The Fellowship of the Fourth Age (Part 1): A New Beginning Discussion Thread

[Undómë]

Nice bio, Regin!


My post is now up for the two sisters.

~*~ U

[Tevildo]

I have put up the profile for my minor character in my box. I left off the history section, which I hope is alright.

p.s. Correction .... I gave Azhar a two-sentence history. I think it says everything that could be said for anyone living in this situation.

[Thinlómien]

Just dropping in and announcing I'm alive (and playing at least one minor character later in the game) and I'm following the thread.

As my character(s) is/are coming in only in August, I assume there's no hurry for me to plan him/her/them. So, maybe nearer to August we could take a look what kind of minor character(s) the story needs.

[Novnarwen]

Profile for Major Character -- Slave escapee


NAME Aedhild

AGE: Unknown, though it is estimated to be between 42-52.

GENDER: Female

RACE: Men

WEAPONS: None, except for a sharp tongue (occasionally) and finger nails.

APPEARANCE Aedhild is a slave in appearance; the sufferings she has endured have scarred her. Her head was once covered with dark brown hair; over the last years though, grey strands of hair have become dominant. Due to blows to her head (punishment for inappropriate behaviour, few months after coming to the plantation), hair growth on the right side, just above the ear, has not occurred. This baldness is particularly visible now as her hair is thinner. Her thin face is dominated by her cool, grey eyes, which are abnormally glossy, giving her a sickly look. They appear to have a certain depth; some would perhaps say they reflected the complexity and insecurities of her character, others would claim they merely reflect her insanity. She has a delicate mouth, nicely formed lips, dull red in colour. Her nose is small and the tip is round and slightly asymmetric. Though her skin is rather dark, she appears pale and sickly. Her cheeks have sunk in, leaving her cheekbones as a prominent feature of her face. Figure wise, Aedhild is skinny and rather short. She is dressed in rags of cheap, brown and green fabric, stained to the unrecognizable by mud and other filth.

PERSONALITY: Aedhild’s personality is heavily dominated by her internal struggles. She has no roots and no or little knowledge about her background and family. Her history, her lack of memories of life without the hardships of slavery at a plantation have mainly, but not necessarily restricted to, led to abnormal and strange behaviour patterns; she assumes roles and characters at different times, not being entirely able to control or comprehend it herself. Sometimes she is violent, indeed a danger to herself, but more importantly however, a danger to others. This type of behaviour is most commonly triggered when exhausted from a day’s work or particularly hungry or cold. Under the extreme conditions she has lived her life, this behaviour has occurred at regular intervals, and though she behaves threateningly and is capable of doing unimaginable things, this has saved her lives on many occasions; the spontaneous and determined character she adopts at the same time was ultimately what managed to get her away from the plantation and slavery.

In addition to this illness or syndrome, she suffers from regular fits, which sometimes results in loss of consciousness. These fits started many years ago, after repetitive blows to the stomach and back regions, and the head. (She was beaten as a punishment for her most inappropriate behaviour (threatening one of the plantations guards), and was almost left to die in the field if it hadn’t been for some of the other slaves taking care of her.) The fits, which come irregularly and without warning, have greatly alarmed her when herself (if she ever really is herself), because they do not seem to cease over time; Aedhild might not be aware of how quickly she can change from being a silent, humble patient, but more importantly a vulnerable person, to an angry, violent (at times completely out of control) and irreversibly determined person, she is aware of the danger of the fits that occasionally occur. This weakness and vulnerability frightens her.

These difficulties have also made other people reserved in her presence; although at most times very absent-minded, Aedhild is not stupid; she is perfectly aware of people’s hesitation in approaching her either in friendship or any other relations. This awareness has made her very vulnerable, and she usually isolates herself, not wanting to be part of a bigger crowd. It also seems that her understanding of other people’s fears and hesitation trigger, if not the fits, than at least the more threatening behaviour patterns.

HISTORY: Aedhild has few memories of life prior to working at the plantations in Mordor. She has counted about twenty seven years at the plantations, but know that she was a grown woman, healthy and youthful, by the time she came to Mordor. Estimated age is in the range of 42-52. Although some features of her appearance bear resemblance to that of the Haradrim, it’s doubtful that she is a ‘full-blood’ Haradrim.

