he said.

“So you’re going to let the wizards… do whatever it is they’re going to do?”

“I’m not groveling to that egotist. If it weren’t for him, I’d have both legs still. If it weren't for him, this country would be a lot easier to run and you know it. Just because he felt the need to seize control of Gondor doesn’t mean he has control of Mordor.”

“Oh, Rog, I… I meant to tell you… the King’s Law is weakening ever since Mardil seized power. Every border guard I’ve got’s been sending reports on it. Mardil actually… well… he really kind of does have control. The more power he gets, the less power the spells have to keep your borders closed and your people here.”

“I spotted that illegal emigration is at an all-time high…”

“Yeah, well… it’s Mardil’s fault. If he’d just work something out with the wizards, but he’ll never do it. You know how he is with people telling him what to do.”

Roggie sighed, laying back on the formerly cool stone floor. “Alli, how am I supposed to run this place with my people leaving and a pair of crackpot old Istari changing the rules any time we get them figured out? They’re pressuring me to treat with Mardil and quite frankly, I don’t want to.”

“I’ll do it.”

“What?” Roggie sat up, shocked. “But… even after—“

“Roggie, it’s been a year and he's married now anyhow. And I’m your top advisor. Surely I ought to be living up to my job by doing the things that you can't and telling you when to let me?

"You sure as heck can’t travel to Gondor and work out negotiations with Mardil. Even if you could just up and leave your responsibilities, the Dweomer still has you and nearly every one of your staff members trapped here. I’m better suited for the travel, I’ve got contacts in his palace as well… If you’ll lend me some ambassadors, I can get this worked out in no time flat. Just give me permission, Roggie, and I'll go to Gondor.

"I've been granted the right to freely come and go. I can ride out, convince Mardil to send some diplomats, and we'll all treat here. It will be easy enough for me to do and downright impossible for almost anybody else.”

The king stood, bowing low to his friend. His good eye looked teary, but Alli ignored it politely as good friends sometimes must.

After a short time of visiting, Roggie left, the enormous doors closing behind him with a tiny click disproportionate to their size. Alli looked at her desk again, tears now in her eyes. Why had she offered? She’d never particularly wanted to see Mardil again… now she would be forced to deal with him and knowing his mind for strategy, he'd invite his wife along for the discussions.

Yes, she loved her job… she loved to know things, and having the best job in the kingdom for somebody that likes to find things out kept her content. But negotiating a treaty with Mardil?

She pitied the ambassadors that got between them all.

Unwilling to get out of the comfortable chair it had taken her seven days of combing Roggie’s castle for, Alli called loudly for her secretary. The woman stepped from the shadows near the door, looking severe with her half-moon spectacles and neat chignon.

“Ms. Martinet,” Alli said. “You listened? Of course… I needn’t ask. I did a good day’s work when I recruited you for this job.

"The king will provide you with a list of names shortly. They are the ambassadors he'll have chosen. I’m riding out this afternoon to treat with King Mardil; no need for you to worry about anything on that end. I’ll get names and information on everybody that he picks to accompany me back and brief you on my return.

"We’ll need suites for them, of course, and private chambers for them all to work in… all of the amenities. And every second they’re in Mordor, I want to know who is doing what, when, and with whom. You know the drill. I'll want logistics taken care of while I'm gone. You'll have about a week before I'm back with Mardil's cronies and we can get this mess fixed.”

“Yes, Miss Umfuil.” Ms. Martinet finished scratching the details of her orders on a yellow legal pad and disappeared once more.

Reflecting, if she’d known it, King Theoden of Rohan (may he rest in peace) upon the brink of battle so long ago, Alli, with her head cradled in her long fingers, muttered softly to herself… “So it begins.”

[piosenniel]

JennyHallu's character:


Name: Lola Martinet, aka 'Ms. Martinet'

Age: 27

Race: Human

Gender: Female

Weapons: Wit and an acerbic tongue, also, and subject to approval, a set of weaponized ballpoint pens in blue and black ink.

Personality/Appearance/All that Jazz: Lola Martinet is perverse, contrary, sly, and gets intense satisfaction out of irritating people. This, combined with a delightfully unorthodox profession, has given her the perfect excuse to create two separate personas, so incredibly different that only a few people have ever managed to connect the two (even as fraternal twins, separated at birth and raised by wild animals and orcs, respectively). Only Alli is aware that her second-in-command is, in fact, perfectly sane.

By day, Ms. Martinet rules the roost at Alli's office. To anyone but her employer she is the secretary from hell. She has perfected bureaucracy into a fine art, developing multiple forms (each to be filed in triplicate) for simple tasks, and delights in filling each out with slightly different information in order to crow over the chaos further down the line. She works on her manicure on busy days, intentionally misdirects callers and visitors, chews bubble gum loudly during conversations, and, when asked to take minutes of sensitive meetings, stares fixedly at a spot in the center of the speaker's forehead, never glancing down at her notebook. For Alli, however, she is quick and efficient, with no delays or complaints. She looks mousy, dresses in dull browns and tans, and glares at people over the rims of half-moon glasses. Her hair is always a tight damp knot of indeterminate color, and her nails the only part of her body to be perpetually perfectly groomed. She plays progressive jazz in the office (you know, the sort with a three-drink minimum) and is always the only person to understand it, much less enjoy it.

By night, sexy, voluptuous Lola is every man's dream. Her blond hair is always perfectly crimped and coiffed, and she dresses in clothes and styles designed to accentuate her curvaceous body (her favorite is a red sequined minidress). She sings her beloved jazz in a nightclub in Mordor--that is, when she isn't completing daring and dangerous missions with Alli in the dead of night. Her starry, near violet eyes make men believe she is promising the moon. She isn't. (Even when she glances up at them coyly through her thick dark lashes.) She is a flirt, a maneater, and a heartbreaker, and delights in it.

History: Lola grew up a prim, proper, and inhibited young lady in Gondor, but was assigned to Mordor when her classical harp music suddenly gained some rather odd chords. She only half-heartedly worked to be able to leave, as she found she loved the chaos and confusion of life in Mordor...it played right into her perfectly manicured hands.

[piosenniel]

GONDOR

the phantom's character


NAME: Mardil II

AGE: 24

RACE: Human

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.): Mardil loves weapons. Now that he is King and no longer resides in Mordor, he doesn't go everywhere heavily armed. He does, however, have a few throwing knives on him at all times (and a few poisons), and is girt with Anduril, which his wife stole from Minas Tirith before she ran away to join Mardil in Ithilien.

APPEARANCE: Mardil has a lean athletic build with a height slightly less than the average Gondorian. He has blue eyes, and long, dirty-blonde hair.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: (No half-Elven characters. No mixed-type characters. No super-heroes. No assasins. No one all powerful, martial arts proficient, or having any magical traits. Just regular characters with normal abilities for their races only.): Mardil II bears himself in a very kingly fashion. Some think of him as arrogant, while others think of him as dignified and regal. He tries not to be condescending, but despite his efforts he comes across as such at times because he believes that his judgment is usually the best and his thoughts the most accurate. In his defense, he is indeed very intelligent and more wise than you would expect from a man of his age.

Mardil used to be scared to do things because he was afraid to fail, but he has overcome this problem for the most part, thanks to his sense of duty. He takes the responsibility of being King seriously, and does what he can for the good of Gondor.

