The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum - View Single Post - Island of Sorrow Planning/Discussion Thread

piosenniel · 05-18-2005, 02:33 AM

DEDICATED CHARACTER

1.) Anguirel’s character

NAME: Malris of Forlindon

AGE: 7251 years (born 1299, Age of the Trees)

RACE: Noldorin Elf

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: Cirlach, a blade forged by Curufin and wound about with ancient runes in Tengwar and Certh, given to Malris in the years of the Leaguer around Angband. The blade is exceedingly sharp, and the balance is well-crafted. Were Malris encountering Orcs, it would no doubt be very useful, but it is no substantial foe he is to face now...

APPEARANCE: Malris is not as tall as some of the Noldor. He is slender, but in no way effete; his face is grim and hard, and his grey eyes given to glaring. His hair is black and cut short. He is left-handed, and it was he, with Curufin, who helped to train Maedhros in swordplay after he lost his right hand. He wears the star of Feanor proudly on his tunic.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Malris brooks very little argument, and has a short temper; though he is always respectful and loyal to those who have won his regard over his long years. He is cautious, experience having taught him this vital lesson. But once he has decided to hate, his pride means he will rarely be reconciled. He is still uneasy as to how to behave to the Teleri, and as to men, he cannot forget the treachery of Uldor the Accursed at the Nirnaeth Arnoediad.

HISTORY: Malris was born in Tirion, in the blessed land of Valinor. As he grew he excelled physically, performing feats of athleticism far beyond his size, though Artanis, called Nerwen and Galadriel, always outdid him. Once he noticed another youth of the Noldor, flagging behind in a run, on the point of collapse. Malris ran back across the track to stop the other falling. It turned out that this was Maglor, son of Feanor, whose father had urged him to run a race he did not possess the stamina to finish.

Maglor and Malris found in each other opposite, and consequently attractive, characters, and soon befriended each other. So it was that Malris, not of noble stock, nevertheless found himself frequently at the house of Feanor, where he met Maglor’s six brothers. Maedhros admired Malris’ honesty and courage, and Curufin enjoyed teasing him, competing against him in games he would win by trickery. At first Malris was affronted by this, but Maglor persuaded him to forgive Curufin, and Curufin also won his esteem by his arts in the smithy. Only Celegorm actively disliked him, and derided his lack of breeding.

When Feanor broke the peace of Valinor, Malris would have accompanied him and his sons into exile, but his father, who took Fingolfin’s side, forbade it. After Feanor’s return and the theft of the Silmarils, Malris journeyed with Feanor’s host; without regret he joined the Kinslaying, and so fell under the full force of the Doom of Mandos. He fought in the Dagor-nan-Giliath and the Dagor Aglareb, and bore Maedhros’ standard for a time. At this time he married Giledhel of the Noldor.

When the Leaguer was broken at the Bragollach, Malris helped fortify Himring with all his skill. After the loss at the Nirnaeth, Malris helped destroy the walls he had built, to stop the Dark Lord occupying them. In the retreat his wife Giledhel was lost, and he never saw her again.

He joined Maedhros and the brothers in Ossiriand, and was one of the captains in their army on the assaults on Doriath and Sirion, though by the Third Kinslaying he felt sick to the heart. When the host of Eonwe arrived in Beleriand, Malris met his father again, but refused to sail home with him. The break was complete.

Malris travelled far to the east, seeking Maglor and Maedhros, and found only the chasm where Maedhros had fallen. He returned to Lindon, not going to Mithlond, for he knew Cirdan hated him and with good reason, but building a small hall near the Ered Luin. At last, Gil-galad summoned him to court, and he was pardoned on the instigation of Elrond, Maglor’s foster-son, who declared him of good character.

Celebrimbor called on him to join the Gwaith-i-Mirdan of Eregion, but he remained loyal to the High King, distrusting the Maia Annatar.

After the fall of Gil-galad and Sauron Elrond invited him to come to Imladris, but he refused, keeping to his abode in Forlindon, for a sea-longing was creeping upon him. Now, in the year of the Ring’s destruction, he plans to depart; but he wishes to see Himring again first, and so he has called the other five survivors of Maedhros’ army to meet him in Mithlond.

~*~*~*~

In addition to Malris, Anguirel will control the Voice of Maglor and Cirdan, as they are canon characters.

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

Anguirel’s post -- FIRST FOR GAME

It is a curious thing to leave behind your house in any circumstances. A house is forged and tempered to appear, if not like its owner’s soul, then like a perception of that soul. It wrenches the spirit to abandon it.