Aedhild remembers awakening by screams of horror. Suddenly, she found herself in the grasp of a horrid creature she had never set her eyes on before. Although there were a couple of people she thought she recognized, she recalls being numb and absolutely dumbfounded, unable to utter a single word; shocked by finding herself in the hands of an Orc, her body sore and aching, Aedhild could not do anything but stand still, unable to comprehend what was happening. Taken to a plantation in the eastern part of the region, she never saw the people she thought she recognized, perhaps knew in what seems to her another lifetime. The days, weeks, years after coming to the plantation have been nothing but hard work. When young, she worked in the fields, seeing to the crops and harvesting during fall. When time caught up with her, she was set to do other work, equally exhausting. During the time at the plantations as a slave, Aedhild has endured hardships that have aged her both mentally and physically.

Escaping from the plantation had been a rather spontaneous action; she and a dozen other slaves were to be transported to a nearby plantation. Although the escape seemed to have been planned by some of the other slaves, Aedhild had not been involved in any of the planning, and even to this day, she suspect that there was a hidden agenda behind their decision not to confide in her with their intentions. Regardless of her ignorance, Aedhild managed to escape with some of the other slaves nevertheless; some failed to escape, either killed by the Orcs who were involved in the transportation, or taken alive, their destiny unknown. Quickly, Aedhild found herself alone. Never in her wildest dreams would she imagine herself on her own. However, outside of the plantation, she was struck by the realisation that slavery had imprinted too many marks on her to be solely depended on herself. With no known roots, the discovery that she had nowhere to go was hard to bear; at one point, Aedhild even thought of going back to the plantation, even if it meant death.

One morning, six weeks after her successful escape, she stumbled upon some footprints, which eventually led her to the caves...

~*~



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Novnarwen's post - Aedhild


"Everywhere! They are everywhere! The devils!" Aedhild shrieked and cursed. It was early morning; the wet grass under her feet witnessed of the damp night air. The sun hadn't even rolled over the horizon, and yet, the ex-slave was up, growling. Her shrilly voice echoed; as the sound of her voice hit the stone walls of the caves, it sent out a wave of roars and noise, awakening the rest of the camp. With a peculiar expression, she jumped up and down, sprang from one side to another, twitching and shaking. The excitement reflected in her eyes seemed to belong to a being of another world; her movements were awkward and alien.

Few of the ex-slaves didn’t know that Aedhild was a highly unusual character. Already from the very beginning, they had noticed that she was different from most other they had stumbled upon in life; not only did she act irresponsibly and without thinking, but it had also become known amongst them that it was impossible to predict how she would respond to any given situation. In some cases, they would find her sitting quietly, completely avoiding eye contact, and keeping silent for hours and in rare cases days at a time. Occasionally on those particular days, she would perhaps mutter a few words, but no one could make out their meaning. Other times however, she would scream, curse, yes, act very much in the same way as she was acting now. These times, she would narrow her eyes suspiciously, walk about, and snap at people who appeared in any way she didn’t like or approve of. Unfortunately for everyone else, no one knew exactly what she did approve of. On these walkabouts, threats would roll any of the ex-slave's way, regardless of whether she had set her eyes on them before or not. The rest of the slaves had come to an agreement; though not spoken out loud, everyone seemed to share the same view on this particular matter; in sheer fright that Aedhild would do harm to anyone, or herself, sharp objects such as knives and daggers were kept from her.

“Lice! They are everywhere!” Bleary eyed and tense with excitement, the woman looked wildly around at the small group of people that surrounded her. Pointing fingers at all of them, she cursed violently, accusing each and every of them of conspiracies; her paranoia seemed endless. “You! You traitor! You have come to give us in, you sneaky scoundrel! Hand us over to them, think you are?!” As she spoke, saliva rained from her mouth. Her voice was cool and desperate, the volume increasing by a notch for every word: “He did this!” she continued, pointing directly toward a bearded youngster. “He spread those foul creatures, sent them to drive me mad! You filthy sc-sc...!!!!” Her words drowned in her screams as she sprang forwards; both her arms outstretched, she aimed for him. Terrified by this extreme behaviour and unexpected turn of events, the man named Eirnar took a few steps back, desperately looking around for a helping hand.

No on knew exactly where Aedhild came from; none of the slaves recognized her from the plantation they'd served, and even Aedhild hadn’t been able to explain in detail where she had worked and about her origins. Of appearance, she was a short, skinny woman, her skin dark, something that definitely could suggest that she was a Haradrim or of similar heritage. Other features gave another impression however, and since most people were growing tired of speculating about other slaves’ origins, Aedhild remained like many others; a slave with no past, who had just recently found freedom, the latter being obviously the most important point of focus. Aedhild was neither remarkably ugly, nor remarkably pretty. Her once perhaps handsome face seemed aged with the hardships she had endured. Her cheekbones had become slightly too prominent in her face during the last couple of years to make her appear beautiful, but her mouth was delicately formed and gave if not a pleasant appearance at least a hint of kindness. Sadly, the pallor of her face was sickly, and her pair of unusually grey, glossy eyes seemed to dominate her face altogether now. As her age was starting to show, her once dark brown hair was thinning with a hurried pace, and the bald spot on the right side of her head seemed to become more and more obvious. Years of abuse and beatings had marked her, more than she would ever come to realise herself.