When forced into a fight, Mardil II will not hesitate to cheat to win. Mardil II not only has every reason to live, but also dislikes being injured in any way, and so likes to end fights quickly and unfairly so as to avoid death or discomfort. In his defense, Mardil doesn't walk around picking fights, and so when a fight happens it is nearly always the other who caused it. Since being out of Mordor, though, fights are very rare. His guards take care of any who wish to harm Mardil.

Also, Mardil is no longer a womanizer the way he was in Mordor. He's married now, but you'll find out more about that later.

Mardil has a very persuasive tongue and can be very charming, and people who spend much time in his company find it hard to disagree with or dislike him. He can also be very straight forward and candid, especially behind closed doors. He doesn't try to compromise with people. Instead, he speaks his mind and attempts to show precisely why people should agree with his position.

HISTORY: Mardil II was born to Denethor IV, the Prince of Ithilien and Steward of Gondor. He has a younger brother and sister, and a wife, Morwen, daughter of the former King of Gondor who still sits in Minas Tirith, Aranar.

The kingdom of Gondor had been in decline for some time when Mardil II's grandfather, Ecthelion IV was born. Ecthelion was a great orator, and very ambitious. During his years as Steward and Prince he did all he could to gain political power in the Kingdom.

Though he never did it publicly, he spread rumors about the King, about how all of the problems throughout Gondor were his fault. After a while, there began to be a small faction called "The Steward's Men" who were more loyal to the Steward than to the King.

The King was not blind to any of these developments, but he could not do much about it, because the people of Gondor, even those who were not Steward's Men, loved Ecthelion greatly. He had a way with people, as do all great politicians.

His son, Denethor IV, was also greatly beloved. In his early years he served in the army and navy, and won many glorious victories. When he returned from the field to take his position as the Steward, he soon proved that he had inherited his father's ability to speak and win people over to his side. He was also a brilliant economist, and invested his wealth in strategic places- places that would earn him power. By the time his son, Mardil II, was born, the Steward wielded King-like authority over his own province, Ithilien, and had influence nearly equal to that of the King over the lands to the East and South.

Not surprisingly, the sitting King, Aranar, was rather disturbed when his rival, the Steward, named his son Mardil II, after Mardil, the first steward to rule Gondor. And so, the King began plotting how to rid himself of the whole Steward problem.

First, he began a campaign of rumors against the Steward, attempting to lay most of the blame for various misfortunes at his feet. This never worked too well, but it did win some of the masses to his side. He also started a secret army that disguised itself as raiders from the East and attacked shipments and stole cargo headed to and from Denethor and his friends in Ithilien, thus loosening some of the economic hold he had on several organizations. After the winds of power and opinion began to blow against the Steward, the King decided he had enough control over his Kingdom to get rid of the Steward's lone heir and not cause a civil war. At this time, Mardil was eighteen and in Minas Tirith studying at the royal university.

The night after the King had finished making plans to banish young Mardil II to Mordor, he went walking in the palace garden and caught his daughter, Morwen, and Mardil making out in one of the fountains. The enraged King called for the guards and accused Mardil of doing this simply to spite him, but in fact Mardil and the King's daughter had long been in love, but could not be so publicly because of the hatred King Aranar bore Mardil and his family.

After his daughter begged and pleaded, the King agreed not to have the guards kill Mardil on the spot, but nothing she could say could stop the King from exiling Mardil to Mordor, which was as good as a death sentence, because no one ever returned from Mordor unless the King wanted.

Two years after arriving in Mordor, Mardil received news that Morwen had been married to a Prince from Dol Amroth. The report was not true, but Mardil believed it (Mardil was prone to pessimism), and his behavior and character took a rather large turn for the worst. But after five years of exile, Anakron, who had long believed that Mardil II was destined to become King, took it into his own hands to rig the machine that produced candidates for the Escape From Mordor. During the escape, Mardil was forced to complete challenges and work with others, and many of his better traits began to emerge once again.

In the end, the two Blue Istari demanded that Mardil II subject himself to their authority and rule Gondor under them, but Mardil refused. Mardil saw their desire to rule a realm that was not theirs (and the threatening way that they went about it) as a sign that they were very much like their fellow Wizard Saruman.

The Blue Istari attempted to foil Mardil's return to Gondor, but Mardil was transported to the far away Shire by some unknown means. Upon his return to Gondor, he found that the hearts of the population of Gondor were largely turned to him. They had all heard about his words and deeds during the entire Escape From Mordor, and were won over by his charming personality, brave deeds, and especially his loyalty to his kingdom in the face of the Blue Istari.

When the people of Gondor then found out that Mardil II had been wrongfully sent to Mordor by King Aranar, their loyalty went completely over to Mardil, especially when he was joined in Ithilien by Morwen, who escaped from Minas Tirith bearing Anduril, which she stole from her father. Morwen and Mardil were wed a few short months later.

[piosenniel]

GONDOR

Formendacil's character

NAME: Hyarmenwë son of Hyarmendil

AGE: 71

RACE: Dúnedain of Gondor

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: Sword

APPEARANCE: Typically Dúnedainic in appearance: tall, silver-haired, with a regal, thin face, a slightly hooked nose, and rather bushy eyebrows. Cleanshaven, with a proud, straight, almost military, bearing. Generally serious in mien.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Hyarmenwë can be summed up in the word "haughty". He may think of himself as a good man, and can be fairly kind towards youth or fools, he, nonetheless, sees the world through the very tinted glasses of noble birth. A nationalist in his world view, he sees Gondor as the greatest nation in the world, an almost "Chosen People". He is absolutely loyal to the House of Telcontar, and can be very narrowminded towards all else.

HISTORY: As pureblooded a Dúnedan as one can be in the mid-Fourth Age, Hyarmenwë comes of a very noble family of Minas Tirith, claiming direct descent from Húrin, Warden of the Keys, whose title he holds himself, as well as kinship with the Line of the Stewards and the Kings of Gondor. As a young man, he served in campaigns in Far Harad, and became Keeper of the Keys after the death of his father Hyarmendil. Although advancing a great deal in age, he remains hale thus far. He has not used a blade in years, but could probably be expected to wield it respectably, were he to need to.

[piosenniel]

GONDOR

the guy who be short's character

NAME: Angawen Tupsë

AGE: 31

RACE: Men (Numenorean / Gondorian)

GENDER: Female

WEAPONS: A sharp brain and a honeyed tongue. A small vial of poison carried at all times in her cloak. And her bodyguards, of course.

APPEARANCE: To say she is striking would probably not convey her true nature, as striking seems to have an element of soft perfection in it. She is attractive, but with a hard quality about her, possibly due to her high cheek bones and pale skin. Her hair is blonde, her eyes brown, her mouth downturned in a not unpleasant way. She is tall and commanding, and dresses well, in colours that complement her.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: She is a shrewd and selfish person - above all else, she cares for her own self-promotion. This is both the great strength and weakness of her character. She does not jest, but is rather an austere figure of authority who takes her work and herself very seriously. Though in the frail body of a woman, she has the stomach of a man - two men, in fact, and the rest of their bodies as well, for her protection.

HISTORY: It is uncommon to find a woman of high rank in Gondor. Angawen can thus be typified; she is incredibly uncommon.

Wed at a young age to a man of importance in the law business, an advisor/judge of sorts, in the Kingdom, she lived with him for many of her years, cared for him, but bore him no children. Every great man has a woman to drive him forward, they say, and certainly this was the case with Angawen's husband. She was privy to all the secrets of his profession and his life, for he loved and trusted her. Furthermore, he knew her intellect to be formidable, and would consult her often for her thoughts.

