Golden Perch Discussion Thread

[Firefoot]

Cela will be staying at the inn.

[Celuien]

Primrose will also be staying at the Inn.

I suppose I should add a history for her.

~*~

HISTORY: Primrose was the middle child in a large family with five siblings to the household. Often feeling overlooked in the chaos of her family's small house in Stock, she would slip out to ramble the Marish on her own when not busy with chores or other tasks. At 20, she found herself eager to gain independence and came to the Golden Perch looking for a position. Primrose was accepted as assistant cook and she has happily worked under the head cook's guidance for the past 8 years, though Cela's eccentric habit of hiding important items when they are most needed (or so the relatively hot tempered Primrose interpreted her actions) always remained a source of occasional tension in the kitchen.

~*~

If it comes up, Primrose can explain why she doesn't live with her family by telling them that she never knows when the odd guest might want a snack in the middle of the night, and she wants to be ready for anything.

Celuien, nice to see you as the assistant cook

Nice to be here. I'm glad I talked myself into writing the character.

[Undómë]

Rowan will need to stay at the Inn. Her family's little farm is about twenty miles south of Stock, in Rushey.

[Folwren]

I did not get around to making out that map. The computer at work has somehow managed to aquire a bad case of . . . well, it's sick. I mean, it has a virus of some sort, and I can hardly work with it. I'll get it fixed hopefully soon. I'm sorry, Pio. Tomorrow, however, I may have time to draw out the map. I'll be home then, but I'll also be busy. I'll do my best.

Tomorrow is also when the Perch opens. Looking forward to it, everyone.

Till then.

-- Folwren

[Envinyatar]

Not a very nice fellow, is Jack!


NAME: Jack Greymoss

AGE: somewhere in his mid thirties

RACE: Man (of Breeland)

GENDER: male

WEAPONS: A blackthorn walking stick with a big knot at the upper end. An oak handled knife with a much sharpened five inch blade, worn in an old leather sheath at his belt. A sling with a pouch of sharp stones also hangs on his belt. A set of pick-locks secreted in the top of his boot.

APPEARANCE: Tall, thin. Spends much of his time hunched over, hiding in shadows. Thinning sandy hair, sallow complexion, a jagged, ill-healed scar on his left cheek gotten in a fight with local farmer and his boys. Dirty appearing – from his scuffed, run down at the heels boots, to his raggedy brown stained breeches, to his once white tunic, now bearing the history of many scrapes, scuffles, and nefarious deeds.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Always on the lookout for easy takings. Would cheat his own dear mother, save for the fact she is more crafty and wicked than he. A cowardly sneak-thief and rumor monger. The sort who likes to ally himself with those who can protect him. But if cornered is a nasty, no holds barred, fighter.

HISTORY: Born and raised in Breeland on a hardscrabble little farm, just outside The Chetwood Forest, near the Midgewater Marshes. In his early twenties he left home looking to make his own way. And that “way” has proved neither easy nor profitable. Still it is better in his opinion than being chained to the life of a farmer or any other such drudging employ. Jack picks up whatever ‘odd’ jobs he can for a hot meal and a hay-pile to sleep in . . . that, and of course, the occasional bits of nefarious pursuit to line his pocket with what coin he can.

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

And here is 'one of them Rangers' . . .


NAME: Hithadan

AGE: 50

RACE: Men – Northern Dúnedain

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: Long-sword, yew longbow, hunting knife; short iron mail shirt, plain iron helm, plain boiled leather vambraces

APPEARANCE: 6’1”(1.5m); 175 lbs(79kg); well muscled, lean; Black, straight hair; grey eyes; tanned skin. Dresses for working in: grey leggings and tunic; brown leather belt with a brass buckle; soft leather, well worn, knee high boots; grey cloak flecked with black and dark green. For more formal occasions: black tunic, breeches, and boots, black cloak with a small, old silver brooch with six-pointed star engraved on it.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: A reserved man with a dry sense of humor. Careful in his consideration of problems, he prefers to assess them from all sides. If need be he can make any necessary quick decisions as needed.

Considered a fair man, who expects others to accept the consequences of their actions. He is a realist, and not a romantic. So said, he does lack a certain sense of compassion for those who rail against what life has dealt them.

HISTORY: Born 2909 TA. Grew up in the Dunedain’s hidden fastness in the Angle. He is not married or promised at this time. He does have a younger brother, Orogil – to whose 2 young daughters, Almiel and Núneth, he is a devoted uncle.

Descended through his father from Estelmo, the squire to Elendur, Isildur’s oldest son. As far back as his family history is remembered, all the males have served as Rangers under the command of the Chieftains. Hithadan has served under Arador, Arathorn II, and now under Aragorn II, who has recently entered the service of Thengel of Rohan under the alias of Thorongil.

One of his areas of charge is the southeastern Bounds of the Shire, extending north toward the Greenhill country and east along the Brandywine. Other Rangers travels often overlapped with his, providing the sharing of recent happenings in Eriador.

The inn in Stock is one of his best sources for information in that area. A quiet way, keen ears, and the willingness to buy the next pint often brought him invaluable bits and pieces of news.

[piosenniel]

Moving this forward:


Reminders for the Inn RPG in play:

• Please remove your signature from EVERY post to the RPG thread
  
  
• Don't use smileys in your RPG posts or icons - e.g., etc.
  
  
• Don't use the 'Reason for Editing' function on your RPG posts. If it's critical that other players know that you've changed something, then put a post on the Discussion Thread about your edit.
  
  
• No OOC (out of character comments) on the RPG thread - use the Discussion Thread.
  
  
• No SAVES in the Inn.
  
  
• Swearing, sexual conduct, or obscenity of any kind are absolutely prohibited. There are no exceptions.
  
