Hunt for the Palantíri Discussion Thread

[piosenniel]

Regin Hardhammer invites you to play in his game:

Hunt for the Palantíri

~*~

Historical Background

Posters should carefully read the Prologue (the first post that appears on the game thread) for information on the origin and power of the palantíri .

~*~

Basic Storyline

The purpose of this story is for the Elves to retrieve the lost palantíri from the bottom of the Bay and, with Elessar’s blessing, send them back to the West. In order to do this, they must battle the forces of nature and a ship of Corsair pirates who are also determined to find and use the crystal globes for the evil purpose of their master in Harad.

[piosenniel]

The story will be over when: the Elves find and retrieve the palantíri and/or defeat the Corsairs.

Starting Location: On a ship bound for the Ice Bay from the Grey Havens.

Likely destination: On a ship bound for the Grey Havens from the Ice Bay.

[piosenniel]

Timeframes:

This game takes place around Year 21 of the Fourth Age.

The storyline itself or plot covers one month.

This game requires a time commitment of 11 weeks from me, the game owner and from the major players.

[piosenniel]

Regin Hardhammer’s post ----- FIRST FOR GAME

PROLOGUE

Who knows where the lost Stones of Arnor and Gondor now lie, buried, or drowned deep?

--- Gandalf, from The Two Towers


The palantiri, or Seeing Stones, were fashioned by the Noldor, probably by Feanor. The Elves presented seven of these to Amandil as leader of the Faithful in the Second Age. The palantíri were crystal globes of power, black in color, that a person of strong will could use to communicate thoughts with someone using a similar stone or to see things from anywhere in the past or present. In the hands of a good ruler, the Stones were important tools for communication, but they were also capable of abuse. The evil ruler with a strong will could use the Stones for spying and domination. Sauron, for instance, projected images of despair in the Anor-stone to manipulate and destroy Denethor’s mind. There is even some indication that using the Stones, like the Ring itself, could be addictive to its owner, especially if misused.

Amandil’s son Elendil brought seven of the Stones with him when he sailed to Middle-earth after the fall of Numenor. These were eventually given to the Kings of Gondor and the North for safekeeping. A verse from The Two Towers describes the faithful fleeing Numenor bringing the Stones with them as they sailed across the sea:

Tall ships and tall kings,
Three times three,
What brought they from the foundered land
Over the flowing sea?
Seven stars and seven stones
And one white tree.

This tale will focus on the Stones of Amon Sûl and Annúminas, the most important palantíri belonging to the Kings in the North. The Stone of Annúminas was the smaller of the two, measuring about twelve inches across. It was used by the Northern Kings for day-to-day communication, and had a range of about 500 miles. Even more powerful was the Stone of Amon Sûl. This was so large that it took more than one man to lift and could work over very long distances. In the winter of 1974 T.A., after years of unrest in Arnor, the Witch King defeated King Arvedui. The King and his men escaped with both Stones to the northern foothills of the Blue Mountains and hid in a deserted dwarf-mine. Hunger and cold drove them to seek help from the Lossoth, also called the Snowmen.

The Lossoth were a remnant of an ancient people called the Forodwaith dwelling along the Ice Bay of Forochel. Their culture was well adapted to their snowy/icy environment – they constructed houses out of snow (possibly similar in principle to igloos), and traveled on sleds and bone skates. Despite the Snowmen's fear of the Witch King, and the general unfriendliness of the tribe, they took pity on the strangers and helped them survive.

When the Elf Cirdan heard about the King, he sent a rescue ship. This ship arrived in the Ice Bay of Forochel in March 1975 T.A., when thick sheets of ice still covered the shore extending out into the water. Despite the Lossoth's warnings and the treacherous conditions, Arvedui insisted on trying to reach this Elven ship. He managed to do this with help from the Lossoth but, once aboard, a great storm arose that drove the Elven vessel back towards the shore onto the ice. The ice crushed the hull and the ship sank, killing all aboard and taking with it the precious palantíri that the King had brought with him. (LotR, Appendix A, iii)

By the end of the War of the Rings, just two known Stones remained in Middle-earth. The Orthanc-stone, once controlled by Saruman, was the one King Elessar normally used. The second, the Anor-stone, was virtually unusable since it still bore the imprint of Denethor’s hands and crazed mind when he threw himself on the fire.

It’s interesting to think about what happened to these lost palantiri of the North. Did they remain undiscovered at the bottom of the Ice Bay, or did someone try to find them? The Palantiri were objects of immense power and would be prime targets for anyone seeking to seize political authority by sinister means. Fortunately, most people did not know about the Stones at the beginning of the Fourth Age. However, this tale will explore a Corsair sea captain’s quest to find the Palantiri both for his master and to avenge the death of his father.

[piosenniel]

1.) Regin Hardhammer - Corsair male


NAME: Captain Marreth

AG: 39

RACE: Corsair (Man)

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS :

Marreth is an experienced captain of a sailing vessel whose most effective weapon is his ship and its armaments. These range from catapults with rocks and flaming arrows to battering rams and the men who fight under him. He carries a rapier for use in boarding other ships or for dealing with problems on land. Tucked inside his boots are several throwing daggers and a large knife for cutting ropes, gutting fish, and other nautical deeds.

APPEARANCE:

Marreth is lean and lanky with a long black beard and grey eyes that reflect both intelligence and determination. He wears brown leather boots, dark red pants, a flowing white shirt, and a brown cloak. From a previous pillaging expedition to the Ice Bay, he stole a thick fur coat made from the pelt of a polar bear.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES:

Marreth is a man who cannot stand still. He constantly paces up and down his ship’s deck, inspecting and re-inspecting equipment and barking out orders to the crew. A bright and resourceful mariner, he is single minded in his devotion to his vessel and the particular mission he is on. However, he will not hesitate to put his men in harm’s way and push them to the extreme if that is required to accomplish his goal. Most of his crew admire him as someone who has had a long string of successes, and will follow him without question as long as he earns them a rich share of booty.

Marreth is unique among the Corsairs for having an interest in history and lore. Privately on land, or when locked away in his cabin, Marroth spends his nights pouring over ancient scrolls and maps, dreaming of powerful ancient kingdoms. This strange interest brought him to the attention of Lord Castamir, a man descended from the Black Numenoreans who now plots to take over the governance of Harad and eventually of Gondor itself.

Marreth is careful that none of his crew find out about this interest in ancient texts, since it would be accounted extremely odd. To his men, he is a ruthless and effective leader whose skill with the sword is unquestioned.

HISTORY:

Marreth’s earliest experience as a sailor and fighter came during the War of the Rings. He was a young officer who sailed with the Corsair fleet assaulting the haven of Pelargir. His father commanded the ship on which he sailed. The Shadow Host overtook this ship, along with all the others. Driven mad with fear, Marroth’s father leapt overboard to his death. Marreth made his way back on foot to the South, and vowed that no ship under his command would ever be seized by the enemy. He swore to find some way to exact revenge against Gondor and Elessar.

He spent long years learning the trade of the Corsairs, plundering up and down the coasts, narrowly escaping Elessar’s grasp. Of late, it had become more difficult to carry on raids without falling prey to the Gondorian navy. Marreth sought a powerful protector and found one in Castamir, a wealthy and powerful lord who had dreams of taking over the rule of Harad. Flying the flag of Castamir’s household, Marreth found his life a little easier. No longer regarded as a pirate, he could go to the fiefs under Castamir’s rule and extract plunder and booty from poor peasants and wealthy merchants alike, under the guise of “lawful taxes”.

Marreth’s brave deeds and efficient collection of taxes earned him Castamir’s respect. For this reason, and because of Marreth’s bookish streak, Castamir appointed him to command the vessel that was traveling to the Ice Bay of Forochel to seek the lost palantiri of Amon Sûl and Annumínas.

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Regin Hardhammer’s post - Mareth -- 6TH POST FOR GAME

Marreth sat brooding inside the cabin of his ship, which had been moored at the side of the Ice Bay, within a well hidden cove that was totally free of ice and snow. The weather was stormy and the night dark. He gazed out at the violent sea as the waves rose and thunder roared. This was the worst storm he had experienced since his arrival in Forochel some three months before. It was an ominous sign that the weather was changing, and that blankets of snow and ice would soon descend on their heads. He found himself troubled and frustrated that he and his men had made so little progress towards accomplishing their goal.

Earlier that year, everything had seemed more optimistic. Marreth’s patron, the great Lord Castamir, had been searching ancient scrolls to obtain information on artifacts of power, especially those created by the Noldor. As a descendent of the Black Numenoreans, Castamir had extensive knowledge of early languages and lore, which he hoped to use to seize control in Umbar and eventually to challenge Gondor itself. While visiting Minas Tirith on a trading mission, Castamir had been able to consult the royal library and was elated to learn about the ancient Stones of Annumínas and Amon Sûl. He immediately decided to send out an expedition to locate and retrieve these objects of power from their watery grave at the bottom of the Ice Bay of Forochel. These Stones would give him the means to spy on Elessar’s troops and navy as well as to keep a controlling eye on his own people.

Circumstances seemed to favor such an expedition. There had been several years of drought in the North, with diminished amounts of rain and snow. As a result, the water of the Bay was shallower than it had been for some time, with stretches of the coastline and its maze of caves and rocks exposed to public view for the first time.

Marreth had eagerly sworn allegiance to Castamir, agreeing to head the expedition. Castamir’s plan seemed like the perfect way for Marreth to gain revenge. During the War of the Rings, Marreth had served on his father’s ship as part of the Corsair fleet that sailed up the Anduin. He had seen Elessar lead the hosts of the dead onto the pirates’ ships, and his own father driven mad as he jumped overboard to his death. Marreth had sworn to avenge the death of his father by bringing ruin to Elessar and his kingdom. These two Stones could help accomplish that goal.

Marreth and his ship had arrived at the Bay in early summer and spent months struggling to locate the missing globes. But the search had not gone quite as smoothly as expected. An exploration of the coastline and caves had yielded no results. And even on the fringes of the Bay, the Corsair divers could not stay in the water long enough to find anything without freezing to death. At first, the Losseth, the native peoples of the Ice Bay, had been suspicious and sought to avoid the strangers. As time wore on, a few malcontents began to assist Marreth, won over by future assurances that the Corsairs would supply a large cache of weapons to help them topple the existing Lossoth chieftains and seize leadership within their own tribes.

These malcontents, in turn, provided the Corsairs with seals that had been specially trained to seach for evidence of shipwrecks along the bottom of the Bay. With the establishment of peace, there had been a considerable increase in the number of trading ships that sailed North over the summer months. Along with this increase came a rise in the number of shipwrecks.

Those Lossoth who could handle the trained seals actually made their living from salvage operations, having the animals first locate the vessels and bring up a piece or two of sunken booty to those waiting in the ships. Then Lossoth divers would plunge into the waters and quickly secure the objects using a heavy leather net or sturdy ropes before attaching these to the hook of the WINCH. The last step would be pulling the object to the surface and unloading it onto the boat. This whole operation was only feasible during the summer when large stretches of water were free of ice.

Marreth had hired the men and told them to use these same tactics to hunt the palantiri, but they had still not achieved success. As the weather began to worsen, the Corsair pushed his crew and their Lossoth allies even harder to try and find the Stones.

Marreth set aside his reflections. The storm was blowing furiously: he needed to make sure that the rigging of the ship was securely fastened. Marreth rose abruptly, rushed out into the hall, and barked to his two most loyal officers, Diera and XXXX, to follow him on deck. As he was checking the rigging at the bow, he saw in the distance a large sailing vessel being tossed about by the waves. He could barely make out the distinctively swan-like outline of an Elven ship. He lurched forward in astonishment, clinging to the rail, and tried to get a clearer look. He had only seen such vessels in the ancient lore books that he had read. His second reaction was one of anger. Such a ship could only be drawn to the Ice Bay for the same reason that he was. They must be here to take the Stones for themselves and their allies the Gondorians.

Marreth roared out above the din of the storm, “Infernal Elf vermin! Thou vain, milk livered coxcombs, may you sink to the bottom of the sea!” Then he turned to his captains, pointing an accusing finger towards the bobbing ship, “Look there, we have company, and I fear they are up to no good!”

[piosenniel]

DEDICATED CHARACTER


2.) Regin Hardhammer – Lossoth (Snowman) female

NAME: Hilde Halvardsdatter

AGE: 50

RACE: Snowman

GENDER: Female

WEAPONS: Not really any, but Hilde carries a dagger and small hatchet at her waist that she uses for her day-to-day chores. She is adept with both a bow and a fishing net in bringing down game and fish.

APPEARANCE: Grey and grizzled, Hilde is tall and plain. She pulls her hair back into two long braids.

PERSONALITY/: Hilde is extremely quiet. She does not share her feelings or thoughts with others. She is a widow who must struggle to make a living, and is totally devoted to her son Gunthar, now in his twenties. He is the pride and joy of her existence.

She has promised to serve as the maid, cook, and food gatherer for the Elves carrying out the many practical things that they will not have time to do. She is extremely industrious, cleaning and dusting all the cabins on the ship, and even offering to do laundry and other personal chores for the Elves.

(Since this character won’t come into play till later, a first post is not needed.)