He had died in mysterious circumstances (of which she played a significant part). And, as his wife, she knew all that he had known when he was an honourable citizen of Gondor, so she was accepted and inaugarated as an advisor for the king in his stead for the case they had been settling at the time - a disputed assignation, almost ironically. Her ability to discern fact from fiction had so impressed the King that she had been allowed to stay on, against protocol, as one of his advisors.

With the coming on Mardil, she had shown her ruthless ambition in her willingness to desert the former monarch and embrace the newcomer. He had allowed her to keep her rôle, and indeed, been impressed by her in his turn, to the point of sending her to Mordor to represent his will.

[piosenniel]

GONDOR

Anguirel's character

NAME: The Lord Dracomir Malfoidacil of Gondor, son of the Lord Luciamir Malfoidacil. Also known in the anakronistic tongue as one Master Tom Felton.

AGE: 18, or 15, or 16 (Real Life, Film, or Book)

RACE: Human and secretly Pureblood Wizard

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: The Lord Dracomir has been known to wield a strange and deadly device known as a Diabolo. He also possesses a wand and a Nimbus Two Thousand And One racing broom. As for what happens at night...well...

APPEARANCE: Pale but rather embarrassingly adorable features. Slicked back white-blond hair. Tall enough for his age. Looks as though he’s making an effort to appear rather more pallid and patrician than he actually is.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: The Lord Dracomir is a cunning schemer and duellist, an excellent flyer, has few equals in Potions (except that Potter boy), and has a grounding in the Dark Arts.

However, Tom Felton is crippled by the inner realisation that he is in fact a gorgeous, pleasant, hair-rufflable cherub with nice manners, not a bigoted murderer. He tries to hide this by over-compensating arrogance and political incorrectness. It rarely works.

HISTORY: Tom Felton used to be a normal, happy, prancing Kensington child. But then he was whisked away by the forces of Hollywood, where he took on the persona of Draco Malfoy and became beloved of millions of raving fangirls. He forgot his old life and became stuck in a rut, and could be found conspiring with Jason Isaacs to destroy Mudbloods.

But the situation got still worse when Harry Potter purists, frustrated by a covetous glance he directed at Emma Watson in a moment of non-focalisation, consigned him to Mordor. Here he encountered none other than Fenrir Greyback, assigned by a Lupin-lover. After a desperate confrontation he managed to escape and stumbled upon his parents, Lucius and Narcissa. An independent lad, though, with a keen interest in night-life, he was wandering in the street when a large and luminous llama appeared, shouted Petrificus Totallus! and stuffed him in a bin-bag.

He was discovered by Alli and Sai, two members of the Offending Party, and took part in their subsequent machinations, including the Dol-in-Gaurgauroth affair. Impressed by his clear ability, when Mardil of Ithilien became King of Gondor he summoned Tom, granting him and his family the title of Lords of Malfoidacil for as long as they served as counsellors. Tom did not wish to refuse, and took the name Dracomir; for after all, the King had been told the plot of Book Seven...

[piosenniel]

GONDOR


Boromir88's character

Name: Bearugard II

Age: 37

Gender: Male

Race: Gondorian

Weapons: A small piercing dagger

Appearance: 6'3", slim build, jet black hair of shoulder length, and hazel eyes. He always wears the best attire, flaunting his fur cloak, and his radiant robs of green and white.

Personality/Strengths/Weaknesses:
Bearugard is very gifted at persuasion and getting what he wants, no matter how it is done. He's always been the type who doesn't care what "means" you have to do, as long as it fulfills the "end" purpose. He will cast around a lot of threats (though many of them are meaningless) and when that doesn't work everyone has a price.

Despite the rich robes and stout look, he really is a daddy's boy and is used to getting what he wants. In all actuality the robes and wealth make him look more powerful than he actually is. For beneath it all he's really just a pathetic, spineless worm.

History:
Bearugard II is the son of Bearugard I and Losandra of Dol Amroth. He is an only child, and because of that, his parents spoiled him and rewarded him with anything that he asked. Losandra had died from an unfortunate accident when Bearugard was just turning 8. One day the family was having chicken for dinner. Losandra had bit into her chicken breast and a tiny bone broke off. It got lodged into her throat and she choked to death.

Bearugard's father (who was a counselor to the Lord of Dol Amroth) grieved deeply for his wife's loss, he would never wed again nor would he eat chicken. Because of his wife's death Bearugard felt like he must protect the only memory of his wife he had left, their son. Bearugard II became more and more spoiled, and because of his father's influence, was appointed as an honorary diplomat of Gondor.

[piosenniel]

MORDOR

Kath's character

NAME: Igör

AGE: With accumulated ages of all the body parts, somewhere in the thousands.

RACE: Human, Orc, Elf, Dwarf, whatever was lying around.

GENDER: Mostly male.

WEAPONS: Carries small knives in little pockets created by sewing extra flaps of skin onto his own body. Can also drown people in spit if he gives into his natural lisping impulse.

APPEARANCE: Around 5’11”, but slouches to create the illusion that he has a hump and so appears a good 5 inches shorter a lot of the time. He moves with a limp, but this is an affectation, and when he needs to move fast he certainly can. His hair is long and dark, he knows it looks a little odd but it was a gift. One eye is bright blue and piercing, the other is red and moves independently, sometimes even turning itself round entirely. He wears a shirt and trousers for modesty, but no shoes as he has a hobbit’s feet.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Igör is very friendly and good-natured and would love it if everyone could just get on. He is unfailingly honest, incapable of lying. This might seem to make him an odd choice for a diplomat, but his truth is absolute, which means he isn’t always saying what people think he is. He has an incredible gift for healing and has been well suited to life in Mordor, what with the strange accidents that happen, or the people that turn up in pieces. He can also move silently and swiftly.

HISTORY: His ‘parents’ were assigned to Mordor long before the records began to be kept properly, so he has no idea why. He was created many years later and has worked in a number of jobs including being a healer in one of the hospitals, assistant to a mad doctor and an Elvis Presley impersonator. He found it hard to keep a job for long though, until he became a diplomat and found that the skills that had frequently got him fired seemed to be a requirement for this job.

[piosenniel]

MORDOR


Diamond18's character

NAME: Skittles MacFarlewyn
(will answer to Skitt and Les, but never to Kit, and never ever to her real name, which is Nancy)

AGE: 21

RACE: Human

GENDER: Female

WEAPONS: Her body is a weapon. Also, she has an endless supply of switchblades with decorative handles.

APPEARANCE: Tall and skinny. Her hair is a mass of tangled black curls, with purple, blue, and emerald green highlights. Her skin is very pale, freakishly so, and tests have shown that she will not tan or burn or even get the slightest shade darker even under long, intensive exposure to sunlight. She once spent seven hours in a tanning booth and didn’t darken a whit (thus winning a bet which entailed the loser having to streak through a church.) She either wears clothes of many bright colors or dresses all in black. The importance of this is covered below.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Skittles does not suffer from insanity, she enjoys every minute of it. She is most often cheerful -- or rather, Morgoth-May-Care -- and there is no predicting what she may do or say. However, she may be provoked into a violent and dangerous mood swing which can last for mere minutes or stretch into days. When this happens she becomes hard, snarky, and switchblade-happy. At times like this she is known to wear black leather and say things like “Do ya feel lucky?”, “Go ahead, make my day,” and “Hasta-la-vista, baby,” as often as she can. She has been known to switch between fancy-free and sinister as many as 60 times per hour. Skittles owns a cat named Hissyfit who accompanies her almost everywhere, unless it is off on its own causing confusion and mass hysteria.

