The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum - View Single Post - Red Flows the Sirannon Planning/Discussion Thread

piosenniel · 07-16-2005, 11:32 AM

Dwarves of Moria

Boromir88's character

NAME: Orin Bronzeeyes

AGE: 205 years old. (One of the eldest of the dwarves still left in Moria).

RACE: Dwarf, Durin's folk/Longbeard clan.

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: A, two-handed, double-bladed, battleaxe he uses for tight, cramped areas. A small one-handed iron axe used as a secondary weapon.

APPEARANCE: 4'11, rather short compared to other members of his kin but he more than makes up for it. Over the years Orin has packed on a few extra pounds as well. He has a long greyish/white beard that reaches down his thighs and braids his pure white hair into one LONG ponytail. He can still wield an axe better than most and his age and plumpness have no effect on his endurance when he gets into a rage. Orin is not one to trust to armor, feeling as it slows him down (or maybe it's just become more of a burden). He does wear a mail hauberk crafted by himself. He also carries a wooden shield with a rune only he understands.

PERSONALITY-STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Orin is feared as one of the best when it comes to wielding an axe in battle. Often when he sees orcs (or some foul creature) he builds into a maddening rage and you can hardly tell he is 205 years old. There lies his biggest weakness. He is lightly armored compared to the other dwarves, although he will never admit it, heavy armor becomes a burden to him. Also, with his growing age he has lost a lot of the speed in his attacks that his young nephews still have. However, his elogance and efficiency, when wielding a weapon, makes up for it.

Orin is a strong believer in family and strong bonds with his kinsman. He would put the life of any of his fellow dwarves above his own. The problem is if you aren't one of his kinsmen, or a family member, he finds it hard to trust you or make friendships. He often remembers prior feuds and has trouble forgetting the past (unless you happen to be another dwarf). If you are one of the few Elves he respects then you would be grateful to have Orin at your side, but if not, then it's just best to stay out of his way.

HISTORY: Orin was born 98 years before the forging of the three elven rings. He is one of the oldest dwarves still left to defend Moria. For most of his life Orin just spent most of his life learning the fine art of craftsmanship from his father, Frorin. He has never married, and has no children, but does have three nephews (being the eldest brother of their mother); Riv, Skald, and Bror. With no family of his own Orin has often tried to look after his nephews, whenever he could.

Orin has lived to watch the two eldest brothers to grow up and become fine, stout dwarves. He now focuses mostly on the youngest, Bror, realizing that sometimes he has a quick temper, and can get him into some trouble. He feels that Riv and Skald are old enough now that they don't need his guidance much anymore, but that doesn't mean he cares for one more than another. He simply recognizes Bror's anger and tries his hardest to guide him and would not able to cope with the possibility of failure.

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

Boromir88's post

Orin was well aware of the rumor of the gathering of orcs, but he was not prepared on leaving, and had no intentions to. He sat fiddling with his double-bladed battleaxe wondering what this meeting was going to be about. Most of colony had heard the whispering of threats from orcs and other dark creatures. Perhaps it is just to confirm the situation, he thought.

While Orin was deep in thought he had not noticed that he cut his thumb on his axe. He smiled as he was pleased it was still sharp and if the rumors of orcs were true they aren't getting through Moria without a fight. Then it suddenly came to him, a poking pain in his thumb. It wasn't a serious cut, but it felt like one of those annoying papercuts; a sharp pain for days.

Orin cleaned up his cut, grimacing a bit while doing it, and decided he should be heading off. When he got there his two younger nephews, Skald and Bror, were already there, but he had not seen Riv yet. That is odd he mumbled. He greeted his two nephews with friendly hugs and went off to sit with some of the older dwarves. He wanted to see what they knew about the matter. Most of them knew just as much, or less than Orin, which wasn't much. He ran into an old friend, Fawrin, who was full of the latest rumors.

"They say a man named Annatar, who was once a friend of the elves, has turned against them." Fawrin began. "He is beginning to gathering a large force of orcs to launch an assault on Eregion."