[piosenniel]

DEDICATED CHARACTER


3.) Piosenniel – Skinchanger from Far Southern lands

NAME: Rôg

AGE: around 44

RACE: Maenwaith – Skinchanger from the south (see Here There Be Dragons RPG in Gondor forum)

GENDER: Male

APPEARANCE:

5’6”; black hair; dark brown eyes; olive toned skin; softly muscled, lean frame; a little stooped when he does not remember to straighten his posture, from long hours spent hunched over scrolls and tomes in libraries, and over his own notebooks; a pleasant, though not memorable face; long, tapering fingers with well kept nails; an ink stain and thick callous on his right middle finger indicating where the quill is grasped. There is a small, flat, ovoid shaped gold stud in his upper left ear, nearly hidden where the top of ear folds over on itself like a sea shell.

Prefers loose clothing in dark, earthen tones, browns and blacks – breeches and tunics worn with boots if necessary in the north and western climes. Otherwise bare-footed. Dark brown hooded cape for protection against the elements. A number of large handkerchiefs are crammed in various pockets of the cape, most of them a yellow color. For his explorations here in the cold north, he has adopted the native wear of hide breeches and hooded tunics lined with thick fur to keep away the chill.

Carries an ebony walking stick; small hand ax used for gathering fuel for fire; an over the shoulder leather pouch which, among other items, holds several leather bound notebooks and one small chapbook; a quill case; inkstone and blotter sand; at his belt he wears a small leather sheath with a small, sharp double edged knife – used mainly for sharpening quills or cutting up vegetables.


PERSONALITY:

He has a pleasant temperament, and a dry sense of humor. Good listener, feels no desire to talk one’s ear off. A slow, methodical worker; does not like to feel ‘hurried’. He prefers to evaluate all sides of a problem before settling on an answer. In a dangerous situation, he would be more likely to take cover than fight. Though, as yet, nothing has pushed him to the point where his mettle might be tested.

Dependable, intelligent. Used to the wandering life. A whiz with a cooking pot and any edible vegetation and small game. Can start a fire under any conditions. He is a man of many useful talents.


HISTORY:

Born in TA 2999. For five years his home was in the wide, broad valley bounded by the lower limb of the Orocarni, the Mountains of the East; the dense forest on their west and east; and the arid steppe that pushed its way south and east, descending to the shores of the seas. His family were members of a small nomadic tribe who wandered this sparsely populated area, trading with other tribes in the vicinity, often venturing as far West as the outskirt cities of Rhûn. His father made the small, serviceable axes of the sort that graced his own belt. His mother wove colorful baskets, useful for many things in the peoples of that region’s daily lives, and useful, too, her larger ones, for burial.

He and his older sister, two years his senior, enjoyed a fairly carefree life during this time. Though sometimes he and she were pressed into service for gathering the fibrous materials for baskets, or pumping the bellows when their father was at work on the ax heads, for the most part, they were free to roam. And best they loved the forests with their scrubby, green needled trees, roots gripped firm on the rocky ground. . . and the wildlife, the abundant and most intriguing wildlife. Encouraged by their parents, they both grew up with a great respect for the creatures that shared their lives . . . and a healthy respect for the creatures’ ability to protect themselves.

Then the Shadow from the west lengthened. At first a hushed story told in whispers around the cooking fires by the elders, then encounters with peoples they had previously traded with who now claimed some sort of allegiance to a great Lord in a far western place called Mordor. The elders and parents seemed secretive to a youngster of five, but his own reassured him and his sister that there was nothing to worry about. Nonetheless, in the following months they began a slow migration southward, hugging the coast of the Eastern Sea and then the Inner Sea. Past the places of half remembered stories from before the time of men.

When he was about ten years old, the elders made the decision that they had come to a place they felt safe enough to settle in. This new area lay in a semi-arid region between the Great Dark Forests of the South and the coast of the Inner Sea. And it was here that he spent the next fifteen years of his life. The letters and numbers he had learned at his mother’s knee now proved useful to his family and tribe – increased contact with other wandering tribes meant increased trade, and he had the talent to keep the tallies.

At twenty-five, he traded for his first scroll, paying the traveling merchant extra for a quick lesson on how to read the peculiar script. It was only a short, illustrated treatise on locating wells and digging them; an unexciting piece of literature, save for the fact it showed him how such a thing was done in some other part of the world. And when he learned, from the same fellow that there were buildings dedicated to the storage of manuscripts and scrolls, which were open for those so inclined to read and study in, he resolved to see them. His wishes came to fruition in the next few years, and with the blessings of his parents and his other tribe members he set off, wandering north and west, seeking to increase his knowledge.

~*~

His travels now find him in a corner of the world he has not been to – the great, icy lands in the far northwest of Middle-earth. All manner of interesting birds and animals abound in this inhospitable area, and he has been very busy these last few months exploring the tundra and ice floes under the direction of his Iceman guide, Bear. They are just now returning to the Ice Bay, before the harsh season of winter comes on fully.

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Piosenniel’s post --- 2ND FOR GAME

‘My clan should have finished their Late Season Hunt by now,’ said Bear, his breath trailing in an icy fog behind him as he spoke. He rode the runners of the ice sled as the team of six dogs raced over the ice toward home. ‘We should be there soon. And by the way, we’ll pass by the northern rim of the Ice Bay. You’ll be able to see how thick the ice has grown while we’ve been away.’

Rôg spared a frozen grin back at his guide, and would have given him the universal gesture of a thumbs-up, save that his hands were encased in thick leather gloves and buried beneath the heavy fur hide covering him from toes to chin that blocked the cold from his body. Never mind that he already wore breeches and a hooded tunic lined with soft, warm fur – he was still cold, a disadvantage from having lived the majority of his life in the desert areas of the South lands and the far north east.

This had proved a most interesting trip for him. He’d seen birds and animals he’d not seen before in his travels. His notebooks were filled with description and drawings of all he came upon. The people here, too, he found fascinating – they seem to have adapted so well to this inhospitable climate. Rôg chuckled to himself at the thought that they would suffer just as much in the heat of his homeland.

They traveled on a good deal further over the white land with patches of frosted, peaty tundra just barely showing through. Bear called out to the dogs as he pulled on the reins, turning them toward the northern rim of the bay. They stopped near the edge and the two men proceeded on foot to look out across the freezing waters. Much of the bay was already beginning to freeze over, especially the shallower areas along the edges. Rôg could almost hear the ice groan as it reached out further to take hold of the deeper waters.

Rôg put his mittened hand to his brow, shading his eyes has he looked toward the far end of the bay. He squinted hard against the glare at some small, indistinct shapes he could see floating in the freer areas near the bay’s opening. ‘I didn’t know your people had sailing ships,’ he said, drawing Bear’s attention away from the dogs which had been given a small snack for their efforts.

Bear’s brow furrowed at the comment. ‘We don’t,’ he returned, drawing up alongside Rôg. His hand went in to the large pouch that hung from his shoulder and fetched out his long-seeing tube he’d gotten in a trade from one of the other clans. Steadying his arm he peered through the tube, describing as he focused it, the ships that were in the bay. Now it was Rôg’s turn to frown, and he took the tube from his companion to look for himself . . . hoping against hope, that it was not what he expected.

‘Scurvy sea-rats!’ he muttered, a term picked up on his few voyages by ship to Umbar.

‘You know these ships?’ Bear asked, not understanding the words of the imprecation but the feelings behind it. ‘Not so good, eh?’ he prompted Rôg.

‘Not good at all, my friend. They’re Corsairs . . .’

~*~

A few hours later found them at Bear’s clan encampment. News of the far southern men in ships had spread to the enclaves of Icemen about the Bay and Rôg gleaned what he could from the bits and pieces of gossip. They had been in the bay for a number of months now, seeking some sort of treasure, he heard. No, not from the sunken ships another answered to his question of what kind. ‘Old, old treasure,’ said one of the ancient elders in a thin reedy voice. ‘Those men from the old tales who sought our help. They had the great round stone, and the lesser,’ he said, recalling the old story they had all heard. ‘They were lost in the waters of the bay, it was told. Held by the ice for all these years from the Shadow and the Light.’ Those standing near the old man nodded their heads remembering the story. Other Lossoth from clans nearer the place where the Corsairs were seeking had been offered payment for their aid in helping to find the treasure, so Bear’s clansmen had heard. Not all the Lossoth thought it a fortunate venture – there was something about the men in the ships that raised the hackles of warning that they might prove untrustworthy in their promises. A number of the Lossoth who had agreed to aid the Corsairs were those ‘troublemakers’ within the various clans who had sought to challenge the present chieftains for clan leadership. It was said that the Corsairs were helping these malcontents with a promise of weapons to use in their fight for the right to be ruler.

Rôg listened silently as Bear and the others discussed the Treasure-seekers. He had no idea what they were seeking, but he knew that whatever it was, the finding of it would bode ill for any of the perceived enemies of Harad and Umbar. One of the Lossoth elders thought it might be good if they sent a message to the Elves in the Gulf of Lune, to ask for aid in ridding the Ice Bay of these treasure seekers. What use that would be, though, was debated hotly, since travel by land or sea would take many, many weeks.

In the midst of the discussion, Rôg cleared his throat to draw their attention and then spoke in a hesitating manner. ‘Begging your pardon, but if you can tell me where it is I need to go, I can take your message for you. Should only take a day if it is somewhere near the havens in Mithlond.’

The clansmen looked at him as if he had gone quite daft, and then one by one they began to laugh at his preposterous offer. ‘A day to make it to The Star and Swan at the Grey Havens?!’ one of them hooted. ‘What’s your friend propose to do, Bear? Fly?’

‘Well, yes, actually,’ said Rôg quietly. ‘The Star and Swan, you say? At the Grey Havens?’ Stepping outside the ice hut, the laughing crowd following after him, Rôg walked quickly to a large open space on the frozen tundra. I’ll return as soon as I can with help.’ Many of the group shook their heads at him, and returned to the shelter of the hut. The wind was picking up and already there were swirling flurries of snow that obscured the landscape. Bear watched Rôg as he moved farther away from the hut. He was hoping the man would give up the crazy idea and return to warmth of the hut with him. Rôg’s figure had grown dim in the distance and Bear called out to him. His words caught in his throat as he saw through the thick white blanket of snowy air a huge, dark figure take to the air

The brown Wyrm’s wing-beats stirred up the swirling flurries even more. He circled once, close over the small figure of Bear below him, then dipping his head once to the wide-eyed man, he flew south.

~*~

It was late night when he circled the Havens. Winter clouds obscured the moon and blocked the stars, making his drop down to an empty field just a short ways north of the gulf go unnoticed. A very short walk brought him to the cobblestone street that ran through the middle of the small town and down to the harbor itself. A narrow, dirt side street that paralleled the main one was where The Star and Swan sat, an Elvish watering hole for those still considering the trip West. Cirdan and his ship had not been seen in many years and the clientele of the Inn had continued to grow slowly, the patrons becoming fast friends. It was an unassuming little place . . . plain in looks, the wood greyed from years of contact with the salt sea mists and breezes. It bore no sign, only a small engraving on the thick oak door of an Elven Swan ship with a single mast; the sail of which bore a reyed, six-pointed star. What looked like waves were etched along the ship’s side and seemed to break against the bow . . . though on closer look they were not waves but clouds . . .

Rôg pushed open the door, stepping into the welcome heat of the small fire in the stone hearth. He pushed back his brown hood, letting his eyes accustom themselves to the level of light in the Inn. There were Elves . . . a fair number of them in his estimation, scattered about in the booths and at the tables in the Common Room. Their grey eyes were all turned to him, a detached sort of curiosity showing in them. ‘What sort of creature is this?’ he could almost hear them wondering. Not one to dither when action is called for, Rôg stepped into the middle of the room and cleared his throat loudly in the silence.

‘Begging your pardon, Master Innkeeper,’ he began, acknowledging the aproned Elf who leaned on the bar, his brows raised at the out of place visitor. ‘And yours also, good Sirs and Ladies . . . but I was asked to bring a message to the Elves of Lune from the men who live round the Ice Bay. Something is troubling them, and they need your assistance to sort it out.’

‘And what sort of trouble would that be, Rôg?’ came a vaguely familiar voice from the shadowed corner of a booth. Rôg squinted into the darkness, seeking a face to fit the voice.

‘Luindal? Is that you I hear?’ He went on before the Elf could clamber from the booth and show himself. ‘Big trouble, I think. There are men seeking two stones lost by other men long ago, in the bay. Good men, I think it was who lost the stones . . . a great round stone and a lesser, the elders told me . . . but I fear to tell you it is men of the Far South, Corsairs from Umbar, who now seek to gain them for themselves.

[piosenniel]

DEDICATED CHARACTER


4.) Child of the 7th Age – Silvan Elf

NAME: Luindal

AGE: 942

RACE: Silvan Elf, but with some Sindarin blood in his mother’s line

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: He bears a silver-grey bow carved from the wood of a mallorn tree; this was given to him as a gift by his father. A short sword is girded on his left hip, and a hunting dagger on his right.

APPEARANCE: Tall and lanky, even for an Elf. He has serious grey eyes and dark curls hanging to his shoulders; the latter are usually held back by a simple leather thong. Luindal no longer favors the dark green or brown clothing he used to wear in Lorien, which enabled him to melt easily into his forest setting. Instead, on shipboard, he dons tunics of sea green or sky-blue over light-colored breeches and sturdy leather boots. For the trip north, he has brought only a thick woolen cape with a fur-trimmed hood for extra protection.

PERSONALITY, STRENGTHS, WEAKNESSES: Calm and patient, Luindal takes his work seriously. Yet he is capable of laughter, merriment, and song when he is among friends and the situation is relaxed. He keeps a small flute in his pack and sometimes plays to amuse himself and those he is with when the day’s work is done.

