The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum - View Single Post

piosenniel · 06-25-2004, 11:03 AM

POSTED FOR:

Sarin Mithrilanger - (internet access problems)

1) I have never played an RPG at the Barrow Downs.

2)I am not currently involved in any RPG's.

3) Yes, I have posted in The Green Dragon Inn.

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Name: Zuromor- Slave of Mordor

Age: Around 20

Race: Man

Gender: Male

Weapons: None at the moment, though after being in Mordor and constantly fighting for survival he has learned to use his body and wits as weapons.

Appearance: A tall man with hair black as the night itself and green eyes. His quick smile and helping hands for other slaves give a kind air to his person. He is well built; his body made hard by the harsh conditions in the slave camps. The rugged labor in Mordor has made him muscular, although the scarce food has left him whipcord thin. Sometimes, the constant hunger makes him feel close to death. His body is covered with old scars and new wounds from the beatings he receives almost daily from the slave handlers. His hair is unkempt - matted and very dirty. His beard is scraggly and filthy, also. His tunic is barely more than a ragged shirt. He has no breeches, only a worn loincloth. His feet are bare.

Personality/History: Born into slavery, bred in the very bowels of the deepest and darkest hells, Zuromor knows only the dark, bleak existence he has in Mordor. His time as a slave has been filled with daily difficulty and despair. He has often dreamt of places he has heard about from the other captured slaves - green hills and beautiful lands that must exist somewhere beyond this wretched world. For his entire life he has been beaten by orcs and tortured – and often just so the orcs would have some entertainment. Soon after he began to mature he began to exercise in his cell as often as he could. He knew the orcs would only torture him until their sick desires and disgusting pleasures became indulged by another sad and pathetic life-form. So he trained in case he would ever be able to kill at least one orc before they slaughtered him. In the end, he vowed, they would not get their pleasures so easily from him.

As if battling for his survival were not enough, he has fallen into thoughts of death - grabbing an orc’s spear through his bars and robbing them of their wishes to beat him and then tearing into his very flesh by killing himself. But he knew his death would mean nothing to him unless he could spill orc blood first.

He waited patiently for that chance.

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Sarin Mithrilanger’s post

Darkness spanned Zuromor’s entire cell once more. It was always dark and gloomy beyond all imagining. He sat in the darkest corner of both his cell and his mind. Dark thoughts came to him, besieged him. In an effort to shake himself away from such things he began to exercise, though he now tired of even thinking of doing such things. The orcs were not without intelligence however and they usually had a guard outside the group of cells his own was in – in case any of the slaves tried something foolish. But this night (or day) was different. There was no guard on watch. This seemed strange to him, but strange things often happened in Mordor.

He was just finishing up his routine when he heard raised voices and odd noises that soon sounded like keys. He approached the cell door and peered down as far as he could. Soon he saw a figure approaching. He sighed and stood in the center of his cell expecting an orc to come and threaten him. But in a matter of moments a man stepped in front of his door and unlocked it.

Zuromor was so shocked he dared not move. The man looked at him for a moment and then waved for him to follow. Zuromor hesitated - freedom seemed like another prison, just bigger. But maybe there is a land where orcs do not roam. He smiled briefly as the thought crossed his mind. He quickly followed this mysterious figure to his first taste of freedom. He was out of his cell and for the first time, there were no orcs around him.

06-25-2004, 11:03 AM	#7
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	POSTED FOR: Sarin Mithrilanger - (internet access problems) 1) I have never played an RPG at the Barrow Downs. 2)I am not currently involved in any RPG's. 3) Yes, I have posted in The Green Dragon Inn. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Name: Zuromor- Slave of Mordor Age: Around 20 Race: Man Gender: Male Weapons: None at the moment, though after being in Mordor and constantly fighting for survival he has learned to use his body and wits as weapons. Appearance: A tall man with hair black as the night itself and green eyes. His quick smile and helping hands for other slaves give a kind air to his person. He is well built; his body made hard by the harsh conditions in the slave camps. The rugged labor in Mordor has made him muscular, although the scarce food has left him whipcord thin. Sometimes, the constant hunger makes him feel close to death. His body is covered with old scars and new wounds from the beatings he receives almost daily from the slave handlers. His hair is unkempt - matted and very dirty. His beard is scraggly and filthy, also. His tunic is barely more than a ragged shirt. He has no breeches, only a worn loincloth. His feet are bare. Personality/History: Born into slavery, bred in the very bowels of the deepest and darkest hells, Zuromor knows only the dark, bleak existence he has in Mordor. His time as a slave has been filled with daily difficulty and despair. He has often dreamt of places he has heard about from the other captured slaves - green hills and beautiful lands that must exist somewhere beyond this wretched world. For his entire life he has been beaten by orcs and tortured – and often just so the orcs would have some entertainment. Soon after he began to mature he began to exercise in his cell as often as he could. He knew the orcs would only torture him until their sick desires and disgusting pleasures became indulged by another sad and pathetic life-form. So he trained in case he would ever be able to kill at least one orc before they slaughtered him. In the end, he vowed, they would not get their pleasures so easily from him. As if battling for his survival were not enough, he has fallen into thoughts of death - grabbing an orc’s spear through his bars and robbing them of their wishes to beat him and then tearing into his very flesh by killing himself. But he knew his death would mean nothing to him unless he could spill orc blood first. He waited patiently for that chance. ---------------------------------- Sarin Mithrilanger’s post Darkness spanned Zuromor’s entire cell once more. It was always dark and gloomy beyond all imagining. He sat in the darkest corner of both his cell and his mind. Dark thoughts came to him, besieged him. In an effort to shake himself away from such things he began to exercise, though he now tired of even thinking of doing such things. The orcs were not without intelligence however and they usually had a guard outside the group of cells his own was in – in case any of the slaves tried something foolish. But this night (or day) was different. There was no guard on watch. This seemed strange to him, but strange things often happened in Mordor. He was just finishing up his routine when he heard raised voices and odd noises that soon sounded like keys. He approached the cell door and peered down as far as he could. Soon he saw a figure approaching. He sighed and stood in the center of his cell expecting an orc to come and threaten him. But in a matter of moments a man stepped in front of his door and unlocked it. Zuromor was so shocked he dared not move. The man looked at him for a moment and then waved for him to follow. Zuromor hesitated - freedom seemed like another prison, just bigger. But maybe there is a land where orcs do not roam. He smiled briefly as the thought crossed his mind. He quickly followed this mysterious figure to his first taste of freedom. He was out of his cell and for the first time, there were no orcs around him.