[piosenniel]

Orual’s character

Name: Tarannon Falastur

Age: 67

Appearance: Tall and broad-shouldered, Tarannon commands attention just by entering a room. His thick hair is salt-and-pepper, his eyes stormy grey, and his skin is fair. He rarely smiles anymore, but he has wrinkles around his mouth and around his eyes that suggest that he had previously been a cheerful man.

Personality: Tarannon's major passion is the military and naval growth of Gondor, to the detriment of his marriage. He does not neglect Beruthiél out of spite or cruelty, but out of thoughtlessness. He can be oblivious of things that do not pertain to ships or soldiers, and though she was very much in love with him, once he learned that she could not bear children and would not give him an heir, he lost some interest in their marriage, turning all of his attention to running his kingdom. He can appear preoccupied, but he is actually very observant and shrewd.

History: Tarannon was the twelfth king of Gondor, succeeding Siriondil, whose reign was unremarkable, but, it can be assumed, peaceful. His zeal for the military showed at an early age, and much was expected of him. His training was intense and isolated him from other children his age, so his social skills are limited to what is necessary to run a kingdom. He met Beruthiél at a ball, and fell in love with her. He courted her and wed her, then found that she could not have children. Having been taught to believe that that was the purpose of a royal marriage was to produce a royal heir, he drifted away from Beruthiél.

First post:


Tarannon Falastur sat back in his chair, looking out the window into the gardens outside of the palace. He fiddled with the model of a new ship he planned to submit to the chief shipmaker, once he got around to it. Right now something else was on his mind.

He sighed as he glanced at the portrait of his family--that is, himself, his wife Beruthiél, and her managerie. He did wish that she would not obsess over those cats like that, but he supposed it was better than her unseemly work at the gardens at Osgiliath. He could have gotten her nice cats, good, well-bred, decent cats, but she had to have her strays. He did not understand it, but at least it got her out of his hair, most of which was gray because of her moaning about wanting a child
.
He heard a mutter from outside his door about the "Queen's beasts," and frowned. If Beruthiél was going to insist on keeping those animals, the least she could do was keep them from being underfoot all of the time. One would swear that they followed Tarannon around, given how often he tripped over them.

A knock came at the door. "Come in," Tarannon called.

"My lord, the schematics you asked for are in," said a lanky young man, closing the door behind him and offering the king a small stack of papers.

"Thank you," Tarannon replied, and dismissed the man, going through the papers. Beruthiél and her cats were forgotten; military matters now consumed all of his thought.