HISTORY: She is a second generation Mordorian -- her parents were Assigned in their youth, both for quoting Shakespeare. After some years they met in an elevator, fell in love, quoted Romeo and Juliet, and decided to get married. This was a foolish thing, since her mother was a psychologist and her father was one of those annoying child rearing experts. Skittles is the demented product of this unholy alliance.

Mr. and Mrs. MacFarlewyn have told Skittles from her earliest youth that she can be whatever she wants to be. Skittles would like to be a tall old oak tree, and there are in fact times when no one can convince her that she is not, and she will stand completely still with her arms outstretched until someone threatens her with an axe, at which time she will do them bodily harm.

How, you may be asking, does such a person become an Ambassador? Wouldn’t she, you may be wondering, be better suited as an assassin or something? Well, you may be right, and she did once kill a man just to watch him die, but her parents were influential members of the community and it was their dream to see Skittles become a high ranking official in the Mordorian government. They pulled strings, greased palms, blackmailed, and made death threats until they secured Skittles the attractive position of Diplomat. She has never been outside Mordor, but this is of little concern to them. Most people deal with her by trying to ignore her, and diverting her attention away from her job onto other things, like pretending she is a tall old oak tree. She can sometimes be convinced to play at diplomacy like it is a role, and since she has a relatively quick mind under her madness, this is not always disastrous.

Skittles, of course, believes that she is completely sane and it is everyone else who is crazy. There is no known medication that has any affect on her -- besides producing a third mood swing and you never, ever want to go there. Trust me.

[piosenniel]

MORDOR

Lhunardawen's character

NAME: Maikaelwen

AGE: 19

RACE: Human

GENDER: Female

WEAPONS: A pacifist through and through, she will have none but words and stern looks. In very desperate times, though, she can wield a disarming smile. This she had never used before, and hopes she will never have to.

APPEARANCE: Definitely older than her age. She is a mere 5'2" but appears an inch taller with her ramrod-straight back. She has long, thick dark hair reaching her mid-back that she constantly keeps in a bun so tight she should not be able to move her eyebrows (yet she can), using two ebony chopsticks. She has a pasty white complexion that quickly turns red upon exposure to heat, and for that reason she always keeps a safe distance between her and Roggie. She wears nothing but black and white.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: She is strong-willed and can get more than a little biting, but she is not entirely unlikeable - if one does his or her best. She is very capable of keeping her emotions at bay, and would have nothing to do with boys, men, whatever they call themselves, other than in a professional level. Or so she thinks.

HISTORY: Born in Gondor to parents who are hopelessly devoid of creativity, Maikaelwen had practically been whisked off to Mordor the moment they came up with the unimaginative nickname for her, by virtue of its commonness. And so another Maika was added to Mordorian population.

But Maika would not let her early assignment go to waste. Quickly learning the ropes of living in the Dark Land, she ranted and glared and raised-eyebrow her way to where she is now. Yet despite loving her life in Mordor, somewhere inside her lies a quiet desire to go back to the place of her birth, and it only needs something to awaken it.

[piosenniel]

MORDOR

Hookbill the Goomba's character

NAME: Smilog

AGE: 690

RACE: Dwarf

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: Axe, knife, helm.

APPEARANCE: A short and rather fat fellow with grey hair and a bright red beard. His eyes are small and shifty, with green pupils. He wears a dark blue tunic over which is a large (maybe too large) black coat buttoned with green buttons. He wears blue boots and a short helm. He has a red face and a grumpy look about him.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Miserable. That’s what most people would say. He grumbles a lot, when not staring into space with a look of anger and regret plastered all over him. He gets angry quickly and tends to have a "Don't touch me" attitude. Only attribute being an unusual intelligence for a dwarf and an unhealthy obsession with anything that goes faster than a horse.

HISTORY: Avoided being assigned to Mordor the first time around by the skin of his teeth. By that, I mean, he hid in a barrel. In his youth he had been rather unpopular and has since taken to a life of being solitary. He only became an advisor to Roggie because no one else would take him on. His parents are said to be 'disappointed'.

Smilog is not well liked, in fact, even the other advisers treat him with contempt, but this he has brought very much on himself, being rude, callas, incredibly short tempered and not a little foolish.

[piosenniel]

CAMEOS


Celuien's character

NAME: Panakeia

AGE: 50

RACE: Human, from Harad

GENDER: Female

WEAPONS: None, really. Great powers of persuasion. Implied threat of bringing the wrath of the Grand Anakronist upon those who cross her, though she has never said such a thing to anyone.

APPEARANCE: Panakeia formerly had bleached blonde hair and overly heavy makeup. Since meeting the Grand Anakronist, however, she has allowed it to return to its natural light brown (streaked with a few gray hairs, to Panakeia's great consternation) shade. Dark blue eyes. She has toned down her makeup as well, though she still tends to wear some. Jewelry remains fairly elaborate, as do her clothes, which are now less garish than they are obviously chic and pricey.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Strengths: Panakeia regained her conscience in ATM I, so she is reasonable nice. Pragmatic, intelligent. Weaknesses: Vanity is still her Achilles Heel. Short-tempered. Demanding at times.

HISTORY: (Mostly copied shamelessly from ATM I) Panakeia was born to a poor family from the borders of Harad upon whom the curse of the Anakronism Dweomer sat heavily, like a lump of gravy on a slice of day-old turkey. Fortunately for them, this particular corner of Middle-earth was far from the ears and eyes of those who enforced the Laws of Gondor which outlawed the use of Anakronisms (or any laws at all, for that matter), so it made little difference to the young Panakeia, who grew up discussing Britney Spears and marketing tactics with her two siblings as if such terms were completely normal for Middle-earth in the Fourth Age.

By Panakeia’s 10th birthday, her family’s fortunes mysteriously changed and they found themselves in possession of a large estate. She grew into a surprisingly attractive young woman with high principles, and by 18 she was the belle of the Harad area. It was also about this time that she discovered the reason for her family’s rags-to-riches story: in a locked attic, Panakeia stumbled on a box of pamphlets advertising cheap garden spot lots. Unfortunately, a quick glance at the map included with the ads would have told anyone who had even a passing acquaintance with geography that the so-called garden spot was located smack in the middle of the Dead Marshes. Worse yet, there was evidence for many other schemes run by her family over the years. Panakeia was horrified and vowed never to join the family business, insisting that there was no offer that they could possibly make her that she would not be able to refuse.

But Fate was working against Panakeia. Shortly afterwards, retribution came upon her family in the form of disgruntled investors from the land scheme. These investors burned her home to the ground, forcing her to flee into the wilderness. In the confusion, she became separated from her relatives, none of whom she would see again. Poor Panakeia wandered in the wild for days, lost and starving. Finally, she located an old potato field, clawed a raw tuber from the earth with her fingernails and devoured it. With a cry to the setting sun of “I’ll never be hungry again,” Panakeia decided to wreak her revenge on those who had ended her fairy-tale existence by restarting her family’s old schemes. After all, if people were foolish enough to fall for her scams, they deserved whatever came to them, didn’t they? She then headed out on the road, selling various health and beauty potions of dubious quality from a roadside stand. Over the years, she became accustomed to her lifestyle and completely forgot her early idealism.

