Númenórean Blood Runs Black Planning/Discussion Thread

[Folwren]

Pio,

My ship's name is going to be Cuivië, and the sword, though it doesn't have to be placed on the Discussion thread, is Gayaros.

-- Folwren

[Thinlómien]

I'll actually post my first post tomorrow, because I would like to read Kath's first post before writing my own and I'm a bit in a hurry, because I have to clean my room and study spanish today...

And if there's someone who's confused with my gender (for I know some people were in WWJ and in How do you imagine other BDrs -threads), I'm a she.

[piosenniel]

Bringing this forward:


Character/Player List


Gondorian Forces

First Ship -- The Cuivië

• King Telumehtar Umbardacil – The Perky Ent
• Advisor/Record Keeper to the King – Menelcar – Firefoot
• Sea Captain - Captain Hereric - Folwren

~*~

Second Ship -- The Ráca

• Captain - Captain Mirimon Vórimandur - Alcarillo
• Soldier - Nimir - Dunwen
• Soldier - Lingwë - Thinlómien
• Soldier - Curamir - Kath

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Corsair Forces

Ship -- The Fame and Fortune

• Lord of Umbar - Azaryan – Hiriel
• Lord of Umbar - Sangalazin - Anguirel
• Corsair Captain - Captain Chatazrakin Telmenzar (Rakin) - Amanaduial the archer
• Slave - Ferethor Steele – Eorl of Rohan
• Slave - Jagar - dancing spawn of ungoliant
• Slave - Chakka - Fordim Hedgethistle

[Kath]

POSTED TO THE DISCUSSION THREAD ~*~ PIO


Aye Eorl my name is short for Katherine, and Eorl is a male name! Eorl of Rohan - come on! Anyway as to your comments.

Er, your mother was a manic depressive (I did mention that in the post I showed you, I think.) and Fere hardly ever showed up at home, so, a happy childhood? Not likely..

No, I want a happy childhood. They would not have married if they were that screwed up and I only have 3 years so leave them alone! Ferethor can have gone crazy after his wife died can't he?

Mother died soon after childbirth, that is why you only remember your dad, and the reason that after Ferethor's disappearance you were sent off to your only surviving relative, your grandfather.

There, Ferethor would have had to be at home now wouldn't he? But I'll edit the childbirth bit in.

As you wish. Specifics would be nice.

Building, neigbourliness - it just seemed silly to put it in, I assumed you'd understand sorry.

Who'd say that is a liar. True, Ferethor did love your character, but he was the kind of person who'd die with mortification if anyone, and that includes you, ever thought that he felt any kind of affection toward anything at all. He'd never have let his feelings show in front of anyone else... Except for his drinking partners. That's one weakness of his. He talks when he drinks, and so the people at the tavern might know.

Ok so I've spoken to some of his drinking buddies, they'd still live there.

Yay! You're learning to use commas!
Ha ha ha

Thinlomien my post will be up soon but I have to eat first!

EDIT: Here it is

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Kath's character

NAME: Curamir

AGE: 17

RACE: Man

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: He always carries a small dagger, as it was a present from his father when he was very young. He has used it as a hunting knife for many years and treats it almost as a good luck charm, sure of success if he hunts with it, which he hopes will apply for fighting as well. He also carries a rather battered though perfectly good sword. His family is not rich so he did as many odd jobs as possible for the people in his town and used the money he got from that to obtain an acceptable sword. Both sword and dagger are kept in sheaths on his belt, the sword on the left hand side and the dagger on the right. For armour he wears that which he was given when he joined the army. He has the helmet with its protective cheek and nose guards, a leather jerkin with the Tree of Gondor on it and a chainmail shirt.

APPEARANCE: He has dark hair that resists even the most persistant sun and hangs to his shoulders when loose, so he usually has it tied back out of the way. His eyes are dark but it is difficult to determine the colour as they change with shifting light and emotions. He is tall at 6 foot two and always carries himself to his full height. He has a strong build developed from years of working to repair buildings and helping with the farming in his area, with broad shoulders and thick arms. He has proud features, but thanks to his height and almost regal way of carrying himself they suit him and he does not look cruel. His skin is naturally pale but years of working outside have tanned him to a light brown pretty much all over. Being proud of his uniform he wears it almost constantly, and merely exchanges his jerkin and chainmail for a shirt if he wishes to appear in civilian clothing.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: He is very friendly and makes friends at the drop of a hat, having an easy confidence about him. He is honest and well mannered, without much of a temper to him. He tends to think clearly and logically, though in the heat of the moment his tongue may get the better of him. Having been the man of the household for most of his life he can seem older than his years, but he is still a child and if things don't go the way he expects or wants he can sometimes behave like one, though his army training has helped with this a great deal. He is eager and willing to learn, so he studies and practises hard, gaining his skills with relative ease. Though he has no particular speciality in any kind of fighting, he is good at all the basic skills and shows great potential as a swordsman. He does become very engrossed in things he cares about, and this can sometimes cause a problem as he does not notice the effect his relentlessness can have on others.

HISTORY: Born into a family of very young parents his early years were still happy, with a mother and father who cared for him deeply. However when he was three his father was called away to fight and never came back. His mother died soon after and so he was raised by his grandfather with the help of various members of his town so he had strong male role models and learnt the skills he needed to be a valuable member of the community. His grandfather blamed his father for his mothers death and often spoke ill of him, but others in the area remembered how loving Ferethor had been toward his son and with this disagreement and his own memories of being loved his grandfather never convinced him that this was true. His grandfather wanted to prevent him going into to the army,and becoming like his father, but there were so many arguments over this subject that he eventually allowed him to go. At 15 he left home for Lossarnach, to begin his training as a soldier. He has now been in training for 2 years. During this time he heard rumours about his father, and how his body was never found. Becoming curious he asked as many people as possible for stories and information about the battle in which his father was lost and discovered that no one could give a clear answer as to what had actually happened. Wanting to know more, he volunteered for the Corsair mission as he thought the sailors might know something.