By nature, Luindal is a follower rather than a leader; his parents have raised him to lead a quiet life, focusing on family and the joy that comes from experiencing the natural elements in which he lives. These values are characteristic of many Wood-elves. As a result, he has few worldly ambitions. Yet it was this modest nature that initially attracted Celeborn’s attention and led him to enlist the Elf in his service. Sauron’s expanding influence and the resultant conflict gave Luindal little choice but to hone his skills for war, something that he did with great effectiveness.

Unlike most of his Elven kin, Luindal has had many dealings with other Free Peoples outside the borders of Lorien. Sailing up and down the Anduin on Celeborn’s errands, he grew to know and understand the Men of Rohan and Gondor, both their achievements and failings. He was content to see the War of the Ring come to an end, even though it meant the fading of his own people. Perhaps because of this, he now doubts whether it is right for him to become involved in another situation where he will be called upon to fight for the good of Middle-earth. Is this his place, or should he sail West and leave the problems of Arda to Men who now must struggle with them? This is not an easy question for him to answer.

Despite his keen intelligence and skills in sailing, Luindal has one weakness as a leader: with so much good in his own nature, he has trouble identifying evil and deceit in the actions of those around him. He can be too trusting at times, which could prove to be a problem on his mission to the Ice Bay.

Luindal has another characteristic that may have some bearing on this tale. Most Elves can withstand extremes of heat and cold far better than Men do. This is particularly true for Luindal. Frigid temperatures and blowing winds do little more than inconvenience him. He can survive in situations where many others, even of his own kin, might eventually perish.


HISTORY: For 360 years, Luindal lived peacefully with his parents and sister under the eaves of Lorien’s Golden Wood. These years known as “The Watchful Peace” lasted from 2063 to 2460 T.A., when Sauron withdrew from Dol Goldur and temporarily fled to the east. From his father Telcor, the young Elf learned much of the forest and its ways, becoming an accomplished scout and tracker. His mother Arborien, who was of mixed Silvan and Sindarin heritage, would often draw Luindal close to her after twilight fell, teaching him all manner of tales and songs.

While Lorien stood far from the Sea, the young Luindal loved to explore the stream of Nimrodel that ran through the wood and then spilled over into the Silverlode. He had even journeyed once with his family as far south as the Anduin River, listening as his mother explained how these waters flowed into the Bay of Belefas and, from there, joined with the Sea. The boy loved these waters with all his heart, not only as the passage to the West but for their own wonder and joy. He often sat and listened to the gulls straying inland or carved small wooden ships and set them loose upon the waters, watching them sail away to an unknown destination.

Celeborn had noticed Luindal’s special talents quite early and had asked him to work alongside those Elves who built and sailed the small swan ships that plied the waters of the woods. Luindal’s skills proved invaluable during the War of the Ring. He helped to lead the fleet of boats that Celeborn and Galadriel took up the Anduin to recapture Dol Goldur and cleanse the woods of evil.

When Luindal’s parents and sister chose to sail West at the beginning of the Fourth Age, he accompanied them as far as the Grey Havens. Still unwilling to depart Middle-earth, Luindal bade his family farewell, promising to join them at some later time. Cirdan was greatly in need of an Elf with seafaring experience. He presented Luindal with a sturdy swan ship to conduct errands and procure supplies for the Havens, since the large numbers of Elves departing at that time were straining available resources. For several years, Luindal sailed to many distant ports, including Minas Tirith. In the course of these duties, he made the acquaintance of the Shapechanger Rôg while staying with an old friend Piosenniel and her husband Mithadan on trips to deliver certain rare artifacts and manuscripts to Elessar.


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

Child of the 7th Age’s post - 3rd post for game

Luindal gently pushed his cup of nectar to the side and peered intently across the Common Room; he had been startled to hear the message given to the Innkeeper. He craned his neck for a closer look and was even more surprised to observe that the messenger was someone he actually knew: Rôg the Shapechanger, a man of many talents who had last crossed his path during a visit to the home of a friend near Minas Tirith. The words the Shapechanger spoke seemed even more unlikely than the fact that the speaker had apparently materialized out of nowhere in the middle of the Havens. As Luindal well knew, the young man had certain special talents that even he and his fellow Elves could not match.

Luindal stood up and walked over to his friend, gesturing Rôg to join him at one of the corner tables; then, he stretched out his lanky frame and carefully listened to his companion’s strange tale of a Corsair sea captain who had recently arrived in the north searching for two ancient Stones at the bottom of the Ice Bay. Clearly, these were the palantiri of Annúminas and Amon Sôl that had sunk some thousand years before, when the Elven ship sent to rescue the King had capsized and all aboard, including Arvedui, perished beneath the ice.

Luindal first explained how the Stones could be used to communicate thought and images over great distances, and even to twist and manipulate the mind of the speaker on the other end, duplicitous acts similar to what Sauron had already done. With a sigh, he added, “I must take this news to Cirdan immediately. I do not know what he will say, only that this could have terrible consequences for the peace of Arda and Elessar's intention to restore goodness to the land.”

Rôg responded, “What would you do then to help the Lossoth and rescue the Stones, if this thing were left to you?”

“Do not even ask!” Luindal’s frustration was evident in his curt denial. “I am but an Elven seafarer, a simple Wood-Elf with a knack for boats. Such questions are above me. Other Elves in the Havens understand these matters better than I do. Cirdan can decide what to do and have them mount an expedition to put things right.”

With the end of their conversation, Luindal offered to shelter his friend for the night. He had plenty of room on the swan ship Phalás, or Sea-Spirit, now moored beside the dock: this vessel currently served as his home. Hastily escorting Rôg down to the quay, Luindal offered his goodbyes and promised to return by dinnertime.

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

It was several hours later when Luindal returned to the Sea-Spirit. Rôg came out from below and greeted him on deck, anxious to learn what had happened.

For quite a while, Luindal said nothing, instead pulling a plug of weed from his satchel along with a pipe as he stood by the rail blowing smoke rings and staring stubbornly at the water. When he spoke, it was with a wistful voice, “A nice habit, this.” Luindal gestured to his pipe. “I picked this up on my most recent voyage to Gondor where I had the good fortune to meet two periannath who had friends in Minas Tirith.”

“That is what keeps me here instead of sailing with my family--the chance to explore the wonders of the Sea, to meet new people and learn about how they live. I could leave any day, if I wished: just walk to the harbor and climb aboard Cirdan’s vessel. Every month, I see another shipload depart. Perhaps, I should have done that.”

In a lower voice, he confided, “Your news was taken seriously. In fact, tomorrow, before we leave, Cirdan wishes to speak with you privately.”

“Before we leave?” Rôg interrupted.

“Yes, I’m afraid that’s right…. I am to go north in two days. In fact, I am to command the ship that sails to the Bay. And somehow, we are to retrieve the Stones before the Corsairs do. If we cannot do that and they get there first, we must challenge them to battle. Whatever happens, they cannot come away with that prize. It could be the death of Gondor. Cirdan says that there are few left who have experience sailing and fighting. Sadly, I happen to be one of those few.”

Luindal took another puff on his pipe before commenting. “As a youngster, I heard many tales from my mother about Elves who had such knowledge of shipbuilding and sailing that their skill was deemed an art. Even today, we sing songs that recall their golden deeds. Only now these Elves are gone, and it is left to me.”

Luindal stared over at Rôg, “These Snowmen of yours….they should have had you fly to Minas Tirith and ask the Men for help. It is their age now, not mine. I thought I had seen my last fighting when the Ring War ended. I know this must be done and I will do my best, but I wish it might be different. The last time an Elven ship was sent to the Bay, everyone aboard perished.”

“Luindal, I am sorry for that other Elven ship,” Rôg interrupted. “And sorry also that this burden must fall to you who do not wish to carry it. But, the Corsairs have made the lives of the Lossoth miserable and I feared they would do the same to others. The Snowmen cannot wait for Men to travel north. Elessar’s help would have come too late.”

“I understand,” his friend nodded. “You were right to do as you did. With these Stones, the Corsairs could force their will on many. I will not speak of my feelings again. And I promise you that I will do everything in my power to stop the Corsairs from seizing these Stones. By right, they do not even belong to the Elves, but to Elessar. Come now. Let us talk as friends and have some dinner. We will need all the strength we can muster over the next few weeks.”

With that exchange, the companions turned and went below, where Rôg had already set out a meal for them to share.

The conversation finally turned to their impending trip to the north as Luindal noted, "I have no fear of getting there. The Stars will guide us north. It should take only a week or so, once we put out to Sea. I wish it were earlier in the year. Yet, there is still time to make it through. It is what happens afterwards that bothers me. Whatever we do must happen soon or we run the risk of being trapped over the winter, or wrecking the ship. I do not want to repeat Arvedui's mistake; nor do I want to spend months battling Corsairs, of whom I personally know nothing other than the unpleasant tales I've heard from you and Mithadan."

Luindal fingered a piece of food and pushed it aside. Given the responsibilities weighing on his head, he had little appetite. “It's true that I can personally stand frigid weather and ice storms with little problem, and I know how to swim quite well. But knowing how to swim is a bit different than diving down to the bottom of the Bay and somehow locating ancient objects that have been lost over a thousand years. Once we find them, we can use a winch to heave up the Stones. It is locating them, and attaching the straps and ropes that remains the main problem. I have no ideas of my own."

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

Pio’s post - 4th post for game

Rôg had listened closely to Luindal as he spoke. As sometimes happens, a word caught his attention, sending his thoughts down rambling paths. . . . swim . . . Something he had seen on his explorations with Bear, his Lossoth guide, niggled at the edges of memory. He paused in mid-chew, his eyes fixed on his plate. With his fork, he traced a pattern in the thin pool of gravy on the flat of the dish. A sleek figure in vague outline seemed to move beneath his hand. He could not quite make it out before it disappeared beneath the coalescing sauce. His journal! The entry would be there if he could just remember when he’d written it.

‘I have no ideas of my own . . .’ he heard Luindal trail off in a half question. He took a breath and refocused on the Elf across from him. ‘Give me a little time. There is something I cannot quite recall right now. It may be of some help . . .’

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

Child’s post - 5th post for game

At each churning motion of the Bay, the waves swelled and crashed down against the ship’s bow, with water flying up so high that it came flooding over the deck. Despite the run off into the drains and over the side of the hull, Luindal still found himself standing ankle deep in water. Rushing from one end of the ship to the other, he barked out orders to his crew to strike the mainsail, hoist the storm sail in its stead, and drop the sea anchor over the side to provide needed weight.

Despite the heaving of the sea, the ship managed to stay upright as they struggled forward into the Ice Bay. At least the Spirit was carrying a heavy ballast, a special precaution he’d taken knowing that they’d likely encounter poor weather on the trip. Things had gone well for their first week on the open seas, but once he crossed into the Bay the heavens had opened with torrential rains and wind. It almost seemed that the Bay itself was unwilling to open its treasures to these curious outlanders, however well intentioned they might be.

The plain fact was that Luindal did not know too much about the local territory or conditions. He was used to living close to the land or water, and it bothered him that he had so little understanding of the place that he was now in. He hoped Rôg was right and that a number of the most trustworthy Lossoth would be willing to help. Their chances for success would be much greater if they could only get the local people to aid them. He grimly reminded himself of the fact that, if the Elves and Men had simply accepted the counsel of the Snowmen who had warned them not to try and sail, many lives would have been spared, to say nothing of the Stones themselves.

He glanced around at his crew to make sure that they were holding up in the storm; they were all brave hearted Elves but only a few had real experience on sailing ships. This was apparently true of Rôg as well. The greenish tinge on Rôg’s face suggested that he would rather not be on this heaving ship.

A ferocious blast of wind came scudding down from the north, hitting the vessel broadside. The ship lurched sidewise but thankfully recovered, and after swinging around halfway, continued inching into the harbor. Luindal cast a wary eye up to the mainmast. He hoped that the lines would hold and that the mast would stand tall and firm. The last thing he needed was a cracked spar.

As the winds lessened and the Spirit sailed into shallow waters, Luindal instructed the helmsman to take care not to bring them too close to the banks of ice, which lined the shore and already projected out into the Bay. In just a few more weeks, the Bay would freeze over even more, making it very difficult to navigate at all.

Out of the corner of his eye, on the far side of the Bay, Luindal caught sight of another large sailing vessel, this one very different in appearance than his own. She bore a strange black flag above her mast, with what looked like a exotic heraldic device imprinted on the material. He spied a number of men and a woman or two wearing thick fur coats, probably members of the Corsair crew; most of them had dark hair and brown or olive skin. He was too far away to pick out the expressions on their faces. But he had a feeling that they did not look too happy at the moment.

[piosenniel]

DEDICATED CHARACTER


5.) Taralphiel – Lossoth(Snowman) male – anti-Corsair

NAME: Freyn

AGE: 52

RACE: Human, Lossoth

GENDER: Male


WEAPONS: Freyn does not carry weapons for war, as it is not his skill or desire. He carries two small daggers, one around his waist on his belt, the other in his boot. Also on his belt is a curved blade, similar to a scimitar, but the most it is used for is cutting and gutting fish and other meat.