As she came nearer, she closed her right hand into a fist. Still screaming, she hit him with all her might. It is difficult to say whether it was the power of that particular blow or if it was the shock of being hit by a stranger, a supposed ally, that made Eirnar stagger for a moment; regaining his balance however, he quickly managed to manoeuvre out of her way, avoiding a second blow. With one hand caressing his already red cheek, he grasped a hold of the short woman with the other. Aedhild wailed in horror; she kicked, spat and cursed, trying to loosen the man’s grip; “You traitor! You want to take me back! ”

Their eyes met for second; her grey eyes cool, but still empty of emotions. With a quick blow, Eirnar struck her unconscious. She never heard the man uttering a few words: "That will calm you down." Only those close by could hear the heavy heartedness in the tone of his voice.


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MINOR CHARACTER


Nonarwen's character - ex=slave

NAME: Eirnar

AGE: 29

GENDER: Male

RACE: Man of Gondor

WEAPONS: A rather robust knife he stole from an Orc as he fled. He's also made himself a club/bat-looking object of hard wood.

APPEARANCE: Eirnar is tall and skinny, but yet stout, with broad shoulders. He has a pleasant and friendly face; small, grey eyes, big nose and gloriously red lips. His chin is covered by a short brown beard. Like the other slaves, Eirnar is dressed in rags. He wars a pair of short pants and a grey shirt; on top of it, he wears a long, brown frockcoat of thin fabric.

PERSONALITY: Despite the sufferings he has endured as a slave, Eirnar is considered to be a both positive and outgoing person. Having escaped slavery, he has been given hope for a better future; his sufferings at the plantations have made him realise that he is very lucky to have escaped alive, and he values everything about his new existence, even though life is hard and primitive yet. He has great expectations for the future, and will rather take his own life than go back to being a slave.

Though the Gondorian isn't particularly bright, he is a man of action and very hardworking. Often, he rushes into situations and isn't always able to imagine the consequences of his actions. Sometimes, he isn't as thorough in his work as others perhaps hope he would be. He is on the other hand very humble, and glad to acknowledge his mistakes and do something to make up for them.

HISTORY: During the early years of the war against Sauron, Eirnar and his family were taken from Gondor to serve as slaves at the plantations in Mordor. His parents served at the same plantation as himself, but he was separated from his sister. At first, Eirnar wasn't able to handle his new existence and resisted it. Time after time, he was beaten. Soon enough however, he learned that as long as he was so young and weak resistance wouldn't get him anywhere. Eirnar managed to flee from the plantation some 3-5 years ago (he has lost track of time). He regrets the fact that his mother was too old to be able to follow, that his father died few months before his escape and that his sister seems lost to him forever.



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Durelin, Child - If you want me to change anything, I am happy to rewrite. Just let me know.

Thanks for your patience,
Nova

PS! I will be away a couple of days in early July, and a couple of days late July. I hope that won't be a problem... I should be able to catch up and write at least a post to insert somewhere...

[Durelin]

Nice bio, Novnarwen, and it's really good to see you again!

There's only one issue - the ex-slaves are a gang, you know, a tough bunch, who did routine raids until they ran into the group of slave-escapees. You've mentioned adding something to her history, and perhaps that might fit her into the gang somehow. I'm definitely not saying 'no' to your character, just asking that you fit her into the gang somehow. She could be a woman of any age. The gang's not a horrible bunch. But they're a practical bunch, I'm thinking, and everyone would have had their place until the recent escapees showed up. (Once they showed up, they had all these pesky hapless men, women, and children running around... )

She probably would have been free for a little while at least (and quite possibly years), and would have a kind of place as a part of the 'gang.' And she quite possibly would also be armed with a knife/dagger of some sort, and not be afraid to use it...remember, practical. I don't want you to have to make a great deal of adjustments, so if you need help fitting her in somehow, just let me know.

At least, that's how I see things. Please, strike me down Child if you perceive things differently.

[Orofaniel]

NAME: Reagonn (Ree-a-gonn) Ex-slave

AGE: In his twenties.

RACE: Human

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: An old dagger, and a knife he keeps in his belt at all times.