  

  . . . I always ask myself if any of these words or euphemisms for cursing would be found in Tolkien's works. So I always say no to cursing and to any 'pseudo-cursing'. They need to keep it clean. -- per The Barrow-Wight

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PLEASE be familiar with the general Guidelines for RP'ing on the Barrow-Downs - HERE

[Durelin]

Wonderful! I've wanted a chance to play a hobbit again for a while now...

NAME: Griffo Tunnelly

AGE: 91

RACE: Hobbit

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: Naught but his shepherd’s crook.

APPEARANCE: Standing at only about 3’1”, Griffo swears he has shrunken in his old age. The hair on his head and his feet has gone completely white, and though it was once very curly, it now simply wavy. He lets it go pretty wild most of the time, so it forms a rather large mess on his head, with many untidy strands and cowlicks sticking up, out, or down. His face is quite rosy, and of course clear of facial hair, thick with wrinkles and creases, some making his face look drawn and as if he is perpetually frowning. Overall, though, it is only a worn look. His eyes are a misty hazel, but are always clear and sharp; his wits are still all about him, and he has a sharp mind. He wears a loose white shirt, normally not quite completely spotless, with a green vest and dark brown pants, and he always carries hid shepherd’s crook with him (though he puts it down and out of the way when he enters the Inn).

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: He’s rather a typical old ‘gaffer,’ except for the small twist being a Took adds to him. He is to a certain extent the ‘strange old man’ type: those who know him find any strangeness to be lovable quirks, those who don’t tend to be wary of him, some even declaring him not all there in the head. But many have been called that, especially in their old age. Griffo can also be labeled as a ‘grumpy’ or ‘crotchety’ old hobbit, and he can be harsh toward strangers. He is not all that quick to trust, but he is kind and normally very civil, though his straightforward tendencies can get in the way of the latter. Griffo says what is on his mind if he feels at all free to do so, but he knows he is not so free when what he wants to say will only make a situation worse, or is will cause unnecessary pain to anyone. His judgment is somewhat loosened when he’s been drinking, though.

HISTORY: Born and raised in Tuckburrow, Griffo consented to moving to the village of Stock with his wife shortly after the two were first married, and continued working in the field he had been raised in: shepherding. His wife, Melilot Underhill, wanted to be closer to her family in Woodhall, and he was not too averse to moving away from his home, being the more adventurous one, and a very loving husband. The two had five children together: three girls and two boys. None of them are more than a few years apart, and all but one have married. His beloved Melilot has now been deceased for a little over six years. It was rather devastating for him; he had always expected to out live her. His children try to see him as often as they can, but they have their hands full with their own families, and only one of Griffo’s sons still lives in Stock. Two of his daughters have tried to talk him into living closer to them or with them, but he refuses. He stays in Stock for his wife, and would never want to be a responsibility for anyone, anyway. He spends most of his time in the Golden Perch Inn – he is either there or tending to the four sheep he still has – having held a love for its beer practically since it was first established. While at the Inn, he loves sharing stories, and sharing words of wisdom from his deceased wife. He is not necessarily trying to ‘drown his sorrows’ through all of his drinking and his time at the Inn, but simply trying to enjoy life in his way, though he can get pretty gloomy at times. And by the evening, a mix of nostalgia and alcohol make it sometimes very difficult to get Griffo to leave the Inn.

[Folwren]

Originally Posted by Durelin

He spends most of his time in the Golden Perch Inn – he is either there or tending to the four sheep he still has – having held a love for its beer practically since it was first established.

Originally Posted by Durelin

He is to a certain extent the ‘strange old man’ type: those who know him find any strangeness to be lovable quirks, those who don’t tend to be wary of him, some even declaring him not all there in the head.

Does Dick get to be one of the one's who knows him well enough to think his strangeness loveable quirks?

Glad to see you both here, Durelin and Envinyatar!

I like both your character's, Envinyatar. Especially the ranger. I like rangers a lot.

-- Folwren

[Forest Elf]

NAME: Gable/Nolwe Florwen

AGE: 21

RACE: Elf

GENDER: Female

WEAPON: Short Bow

APPEARANCE: Gable Stands just over 5'7. She has thick brown hair that has a tendency to look wavey, and is ussually braided. She's older than she looks, she look's to be about 28 and can be caught wearing boys clothes from time to time. Her round gray always catch the light.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Gable is the sort of person who dreams of adventures, and loves to hear Bilbo's stories about his adventure, and is quite good at story telling herself, though she has never been on an adventure. Sometimes her love for a good adventure can get a little carried away, and when that happens, no one ever knows what to expect from her. She is always ready to help out when someone has a problem, needs a helping hand, or just wants someone to talk to. She trusts just about anyone after talking to them and has always been known to keep a secret, even if others tease her about not telling them. She can be shy around a large crowd of strangers.

HISTORY: Gable was born in Rivendell. When she was younger she was always getting carried away in her daydreams, and every once in awhile she would run away and not come back until late at night, each time claiming to of been doing some heroic deed, though only in her imagination. The stables have always been a place she loves to visit, there is not one horse in their stable that she had not ridden at one point in her life, so she is a good horse rider. When her parents died, she stayed with an elderly pair of hobbits here in the shire, where they nick-named her Gable, and everyone has called her that ever since, though her real name is Nolwe. They were old friends of her parents and her parents had asked them if anything had ever happened to them, that they would take care of her, and she stayed with them for a few years, but they passed away when she was 17, and she has been on her own ever since, but has always kept her sence of adventure. The elderly couple had taught her how to use a short bow and a sling for throwing rocks. For the past few years has been staying in the inn, as Will's assistant.