APPEARANCE: Freyn still manages to keep a ruddy build, though his face has its fair share of lines. He is clothed thickly in furs, but not so much that it hinders his movement. His boots are fur lined but are dyed dark leather.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Freyn is an even-minded and kind spirit, which sometimes takes others aback, given his strong appearance. He is often called to positions of leadership due to his reasoning skills, but seldom takes up the position unless he has to. He would rather let other people show their mettle than have them rely on an aged person such as himself. He is also a very peace-loving man, and has rarely raised a weapon against another person.

HISTORY: Freyn has lived all his life in the Ice Bay of Forochel. His family has seldom left this place, so his skills and knowledge of his home would be valuable to someone unfamiliar to the region.

~*~

Taralphiel’s post

“Hmmm…today should prove to be interesting…”

Freyn rolled his shoulder slowly, before stretching his arms out wide and letting out a bellow of a yawn before the front of his home. His wife was in the nearest room, mixing some warm soup for breakfast.

“What makes you say that, love?” She smiled up at him, slowly turning her spoon.

“I have that feeling, it hardly ever steers me wrong. We are in for a change, love. Perhaps a very good one. I cannot tell just yet…”

She looked back at her pot “Everyone here would agree we need a good change. The only things to blow in here have been those Corsair ships. Those I do not like…”

Freyn sighed. “Aye, I do not know what they are up to, I’ve not been so fortunate to find out. I do know they bring a bad air and a misfortune that works against what we already have…”

Freyn walked down through the light new snow, peering out over the Bay. Few ships or even small boats were there, the ice was already packed thick around the Bay and could crush them through the night. This morning was particularly rough, and the clouds frowned angrily over the white coastline, turning them a grey hue. Freyn had felt a storm come in during the night, so this was no surprise to him. Through the winds and soupy mist, Freyn laboured to see anything with his ageing eyes. But he let out a grumble when he turned away from the ocean.

“I must be dreaming... I think there may be a ship out there. By the look of it, it is definitely no Corsair vessel. How strange…”

[piosenniel]

DEDICATED CHARACTER


6.) Orofaniel – Lossoth(Snowman) male – anti-Corsair

Name: Galhardir (GalHaaardir)

Age: In his middle thirties

Race: Lossoth

Gender: Male

Appearance: Galhardir looks younger than he is; his hair is slightly blonde, and his curls reaches his broad shoulders. His eyes are big and round. They are however, hidden underneath two masculine and wavy eyebrows. This brings a slight shadow to his face although his merry laugh can overcome it.

Galhardir is of normal height, and his propositions are rather rare; long legs while his upper part of his body is rather short. His neck is hidden by his hair, so one really doesn’t notice that it is rather long. His hands are small, but work very well- much better than expected.

Weapons: Galhardir doesn't use any weapon regularly. He uses though, his knives quite often to cut things out from the ice along the shores. But that's basically it. Galhardir had never been a fighter and he doubt he'll ever be, even though his desire to stop Corsairs and their interference with traditional ways is rather high.

Personality/Strengths/Weaknesses: Galhardir is a very tolerant man. He doesn’t judge people for their actions, rather their personality. Galhardir is a man of justice. He doesn’t like seeing people treated unfairly. He tried to live up to his own expectations, although some times it may go very wrong. He often find himself disappointed of himself. Especially when he has failed to do something he thought he was capable of doing.

Galhardir tries not to act too hurriedly without thinking things trough especially not when it comes to serious matters. Some times, however feelings get too much involved and he has difficulties controlling his temper. He is not easily angry, although he is very sensitive toward certain matters.

He has very charismatic and quite charming. He works well with others, especially the people he know well. His social skills are amazing to watch; when he sees people on the "outside" he does everything he can to bring them into the warmth. (He probably has this from his father). His kindness is well known among his own people. They respect him because of his hospitality and concern for others. However, even Galhardir isn’t happy about the Corsairs wandering about the bay. He is absolutely one of those who cannot stand the Corsairs interfering with their society. Especially when they treat the Lossoth like slaves and make them work for them. He’d very much like not to see another corsair ever again.

Galhardir love for his nephew is not a secret. He doesn’t deny that he loves to wander around on the ice with his nephew either. Therefore he does this as often as he can. Rodhal, which is his name, is following him everywhere he goes. Well, at least when his father allows it.

History: Galhardir has never know much about the outside world, part of it because he's spent all his life wandering about the shores of the ice bay. When he was a young boy however, he remembers that the old ones used to talk about the intruders that came over sea and sought their help. It had never been to Galhardir liking though. Even though tales were told, some of them seemed quite exiting and daring; he's never been tempted to leave his home. He feels the very same about the situation today.

Galhardir was raised by his father and his older brother, Gonlahr , since his mother died in Galhardir early years.

As a child, Galhardir and Gonlahr used to run about the ice bay, feeling the cold snow about their feet. They also made their own shelters made by snow where they sometimes slept. Their father praised their independency and often joined them in the shelters they had made by their own. Usually though, the shelters were not made for harsh weather and would only last for a day or two, depending on the season, although the Ice bay remained icy. However, the wind and its strength were different from time to time.

When Galhardir reached the age of 19, Gonlahr was then in his early twenties, their father passed away. The two remaining young men, (yes for indeed, the boys that we once knew had been replaced with stealth bodies of two young fine men) had now lost both their parents and they sought their own future by themselves. They moved further up the shores of the Ice Bay where they got time to grieve over their loss. It was indeed a great loss for them.

Slowly, however, they managed to get over the loss of their father and moved slightly down the shores again. Here they settled and they started building new, bigger and much stronger shelters than before -something they had done since they first started walking.

Galhardir older brother, Gonlahr, also soon found his future wife. The three of them were very good friends in the beginning, although Gunnhild, which was her name, married Gonlahr three years later. This to Gonlahr’s amazement, didn't Galhardir approve of; part of it because Galhardir had feelings for Gunnhild and to see his own brother with the women he loved, devastated him. Gonlahr knew only after their marriage was a fact that his own brother Galhardir had feelings for her.

In rapidly this had gone beyond all borders, and Galhardir couldn’t help feeling alone and after that he dwelled alone, although seeing his brother occasionally.

Two years after their marriage, Gunnhild and Gonlahr got their first child; a healthy young boy that Galhardir soon cared much for. The boy was named after Gunnhild's father; Rodhal.

After Rodhal's birth the two brothers were, as you could call it; reunited. They forgot about the past, and Galhardir admitted that Gunnhild should be with Gonlahr, rather than himself- he admitted that his feelings had taken over his common sense and that he had done a terrible mistake. Gonlahr accepted this apology, but at the same time he too apologised for letting him down. From that moment they forgot about the past and decided to yet again live in brotherhood as they once had.

When Rodhal was old enough, his uncle Galhardir and his father, wandered they bay as often as the opportunity would allow it. Rodhal soon showed that he was quite fond of his uncle, and followed him around as often as he could, also when his own father wasn't at present.

----------

7.) Orofaniel’s carry along character – Lossoth child

Name: Rodhal – son Gonlahr, of Nephew of Galhardir

Age: 9

Race: Lossoth

Gender: Male

Appearance: Rodahl is very much like his mother of appearance; strong face expressions, very visible cheek bones, green eyes and freckles surrounding his small nose. His skinny legs carry him wherever he wants to go; recently just a few paces after his own uncle – who he is very fond of.

Personality/Strengths/Weaknesses: Rodhal is a very kind young man. He obeys his parents, and he doesn’t make much trouble. He loves to walk along the shores, preferably the places where the snow is thick and the ice is bright.

History: (Of such a young age not much History is to be told. But you’ll find the small amount there is in Galhardir’s History, above).

----------

Orofaniel’s post:

“Come Rodhal!” Galhardir cried as he waved his small hand towards the young lad. “We must hurry!” he continued. Rodahl ran as fast as he could with his thin legs towards his uncle.

“I’m comin’ uncle,” the boy muttered as he reached him, breathing heavily. Galhardir patted him on the shoulder. “Rodahl, you’ll get me next time…I know you will,” he said and smiled.

Ever since Rodahl could walk, the two of them had been running races. Rodhal, poor lad, had never been able to beat his uncle, since he had a far stronger body with longer legs. Everytime however, his uncle told him that he would beat him next time. “You’re too fast for me, uncle,” Rodhal said looking at him, still trying to ctah his breath. “Well, I’ve got lot of practice. You just wait, until you get a bit older. Your old uncle won’t stand a chance,” Galhardir said, smiling at his nephew. “Really?” Rodhal asked him as his eyes lightened up a bit. “Definitely,” Galhardir stated.

“You should go eat your dinner now, you’re parents are calling for you,” Galhardir said as he heard his very own brother calling for Rodahl.

“Alright then,” Rodhal said, seeming a bit disappointed. “Oh, lighten up, Rodhal. You can follow me to the harbour tomorrow. Right now, you should eat your dinner…Besides, I won't go down to it..just do some scouting on the top of the small hill. You won't miss anything, I assure you,” Galhardir said, patting the boy on the shoulder, as they both walked towards the ice hole.

“Rodhal, my dear boy, what have you and your uncle been up to today?” Gonlahr asked his son as they approached him. He greeted his brother while he smiled. “Oh, we’ve been running…” Rodhal started, with a huge smile around his face. “Those races again, I assume?” Gonlahr interrupted looking at Rodhal. “Indeed,” Galhardir confirmed. “I just told him that he ought to eat his dinner so he’ll run faster,” he then continued. “Well, your uncle is right!” Gonlahr said patting his by, leading him inside the hole. Gunnhild appeared in front of them, telling them that the food was ready.

As Galhardir turned and was about to leave, his brother asked him if he wouldn’t stay and eat with them. “Oh no, thank you brother,” he started. “I’m not hungry, although I thank you. I’m heading down to the harbour right now,” Galhardir said and went out. A rush wind hit him in the face. The wind was cold and he shuddered.

“Do you really think it’s good to go down there now?” Gonlahr asked him sounding a bit concerned for his brother. “There seems to be a storm coming up…if not here, certainly further down the bay. Maybe it’ll just hit the ocean, I’m not sure,” Gonlahr said, looking out at the sky. There were dark clouds coving the most of it, and the wind was only increasing its strength.

“I’ll take my chances,” Galhardir said, amused by his brother’s concern. “It wouldn’t surprise me, brother. The weather has never been an obstacle for you, has it now?” Gonlahr replied while laughing. “Hurry up then,” Gonlhar said and waved his brother off. But before Galhardir could make another step, Rodhal appeared. “Can’t I go with him, father?” he asked innocently. “No, the weather doesn’t look too good. You should stay at home,” Gonlahr said. He almost regretted that as he saw the boy’s face expression. “Please father…I’ve eaten my dinner,” he continued, almost sounding desperate. “Have you asked your mother?” Gonlahr then asked Rodhal. The boy nodded. “Let him come…” Galhardir then interrupted. “I promise to bring him back before night strikes,” he continued.

Silence.

“Alright then,” Gonlahr said unwillingly. Rodhal’s face lit up once again as he dressed himself in more proper clothes. “Thank you father,” he said as Gonlahr embraced his son showing both of them off. Galhardir then started to run, expecting to see his nephew in his heels almost instantly.

The harbour wasn’t far of, and they reached it, not quite out of breath yet. One could definitely see that the weather was getting worse as the cold wind hit them in their faces. Up the short hill and they could see the harbour. They stood behind a rock, so it would protect them from the roughest wind. They had a nice view over the ocean and some parts of the harbour though.

“It’s lightening!” Rodhal cried at his uncle as he spotted a short glint of light across the sea. Indeed, it had been lightening Galhardir thought, as another glint of light struck down. As they scouted to the sea, Rodhal noticed something getting closer to the harbour. It had been hard to spot before, but now it seemed quite clear. It was a ship!

“Uncle! It’s a ship! Down ‘ere!”

“What?” Galhardir muttered, looking in Rodhal’s direction. “Down ‘ere!” he continued, pointing just beneath the rock. Galhardir took some steps forward, leaning over the rock. To his big surprise there was a ship trying to make it in. The wind and the big waves were making it difficult for them. “What ship is out in weather like this?” Galhardir questioned himself.

As he leaned even more over the rock, he spotted the Corsair’s ship on the other side. Therefore, these new ones couldn’t be Corsairs, could they? He held on to that thought as he found it quite pleasing. As long as it wasn’t Corsairs….because he simply couldn’t stand another amount of corsairs interfering with their lives. “Who do you reckon' it is, uncle?” Rodhal asked, interrupting Galhardir’s thinking. “I’m not sure, boy,” he replied, still watching the ship. He could see that they had great difficulties controlling it. How would they make it into the harbour, he wondered.

“It’s not…corsairs, is it?” Rodhal then asked. His voice was thin and frightened. “Hopefully not,” Galhardir replied, feeling great anger. If it really was another ship with Corsairs he didn’t know what to think, nor do. But he wouldn’t stand still, not doing anything - that he knew for sure. He wouldn’t let them treat the Lossoth as they had treated them so far. It wasn’t acceptable, and it had to be stopped. “Oh wait…” Galhardir exclaimed. “These people are elves!” he continued. “How do you know that uncle?” Rodhal asked him with great curiosity. A slight of relief struck both of them. “The ship. I think I know when I see an Elven ship,” Galhardir muttered. “It has to be,” he then continued, overwhelmingly satisfied.

“We need to tell this to your father!” Galhardir exclaimed, fetching the boy by his arm. “Come,” Galhardir then said, starting to walk hurriedly down the short hill. As they reached the bottom, they ran as fast as their legs could possibly carry them; Rodhal was even a few paces in front of his Uncle.