In time, her travels took her to the heart of Gondor itself. Unaware of (or perhaps indifferent to) the banning of Anakronisms, she set up her stand on the road to Minas Tirith and called out “Panakeia’s Beauty Cream! Guaranteed to give you J Lo’s youthful glow, or your money back!” She only had time to make two sales before being whisked off to Mordor by the Anakronism Police.

One year ago, Panakeia was selected as a member of the Grand Anakronist's Offending Party and given a chance to leave Mordor. She completed all tests required to gain her freedom, but chose to remain in Mordor due to a sudden romance with the Grand Anakronist. Since then, she has been involved in a courtship with Anakron, (anakronistically referred to as dating). While quite happy with him, she is annoyed that he has not yet proposed the all-important state of marriage, despite her constant hints that she is ready and eager for such a step, especially given that she is about to turn 51. For that reason, she has started following Anakron on all of his journeys through Mordor, even those for official business, despite the fact that political subjects cause her endless ennui. That is how Panakeia, despite not being politically inclined, arrived at the diplomatic proceedings.

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

littlemanpoet's character


NAME: Anakron Istkon Vayor

AGE: 51

RACE: Umbarian

GENDER: male

WEAPONS : none. except for the Anakron Staff

APPEARANCE: Tall, black robed, austere, high forehead, a black wide-brimmed hat, long white hair, narrow, beardless face. Holds the Anakron Staff, which is made of black metal, and bears the insignia of the Grand Anakronist, a stylized representation of a Siamese Cat, known however to morph into Sylvester.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Austere, authoritative, rhetorical expert, formal. Given the right circumstances, will break out into a doggerel chattering, dancing buffoon in vaudeville style (part of the Anakronism Dweomer).

HISTORY: Elempi of Umbar grew up as a model child in a wealthy (but not ruling) family, was trained from early as a scholar in history, language, and philosophy. He taught in the Academy of Umbar for twenty years until he was handpicked by the retiring Grand Anakronist to replace him. He was given the Anakron Staff, which creates nothing, but directs the latent effects of the Anakronism Dweomer. Has recently developed a fondness for Panakeia, one of the former Offending Party.

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

Eomer of the Rohirrim's character

NAME: Aimé.

AGE: 22.

RACE: Man of Rohan.

GENDER: Male.

WEAPONS: The ability to run away very quickly; a sword (mostly for show); a crossbow; and a high-pitched shriek.

APPEARANCE: Aimé is a little over six feet tall and is thin. He tends to wear shabby clothes: jackets, cloaks. At times, this looks quite fetching in an 'outsider' kind of way. Most of the time, though, he just looks like a mess. He has flowing hair which appears to change colour depending on which way he turns: here dark brown, here golden, here sepia. He has deep blue eyes and an entirely lazy demeanour. He appears sedated most of the time. He has also acquired a black top hat, which he wears nearly all the time.

PERSONALITY: Selfish; cowardly; cynical; uninterested in most other people. But that's on the inside. To other eyes, Aimé appears exceedingly charming. When in the mood, he can be extremely unlikeable to those who get close to him, and this mood takes him often.

STRENGTHS: The ability to make himself appear far more interesting and desirable than he actually is.

WEAKNESSES: Beautiful piano music can reduce him to a weeping wreck. There's also the huge discomfort he gets from simply being around other people. And sharp things like axes, swords and teeth through the skin. Aimé's quite the bleeder.

HISTORY: Aimé was assigned to Mordor a few years previously (by his as-yet-unidentified nemesys), and has grown used to it. He has been sighted far more frequently in recent times: often stealing through the harsh wilderness of the land, or indeed up to who-knows-what in the dark Mordorian nightlife.

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

Feanor of the Peredhil's character


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

[piosenniel]

Players -

Please submit the following bio form for all of your characters:

-----

CHARACTER DESCRIPTION FORM

NAME:

AGE:

RACE:

GENDER:

WEAPONS:

APPEARANCE:

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES:

HISTORY:

--------

No First Posts for the game are required by the proposer.

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

On Mordorian Ambassadors: Players are free to choose characteristcs based on the Assigned to Mordor thread; meaning almost anything goes, but use your discretion wisely. The reason I nixed Elves is because this is 4th Age and there should be a distinct lack of them running around.

On Gondorian Ambassadors: Roles should be as canonical as possible. Keep 'em human, keep 'em believable.

On Cameos and Sides: I've sent that information via PM.

The rest looks good.

[piosenniel]

Any of the gamers whom Fea has OK'd to play in her game

Please post your Character Descriptions to this thread as soon as you can

~*~ Pio

[Hookbill the Goomba]

CHARACTER DESCRIPTION FORM

POSTEDTO THE PROPOSAL ~*~ PIO


MORDOR

Hookbill the Goomba's character

NAME: Smilog -- Mordor

AGE: 690

RACE: Dwarf

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: Axe, knife, helm.

APPEARANCE: A short and rather fat fellow with grey hair and a bright red beard. His eyes are small and shifty, with green pupils. He wears a dark blue tunic over which is a large (maybe too large) black coat buttoned with green buttons. He wears blue boots and a short helm. He has a red face and a grumpy look about him.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Miserable. That’s what most people would say. He grumbles a lot, when not staring into space with a look of anger and regret plastered all over him. He gets angry quickly and tends to have a "Don't touch me" attitude. Only attribute being an unusual intelligence for a dwarf and an unhealthy obsession with anything that goes faster than a horse.

HISTORY: Avoided being assigned to Mordor the first time around by the skin of his teeth. By that, I mean, he hid in a barrel. In his youth he had been rather unpopular and has since taken to a life of being solitary. He only became an advisor to Roggie because no one else would take him on. His parents are said to be 'disappointed'.
Smilog is not well liked, in fact, even the other advisers treat him with contempt, but this he has brought very much on himself, being rude, callas, incredibly short tempered and not a little foolish.

[Formendacil]

CHARACTER DESCRIPTION FORM

MOVED TO PROPOSAL ABOVE ~*~ Pio

GONDOR

Formendacil's character

NAME: Hyarmenwë son of Hyarmendil

AGE: 71

RACE: Dúnedain of Gondor

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: Sword

APPEARANCE: Typically Dúnedainic in appearance: tall, silver-haired, with a regal, thin face, a slightly hooked nose, and rather bushy eyebrows. Cleanshaven, with a proud, straight, almost military, bearing. Generally serious in mien.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Hyarmenwë can be summed up in the word "haughty". He may think of himself as a good man, and can be fairly kind towards youth or fools, he, nonetheless, sees the world through the very tinted glasses of noble birth. A nationalist in his world view, he sees Gondor as the greatest nation in the world, an almost "Chosen People". He is absolutely loyal to the House of Telcontar, and can be very narrowminded towards all else.

HISTORY: As pureblooded a Dúnedan as one can be in the mid-Fourth Age, Hyarmenwë comes of a very noble family of Minas Tirith, claiming direct descent from Húrin, Warden of the Keys, whose title he holds himself, as well as kinship with the Line of the Stewards and the Kings of Gondor. As a young man, he served in campaigns in Far Harad, and became Keeper of the Keys after the death of his father Hyarmendil. Although advancing a great deal in age, he remains hale thus far. He has not used a blade in years, but could probably be expected to wield it respectably, were he to need to.

[Anguirel]

GONDOR

POSTED TO PROPOSAL ~*~ Pio

Anguirel's character

NAME: The Lord Dracomir Malfoidacil of Gondor, son of the Lord Luciamir Malfoidacil. Also known in the anakronistic tongue as one Master Tom Felton.

