Land of Darkness Discussion Thread

[The Perky Ent]

Hello everyone! Today, I will be applying for the position of the jailed dwarf. So, without any further delay, here is Dorim, my dwarf. BTW, good luck Himaran. Now I only wait for your post

Character Description Form:

1.) Have you ever played in an RPG before? Yes Which?
Last Hope for Moria
Last Ride of the Heir

2.) How many RPG’s on the Barrow Downs are you currently involved in?
1
List them, please:
Last Ride of the Heir

3.) Have you posted in The Green Dragon Inn or in The White Horse in Rohan? – YES – Which one? Both

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For your character please include:

NAME: Dorim Stonehewer

AGE: 55

RACE: Dwarf

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: Currently nothing. However, he needs very few weapons, as his fists are deadly when provoked.

APPEARANCE: Dorim is relatively tall for his race, and has the muscle to back it up. His eyes were once a bright blue, but are now dark and bloodshot. His face is very rough and filled with scratches. He has a large scar ranging from the right side of his brow to the bottom of his cheek. Dorim is clothed in tattered rags, sleeves stopping at the shoulders. Dorim’s bulging muscles are a site, as they always seemed to be flexed. His baldhead has many patches of black on it, and his brown, unclean beard droops down to his chest. His complexion is very dark and unclean, as he is deprived of sanitation. Dorim also has another scar running the length of his left arm. His fit to bust shoulders are a site, as they seem to pop out of his shoulders. Without a smile, Dorim’s face is relatively neutral, giving very little emotion if any. His tattered pants are unevenly ripped at his knees, making his legs and feet even dirtier than his head. Dorim’s body is filled with millions of bruises, scratches, cuts, and blisters, as he doesn’t take very good care of himself and walks barefoot. Although not poise, his posture is very strait and rock like.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Originally a jolly, naive, merry dwarf, it seems that 15 years of imprisonment have broken his spirit. All humor that was in his body is drained, and Dorim’s compassion for others is as soft as the tip of a sword. Like a stereotypical dwarf, his priorities are strictly about himself. Gaining much experience from 15 years of imprisonment, Dorim has learned many things about the Dark Powers of Mordor and their allies. This, in turn, has given him a fearless personality, thinking no force of Mordor or beyond can make him quiver. Dorim’s hatred of Sauron and all his minions are as pure and powerful as the light of the two trees. Sarcasm no longer enjoys him. He now uses his energy for one thing. Revenge. Dorim is incredibly strong, stronger than the average dwarf, yet this is not something that deserves recording. His multiple labors have given him bulging muscles, especially on his arms. Unlike his former personality, Dorim is no longer full of himself. He knows there are far better things to waste time on. Dorim’s only “weakness” is mercy. A lack of it. Imprisonment has made him so stone hard, there is little left of him for mercy. It would take a display of monumentous proportions to make Dorim show mercy. And when it comes to servants of Sauron, mercy is not a word.

HISTORY: Dorim was born in 2964 of the Third Age under the Lonely Mountain. His parents weren’t very rich, and did little to help Dorim’s future. Born in a time of peace for Erebor, Dorim quietly lived there, making a living as the owner of a tavern, making many friends. He became very wealthy, and was soon one of the most popular places to go around Erebor. His parents, however, died soon after his success, seeing their son amount to something they never achieved.

In 3004, when Dorim was twenty, he decided to see the world. He asked his friend Doram to watch over his business while he was gone. Dorim’s original plan was to hike up to the Grey Mountains, then travel down the Anduin, and come back up the same way. He visited Minas Tirith and made numerous amounts of friends. He was almost convinced to live there. Staying for a long time, he learned much of the world. The only thing that stopped Dorim from moving was a message. Dorim was shocked to find out that Doram had lost a large wager and lost Dorim’s tavern. Furious, Dorim quickly continued on his trip, so he could try to save his business. Returning on his journey, Dorim traveled along the Anduin until he reached the Bay of Belfalas. At the beach, Dorim took a flask and filled it with sand. Then he started his journey northward.