[piosenniel]

DEDICATED CHARACTER


8.) Rinfanawen – Corsair Female

Name: Diera

Age: 34

Race: Corsair (Man)

Gender: Female

Appearance: Diera has shoulder-length, medium-brown hair that is usually wet or stringy because of being out at sea so often. She is shorter and thin, standing at around only 5'4. She wears tan-colored pants with a dark, blue shirt that has long, baggy sleeves stretching to her wrists. Her feet are adorned with dark brown, leather boots reaching to her knees. She also wears a leather belt of the same color. She sometimes is seen wearing a wide-brimmed, brown hat that shades her intimidating brown eyes. She has a muscular build for a thin woman and is occasionally mistaken for a male, no matter how fair of face she may be.

Weapons: Diera carries no other weapons than a long sword with a golden hilt and a small knife that she carries inside of her right boot. She originally had two knives, but one she gave to a young girl that she met once while on land. Nevertheless, she is greatly skilled in her remaining weapons.

Personality/Strengths/Weaknesses: Diera is strong, motivated by a good leader, for she fails to be one herself sometimes. This quality she hides well though due to the excessive greatness in her leader, Marreth. Diera has a strong will to succeed, and will not cease in her task until she has. She is remotely quiet around most of the crew, except those whom she has known for quite a while. She knows the seas well. Her journeys under Marreth have taken her far, and she learns whatever she can of those places which she has not traveled by looking at maps.

She hates cold weather greatly and cannot stand to be on land for a long period of time. She hates large storms, but she has never told anyone why. Though occasionally she may find herself in an unpleasant situation, she rarely ever complains. Diera pities no one; She sees no need to waste valuable time on such things. Her opinion is, "Everything happens for a reason, and everyone is in the place they are for a reason, so I feel I have no reason to feel sorry for someone who is in a situation they are meant to be in."

She may be cruel at times, but it is in her best wishes, though her wishes are sometimes for herself or her own people, and as cruel or serious as she may be, she also knows how to have a sense of humor.

She loves cooking and found a great skill in the art when she was a child. She does not find much time for it now though for she has other duties to tend to.

History: Diera was born a citizen of Gondor, but her parents died when she was a young child due to a sudden accident on land, an event which she will never speak of to anyone. She has hated the land ever since. She grew up on the sea with her uncle who captained a small, private, fishing vessel. She immediately began to love her life on the sea, and never wanted to leave it.

When Diera was 15 years old, she was captured during a sea battle between her uncle's ship and a group of pillaging corsairs. The corsairs found that she could cook, and thus made her a servant aiding the ship's chef in the kitchen. While in the kitchen she got to know another captive from her uncle's ship that she had not known well before. His name was Doyal. Doyal was made a servant on the ship, and often worked cleaning in the kitchen. Diera began a strong friendship with Doyal, and they both slowly began to rise in rank as the Corsairs gained their trust.

On this Corsair ship she met her present Captain Marreth and her CO-officer, XCorsair #2X. She found a lasting companionship with them both and has been on every vessel they were on ever since.

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

9.) Rinfanawen’s Carry-along character: Doyal

Name: Doyal

Age: 36

Race: Man (Corsair)

Gender: Male

Information: He does not fight much, for he is merely a sailor on the Corsair ship. He does, however, carry a long knife on his belt that he mainly uses for needs on the ship. He used to be a servant on a past ship, being captured in a battle on the sea, but he found favor in the Corsairs and rose in rank. Now he is a corsair in charge of the crew on the starboard side deck. He long ago befriended Diera, an officer on the ship, and has worked under her command ever since.

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

Diera's post

Diera stood in the tight hall below deck trying to concentrate on the ship and what needs needed to be met. She was cold. Long had her journey to this forgotten land in the North kept her in freezing temperatures, but she tries not to think of it very often. The ship continued to toss violently on the waves. She felt her nerves rise inside of her as she thought of the rolling waves and pouring rain outside.

As much as she tried to force her mind away from the pressing storm, the only though she could think to was the thought of the Lossoth. Strange creatures they were to her. Those who actually found comfort in such places as this land were certainly not those of her liking, but Marreth found success in them, so she had to continue to trust in the odd Snowmen of the North. Snowmen they were, indeed. Diera knew that they were sent to this land for a purpose, and perhaps that purpose was to help them recover the lost Palantiri. She only hoped.

Diera began to think strongly on the matter of the Palantiri. We've been searching for so long, she thought. Those hopeless natives have helped us little...but not anymore. As soon as this storm ends, I will take my request to Marreth to get more Lossoth to join in our search. They must help. They are the only ones who have adapted to this wretched land well enough to stay under the water long enough. Our people have suffered too much. Far too long...

Suddenly her thoughts were broken by footsteps coming down the hall. She jumped slightly, solely for the reason that she was torn so quickly from thinking, as her friend and fellow shipmate, Doyal, turned the corner. He seemed troubled as well. Water dripped from his clothing as he walked.

"It feels as if it's going to blow us over up there," Doyal sighed as he approached Diera. "The storm has picked up a bit."

Diera stared at him in shock. She spoke in great sarcasm, "Even more? Great, and I was just beginning to get my mind off of the tidal waves outside."

"What's your problem? I thought you loved the sea...more than anything, you say," said Doyal.

"There is no problem," replied Diera seriously. "I think we should get back on deck anyway now that the storm has worsened."

Diera and her shipmate began to walk towards the entrance to the deck, but they were stopped quickly by an order from Marreth...to follow him on deck. Diera said nothing of the order and did as her captain commanded. She barely made it out of the door before Marreth was at the rail and staring at what appeared to be an Elven ship on the rushing waves.

"Look there," Marreth said as he turned to Doyal and Diera. "We have company, and I fear they are up to no good."

Diera stared at the distant vessel in anger as she thought of the risk the Palantiri were in of falling into evil hands. The Elves were not going to find them...no matter what it took.

[piosenniel]

CHARACTERS NEEDED

The “good guys”….

Male Elves: 2

None should be of noble blood or from the High Noldor. They should be ordinary Elves who have made their way to the Grey Havens and are awaiting a ship to make their passage to the West.

~*~

Snowmen of Forochel working for the Elves (Male): POSITIONS FILLED - (Orofaniel; Taralphiel)

Will be Snowmen who dislike the Corsairs and their interference with traditional ways. At the beginning of the RPG will be appointed to help the Elven search party to try and locate the missing palantiri.

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

The “Bad Guys”…

Corsairs: 1 male (a trusted officer who has known the Captain a long time)

~*~

Snowman of Forochel (Male) – 2

Will already be helping the Corsairs to locate the lost palantiri and to combat the threat of the Elves. Make sure to equip yourself with a trained seal. (On this, see Marreth’s first post of the game.)

~*~

PLEASE NOTE:

If you want to be a Snowman, make sure to note you are applying to be with the Corsairs in the search.

It is assumed that the ships’ crews and the two search parties actually have many more Elves, Corsairs, and Snowmen. However, our story will focus most closely on the few characters played by the posters.

If you’d like, however, you may have a secondary “carry-along” character whom you can use or refer to in your posts: a friend or perhaps someone who works for you . Such characters may be male or female, as long as they are believable. A brief profile will be needed. If you are with the “bad guys”, your secondary character must also be a “bad guy”; you may choose a Corsair or a Snowman. If you are with the “good guys”, your secondary character will be good; pick an Elf or a Snowman.

If you want a secondary character, make sure to include this information when you paste up your initial profile and post.

[piosenniel]

Character types which would not belong: Any character type not named above.

[piosenniel]

Please use this form for creating your character to post on the discussion thread.

1.) It is a requirement that all potential game players in the Shire will have posted in The Green Dragon Inn or have played to completion an RPG on the Barrow Downs.

2.) Those who have not played before in a Shire RPG will be given preference. Final preference, though, will be at the discretion of the Game Owner.
_______________________________________

Character Description Form:

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

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

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
_______________________________________

For your character please include:

NAME:

AGE:

RACE:

GENDER:

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.):

APPEARANCE:

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):

HISTORY:

__________________________________


First post:


This is a requirement for this game. Character Descriptions without a First Post attached will be sent back to the writer. They may be submitted again, once there is a First Post to go with them.


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

FIRST POST SUGGESTIONS

Elves - Describe your efforts to battle the storm, tack down the sails and keep the ship upright and sailing, which you barely manage to do. As you sail into the Bay itself, you may catch a brief glimpse of a Corsair ship off in a side cove.

Corsairs - Describe your shock and astonishment at seeing a battered Elven ship limp into the Bay. You’re not sure where this vessel has come from or why it is here, but you fear the worst.

Lossoth – Come to the Bay and see the Elven ship as it puts in at the harbor. Describe your feelings and expectations regarding the Corsairs and the Elves. Let us know if you’re already working for the Corsairs or will soon be joining the Elves.

[piosenniel]

Again, here are the Characters Needed:

Character List

I - CORSAIRS:

Mareth – Regin Hardhammer - male
Diera – Rinfanawen – female
Doval – Rinfanawen – male carry along character

-----

Corsairs still needed:

• 1 male (a trusted officer who has known the Captain a long time)

---

First Posts for Corsairs - Describe your shock and astonishment at seeing a battered Elven ship limp into the Bay. You’re not sure where this vessel has come from or why it is here, but you fear the worst.

__________________________________


II - ELVES:

Luindal – Child of the 7th Age – male, Silvan Elf

-----

Elves still needed: (Should not be of noble blood or from the High Noldor. Should be an ordinary Elf who has made his way to the Grey Havens and is awaiting a ship to make his passage to the West.)

• 2 male

About Elves in Shire RPG's:

Please use this description from Tolkien when crafting an Elf:

Return of the King – Appendix F: Tolkien’s description for the Quendi (The Speakers) – the name given to the Elves by themselves after they first awoke in Middle-earth.

“They were a race high and beautiful, the older Children of the world, and among them the Eldar were as Kings, who now are gone: the People of the Great Journey, the People of the Stars. They were tall, fair of skin and grey-eyed, though their locks were dark, save in the golden house of Finrod; and their voices had more melodies than any mortal voice that is now heard . . .”

Please use this as a guideline for describing your Elven character’s appearance.


---

First Posts for Elf - Describe your efforts to battle the storm, tack down the sails and keep the ship upright and sailing, which you barely manage to do. As you said into the Bay itself, you may catch a brief glimpse of a Corsair ship off in a side cove.

__________________________________


III - LOSSOTH (SNOWMEN)

Hilde Halvardsdatter – Regin Hardhammer – female
Galhardir – Orofaniel – anti-Corsair (working with Elves) - male
Rodhal - Orofaniel – male 9 y/o carry-along character; Glahardir’s nephew
Freyn – Taralphiel – anti-Corsair (working with the Elves) - male

-----

Lossoth (Snowmen) still needed:

• Pro-Corsair (Will be Snowmen who are working with the Corsairs to find the palantiri in hopes of gaining wealth, influence, and power within their clans)
  
  
  • 2 males

• Anti-Corsair (Working with Elves. Will be Snowmen who dislike the Corsairs and their interference with traditional ways. At the beginning of the RPG will be appointed to help the Elven search party to try and locate the missing palantiri.)
  
  
  • NONE NEEDED - positions filled (Orofaniel; Taralphiel)

PLEASE NOTE:

If you want to be a Snowman, make sure to note you are applying to be with the Corsairs in the search.

It is assumed that the ships’ crews and the two search parties actually have many more Elves, Corsairs, and Snowmen. However, our story will focus most closely on the few characters played by the posters.

If you’d like, however, you may have a secondary “carry-along” character that you can use or refer to in your posts: a friend or perhaps someone who works for you. Such characters may be male or female, as long as they are believable. A brief profile will be needed. If you are with the “bad guys”, your secondary character must also be a “bad guy”; you may choose a Corsair or a Snowman. If you are with the “good guys”, your secondary character will be good; pick an Elf or a Snowman.

If you want a secondary character, make sure to include this information when you paste up your initial profile and post.

---

First Posts for Lossoth – Come to the Bay and see the Elven ship as it puts in at the harbor. Describe your feelings and expectations regarding the Corsairs and the Elves. Let us know if you’re already working for the Corsairs or will soon be joining the Elves.

__________________________________

[piosenniel]

The Discussion Thread is now open to take on characters.

Have Fun!

~*~ Pio

[Regin Hardhammer]

Hello Everyone and Welcome,

I would like to extend a big thank you to Pio for helping me work on this game. I am quite sure that no one has ever done an RPG based in the Ice Bay before. Just think, we will be making Barrow Downs history! Anyway I am looking forward to the start of the game. I urge all dedicated characters to check in as well and also new characters to sign up.

Your game founder,

- Regin Hardhammer

[Rinfanawen]

Hey players, this is Rin checking in. I can't wait for the game to start. It sounds so exciting! I'm looking forward to see what new characters, and new RPers will come to join in, so come on, you guys. Let's get this thing going!

[Taralphiel]

Hello everyone!

I'm also stopping in to let you all know I'm here, and very excited about starting this RP.

I think this is one of the most challenging characters I've done so far, so if I do make a few mistakes, please let me know

Tara

[Orofaniel]

Well, hello everyone!

I can't wait for this RPG to start, as I've told Regin many times before.

There are already so many interesting characters, and I know there will be more. Hopefully the spots will be filled soon so we can get this rollin'..

Until then,
Orofaniel

[Regin Hardhammer]

Hi all,

Thanks for checking in. I will be traveling back home until Sunday night and will not be able to answer any pms or post until then. Looking forward to a great game. Let's get these spots filled.