AGE: 18, or 15, or 16 (Real Life, Film, or Book)

RACE: Human and secretly Pureblood Wizard

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: The Lord Dracomir has been known to wield a strange and deadly device known as a Diabolo. He also possesses a wand and a Nimbus Two Thousand And One racing broom. As for what happens at night...well...

APPEARANCE: Pale but rather embarrassingly adorable features. Slicked back white-blond hair. Tall enough for his age. Looks as though he’s making an effort to appear rather more pallid and patrician than he actually is.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: The Lord Dracomir is a cunning schemer and duellist, an excellent flyer, has few equals in Potions (except that Potter boy), and has a grounding in the Dark Arts.

However, Tom Felton is crippled by the inner realisation that he is in fact a gorgeous, pleasant, hair-rufflable cherub with nice manners, not a bigoted murderer. He tries to hide this by over-compensating arrogance and political incorrectness. It rarely works.

HISTORY: Tom Felton used to be a normal, happy, prancing Kensington child. But then he was whisked away by the forces of Hollywood, where he took on the persona of Draco Malfoy and became beloved of millions of raving fangirls. He forgot his old life and became stuck in a rut, and could be found conspiring with Jason Isaacs to destroy Mudbloods.

But the situation got still worse when Harry Potter purists, frustrated by a covetous glance he directed at Emma Watson in a moment of non-focalisation, consigned him to Mordor. Here he encountered none other than Fenrir Greyback, assigned by a Lupin-lover. After a desperate confrontation he managed to escape and stumbled upon his parents, Lucius and Narcissa. An independent lad, though, with a keen interest in night-life, he was wandering in the street when a large and luminous llama appeared, shouted Petrificus Totallus! and stuffed him in a bin-bag.

He was discovered by Alli and Sai, two members of the Offending Party, and took part in their subsequent machinations, including the Dol-in-Gaurgauroth affair. Impressed by his clear ability, when Mardil of Ithilien became King of Gondor he summoned Tom, granting him and his family the title of Lords of Malfoidacil for as long as they served as counsellors. Tom did not wish to refuse, and took the name Dracomir; for after all, the King had been told the plot of Book Seven...

[Celuien]

CAMEO

PLACED ON PROPOSAL ~*~ Pio

Celuien's character

NAME: Panakeia

AGE: 50

RACE: Human, from Harad

GENDER: Female

WEAPONS: None, really. Great powers of persuasion. Implied threat of bringing the wrath of the Grand Anakronist upon those who cross her, though she has never said such a thing to anyone.

APPEARANCE: Panakeia formerly had bleached blonde hair and overly heavy makeup. Since meeting the Grand Anakronist, however, she has allowed it to return to its natural light brown (streaked with a few gray hairs, to Panakeia's great consternation) shade. Dark blue eyes. She has toned down her makeup as well, though she still tends to wear some. Jewelry remains fairly elaborate, as do her clothes, which are now less garish than they are obviously chic and pricey.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Strengths: Panakeia regained her conscience in ATM I, so she is reasonable nice. Pragmatic, intelligent. Weaknesses: Vanity is still her Achilles Heel. Short-tempered. Demanding at times.

HISTORY: (Mostly copied shamelessly from ATM I) Panakeia was born to a poor family from the borders of Harad upon whom the curse of the Anakronism Dweomer sat heavily, like a lump of gravy on a slice of day-old turkey. Fortunately for them, this particular corner of Middle-earth was far from the ears and eyes of those who enforced the Laws of Gondor which outlawed the use of Anakronisms (or any laws at all, for that matter), so it made little difference to the young Panakeia, who grew up discussing Britney Spears and marketing tactics with her two siblings as if such terms were completely normal for Middle-earth in the Fourth Age.

By Panakeia’s 10th birthday, her family’s fortunes mysteriously changed and they found themselves in possession of a large estate. She grew into a surprisingly attractive young woman with high principles, and by 18 she was the belle of the Harad area. It was also about this time that she discovered the reason for her family’s rags-to-riches story: in a locked attic, Panakeia stumbled on a box of pamphlets advertising cheap garden spot lots. Unfortunately, a quick glance at the map included with the ads would have told anyone who had even a passing acquaintance with geography that the so-called garden spot was located smack in the middle of the Dead Marshes. Worse yet, there was evidence for many other schemes run by her family over the years. Panakeia was horrified and vowed never to join the family business, insisting that there was no offer that they could possibly make her that she would not be able to refuse.

But Fate was working against Panakeia. Shortly afterwards, retribution came upon her family in the form of disgruntled investors from the land scheme. These investors burned her home to the ground, forcing her to flee into the wilderness. In the confusion, she became separated from her relatives, none of whom she would see again. Poor Panakeia wandered in the wild for days, lost and starving. Finally, she located an old potato field, clawed a raw tuber from the earth with her fingernails and devoured it. With a cry to the setting sun of “I’ll never be hungry again,” Panakeia decided to wreak her revenge on those who had ended her fairy-tale existence by restarting her family’s old schemes. After all, if people were foolish enough to fall for her scams, they deserved whatever came to them, didn’t they? She then headed out on the road, selling various health and beauty potions of dubious quality from a roadside stand. Over the years, she became accustomed to her lifestyle and completely forgot her early idealism.

In time, her travels took her to the heart of Gondor itself. Unaware of (or perhaps indifferent to) the banning of Anakronisms, she set up her stand on the road to Minas Tirith and called out “Panakeia’s Beauty Cream! Guaranteed to give you J Lo’s youthful glow, or your money back!” She only had time to make two sales before being whisked off to Mordor by the Anakronism Police.

One year ago, Panakeia was selected as a member of the Grand Anakronist's Offending Party and given a chance to leave Mordor. She completed all tests required to gain her freedom, but chose to remain in Mordor due to a sudden romance with the Grand Anakronist. Since then, she has been involved in a courtship with Anakron, (anakronistically referred to as dating). While quite happy with him, she is annoyed that he has not yet proposed the all-important state of marriage, despite her constant hints that she is ready and eager for such a step, especially given that she is about to turn 51. For that reason, she has started following Anakron on all of his journeys through Mordor, even those for official business, despite the fact that political subjects cause her endless ennui. That is how Panakeia, despite not being politically inclined, arrived at the diplomatic proceedings.

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

Point one: Pio, please add the phantom to the list of those who can post. He will be resuming the role of Mardil II of Gondor.

Kath will be a Mordorian diplomat.

EDIT: DONE & DONE ~*~ Pio

-----

Point two, here is a very excellent write up of the political tension from the Gondor point of view as provided by the phantom.

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

All right, about the set up. Since I am one of the rulers involved, I think I ought to help you set up the diplomatic situation. The diplomatic stances need to make sense and be opposing without either side looking obviously stupid or wrong.

So, here are my thoughts on the matter. I'm thinking all of this will work well. If something doesn't sit well, just let me know.

1) The old king of Gondor (who still sits on the throne in Minas Tirith) is refusing to give up his seat and throws orders around as if he is the King, but he no longer has the power to get things done. The majority of Gondor supports Mardil II and refers to him as "King", especially since his marriage to Morwen, the King's daughter.