Orin stood and pondered these "rumors," and wondered if there was any truth in them at all. "Who was, or is, this Annatar?" Orin asked.

"I don't know. All that's said is he was once a friend of the elves. Why he would all of a suddenly want to attack them is beyond me." Fawrin said.

"If he is attacking them, you mean." Orin chuckled. "Don't put faith in the whispering of the outside world. Especially if they are dealing with elves." Orin said elves in a sarcastic, demeaning way, for he did not like them very much. Except the elves of the lady of the Golden Wood. Her and her people had often had good relationships with the dwarves. Now that his mind was off elves, he still wondered where Riv was. "Have you seen Riv?" He asked Fawrin.

"No I haven't," he answered. "but I haven't gone looking for him either." They both laughed. "Well I better be off. Someone has to do the rumor spreading." Orin chuckled again as Fawrin left. He had always like Fawrin for his humor and ability to bring a smile to someone.

Orin sat down next to Bror and Skald and began to discuss the situation. Orin began to realize that the rumors weren't just rumors anymore; war was threatening and it would surely effect everyone.

"How have I been in the dark for so long?" Orin said to himself, but the others heard him.

"Because you're always locked up in your room working on who knows what." Laughed a familiar voice. Riv had finally come. He greeted everyone and took a seat, as well as getting a mug of ale, and got right into business.

‘Well, what have I missed? We’re taking a full complement of weapons . . . yes? No telling how long it might take the Elves to make their way down the Stairs and cross the valley. Or what might try to follow them.’ He took a deep drink from his cup. ‘There have been reports of Orcs sniffing about the Kheled-zaram. Or so I heard.’ He banged the metal mug down on the table’s top, a little ale foam splashing over the side. ‘Love to set my mattock in a few of their skulls and pick out what passes for brains among the filthy creatures . . .’

"Yesssss." Orin shouted in a bellowsing voice that shook the hall. The mumblings of war and Riv's talk had inspired him.