How much odder, then, the Elf reflected, that he-who had been driven out of his last home by all the might of the Valarin Host-now countenanced leaving his small, utilitarian hall behind willingly; leaving it intact, pristine, down to the smithy, armoury, everything-but without anything but mice to dwell in it. And why was he doing this? Because of some water mixed with salt. O Sea, beloved thing, yet a stifler of hopes. The gulls were singing again as he looked out from the harbour of Mithlond.

But Malris had one last errand to attend to; half a tribute to lost friends, half, as he had to admit, self-indulgence and nostalgia. Before he set out to Tol Eressea, he would visit another domicile; the place he had lived when life still held excitement, possibilities; when the Long Defeat still looked like victory. He, and the five other survivors of Maedhros the Tall’s host, would go back to Himring.

Why else, after all, he thought, did the Valar preserve it? Surely if it alone survived the ruin of Beleriand, there is some greater purpose bound up with it. But what care I for things arranged by the uncaring Lords of the West? No; my reasons are private ones. I would look on the castle of Maedhros one more time before it is lost to me. And the others feel the same; have felt the same all this long age, or they would not have agreed to come.

“Gnome! Cease your maundering!” a harsh voice cried, scattering his thoughts. It was Cirdan’s harbour master, and like most of the Telerin Elves here, he hated Malris the moment he saw the Star of Feanor on his chest.

“Are you moving on or aren’t you?”

“I want a boat, fisherman.”

“Why don’t you kill for it? You’ve done it before.”

“And little good it did me. Silver,” Malris muttered, “is cheaper than steel. I learnt that eventually.”

“Yet you wear the murderer’s ensign.”

“I wear it for Maedhros,” Malris answered, so quietly it was almost inaudible. “For the beautiful, unmatched, fearless Prince who kept your lands safe from Orcs.”

“He proved little better than an Orc himself. I lost my wife at Sirion, blood-drinker.”

“Then,” Malris said, “we are more similar than you imagine. Find me a boat that will carry six, and then, truly, Teler, you will never have to set eyes on me again.”

There was a cough behind them. At first sight the new arrival might have been said to resemble an old bearded Man; but his eyes were too bright with starlight and wisdom.

“Malris of Forlindon. I received your missive. A vessel is provided for you and your five companions. In a week, return here, and we will take the Straight Road together.”

“I thank you, Shipwright,” Malris replied with a slight bow. “Now I will go to the boat. Tell the others where I have gone. Namarie, for better or worse.”