2) Mardil is extremely aware of the fact that there are many many Gondorians in Mordor that want to go back home. Now, some of them are criminals and deserve to be there (it's like a giant jail), but Mardil also knows that many of them are completely decent people who do not deserve to be seperated from their families and friends. Unfortunately, there is no way of telling who is who because the former King kept poor records, and some of his records are not to be trusted. Because of this, Mardil wants to give every Mordorian who wishes to go home one chance to escape, and trust to Eru that those who deserve it will succeed. Roggie is opposed to this of course (afraid of losing his subjects). Mardil, though, refuses to compromise on this issue. Especially after his personal experience in Mordor, he finds the idea of innocents being seperated from their families to be a terrible crime that needs to be rectified.

3) Mardil wants the Blue Wizards and their influence GONE! He views them as evil, would-be Saurons. Roggie knows that without their power he would lose many of his citizens, so he can't support getting rid of them. But, Roggie doesn't like them and Mardil knows it, and Mardil hopes to use this factor to finally convince Roggie to help him kill the wizards. Mardil believes that it could be Roggie's destiny to battle the two evil wizards and slay them, since they are all Ainu of the same order. Mardil thinks that Roggie facing down the two obviously evil Maia might result in the former Balrog's ultimate redemption and forgiveness from the Valar for Roggie. Mardil has never discussed this with Roggie, or really anyone except his wife and Anakron. Mardil is biding his time, waiting to play this powerful trump card, which he hopes will completely bring Roggie to his side against the two wizards.

4) Mardil does understand Roggie's concern with losing his subjects, but adamantly believes that is a secondary concern, and that the first order of business is to rid the world of the Blue Istari and free the innocents of Mordor. Mardil thinks that after those things are done, then he and Roggie can work something out that they are both comfortable with. Roggie, because of his anti-Mardil bias (because of losing his leg, and because of Mardil's high bearing), doesn't trust Mardil to fairly treat with him after he has defeated the wizards (despite the fact that Mardil truly would treat with him fairly). Because of Roggie's belief, he insists on reaching some sort of favorable agreement regarding his kingdom losing its people (and therefore him his power) before agreeing to help Mardil with his goals.

I think that those points provide a good basis for the diplomatic tensions between the two kingdoms. Make sure that Mardil's ambassadors are aware of and stay true to Mardil's stances.

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

All players please take this information into account while negotiating or otherwise acting.

[Lhunardawen]

MORDOR

RE - PLACED ON PROPOSAL ~*~ Pio

Lhunardawen's character

NAME: Maikaelwen

AGE: 19

RACE: Human

GENDER: Female

WEAPONS: A pacifist through and through, she will have none but words and stern looks. In very desperate times, though, she can wield a disarming smile. This she had never used before, and hopes she will never have to.

APPEARANCE: Definitely older than her age. She is a mere 5'2" but appears an inch taller with her ramrod-straight back. She has long, thick dark hair reaching her mid-back that she constantly keeps in a bun so tight she should not be able to move her eyebrows (yet she can), using two ebony chopsticks. She has a pasty white complexion that quickly turns red upon exposure to heat, and for that reason she always keeps a safe distance between her and Roggie. She wears nothing but black and white.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: She is strong-willed and can get more than a little biting, but she is not entirely unlikeable - if one does his or her best. She is very capable of keeping her emotions at bay, and would have nothing to do with boys, men, whatever they call themselves, other than in a professional level. Or so she thinks.

HISTORY: Born in Gondor to parents who are hopelessly devoid of creativity, Maikaelwen had practically been whisked off to Mordor the moment they came up with the unimaginative nickname for her, by virtue of its commonness. And so another Maika was added to Mordorian population.

But Maika would not let her early assignment go to waste. Quickly learning the ropes of living in the Dark Land, she ranted and glared and raised-eyebrow her way to where she is now. Yet despite loving her life in Mordor, somewhere inside her lies a quiet desire to go back to the place of her birth, and it only needs something to awaken it.

[littlemanpoet]

CAMEO

PLACED ON PROPOSAL ~*~ Pio

NAME: Anakron Istkon Vayor

AGE: 51

RACE: Umbarian

GENDER: male

WEAPONS : none. except for the Anakron Staff

APPEARANCE: Tall, black robed, austere, high forehead, a black wide-brimmed hat, long white hair, narrow, beardless face. Holds the Anakron Staff, which is made of black metal, and bears the insignia of the Grand Anakronist, a stylized representation of a Siamese Cat, known however to morph into Sylvester.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Austere, authoritative, rhetorical expert, formal. Given the right circumstances, will break out into a doggerel chattering, dancing buffoon in vaudeville style (part of the Anakronism Dweomer).

HISTORY: Elempi of Umbar grew up as a model child in a wealthy (but not ruling) family, was trained from early as a scholar in history, language, and philosophy. He taught in the Academy of Umbar for twenty years until he was handpicked by the retiring Grand Anakronist to replace him. He was given the Anakron Staff, which creates nothing, but directs the latent effects of the Anakronism Dweomer. Has recently developed a fondness for Panakeia, one of the former Offending Party.

[JennyHallu]

UM...WHAT SIDE AM I ON AGAIN?

PLACED ON PROPOSAL ~*~ Pio

Name: Lola Martinet, aka 'Ms. Martinet'

Age: 27

Race: Human

Gender: Female

Weapons: Wit and an acerbic tongue, also, and subject to approval, a set of weaponized ballpoint pens in blue and black ink.

Personality/Appearance/All that Jazz: Lola Martinet is perverse, contrary, sly, and gets intense satisfaction out of irritating people. This, combined with a delightfully unorthodox profession, has given her the perfect excuse to create two separate personas, so incredibly different that only a few people have ever managed to connect the two (even as fraternal twins, separated at birth and raised by wild animals and orcs, respectively). Only Alli is aware that her second-in-command is, in fact, perfectly sane.

By day, Ms. Martinet rules the roost at Alli's office. To anyone but her employer she is the secretary from hell. She has perfected bureaucracy into a fine art, developing multiple forms (each to be filed in triplicate) for simple tasks, and delights in filling each out with slightly different information in order to crow over the chaos further down the line. She works on her manicure on busy days, intentionally misdirects callers and visitors, chews bubble gum loudly during conversations, and, when asked to take minutes of sensitive meetings, stares fixedly at a spot in the center of the speaker's forehead, never glancing down at her notebook. For Alli, however, she is quick and efficient, with no delays or complaints. She looks mousy, dresses in dull browns and tans, and glares at people over the rims of half-moon glasses. Her hair is always a tight damp knot of indeterminate color, and her nails the only part of her body to be perpetually perfectly groomed. She plays progressive jazz in the office (you know, the sort with a three-drink minimum) and is always the only person to understand it, much less enjoy it.

By night, sexy, voluptuous Lola is every man's dream. Her blond hair is always perfectly crimped and coiffed, and she dresses in clothes and styles designed to accentuate her curvaceous body (her favorite is a red sequined minidress). She sings her beloved jazz in a nightclub in Mordor--that is, when she isn't completing daring and dangerous missions with Alli in the dead of night. Her starry, near violet eyes make men believe she is promising the moon. She isn't. (Even when she glances up at them coyly through her thick dark lashes.) She is a flirt, a maneater, and a heartbreaker, and delights in it.

History: Lola grew up a prim, proper, and inhibited young lady in Gondor, but was assigned to Mordor when her classical harp music suddenly gained some rather odd chords. She only half-heartedly worked to be able to leave, as she found she loved the chaos and confusion of life in Mordor...it played right into her perfectly manicured hands.

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

Technically you're on the Mordorian side, Jen, since you work for Alli and Alli works for Roggie, but since we're not taking active part in the negotiations, we don't have to choose sides.