As Dorim started back up, he traveled on the eastern side of the river. Moving upward he traveled the wild, and then got on the Harad Road, walking along it for many miles. One day, while walking, a large group of Haradrim was marching south and found Dorim. Dorim fought bravely, but was overcome. In the fight, he lost all his weapons, lying helpless as the Haradrim surrounded him. Without another weapon, he threw his flask of sand at one of the Haradrim. The impact was so strong it knocked him out. Dorim then took a shard of glass and killed the man. Enraged, another Haradrim took his sword and knocked out Dorim. In the process, he face was brutally cut, giving Dorim his scar on the right side of his face.

When Dorim awoke, he found himself in bound, being carried by a group of Haradrim. Apparently, they decided not to kill him and take him prisoner in Harad. There, Dorim was left to rot in a cell, without any care. There, in his cell, Dorim hardened. His soul was crushed, and it seemed his very essence was taken from him. Dorim was nothing but an empty shell. There, he only took in things he heard from the Haradrim guarding his cell. This filled him with a newer, stronger spirit. Although not filled with evil from the Haradrim, he was filled with the strength of their tolerance for goodness. By ten years, Dorim was a rock solid, hard-core fighter.

Then, after ten years, Sauron summoned the group of Haradrim holding Dorim captive. They traveled up to Mordor, taking Dorim with him. There, they decided to enslave the dwarf in Cirith Ungol, along with other prisoners. There, he was tortured, where he got his scar on his arm. After brutal torturing, he was sent to a cell in the Tower. Five years later, his opportune moment has come. The gates of freedom have been opened.
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The Perky Ent's post:

The festering odor of orcs emanated through Dorim’s cell. The constant darkness that filled his prison remained its putrid hue. Dorim’s back was firmly against his wall, where no light could reach him. Drops of water dripped from the damp ceiling and landed in front of Dorim’s barefoot feet. Inside his head, nothing passed through Dorim’s mind. No thoughts of heroic escape or fantasies of love. Nothing, as he had nothing to live for. In the last 15 years of his life, he was deprived of purpose. The only things that could move his in-animate body was either if someone opened his cell, or if Sauron decided he was worthless and should be killed. Fortunately for him, fate would choose the first option.

Hearing a giant crash from the ceiling, Dorim didn’t bother to look up. Whatever it was, it surely wasn’t important enough. Soon after, Dorim began hearing even more loud sounds. He could hear people of all races mumbling in their cells. All races of Middle Earth had somehow found their way into the hell that Dorim waked up to every day. Then, as he closed his eyes, Dorim could feel sand from Harad beneath his feet. What little light crept into the cell vanished, as a pillar of light smiled down on Dorim. Behind him, he sensed something, and behind him was a lone Haradrim, holding a dagger. Dorim reached for his ax, finding nothing. The man was facing the other way though, not looking at Dorim. Then, another, larger beam of light came, and revealed a large group of Haradrim in a circle. They all pulled out their daggers, and began to make the circle they were in smaller. Suddenly, there was a shout, and a red bead of light shot upward from the center of the circle. Suddenly, the lone Haradrim dropped to the ground, revealing a dwarf with a piece of glass in his hand. Dorim. Suddenly, one of the men sliced Dorim’s head, and all the lights went out.

Suddenly, Dorim heard something he never thought he would here. The opening of cell doors. There was a confused merriment being flushed through the cells. It flowed past Dorim, having little effect. There were still rumbles in the ceiling, but they were significantly lighter. Suddenly, a dark figure ran to the barred door of his cell. Dorim could faintly hear the jingling of keys. Suddenly, in an instant, the dark figure opened the cell door, and ran. Dorim, if he were still as foolish as he used to be, would have stood there in amazement, pondering the occurrence. Dorim rushed out of his cell, cutting his foot on a rock. It didn’t matter. Freedom was in his grasp.

Looking out of his cell, Dorim noticed several others had been released. The fact that no guards were in sight troubled Dorim. “Maybe it’s a trap?” Dorim thought, wondering why fate had chosen this to happen. Dorim always believed in fate. He thought his capture was meant to be. That like his parents, he wouldn’t be remembered. His pessimistic thought came through Dorim’s mind every time something happened. It was just his way of looking at life. “It must be a trap! It must be! That blasted spider must be hungry!” Dorim thought, starting to back away from the exit. Then, he heard the scream of an orc, and realized something was wrong in the tower of Cirith Ungol. This was no mass feeding. It was freedom.