- Regin

[Niluial]

1.) Have you ever played in an RPG at the Barrow Downs? – YES/NO - Which one? Yes, I have played in Reclaiming the City, Resistance and Hunted. I also played in The Green Dragon Inn and The White Horse Inn.

2.) How many RPG’s on the Barrow Downs are you currently involved in? List them, please: I’m currently not involved in any.

3.) Have you posted in The Green Dragon Inn – YES/NO: indeed, I have.
_______________________________________

Elwë my main character – Male Elf

NAME: Elwë

AGE: 733

RACE: Silvan Elf

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: A long, smooth crossbow made from solid walnut heartwood and its arms from vented steel.

APPEARANCE: Elwë is the average height of an elf (which tends to be rather tall) with pale, fair skin. His hair is dark and straight, a few inches past his shoulders. His eyes are a pale grey with a tint of blue in them, they often remind others of clear water. His clothing consists of many whites, blues, greens and browns and are loose and flowing.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Elwë comes across as rather cold and stand-offish to those he is not close to. Many think he is unfriendly when they first meet him. He has a mysterious, quiet and secretive nature and he tends to spend a lot of time with himself. To those who are close to his heart he is loyal to and ever so kind.

Although Elwë is calm and quiet he has a free, daring and adventurous spirit and yearns for as much adventure as he can get. He has a passion for nature and loves being surrounded by remarkable scenery. Above all he loves the ocean and sailing, for sailing is a grand adventure and pure bliss.

HISTORY: Elwë grew up in Lothlórien and lived there for 578 years. He spent all his young days with Edonire his brother and Lenile his best friend. They spent every day with each other pretending to go on dangerous adventures, they would pretend to travel the seas and find priceless treasures. When Elwë reached his coming of age at 33, Edonire and Lenile decided to go on a great adventure, not a fake one but a real one! Unfortunately Elwë was forced to stay behind as his mother become terribly ill and he had to be there, by her side.

Years had passed and Edorine and Lenile never did return. Lenile had a younger sister named Andtuariel who was filled with the same adventured spirit as Lenil her brother. As the years went by Andtuariel and Elwë grew close, they were the closest friends. But at the beginning of the Forth Age Andtuariel and Elwë decided to sail with both their families to the Undying Lands. They had reached the Grey Havens when and met a wise Silvan elf by the name of Luindal. Luindal had told Elwë about the help he was doing for Celeborn; the great adventures he had been in while doing important errands and shipping the supplies. Elwë yearned to be a part of this world, to lead the life Luindal had been leading, even if it was partly the life Luindal was leading.

After much explaining to Andtuariel about how he could not face the Undying Lands with all this spirit and adventure inside of him she let Elwë stay behind, or so she planned. But later she pleaded with him to let her accompany him to all his whereabouts. And so both their families went sailing into the West but left Andtuariel and Elwë in the hands of Luindal.
__________________________________

Andtuariel my carry along character – Female Elf

NAME: Andtuariel

AGE: 725

RACE: Silvan Elf

GENDER: Female

WEAPONS: A small silver dagger that is slightly curved with ancient Elvish writings on its handle.

APPEARANCE: Andtuariel is tall and slender and moves with grace. Her hair is unlike many Elves, it is of browns and reds and is rather wavy. Andtuariel’s eyes are a forget me not blue and gleam with expression. Andtuariel’s lips are blood red and she often bites her bottom lip when concentrating or when nervous. And when she smiles it is only slightly curved but warms anyone’s heart. Her skin is pale but her checks are rosy.

Although she is a tom boy she loves to walk about in dresses of silk, satin and chiffon and other soft, elegant materials. One would often find her wearing whites, reds and blues.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Andtuariel is a very outspoken woman who is demanding and very strong willed. She will go out of her way to make sure she gets what she wants and at most times wont take no for an answer. Although she is strong and confidant she is very kind and has a very caring nature for all of those around her.

Many find her to be too closed off and too enigmatic for their liking, but she disagrees with them and knows it’s her stubbornness that annoys many. The more pretentious side of Andtuariel is her inquisitiveness. She loves to ask too many questions and always wants to know everything about everybody and yet hasn’t got the patience to listen or find out more.

She is very genuine and indisputable. Although she is strong she is very sweet to almost everyone. Many find her wise all though she knows she still has lots to learn as she is only the young age of 725.

HISTORY: Andtuariel lived in Lothlórien for 570 years or so. She had a rather lonely upbringing and was even lonelier when her brother disappeared when he went on an adventure and never did returned. She never did have peace in her heart for she never did know what happened to him. As time went by she became very close to her brothers best friend Elwë and through out the years they supported each other and were there for one another. Although she wasn’t as adventurous as Elwë, she still did love adventure a lot. She wished to leave Lothlórien some time and embark on a wonderful journey with Elwë.

At the beginning of the Forth Age Andtuariel and Elwë decided to sail with both their families to the Undying Lands. When they had all reached the Grey Havens Elwë decided to stay and instead join Luindal in the shipping business. Andtuariel was about to leave but couldn’t, she had no choice but to stay with him and so she did.
__________________________________

Niluial's post

Elwë shuddered as the brawling, icy wind punched him with a giant fist of cold as the thunder roared and crackled above him. The prying fingers of the cold groped through the layers of woollen undergarments, forcing his cold touch upon him. He took a darting look at Andtuariel who was standing with her hands clutched on the railing of the ship and her head hanging over the edge. Her face was as white as a ghost, her lovely rosy cheeks were gone. Andtuariel's eyes that were normally filled with expression were now sad and lifeless. Elwë always knew it was a bad idea to take her with him; she missed her family greatly and was seasick permanently. He knew he should have forced her to stay but she refused to:

”I will go where I wish! I need adventure, you know how I long for adventure, how I dream to fight for good, just as much as you long for it. I may be a woman but I am strong. Please…” Andtuariel pleaded with Elwë.

“Andtuariel, I said no! You can go look after our families, I’ll be back. You could endanger yourself, be harmed then what am I to do?”

He remembered how stubborn she was the day he said she would stay behind. He couldn’t make her stay; she threatened to follow which would have been even more dangerous.

Elwë wiped the rain off his face with his bleeding hands and sighed deeply. He dragged once more at the ropes of the sails but they were too big and heavy and refused to move. He winced as the ropes bit into his flesh which caused more blood and pain. Elwë glanced at the running tide and saw a massive wave break, the water sprayed onto the deck, sending Elwë and Andtuariel to the floor and wetting all the sailors that were hard at work, pumping water and wrestling with the sails on the deck.

Elwë stood and dragged himself up from the floor with difficulty, as his clothes were drenched. He peered at the wild sea again but this time he didn't only see mist and lightening but something else. Elwë squinted and sighed miserably, “I was hoping they wouldn’t be here so soon.”

Andtuariel peered at the ship in the distance in wonder, “who is it?” she paused while studying the black sailed dromonds with a puzzled expression on her face, she clutched onto the rails of the ship, "Its not the C.. Cor...?" Andtuariel stuttered.

“Of course it is the ship of the corsairs!” Elwë snapped. “We were expecting them, didn't you know? You can be so naïve and to think you have spent so much time on a ship and have read so much! We are here to keep the Corsairs from getting the Palantíri!” he shook his head and rolled his eyes.

He glanced at their bobbing ship once again in wonder and curiosity. Deep down he was awed by the corsairs, amazed at their will and perseverance, all for the Palantiri. They had left their Southern Climate, into the cold to search for the stones. Even with this wonder for them, he knew that they were dangerous, that they would not hesitate to kill them all.

[Arry]

Hello! I would very much like to play in this game as an Elf.

Thanks, Arry

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Character Description Form:

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

--- Yes – Bloodstained Elanor (ongoing)

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

--– 1

List them, please:

--- Bloodstained Elanor

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

--- Yes
_______________________________________

Main Character:

NAME: Carandû

AGE: 631

RACE: Elf, Sindarin, originally from Imladris

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: Longbow of mountain yew; hip-hung quiver on the right side; plain short sword in a leather scabbard on his left hip. Has been trained to use a spear, but does not own one.

APPEARANCE: 5’11”; dark hair, shoulder length, pulled back with a thin leather strip; twinkling grey eyes; stocky for an Elf (many evenings spent in the harbor-side taverns tipping back the northern ales); soft, worn black boots; comfortable dark colored breeches held up with a brown leather, brass buckled belt; long sleeved, loose, tunics in white or tans; and a serviceable grey-green cloak brought with him from Imladris.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: For an Elf, he is a merry fellow. His eyes are crinkled at their outer edges from the smile that often graces his still fair face. He’s a loyal crewman, dependable, and able at any job thrown him. He is a fair hand with his weapons; will not hesitate to speak up if he feels a plan offered is foolish. Weakness, eh? – Perhaps an overfondness for spirits of the drinkable sort, and batter-fried fish with those lovely overland imports from the western borders of the Shire – taters.

HISTORY: Born in III 2410 in Rivendell. In III 2510, following her tragedy of the previous year, Elrond's wife,Celebrian, took ship and sailed West. Accompanying her to Mithlond were a troop of dedicated warriors from Imladris, among them Carandû, a name since chosen by himself (He was called, before he chose to stay in Mithlond, Gillas - that being his birth name.) He was young enough at the time of that journey to refuse the Lady’s kind offer to take her protectors West with her, though many of his fellows did go on the ship that bore her.

Three of his fellows, all about his age stayed with him, and of those three, two returned to Rivendell within the year, and one stayed on - Annûlas, his younger, by two years, brother. The two brothers took a liking to sailing and have crewed on many of the local ships that make the trading runs along the northern shores. They are favorites in the Inns and small taverns that cater to sailing men. Their voices make quite lovely harmonies when they sing, and they are great collectors of sea-going songs favored by mariners.

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

Carry-along Character:

NAME: Annûlas (Annû, for short)

AGE: 629

RACE: Elf, Sindarin, originally from Imladris

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: Longbow of mountain yew; hip-hung quiver on the right side; does not bear a sword, but has a thick oaken club with a knot at its end that has knocked the tar out of many a person or beast that crossed him.

APPEARANCE: 6’ 1”; dark hair, mid back length, braided in a thick plait worn down his back and tied off with a leather strip; twinkling grey eyes, much as his brother’s are, but a little deeper in shade; trim and wiry muscled; soft, worn black boots; comfortable dark colored breeches held up with a woven rope, brass buckled belt; long sleeved, loose, tunics in white or tans; and a grey-green cloak, twin to his brother’s, brought with him from Imladris.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: He, too, is a merry fellow. And smiles just as easily as his brother. He’s a loyal crewman and dependable. He has no fear of heights and is often the first to offer to go up the ladders when needed. He prides himself on his expertise with knots. Like his brother, he is a fair hand with his weapons. Prefers to let his brother take the lead in things – but is often wheedled into doing so against his will and better judgement by his sibling.

HISTORY: Born in III 2412 in Rivendell. Accompanied his brother to the Grey Havens when Celebrian took ship and sailed West. He has learned to love life on the ships as much as his older brother. But his greatest love is when they have time to sing together.

__________________________________


Arry’s post

Carandû clamped his wide-brimmed hat down firmly on his head, tying it securely, as he left the protection of the hatch way. The hat was of tightly woven fiber, covered with thin, cured sealskin. It kept the rain from his eyes as it pounded down on the ship, but did little to save his face from being drenched by the waves as they crossed the bar into the bay. It was his oilskin pants and overcoat that protected him from the main onslaught of the frigid waters. Inside the haven of the ice bay, the waters were at least a little calmer. Though, you can’t tell by him!, he thought, eyeing the figure of Rôg clinging for dear life to the ship’s railing as his stomach protested the mixing of the his last meal with the heaving of the ship. Carandû’s earlier offer to tie the man to the railing so that he wouldn’t pitch overboard had been waved away by Rôg. It had been with some reluctance that he’d left the green-tinged fellow on deck, but then he’d noted the deathlike grip Rôg had on the railing. And apparently it had kept him safe from the overwashing waves.

Annû, he could see, was up on the main cross spar, shinnying back toward the rope ladder with its ratlines that ran down the length of the mast. The sails, on his side, were secured. He saw his brother make some sign to the other who had gone up with him – it looked, though as if the other one had also managed to secure his sections and needed no assist. Carandû waved for his brother to come to him once his feet had hit the deck. ‘I’ve brought your boots and a pair of dry socks,’ he said, pulling Annû beneath the shelter of a small overhang near the wheelhouse. ‘Get them on before your toes fall off!’ Annû grinned at his older brother and ducked a friendly cuff as he replied with a ‘Yes, ammë!’

‘I saw something when I was up top,’ Annû said, jamming his feet into his boots. ‘Over there, as the gull flies, from where Rôg is hanging on. To the right, where that glacier comes down to the lip of the bay.’ He pulled his brother to the railing, slipping along on the slippery and still wave-tossed deck. Narrowing their eyes, they peered off toward a shallow cove at the edge of the bay.

‘She’s a trim vessel,’ grunted Carandû, his brow furrowing at the far-off sight of the Corsair ship. ‘I’ll give her that. They’re well anchored, I see.’ He pursed his lips and hmmphed at the sight, wondering how familiar the captain of the vessel was in these far northern waters.

‘I know,’ commented his brother, picking up on his thought. ‘They don’t keep moving her along the coastline or pull her out to deeper waters, she’ll be bound fast in the ice by week’s end.’