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Kath's post

Curamir stepped onto the walkway with a sigh of relief as the world stopped rocking. He had never been on a ship before and the constant swaying had him falling over at every turn. Fortunately Vórimandur the captain had been busy with the preparations for departure and had not seen the somewhat deplorable skills his newest soldier had. Unfortunately, the crew has. The sailors laughed as he stumbled past them trying to keep his balance and even the other soldiers had shared amused grins at his lack in sea legs. Still, he’d had some time to get used to the movement now, and as long as he didn’t watch the horizon dipping up and down he was able to prevent himself from throwing up.

He had been on board since the early morning as the captain had requested and he had intended to ask the crew some questions about his father, as he had assumed that while the ship was in the harbour they would be less busy. He had been wrong, as he had found out when he tried to nab a passing sailor and had received a few choice words once the man realised Curamir only wanted to talk.

“Don’t you realise we’re preparing for a voyage boy? If you’re not going to be helpful then don’t be here at all!”

And he had disappeared without another word. Chagrined and not daring to try again with anyone else, Curamir had stowed his meagre amount of personal items in his bunk and gone up on deck to find Lingwë, his friend from his training days who was also on the mission. He hoped being with would stop him asking foolish questions and disturbing the crewmen, as Lingwë had heard a lot about his father over the years, and was sick to death of it. Once Curamir had found him the two were soon put to work making sure all the necessary supplies were on board, and as they carried box after box to it’s rightful place they chattered eagerly about the upcoming encounter.

“Do you think we’ll actually get to fight?” Lingwë had asked.

“I don’t know. Don’t they usually try to negotiate first? You know, sort it all out without fighting.” He had replied, wondering as he did so just how this mission was going to end.

“Oh maybe. In that case I hope we get to go aboard the Corsair ship, what a story to tell back home!”

“If you live to tell the tale.” Curamir had said with a grin, and received a thump on the arm in retaliation.

Once they had finished the chores that had been set the two friends decided to go ashore and explore the town a little. This was a new place for both of them and as the ship would be leaving soon they were keen to see as much as they could. Curamir was also keen to get onto some dry land, as he knew this would be the last for a while! Now though he was thinking less of what was to come and more of what was around him. The fishy smell that permeated everything was all around, and the stalls in the market place that they had just entered seemed to be the centre of it, holding every kind of fish Curamir could think of.

They walked on and wandered down a back street, looking for something more interesting that wouldn’t be seen by anyone in the more open areas of the town, but just as they found a promising looking street a call rang out from the market square they had previously been in.

“Captain Vórimandur orders that all soldiers serving aboard his ship return immediately!”

Turning to look at his friend Curamir sighed.

“Another time, perhaps”

“When we come back.” Answered Lingwë.

They turned and walked briskly back to the ship.


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Ok Thinlomien let me know if you want anything changed since I have used you character through this.

~*~

NOTE: Let me know when you're done editing this post and I'll transfer it to the discussion thread. ~*~ Pio

[Eorl of Rohan]

Originally Posted by Fordim Hedgethistle

One other point: I don't think that there would be "shifts" or "quarters" for the slaves -- historically, at least, slaves would spend their lives chained to their oars. They would eat, sleep, everything right there on the slavedeck. Once in a while they would be released to go up on deck and exercise, but that's it.

Please note: As His Royal Perkiness has decreed that there shall be no shifts, so I adhere to his wishes. However, I am merely stating the facts here.

Here I am forced to disagree. In fact, I don't think the 'historical facts' that you put up with such assurance is actually real. The popular perception of galley slave's life derives from twopenny novels and movies, I'm afraid, contrary to reality, reason, and common sense. Think about it.

Galleys, especially pirate ships, have to be constantly on the move. For instance, who would row while the slaves are sleeping? For sleep they must, if they are men. Every second is precious in battle and few hours of the ship being immobile would be disasterous. If it is discovered suddenly and pursued, and the slaves were sleeping, there would be no time to wake the slaves, and even if it could be done quickly, they would be so tired from the day's work that they would be of little use. Also, what of excretion? Yes, slaves do have needs, although the romance novels do not dwell on the fact. How would they excrete if they do everything chained to the decks, sleeping and eating and everything else? Of course, they could do it there, but corsairs are not so stupid as to allow that and yet contagion wipe them all out on the high seas. Then? Would they be all released at the same time to go to the washroom? But then, they easily risk an insurrection. Not only that, rowing is a harder work than people imagine - I am not telling you that it is impossible for a grown man to row eighteen hours a day, under extreme restraints, merely that it is NOT efficient. You row for more than a few hours, your limbs cramp and harden, your muscles protest, and despite the threat of the whip hanging over your head, the repetitive work saps your strength, so that by the end of the day, however much you try, you can't row with one-third of the power that you started out with. Of course the pirates have no mercy, but they have cunning enough to know this, see? Shifts are the natural solution to all these problems. Where in 'history' was it said otherwise?

Please Note Again: I would have sent this through PM, but Fordim said something about needing to tell this on the thread to make everything clear to others.

Note #3: Yes, I am prone to delivering long rants and getting excited over every small thing, but this doesn't mean that I think any less of the other - actually, I admire Fordim very much.