05-18-2005, 02:33 AM	#7
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	DEDICATED CHARACTER 1.) Anguirel’s character NAME: Malris of Forlindon AGE: 7251 years (born 1299, Age of the Trees) RACE: Noldorin Elf GENDER: Male WEAPONS: Cirlach, a blade forged by Curufin and wound about with ancient runes in Tengwar and Certh, given to Malris in the years of the Leaguer around Angband. The blade is exceedingly sharp, and the balance is well-crafted. Were Malris encountering Orcs, it would no doubt be very useful, but it is no substantial foe he is to face now... APPEARANCE: Malris is not as tall as some of the Noldor. He is slender, but in no way effete; his face is grim and hard, and his grey eyes given to glaring. His hair is black and cut short. He is left-handed, and it was he, with Curufin, who helped to train Maedhros in swordplay after he lost his right hand. He wears the star of Feanor proudly on his tunic. PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Malris brooks very little argument, and has a short temper; though he is always respectful and loyal to those who have won his regard over his long years. He is cautious, experience having taught him this vital lesson. But once he has decided to hate, his pride means he will rarely be reconciled. He is still uneasy as to how to behave to the Teleri, and as to men, he cannot forget the treachery of Uldor the Accursed at the Nirnaeth Arnoediad. HISTORY: Malris was born in Tirion, in the blessed land of Valinor. As he grew he excelled physically, performing feats of athleticism far beyond his size, though Artanis, called Nerwen and Galadriel, always outdid him. Once he noticed another youth of the Noldor, flagging behind in a run, on the point of collapse. Malris ran back across the track to stop the other falling. It turned out that this was Maglor, son of Feanor, whose father had urged him to run a race he did not possess the stamina to finish. Maglor and Malris found in each other opposite, and consequently attractive, characters, and soon befriended each other. So it was that Malris, not of noble stock, nevertheless found himself frequently at the house of Feanor, where he met Maglor’s six brothers. Maedhros admired Malris’ honesty and courage, and Curufin enjoyed teasing him, competing against him in games he would win by trickery. At first Malris was affronted by this, but Maglor persuaded him to forgive Curufin, and Curufin also won his esteem by his arts in the smithy. Only Celegorm actively disliked him, and derided his lack of breeding. When Feanor broke the peace of Valinor, Malris would have accompanied him and his sons into exile, but his father, who took Fingolfin’s side, forbade it. After Feanor’s return and the theft of the Silmarils, Malris journeyed with Feanor’s host; without regret he joined the Kinslaying, and so fell under the full force of the Doom of Mandos. He fought in the Dagor-nan-Giliath and the Dagor Aglareb, and bore Maedhros’ standard for a time. At this time he married Giledhel of the Noldor. When the Leaguer was broken at the Bragollach, Malris helped fortify Himring with all his skill. After the loss at the Nirnaeth, Malris helped destroy the walls he had built, to stop the Dark Lord occupying them. In the retreat his wife Giledhel was lost, and he never saw her again. He joined Maedhros and the brothers in Ossiriand, and was one of the captains in their army on the assaults on Doriath and Sirion, though by the Third Kinslaying he felt sick to the heart. When the host of Eonwe arrived in Beleriand, Malris met his father again, but refused to sail home with him. The break was complete. Malris travelled far to the east, seeking Maglor and Maedhros, and found only the chasm where Maedhros had fallen. He returned to Lindon, not going to Mithlond, for he knew Cirdan hated him and with good reason, but building a small hall near the Ered Luin. At last, Gil-galad summoned him to court, and he was pardoned on the instigation of Elrond, Maglor’s foster-son, who declared him of good character. Celebrimbor called on him to join the Gwaith-i-Mirdan of Eregion, but he remained loyal to the High King, distrusting the Maia Annatar. After the fall of Gil-galad and Sauron Elrond invited him to come to Imladris, but he refused, keeping to his abode in Forlindon, for a sea-longing was creeping upon him. Now, in the year of the Ring’s destruction, he plans to depart; but he wishes to see Himring again first, and so he has called the other five survivors of Maedhros’ army to meet him in Mithlond. ~~~~ In addition to Malris, Anguirel will control the Voice of Maglor and Cirdan, as they are canon characters. --------------------------------------- Anguirel’s post* -- FIRST FOR GAME It is a curious thing to leave behind your house in any circumstances. A house is forged and tempered to appear, if not like its owner’s soul, then like a perception of that soul. It wrenches the spirit to abandon it. How much odder, then, the Elf reflected, that he-who had been driven out of his last home by all the might of the Valarin Host-now countenanced leaving his small, utilitarian hall behind willingly; leaving it intact, pristine, down to the smithy, armoury, everything-but without anything but mice to dwell in it. And why was he doing this? Because of some water mixed with salt. O Sea, beloved thing, yet a stifler of hopes. The gulls were singing again as he looked out from the harbour of Mithlond. But Malris had one last errand to attend to; half a tribute to lost friends, half, as he had to admit, self-indulgence and nostalgia. Before he set out to Tol Eressea, he would visit another domicile; the place he had lived when life still held excitement, possibilities; when the Long Defeat still looked like victory. He, and the five other survivors of Maedhros the Tall’s host, would go back to Himring. Why else, after all, he thought, did the Valar preserve it? Surely if it alone survived the ruin of Beleriand, there is some greater purpose bound up with it. But what care I for things arranged by the uncaring Lords of the West? No; my reasons are private ones. I would look on the castle of Maedhros one more time before it is lost to me. And the others feel the same; have felt the same all this long age, or they would not have agreed to come. “Gnome! Cease your maundering!” a harsh voice cried, scattering his thoughts. It was Cirdan’s harbour master, and like most of the Telerin Elves here, he hated Malris the moment he saw the Star of Feanor on his chest. “Are you moving on or aren’t you?” “I want a boat, fisherman.” “Why don’t you kill for it? You’ve done it before.” “And little good it did me. Silver,” Malris muttered, “is cheaper than steel. I learnt that eventually.” “Yet you wear the murderer’s ensign.” “I wear it for Maedhros,” Malris answered, so quietly it was almost inaudible. “For the beautiful, unmatched, fearless Prince who kept your lands safe from Orcs.” “He proved little better than an Orc himself. I lost my wife at Sirion, blood-drinker.” “Then,” Malris said, “we are more similar than you imagine. Find me a boat that will carry six, and then, truly, Teler, you will never have to set eyes on me again.” There was a cough behind them. At first sight the new arrival might have been said to resemble an old bearded Man; but his eyes were too bright with starlight and wisdom. “Malris of Forlindon. I received your missive. A vessel is provided for you and your five companions. In a week, return here, and we will take the Straight Road together.” “I thank you, Shipwright,” Malris replied with a slight bow. “Now I will go to the boat. Tell the others where I have gone. Namarie, for better or worse.”