‘Easier for us, though, if she does get stuck!’ Carandû turned questioningly toward his brother. ‘You know – in all the berths we’ve had with Luindal, I can’t recall us ever coming this far north on the Sea-Spirit at this time of year. Old Captain Ferrin’s ship – yes; Remember? He liked to come up in the early spring before the thaws, get the first of the thick winter pelts in trade.’ He looked expectantly at his brother.

‘Oh, no! You’re not giving me the job of questioning the Captain! You do it; you’re the one who thought of it.’ Annû pulled his jacket tighter about him and nodded toward the stairway leading below-deck.

Carandû sighed, and nodded he’d think of some way to approach the subject. ‘But first let’s sample a small taste of the Spirit’s spirits; fortify my courage, so to speak. I hear tell that Cap’n Luindal’s laid in some of the sweet, fiery brandy-wine from The Star and Swan.’

Before turning to go, the two offered their assistance to Rôg who seemed to mumble something in the way of an affirmative. Arms hooked through his as support, the trio made their way to the stair and down.

[Lalwendë]

Hope this is all laid out as it should be! I'm hoping to play as a Pro-Corsair (bad-guy) Lossoth.

Character Description Form:

1.) Have you ever played in an RPG at the Barrow Downs? – NO

2.) How many RPG’s on the Barrow Downs are you currently involved in?
None

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

For your character please include:

NAME: Tarn

AGE: 37

RACE: Lossoth (Men), Pro-Corsair

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: Tarn does not possess any finely wrought weapons of war, however, the tools of his trade have proved more than adequate for defensive purposes. He is equipped with two knives: one long and sharp, the other serrated, for skinning and cutting. He also has a harpoon, from his time whaling. Tarn is also known, and feared, for his fists.

APPEARANCE: Tarn is a tall man, and of average build, yet he looks much larger due to his bulky layers of clothing. He wears felt breeches with over-breeches of pale coloured hide, tucked into long, heavy boots. His layers of clothing include a linen undershirt, a thick woollen jersey, a leather waistcoat, an old, weathered overcoat made of reindeer leather and a wolfskin cloak about his shoulders. His hands are large and he wears rabbit skin gloves, the fur on the inside to provide protection from the cold. The four remaining toes on his left foot have turned black from a severe case of frostbite. He has dark hair, with a smattering of grey at the temples; he wears his hair to his shoulders and it is unkempt and wiry. Tarn has a square face, with a broken nose, and a wry smile which reveals his remarkably white teeth. His eyes are deep set and dark blue, and he has a habit of squinting, from the many times he has been abroad in the depths of the winter storms.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Tarn is a useful man to have around, as he is a skilled seal trainer, and he also has a deep understanding of the environment of the Ice Bay. He is a man who will not run from a challenge or a fight, although he is able to turn on the charm when needed. Tarn’s biggest weakness is that he is prone to arrogance, and he resents the Lossoth chieftains deeply, thinking himself superior to them. Tarn attracts other malcontents, and though he prefers to be alone, and is quite aloof in their company, he is often at the centre of plotting and scheming.

HISTORY: Tarn is of pure Lossoth blood. His forefathers were born, lived and died on the ice. He was brought up by his grandfather due to the brutal, but not unusual, deaths of his parents. Tarn believes that they died while trying to take one of the great white bears during a hunt. He was a child at the time, and it was natural that his grandfather should take responsibility for his upbringing. A tough man but with a deeply hidden soft heart, he taught the boy all the hunting, survival and fighting skills that would see him through life, but he also took the time to tell him many of the old tales, and to make sure he could read.

At sixteen, Tarn was an adult and began to take a full part in the life of the extended family, but soon, his grandfather passed away. The headship of the family passed to the next elder, Tarn’s Great Uncle, a man who had a weakness for the drink. Tarn’s resentment grew each day he toiled hard, only to see his share become smaller while his Great Uncle’s nose grew redder and his temper shorter. After a while, he took off on his own, so much had he grown to loathe his Great Uncle. He found work doing jobs for other groups of Lossoth, including journeys on whaling ships, but he always felt isolated and excluded. He saved all that he could until he was able to buy his own sled and team of dogs. From then on by choice he became increasingly isolated from the rest of the Lossoth as he went on his own independent hunting trips, returning with all manner of furs and hides.

In the past few years he has taken to training seals to search for treasure amongst the shipwrecks. He noticed it was a good chance to gain himself much wealth, and was determined to learn the skill. This determination, coupled with a natural understanding of animals, did indeed prove to be valuable, and he has profited from his latest venture, pulling several treasures from the ocean.

When the Corsairs arrived, he tried to keep a distance from them at first, being naturally wary, but upon seeing how most of the Lossoth appeared to be uneasy about the incomers, he decided that perhaps they might not be so bad after all. To Tarn, something that most of the Lossoth disliked, especially something that the chieftains disapproved of, must surely be a good thing.

One morning not long after the arrival of the Corsairs, he decided to show off his seals, who managed to retrieve some silver plate from the ocean in full view of the Corsair captain. Later that day he was invited to speak to the captain, who was interested to know if Tarn could help him locate the treasure he sought. As Tarn spoke to the Corsair he was impressed by his authority, and began to think that this kind of power was something he would like himself. The captain did not really need to make many promises, as Tarn had already silently decided he would like to work with the powerful Corsairs, but just one look at the swords and knives that the captain promised was enough to get Tarn's allegiance.

*********

Carry on Character:

NAME: Thynne Tarlsson

AGE: 14

RACE: Lossoth (Men), Pro-Corsair

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: One bone handled pocket knife

APPEARANCE: Thynne is a little more well-fed than most low status Lossoth youths. He spends a fair amount of his intelligence in seeking out the tasty food he relishes. Thynne is quite strong, but is not tall. He has dark hair which he keeps trimmed short using his pocket knife; this makes his hair uneven. He has a small scar on his chin as a result of an accident with a harpoon. Thynne wears plain breeches, two heavily patched woollen jumpers, one with an attached knitted hood, and an old bearskin cape. These are his only clothes and they were not made for him, so they are both well worn and slightly too big for him.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Thynne is intelligent, although he often puts this to use in the wrong way, trying to get what he wants rather than what others want of him. He is very subdued, learned from years of submitting to the whims of his drunken father, but he is willing to turn his hand to most tasks. His weakness is a good meal.

HISTORY: Thynne has been brought up by his father since he was five, although his mother and sister live close to the Ice Bay, and he sees them now and then. When his father left his mother, he took Thynne with him, as he could see the boy would be useful in helping him earn money. His mother was too scared to say otherwise. Thynne has spent most of his life carrying out whatever work his father wishes of him, from gutting fish to carrying messages.
__________________________________


Lalwendë's post

Tarn looked out of the door at the brewing storm with an angry look on his face. He had to go and feed his seals and leave the warmth of his new stone hut behind him. He felt such pride in having been able to build this humble dwelling that he did not like to leave it. One of his cronies, Talsson, was slumped by the fire in a drunken stupor. They had been playing knucklestones and Talsson had lost his money to Tarn. The agreement had been that if Talsson wanted another game then he would have to offer the labour of his son, Thynne, to Tarn. The man, drunk as he was, knew that the labour would not be handsomely rewarded, and he knew that he could lose the profits he normally gained from hiring out the lad, but he would not lose face, so the deal was done.

Thynne, a well-fed fourteen year old, sat in the corner of the hut on a pile of furs, staring at Tarn, wondering whether his new job was a good thing or a stroke of bad luck. Tarn looked at the lad and motioned with his head towards the door.

“Get yourself wrapped up, there‘s a storm coming in. You will come with me now and start by learning how to feed the seals” Tarn watched as the youth scrambled into his warm clothes. “I suppose you can swim?”.

Tarn was the seal handler, but he rarely went into the water these days. He paid those with little hope, such as Thynne, to do this for him. He himself had survived by carrying out hard labour such as this when he left the family, so he didn’t see any harm in others making a living this way. Sometimes, he thought he was doing them a favour. If he’d had any children of his own then he’d have had them working with the seals as soon as they could walk, and that would be for free. But this lad looked strong and bright enough, he might have hired him anyway, had his father not been such a drunken idiot and offered him at half the going rate.

*********

Tarn stood a bucket of fish on a flat rock by the side of the water and let out a long, piercing whistle. The lad pursed his lips and tried to copy him. Tarn laughed. “I suggest you get some practice in, though I doubt you’ll ever truly master it the way I have. Watch me.”

Again he whistled, and ten sleek bodies came towards them through the water. The dog-like faces of the seals surfaced; they could smell the fish and came right up to the edge of the rock, circling and crying. The smallest one heaved itself out of the water, and his head bobbed up and down expectantly.

“This is the youngest, I think you could start with him,“ Tarn said to the lad, who had stepped back a little from the creature. “No need to be afraid of him, he’s learning just like yourself”. Tarn put one of the silvery fish into Thynne’s hand and the lad gingerly offered it to the young seal, who carefully took it, and slipped back into the water. Tarn quickly threw more fish out to the older seals, to keep them from taking the fish from the youngster.

“Why did he have a golden tag in his ear?” said the boy, suddenly finding his voice.

“That,” said Tarn, “Is how they are identified as my own seals. As soon as one is born I put the golden ring into his ear, and then anyone knows that he is mine. If one were to be hunted, then that hunter would have to pay dearly, probably with more wealth than that of five chieftains.” Thynne looked shocked. “But that, thankfully, has never yet come to pass. And these fine sailors, they seem to appreciate their worth as much as I do.” Tarn looked solemnly towards the cliffs, where the masts of the Corsair ship were rolling to and fro in the swell.

Tarn admired the Corsairs, with their proud bearing and fierce talk. He was eager to do well for them, partly because he might get greater rewards, but also because he wished to earn their respect. He was starting to form notions of making some kind of allegiance with them. Tarn did not exactly fawn around the Corsairs, as grovelling was not in Tarn's nature, but he made sure to impress upon them how invaluable he was, and made great show of both his skill with the seals and what he considered his status among the other Lossoth.

Tarn and Thynne threw out more fish, and several seals came out of the water, nudging Tarn’s legs with affection, which prompted him to scratch their necks. He started to do a few of his training rituals while the lad stood and watched, shivering in the driving rain and wind. He was hungry and licked the remains of the fish from his gloves. Having finished this, he squinted out to sea, where his attention was caught by a ship being tossed about on the waves.

Tarn soon noticed that the lad wasn’t paying him any attention. “Look sharp, lad, or it’s just the diving you’ll be doing. Thought you were brighter than that.” He looked up to see what Thynne was peering at and he soon picked out the shape of a white ship trying to tack into the bay.

“By the stars…”

[Phervasaion]

I have a profile for a pro-corsair lossoth. Hope it’s good.

1.) Have you ever played in an RPG at the Barrow Downs? – YES
Which one? Reclaiming the city, Hunted and Last Ride of the Heir.

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

List them, please: None


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

For your character please include:

NAME: Rydoc

AGE: 39

RACE: Human, Lossoth

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: Rydoc has no real weaponry, and his knife is the only thing classed as a weapon that he carries around with him. He also has an old rusty sword, which he keeps at his house, but if he were to hit someone with it then the sword would most likely break, rather than the person beneath it.

APPEARANCE: Slightly shorter than the average height, but Rydoc is quite a bulky fellow, so if anyone needed to do some lifting and carrying of large and heavy objects, then Rydoc would be their man. He has many layers of clothing, but his warmest piece is a coat made from the pelt of a white wolf.

He has dark hair and a brown eye colour, and he also has some facial hair, which helps to keep his face warm in the extreme weather conditions at the Ice bay. In fact, Rydocs fingers and toes go numb very often due to the cold, even though he is extremely precautious about how warm his clothing is.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Rydoc is quite a kind and talkative person to be around, if you stop on his good side, and seems to get along with most people. He has a tendency to speak what he thinks and believes that he has a right to express his own opinion, and disagree with other peoples. Rydoc, along with quite a few other Lossoth’s, is not happy with the actions of the chieftains at present, and would like to see them overthrown.

Rydoc is definitely a useful person to be around as he can build, hunt and also has knowledge in seal training (thanks to his friend Torn). But, even though he is good with manual and physical work, reading is not his strong point. Do not, however, mistake him for being unintelligent as he has the potential to be very clever, but he simply hasn’t used the potential yet.

HISTORY: Rydoc was born by the Ice bay and he grew up, leaning many of the ways in which he would need to survive. His father was his mentor and he taught him most things including reading, which he still hasn’t entirely grasped due to not having enough time. He also taught Rydoc many physical duties, like hunting and building ice houses. After His father died, Rydoc continued with everyday work at the bay, and one of his main jobs was helping people build new houses or repair old ones, for a price that is.

Rydoc also took to traveling in his sled, in fact, when he had no work to do he could travel round all day with his five dogs. Of course, Rydoc never went out of the ice bay, but he still enjoyed to visit all the places that he could get to.

He became quite good friends with Tarn, as they seemed to have a lot in common and he conversed and spent time with him often. More importantly, they shared the same views on how the current chieftains should be dropped, but, whereas Tarn didn’t like the fact that they were higher than he, Rydoc simply didn’t think they were helping the Lossoth’s enough. Some time back, Tarn began to instruct Rydoc in the ways of seal training, he is still a beginner and has much to learn, but Rydoc seems interested in it and is coming along quickly, so he has been given a few seals of his own. With these seals, both Tarn and Rydoc are aiding the Corsairs to find an ancient treasure.

