[Eorl of Rohan]

NAME: Ferethor Steele
AGE: 26
RACE: Men
GENDER: Male
WEAPONS: A sword. What other weapon do you expect of a Gondorian ex-soldier?

APPEARANCE: He is clad in a chain-mail of tarnished silver, a soft deerskin shirt beneath to prevent the linked ringlets from being driven into his flesh. He has on black woollen breeches, mudstained leather boots that bespoke of a long and weary journey, and a slim metal shield depicting a silver leaf on a sable background is strapped to his back. His blade is sheathed by his side within easy reach. All this, except for the shield, is covered by a midnight-black woollen cloak that boasts bloodstains as well as mud. He is also willowy slender. Fair of hair and countenance, pleasing to look upon but with no sinews to speak of, he does not seem to be a fierce warrior despite his fighting attire and the blood on his cloak. Perhaps this is why he is wearing a chainmail and have a weapon close by his side even in the safety of the Golden Perch Inn; he must have survived to see his late twenties, not because he was powerful, but because of his instinctive caution and wariness for any and all eventualities.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Quick and swift of foot, a passable archer and a dependable swordsman. His style of swordplay is mainly defensive, nothing flashy, holding his ground until the enemy gives way or reinforcement arrives. He picked it up offhand in the army but it served him well enough to tide him over the War. Shy, easygoing, but deadly serious in even the most trivial of matters. He doesn't smile easily or make many friends. His speech is courteous if overly formal.

HISTORY: Ferethor quit his service to Gondor after the War, and hired himself out as an independent mercenary. His specialty is the protection of merchant caravans from the bandit raiders that lurk in the shadows of the woods, and earned quite some recognition in that profession for never having yet lost a merchant caravan... although it has been muttered that this was because he was suspiciously successful at striking deals with the raiders themselves. He is on good speaking terms with many of the bandit leaders. When the War was over and most of the soldiers were released from the payroll, Ferethor took the morally gray path of a mercenary. Some of his friends and comrades took the black path of banditry instead, and somehow they fell into a steady if unintended symbiosis of looking out for each other. Ferethor treads a thin line between the immoral and the moral, though he hasn't done anything definitely illegal yet, and perhaps his questionable acquaintances would get him into trouble some day...

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LINKED ~*~ Pio