07-16-2005, 11:32 AM	#207
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,786	Dwarves of Moria Boromir88's character NAME: Orin Bronzeeyes AGE: 205 years old. (One of the eldest of the dwarves still left in Moria). RACE: Dwarf, Durin's folk/Longbeard clan. GENDER: Male WEAPONS: A, two-handed, double-bladed, battleaxe he uses for tight, cramped areas. A small one-handed iron axe used as a secondary weapon. APPEARANCE: 4'11, rather short compared to other members of his kin but he more than makes up for it. Over the years Orin has packed on a few extra pounds as well. He has a long greyish/white beard that reaches down his thighs and braids his pure white hair into one LONG ponytail. He can still wield an axe better than most and his age and plumpness have no effect on his endurance when he gets into a rage. Orin is not one to trust to armor, feeling as it slows him down (or maybe it's just become more of a burden). He does wear a mail hauberk crafted by himself. He also carries a wooden shield with a rune only he understands. PERSONALITY-STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Orin is feared as one of the best when it comes to wielding an axe in battle. Often when he sees orcs (or some foul creature) he builds into a maddening rage and you can hardly tell he is 205 years old. There lies his biggest weakness. He is lightly armored compared to the other dwarves, although he will never admit it, heavy armor becomes a burden to him. Also, with his growing age he has lost a lot of the speed in his attacks that his young nephews still have. However, his elogance and efficiency, when wielding a weapon, makes up for it. Orin is a strong believer in family and strong bonds with his kinsman. He would put the life of any of his fellow dwarves above his own. The problem is if you aren't one of his kinsmen, or a family member, he finds it hard to trust you or make friendships. He often remembers prior feuds and has trouble forgetting the past (unless you happen to be another dwarf). If you are one of the few Elves he respects then you would be grateful to have Orin at your side, but if not, then it's just best to stay out of his way. HISTORY: Orin was born 98 years before the forging of the three elven rings. He is one of the oldest dwarves still left to defend Moria. For most of his life Orin just spent most of his life learning the fine art of craftsmanship from his father, Frorin. He has never married, and has no children, but does have three nephews (being the eldest brother of their mother); Riv, Skald, and Bror. With no family of his own Orin has often tried to look after his nephews, whenever he could. Orin has lived to watch the two eldest brothers to grow up and become fine, stout dwarves. He now focuses mostly on the youngest, Bror, realizing that sometimes he has a quick temper, and can get him into some trouble. He feels that Riv and Skald are old enough now that they don't need his guidance much anymore, but that doesn't mean he cares for one more than another. He simply recognizes Bror's anger and tries his hardest to guide him and would not able to cope with the possibility of failure. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Boromir88's post Orin was well aware of the rumor of the gathering of orcs, but he was not prepared on leaving, and had no intentions to. He sat fiddling with his double-bladed battleaxe wondering what this meeting was going to be about. Most of colony had heard the whispering of threats from orcs and other dark creatures. Perhaps it is just to confirm the situation, he thought. While Orin was deep in thought he had not noticed that he cut his thumb on his axe. He smiled as he was pleased it was still sharp and if the rumors of orcs were true they aren't getting through Moria without a fight. Then it suddenly came to him, a poking pain in his thumb. It wasn't a serious cut, but it felt like one of those annoying papercuts; a sharp pain for days. Orin cleaned up his cut, grimacing a bit while doing it, and decided he should be heading off. When he got there his two younger nephews, Skald and Bror, were already there, but he had not seen Riv yet. That is odd he mumbled. He greeted his two nephews with friendly hugs and went off to sit with some of the older dwarves. He wanted to see what they knew about the matter. Most of them knew just as much, or less than Orin, which wasn't much. He ran into an old friend, Fawrin, who was full of the latest rumors. "They say a man named Annatar, who was once a friend of the elves, has turned against them." Fawrin began. "He is beginning to gathering a large force of orcs to launch an assault on Eregion." Orin stood and pondered these "rumors," and wondered if there was any truth in them at all. "Who was, or is, this Annatar?" Orin asked. "I don't know. All that's said is he was once a friend of the elves. Why he would all of a suddenly want to attack them is beyond me." Fawrin said. "If he is attacking them, you mean." Orin chuckled. "Don't put faith in the whispering of the outside world. Especially if they are dealing with elves." Orin said elves in a sarcastic, demeaning way, for he did not like them very much. Except the elves of the lady of the Golden Wood. Her and her people had often had good relationships with the dwarves. Now that his mind was off elves, he still wondered where Riv was. "Have you seen Riv?" He asked Fawrin. "No I haven't," he answered. "but I haven't gone looking for him either." They both laughed. "Well I better be off. Someone has to do the rumor spreading." Orin chuckled again as Fawrin left. He had always like Fawrin for his humor and ability to bring a smile to someone. Orin sat down next to Bror and Skald and began to discuss the situation. Orin began to realize that the rumors weren't just rumors anymore; war was threatening and it would surely effect everyone. "How have I been in the dark for so long?" Orin said to himself, but the others heard him. "Because you're always locked up in your room working on who knows what." Laughed a familiar voice. Riv had finally come. He greeted everyone and took a seat, as well as getting a mug of ale, and got right into business. ‘Well, what have I missed? We’re taking a full complement of weapons . . . yes? No telling how long it might take the Elves to make their way down the Stairs and cross the valley. Or what might try to follow them.’ He took a deep drink from his cup. ‘There have been reports of Orcs sniffing about the Kheled-zaram. Or so I heard.’ He banged the metal mug down on the table’s top, a little ale foam splashing over the side. ‘Love to set my mattock in a few of their skulls and pick out what passes for brains among the filthy creatures . . .’ "Yesssss." Orin shouted in a bellowsing voice that shook the hall. The mumblings of war and Riv's talk had inspired him. Last edited by piosenniel; 08-24-2005 at 07:05 PM.