Also, Eomer of the Rohirrim will once again cover the role of Aimè the Hunter. He'll post up a bio soon.

And I may have acquired our last Mordorian official.

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

Diamond18 is joining us as a Mordorian diplomat.

[piosenniel]

JennyH

Post edited.

-----

Fea

Is EotR the last Gondorian ambassador?

~*~ Pio

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

Eomer is still merely a cameo role. I'm still in the process of abducti-- er, I mean enlisting my last Gondorian.

[JennyHallu]

Question: Fea, I just reread your first post and I must confess some confusion...are we going to Gondor, or is Gondor coming to us? You mentioned Alli's ability to travel and wish for Aime to accompany her, and then told Ms. Martinet she's responsible for getting the Gondorians a place to stay.

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

I'll have to edit a little bit to clarify. Negotiations will take place in Mordor. I'll have to think of a good reason why. I mean, I know perfectly well why a spymaster would want events unfolding on her own turf where every corner of the castle contains her ears, but diplomatic reasons that won't offend an arrogant king?

I'm very open to suggestions. I don't do politics. That's why Alli's got a second in command; she doesn't do them either, at least not more than strictly necessary.

In any case, what will happen is Alli will go to Gondor to convince Mardil to treat with Roggie. This will not take place in the game. It will be after that that she returns with a list of names of the soon-arriving diplomats for Lola. The next post in the game will take place just long enough after my first to account for round trip travel time and a day or two in Minas Tirith.

[Diamond18]

Hey ho everyone. I look forward to joining you all on your adventure. Here is my character:

PLACED ON PROPOSAL ~*~ Pio


NAME: Skittles MacFarlewyn
(will answer to Skitt and Les, but never to Kit, and never ever to her real name, which is Nancy)

AGE: 21

RACE: Human

GENDER: Female

WEAPONS: Her body is a weapon. Also, she has an endless supply of switchblades with decorative handles.

APPEARANCE: Tall and skinny. Her hair is a mass of tangled black curls, with purple, blue, and emerald green highlights. Her skin is very pale, freakishly so, and tests have shown that she will not tan or burn or even get the slightest shade darker even under long, intensive exposure to sunlight. She once spent seven hours in a tanning booth and didn’t darken a whit (thus winning a bet which entailed the loser having to streak through a church.) She either wears clothes of many bright colors or dresses all in black. The importance of this is covered below.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Skittles does not suffer from insanity, she enjoys every minute of it. She is most often cheerful -- or rather, Morgoth-May-Care -- and there is no predicting what she may do or say. However, she may be provoked into a violent and dangerous mood swing which can last for mere minutes or stretch into days. When this happens she becomes hard, snarky, and switchblade-happy. At times like this she is known to wear black leather and say things like “Do ya feel lucky?”, “Go ahead, make my day,” and “Hasta-la-vista, baby,” as often as she can. She has been known to switch between fancy-free and sinister as many as 60 times per hour. Skittles owns a cat named Hissyfit who accompanies her almost everywhere, unless it is off on its own causing confusion and mass hysteria.

HISTORY: She is a second generation Mordorian -- her parents were Assigned in their youth, both for quoting Shakespeare. After some years they met in an elevator, fell in love, quoted Romeo and Juliet, and decided to get married. This was a foolish thing, since her mother was a psychologist and her father was one of those annoying child rearing experts. Skittles is the demented product of this unholy alliance.

Mr. and Mrs. MacFarlewyn have told Skittles from her earliest youth that she can be whatever she wants to be. Skittles would like to be a tall old oak tree, and there are in fact times when no one can convince her that she is not, and she will stand completely still with her arms outstretched until someone threatens her with an axe, at which time she will do them bodily harm.

How, you may be asking, does such a person become an Ambassador? Wouldn’t she, you may be wondering, be better suited as an assassin or something? Well, you may be right, and she did once kill a man just to watch him die, but her parents were influential members of the community and it was their dream to see Skittles become a high ranking official in the Mordorian government. They pulled strings, greased palms, blackmailed, and made death threats until they secured Skittles the attractive position of Diplomat. She has never been outside Mordor, but this is of little concern to them. Most people deal with her by trying to ignore her, and diverting her attention away from her job onto other things, like pretending she is a tall old oak tree. She can sometimes be convinced to play at diplomacy like it is a role, and since she has a relatively quick mind under her madness, this is not always disastrous.

Skittles, of course, believes that she is completely sane and it is everyone else who is crazy. There is no known medication that has any affect on her -- besides producing a third mood swing and you never, ever want to go there. Trust me.

[Eomer of the Rohirrim]

CAMEO (not so secret this time):

PLACED ON PROPOSAL ~*~ Pio

NAME: Aimé.

AGE: 22.

RACE: Man of Rohan.

GENDER: Male.

WEAPONS: The ability to run away very quickly; a sword (mostly for show); a crossbow; and a high-pitched shriek.

APPEARANCE: Aimé is a little over six feet tall and is thin. He tends to wear shabby clothes: jackets, cloaks. At times, this looks quite fetching in an 'outsider' kind of way. Most of the time, though, he just looks like a mess. He has flowing hair which appears to change colour depending on which way he turns: here dark brown, here golden, here sepia. He has deep blue eyes and an entirely lazy demeanour. He appears sedated most of the time. He has also acquired a black top hat, which he wears nearly all the time.

PERSONALITY: Selfish; cowardly; cynical; uninterested in most other people. But that's on the inside. To other eyes, Aimé appears exceedingly charming. When in the mood, he can be extremely unlikeable to those who get close to him, and this mood takes him often.

STRENGTHS: The ability to make himself appear far more interesting and desirable than he actually is.

WEAKNESSES: Beautiful piano music can reduce him to a weeping wreck. There's also the huge discomfort he gets from simply being around other people. And sharp things like axes, swords and teeth through the skin. Aimé's quite the bleeder.

HISTORY: Aimé was assigned to Mordor a few years previously (by his as-yet-unidentified nemesys), and has grown used to it. He has been sighted far more frequently in recent times: often stealing through the harsh wilderness of the land, or indeed up to who-knows-what in the dark Mordorian nightlife.

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

Formendacil has reminded me of that which is obvious enough, but managed to slip my mind.

Originally Posted by Formsy

You need a reason for the negotiations to take place in Mordor. Well, it just so happens that all of the inhabitants of Mordor, including the diplomats, were Assigned there, and we all know what a hassle it is to get OUT of Mordor.

Therefore, to emphasize the advantage of his position as Overlord, Mardil has the negotiations take place in Mordor. He can send his people in and out as he wishes, but Roggie and his people are forced to remain therein. A sort of domination/power struggle thing, perhaps?

Just a thought...

Inhabitants of Mordor can't just up and leave. It will be understood that negotiations take place in Mordor because Mordorian ambassadors are not allowed to leave and, given that they are soon to commence discussion on immigration laws, they will not be slipping out of the country illegally in order to meet up with Mardil's people.

I'll edit my post somewhat this afternoon (EST) to accomodate this, unless Jen would like to take care of such details with Lola? I can quite easily see Alli's orders being "I want everyone in this castle. Find me a plausible excuse for it." and continuing on with her work.

[piosenniel]

Fea

if you edit your post - just place the revised one on this thread and I'll replace the one you originally sent.

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

Anyone who wants to edit something in their character's bio - just notify me with a post to the Discussion Thread that you've done so. I don't often read the little 'reason for edit tags'.


~*~ Pio