__________________________________


First post: Rydoc sighed as he looked out over the bay at the incoming storm clouds. Well, he thought to himself. That’s going to be bad news for the corsair ship. He and Torn had recently decided to lend them seals in aid of their task, in hope of getting an award of nice new weapons, which would help them overthrow the chieftains and appointing someone else to rule the clans. Rydoc didn’t mind who led them, if they managed to overthrow the chieftains, and he even considered leading them himself, but Rydoc lacked some important leadership qualities.

Rydoc clambered to his feet and walked over to where he had left his sled and dogs. “Okay fellas,” he said allowed to the dogs. “Let’s have a trip round the bay and then get home before the storm reaches.” With this, Rydoc gave a flick of the reigns and without hesitation the five white dogs leapt forward and into full flight.

They were riding round the bay for at least half an hour, when a familiar face game into Rydoc’s view. It was Torn, with a young lad who looked as if he was working for him. Rydoc new that the boy was the son of Talsson, a drunkard who was always loosing his money, though he new not the boys name, and as Rydoc brought his sledge to a halt he noticed an amazed and yet angry look upon Torns face.

“Seals okay Torn? You look a bit daunted,” Rydoc said as he approached them, Rydoc then saw for himself what they were looking at. Far out from the bay in the mists Rydoc made out the outline of a ship coming slowly towards the harbor where the Corsair ship was. His heart began to beat faster, the ship was surrounded in fog and the storm clouds were circling above it and yet the ship was managing to stay afloat with ease. To Rydoc, it almost looked as if it were a ghost ship, but as it got a little closer he noticed the Elvish symbols upon the ship.

“Well, that would explain why it stood afloat so easily in this storm…” Said Rydoc looking at the ship in a calmer, but slightly annoyed manner. “The Elves of Cirdan have some of the greatest ship builders, or so ive heard, though I don’t know why they need to go poking their noses in this business. I have nothing against the Elves but their enemies are the Corsairs, and so, at least in this moment in time, that makes the Elves our enemies.” Rydoc new that if the Corsairs failed in their mission due to the Elves interference, then Torn, Rydoc and all others on the side of the Corsairs would most likely not receive their payment of weapons from the Corsair Captain.

“Yes,” replied Torn. “And if they prevent us from getting our weapons after all the hard work we’ve done, I shall not be too happy.” Rydoc nodded when suddenly a crack of thunder bellowed above his head.

“Well, that’s my cue to get home. See you tomorrow Torn,” said Rydoc, and with this he leapt on his sled and went with great speed to the south, towards his home.

[Regin Hardhammer]

Thank you everyone for your responses. I am glad that so many people are interested in the game. I will be reading all of your posts and profiles and makin suggestions if needed either on the thread or by pm or both. Child has told me there is another person working on a profile and post and I hope that they submit it, as well as another interested people. Please put your revisions on the existing post, if any are required.

- Regin

[Regin Hardhammer]

Arry, your charcters have been accepted.

Niluial, I will be sending a pm with suggested revisions. Thanks for your pm and post.

I am still working on the pro-Corsair Lossoth.

- Regin

[Arry]

Looking forward to the game!

[Kitanna]

I have a profile for a Pro-Corsair Lossoth.

1.) Have you ever played in an RPG at the Barrow Downs? –No

2.) How many RPG’s on the Barrow Downs are you currently involved in?
List them, please: None

3.) Have you posted in The Green Dragon Inn – Yes
~~~~~~~~~~

NAME: Nilak

AGE: 34

RACE: Lossoth (Men), Pro-Corsair

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: Though Nilak carries no weapons for war, he does carry a dagger and a bow for hunting. Also he uses a harpoon from time to time when he is out whaling.

APPEARANCE: Nilak is of average height and rather stocky. He has shoulder length black hair that he usually has tied back to keep it from his eyes. His eyes are so dark brown that many mistake them for black. He wears a pair of deerskin breeches that he tucks into his heavy leather boots. He wears a heavy bear pelt over a thick wool shirt and he also wears heavy leather gloves.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Nilak is very strong and very sneaky in his doings. Unlike many of his neighbors he has had many dealings with the Men who come into the bay. He sees the riches these Men possess and strives to one day possess them himself.
His biggest weakness is greed.

In wanting to have riches Nilak is willing to do whatever it takes, whether that means smuggling or even killing to get what he wants. Rumors have spread that he leads ships astray in the fog by hanging out lights to signal a clear passage. However the lights only lead the ships into rocks and patches of ice. Once the ships have sunk Nilak sends out his trained seals to recover any treasure that might have been aboard. He is willing to help the Corsairs now because they have promised him many riches, including his own ship.

HISTORY: Nilak was born and raised by the Ice Bay. His father died when he was too young to remember and his mother tried to raise him as best she could. He grew up poor and often he and his mother had to rely on the kindness of their neighbors to feed and clothe them.
************************

Secondary Character

NAME: Sernir
AGE: 49
RACE: Man of Umbar (Corsair)
GENDER: Male
WEAPONS: Sernir carries a sword and several throwing daggers.

GENERAL: Sernir is the Corsair who enlisted Nilak to help find the Stones. He hopes that Nilak and his trained seals will be able to find them before anyone else does. He has made promises to Nilak of great riches, promises he has no intention of keeping. Once he has used Nilak to find the Stones, the Lossoth is disposable.

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Kitanna's post

The wind was violent today and Nilak was relieved to finally be safe in the cabin of the Corsair ship. He had been out in the storm helping to secure the rigging. It had been a hard day and for Nilak it was only getting worse.

Sitting before him in the cabin was Sernir, who was whittling away at a piece of wood. His face was angry and his eyes were just little slits in his face. “You said you had the best trained seals in the land. Yet here you are with nothing.” Sernir put down his dagger and the piece of wood. His grey eyes bore into Nilak’s, but still Nilak held his ground. “You are as worthless as all the other Lossoths.”

“I am doing what I can.” Nilak responded in the calmest voice he could find. Sernir was testing his patience.

“Need I remind you what is at stake? If you do not find this treasure then you will get nothing.” The Corsair could tell he had hit a nerve. This Lossoth was driven by his greed and Sernir could use that as motivation. Sernir rose from his seat and walked to the window of his cabin. He was looking at nothing, just staring blankly into space thinking of all he would gain if the Lossoth found the Stones first. Then he thought of what he would lose if Nilak failed.

“It is getting colder every waking hour and the storm is getting more violent. Soon even my seals will not be able to dive for these precious stones of yours.” Nilak said. Sernir stopped gazing out the window and glared at Nilak once more. “You ask the impossible of me. What is so important about these Stones anyway?”

“That’s none of your business!” Sernir snapped. He was about to say something else, but Nilak had completely turned his attention away. The Lossoth was now looking out the window. “What are you looking at, scum?”

“That ship coming into the dock.”

Nilak could hear Marreth screaming out to the ship. “Infernal Elf vermin! Thou vain, milk livered coxcombs, may you sink to the bottom of the sea!”

Sernir’s expression had changed and now he too watched the ship intently. “Who are they?”

“Elves and now it is more pressing than ever that we find those stones.” Sernir looked back at Nilak. “Now we must crush the Elves or we will get nothing from this.”

Nilak nodded. “I will find your treasure before the Elves do. No matter what it takes.”

[Regin Hardhammer]

Wow.

I now have three great posters applying for two slots. Shire rules dictate that those who who have never played a game before take precedence. Lalwende and Kitanna have never played in any games. Phervasion, your post is great, but I am going to accept Lalwende and Kitanna because they are new gamers. Would you be willing to apply for the Corsair spot still open? We could sack and pillage together with Rinafanawen .

Lalwende, you are accepted, but just add a sentence or two explaining why you are helping the Corsairs. Kitanna you are accepted as well. I really liked how you set up the argument between the Corsair and the Lossoth. Your profile says that you are helping the Corsairs because you are greedy. Please include something showing your greed in your post. Just a sentence or two is fine.

Thanks everyone,

- Regin

[piosenniel]

Anyone seeing an 'edited by piosenniel' on their posts - I'm just setting them up for easy transfer to the game.

And please when you do edit your posts/bios as requested do it in the original post box for your character, not as a separate post.

Thanks!

~*~ Pio

[Lalwendë]

Regin,

I've made the changes you suggested to my post (#24) above. I hope these clarify the character, if not then let me know and I'm happy to do some more changes.

I'm looking forward to the game!

[Regin Hardhammer]

Lalwende, that looks fine. I hope that others will get their corrections in soon.

- Regin

[Kitanna]

Regin,
I added a few sentences like you suggested. If it's not what you wanted please let me know.

[Niluial]

I'm so sorry for taking longer than I said Pio, It will be up in the next hour or so!

~ Niluial

[Regin Hardhammer]

Kitanna,

That looks fine.

Niluial, please get those revisions up soon.

- Regin

[Imladris]

I would like to try out for the trusted Corsair officer.

Character Description Form:

1.) Have you ever played in an RPG at the Barrow Downs? – YES/NO - Which one? Yes, I have. Resistance, The Lingering Darkness, Last Hope for Moria (owned), The Hills of Evendim, Defense of the Poros.

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

List them, please: Friends of Nimrodel (Tapestry of Dreams).

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 – Yeppers
_______________________________________


Name Jarlyn

Age 32

Race Corsair

Gender Male

Weapons A snakelike whip hangs from his belt whilst a sword bangs against his thigh. A bow and arrows are slung across his back.

Appearance He’s very good looking with rich black hair, toned muscles, pleasantly tanned skin, and piercing black eyes.

Personality, etc He is not a scholar but clever with a sword. He is very sarcastic, has a morbid sense of humour, and tends to speak before he thinks. He has an insult ever ready and looks for ways to insult people, especially his enemies.

History He met Marreth when he volunteered to go on a raid. Marreth saved his neck and they have been friends since.

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Imladris' post - Jarlyn

Jarlyn slammed his fist on the table. “These Snowmen,” he said, “are not doing their jobs.” He glanced at the empty chair opposite him. He wanted to complain to Marreth. Tell him that he thought that the Snowmen were purposely being slow. Why did they want the Seeing Stones anyway? Business was grand without them. Having them could only cause trouble. What one didn’t know couldn’t harm one.

Jarlyn grimaced and sighed. Marreth wanted to do Castamir’s bidding as a vehicle for revenge for his father’s death. But as far as he was concerned, it wasn’t Elessar’s fault that his dear daddy had died. It had technically been that dread army of the Dead’s fault but as one could not take revenge upon the Dead then Marreth had to content himself with revenging himself on King Elessar. Thought how that would make any difference Jarlyn was at a loss to fathom.

He was jolted from his musing by Marreth ordering him on deck to check the rigging. As he was checking a knot, to make sure it was secure, he heard Marreth shout, “Infernal Elf vermin! Thou vain, milk livered coxcombs, may you sink to the bottom of the sea!”

“Well, if they sink,” Jarlyn muttered, “then we’re very liable to sink ourselves…”

But Marreth didn’t notice this comment and said, “Look there, we have company, and I fear they are up to no good!”

Jarlyn chortled. Considering that elves were good it was a bit of an oxymoron that they were up to no good. He stifled his laughter and said, “Well, we haven’t been successful and we’ve been here for how long? Honestly, they won’t be able to find the Stones either.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Second Character

NAME: Jynne

AGE: 35

RACE: Corsair

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS A plain dagger dangles from his waist.

APPEARANCE: He is tall, almost six feet. His limp, course, pale black hair is tied back in a dirty black rag. His brown skin is blotchy ask his parts of his skin fade to the pure whiteness of the cursed Gondorians. To hide this, he dresses in long sleeved shirts that hang limply from his gangly form. When patches of the pale skin became splattered about his left eye, he began to wear a dirty black patch. His eyes are a watery brown flecked with a dirty green, rather like a pond.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: To those who first meet him, Jynne fails to inspire respect or fear. They tend, in fact, to compare him to a slinking worm. But, underneath the slouchiness there is a coiled snake, venom of hate and spite dripping from his fangs.

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Imladris' post - Jynne

Jynne craned his neck to the shoulder, listening to the bone creak with morbid pleasure. He peered into the gloom, towards the coast where the duped Snowmen would be huddling together against the fury of the storm. A little sneer curled about his thin lips. He remembered their naivety as the Corsairs had pulled into harbour. Some had thought the Corsairs would be their friends, that they would actually make them chiefs over their various tribes. A laugh almost escaped him. If anything, a trusted Corsair would be made the Snowmen’s leader. But the more they were deluded, the better able were they to control and manipulate them as a potter at work with his clay.

Behind him, Nilak and Senir were arguing with each other. A thin smile stretched his thin face. These Snowmen had not been successful in finding the drowned Seeing Stones. Their silly seals had come up spluttering and breathless and empty handed every time they dived. His eyebrows shrugged slightly. But what else was to be expected? They were power mongers, grovelling at the chance for power and control.

The Seeing Stones must be found. With them Castamir could spy upon his enemies, listen to covert secrets whispered in the darkness.


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I hope this is satisfactory?

Cheers,
Imladris

[Niluial]

Hi,

Ok, my post has been edited. I hope it is alright. It is number 22.

Best Wishes,
Niluial

[Regin Hardhammer]

Imladris and Niluial -

Please check your pms.

~Regin

[Imladris]

I have edited my former post, #37. I hope it is satisfactory and all that jazz. If it's not shoot me off a PM and I'll do my best to correct it.

Cheerio,
Imladris