[Lyra Greenleaf]

Why do I do this to myself? If I fail my exams, it’ll all be my own fault! [img]smilies/rolleyes.gif[/img] OK, anyway- I began this is a secondary character but I prefer him to Essenia. So if he's accepted could she be relegated to a secondary character?

I hope you like the names Durelin! (One of the Forsaken and Galad’s surname.) [img]smilies/wink.gif[/img]

I hope they're both evil enough. I did the blurb about Damodred after I wrote my post and suddenly eralised I was writing a Grandfatherly character, so I had to give him hidden depths.

Also- what do you think of the idea that Sammael sees himself as doing the right thing, rather than being evil? It makes sense really, but I could make them both worse if you want me to.

It's a pity there's only the two of us playing Haradrim. By the way, Hi Nerindel! Hey, any ideas on the numbers of anonymous characters we'll be leading? (I never had a clue how many people were supposed to be with Raken the whole way through QFTA!)


Name: Sammael

Age: 25

Race: Haradrim

Gender: Male

Appearance: He has dark brown hair but a more or less completely shaven head, surprisingly light eyes, they’re hazel which is rare for Haradrim. He is very tall but deceptively thin- he’s actually quite strong. Good looking, and he knows it! Vain and fussy about his appearance and clothes. Always clean shaven.

Weapons: Two curved scimitars. (Think Legolas in the film, but dark, evil looking metal). A number of knives hidden in various places- sleeves, boots, etc.

History: Youngest son of a relatively prosperous family, his father got good money on one of the few legal trading ships from Umbar. He was always getting up to mischief and practical jokes as a child, never taking anything seriously. His father wanted him to go, with his older brothers, into trade. However at the age of 16 Sammael discovered a taste for fighting and killing. He’s been variously employed, on ships or similar land missions ever since.

Personality/Strengths/Weaknesses: He almost seems to have two personalities- the joker (which he has never grown out of) and the killer. He sees fighting as the noblest form of art, and killing is the inevitable result of losing for a fighting man. However he disapproves of women fighting, and hates the idea of killing anyone who isn’t fighting him. He hates weakness, and sees soldiers who surrender as lower than human, for males anyway. For women he thinks it is merely acceptance that they shouldn’t have been fighting in the first place, and proof they weren’t meant to. He’s vain of his appearance and likes to flirt. He also likes anything social- drinking, playing cards, brawling. His sense of humour, and honour at only fighting soldiers are strong points, his ruthlessness, vanity and sexism are weaknesses. Follows the dark Religion with a passion, really believes that it is not only what is best, but what is right. In fact, his ideas of good and evil are completely reversed, he sees the Vala as demons who want to corrupt. He can usually get on with most people; his skill makes him appeal to warriors and his charm to others.


FIRST POST:

Sammael laughed, showing white teeth. He had noticed that this was one very effective way to catch a woman’s attention. It worked, she was watching him.
”More ale” he called to the tavern maid, flashing her a smile that often did the same job.

“Could you not just have called her? Why all this grinning like a lackwit?” Sammael glanced at Damodred. His voice sounded cranky, but that was nothing new. Sammael had worked with the old man for years, and although he might have begun with the idea that Sammael was not a warrior, he certainly knew different now.

“A smile now might lead to better things later” he said, giving an exaggerated wink. A few of the men around the rickety table laughed.
“Deal the cards, then, if you’re not scared I will take you for all you’re worth” Sammael continued, giving another wink to the maid as she brought the pewter jugs.
“Indeed, young man? There may come a day yet when you beat me, but I do not think it will be today!”

Sammael chuckled along with Damodred. It was true, he had little talent at cards, except for tricks. Still, it was fun and he had money from raiding. What else was it good for but having fun? And new weapons. Idly Sammael stroked the hilt of his new curved sword as Damodred shuffled the cards. A scimitar, the dealer had called it- from some far off land. It had a good weight, it looked good and seemed deadly. Yes, he considered, life was generally good. He could have been stuck holding up fabrics or jewels for traders, like his father.
I might never have known the sublime feeling of the fight, the victory! he thought, with an inward shudder. I might have…married. Relief filled him. Why would you want to limit yourself to one woman? That tavern maid had a pretty face, but then so did the other. And the woman sitting with her husband in the corner. Admittedly, men were not expected to be faithful, but there were obligations, responsibilities. Yes, children were nice but he had three nephews and four nieces! Who needed more? No, life was good as it was. In fact-

“Are you going to sit there mooning over a pretty face all night?”
Damodred’s prickly voice cut through his dreams. Nightmares! he corrected himself with a grimace, then picked up his hand. As usual it was terrible, as a far too expressive face told Damodred clearly. The old man shook his head.

******

“Join our quest to the Southlands. A chance to fight for the glory of the Eye and the progression of Umbar. Fight the barbarians and turn them to the true path-guard the Priestess and help her in her mission. Conquer the lands of the Heathen and gain their support or provide their destruction. The Glory of the Dark Citadel to all who follow us. Make yourself known to the guards there. Glory to the Eye”
The voice of the Guard stopped intoning the proclamation and began to roll up his scroll.

Sammael had listened consideringly, lowering his head respectfully at the mention of the Eye. The man had the light of someone who served the Eye burning in his eyes. Sammael admired him. He would have volunteered as a Guard for the Dark Citadel if they led a more exciting life. And, of course, if they had more time to spend in the inns of the city. After considered thought he had judged he was probably best doing what he knew, but he sometimes felt he wasn’t doing enough. This journey would offer a chance to serve the Eye, which he sometimes felt he neglected, but also provide the more practical adventure he loved.

He turned to Damodred. The little man was watching him, head cocked to one side like a bird.
“Well?” he asked, “This seems right up your street, Sammael. Are we in?”
Sammael nodded slowly, then broke into his trademark grin.
“Yes. We’re in. Come on, let’s go up to the Citadel”


~ Carry along character: Damodred- A relatively old man- in his 40s- but he has lost none of his wits and little of his skill. Grumbles and groans at Sammael, especially over his flirting, but they’ve known each other for 7 or 8 years and are fond of each other. Leadership passes between the two of them- Damodred respects Sammael’s energy and skill, Sammael respects Damodred’s experience. Practical, down to earth, seems a kindly old man but in fact is completely ruthless against anyone who opposes his point of view, people or well being. He sees violence as the answer to every problem!

OK- questions: Is there any sort of sign of respect to a priestess or to the Eye itself? (Like a Catholic would cross themselves, or when people used to spit after mentioning the Devil, or in Tamora Pierce’s books they trace a circle on their chests?) If not, could we make one up?
Also, are we going to pass any towns/villages/cities on our way to the tribespeople?

[ June 03, 2003: Message edited by: Lyra Greenleaf ]