APPEARANCE: Reagonn is skinny and slim, which gives the impression that he is taller than he really is. He is weak and pale, due to the hard work at the plantation for several years. Reagonn looks far older than he actually is because if his grey eyes which are filled with the horrors and cruelty he has experienced in his life thus far. Reagonn wears an old dirty shirt with several holes and rips, and pants that are too short for him. His boots will no longer stay dry when exposed to water, a clear sign that they are worn-out and in need of replacement. His shabby looking appearance dominated by the scars in his face, and the long busy dark hair, might seem intimidating to some.

PERSONALITY: Reagonn is a quite intelligent and when rested and well he is not easily distracted. Under the cruel circumstances in which he has spent most of his life, he has learned to be observant, a skill proven very advantageous to him in the past. Reagonn does not easily trust people, nor does he feel any loyalty to anyone but himself. He cannot help feeling betrayed, or abandoned by his parents, (although it was never confirmed that they actually did abandon him), thus he cannot let go of the bitterness inside of him. Reagonn is a good speaker and can easily get his ideas across to others.

Reagonn gets frustrated in situations where one ought to keep one’s head cool however, which makes him vulnerable and sometimes even weak.

HISTORY: Reagonn has no memory whatsoever about his origins. He knows that he was taken into slavery as a young child. He does not know anything about his parents, whether they are still alive, living on a plantation, dead or whether they joined the forces of Mordor when Sauron still ruled. Nor does he care. He has always felt this sense of being abandoned by them, yet it cannot be confirmed that they actually did abandon him.

Throughout the years of slavery, he lost track of time, which explains he fact that he does not know his exact age.

Shortly after the fall of Sauron, Reagonn and a younger lad planned their escape from slavery. They managed to flee from the plantation in haste, but to their great despair, they were recaptured shortly after. The younger boy, also called Bornir, had been a close friend of Reagon for several years. However, upon their return to the plantation they were both punished severely – which explains the two scars in Reagan’s face, and several on his back. Although their punishments were considered mild compared with others who for instance had their tongue removed, Bornir passed away due to the infections in his wounds and the blood loss. Of course, Reagonn found it difficult to cope with, as it had been his only and closest friend, thus pledged to revenge his death.

Reagonn had started to plan another escape and the revenge of Bornir’s death, but then just a week later a fire broke out on the plantation. The fire spread quickly to the shelters where the slave slept during the night, and full chaos broke out. Many slaves died due to the heavy smoke, but a handful of slaves decided to take advantage of the situation and managed to sneak out and escape from the plantation. Reagonn of course, was one of them. Being preoccupied by the fire, no one noticed the few slaves that escaped and none of them were caught. They parted however, deciding that it was wisest to go different ways in case they were being followed.

A couple of days later Reagonn met Khamir and a small group of other ex-slaves “hiding” in caves. Reagonn was allowed join them and together they struggle to survive.

Reagonn has not fulfilled the pledge he made after Bornir’s death, yet there is still time…


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Orofaniel's post - Reagonn

There was a blaze of heat. Reagonn awoke in his shelter discovering that it was filled with thick, dark grey smoke. He quickly noticed the wave of panic that spread among the slaves and soon cries of agony and horror filled Reagon’s ears. Still half-asleep, he managed to get up and at this point, his instincts were quite clear: he felt the urge, or moreover the necessity, to escape from this place. Nevertheless, as he got up he could feel the years of labour finally sink in, and he became utterly disorientated and confused. The legs beneath his crippled body now seemed to fail to support him, and he fell slowly to the ground with a short thud.

The blaze was now spreading rapidly, and he could feel his senses weakening as he inhaled the poisonous smoke. Feeling suffocated, he witnessed the masses of slaves running past him as they hurried to get out, he tried to cry out for help, but his voice failed to cut through the loud voices and the sounds of cracking building material. The ceiling in the left corner of the shelter now started collapsing, and Reagonn could see two slaves running as fast as they could to avoid being trapped beneath the burning wood – all in vain. They cried out as the heavy material hit them, and although chaos surrounded him and the air was filled with voices, Reagonn could somehow feel the vibrating silence from the left corner of the shelter. As he crawled further towards the exit, he knew his last minutes had come. Feeling trapped, Reagonn felt helpless and utterly alone. Yet, the situation did not distress him, like it might have distressed others. On the contrary Reagonn now felt somewhat relieved; finally, he was to be realised from the pain…the suffering…the agony in which he had lived for years. Reagonn had waited for this moment.

Nevertheless, the fright that suddenly struck him was not at all unexpected.

“Get up,” someone cried.

Alarmed by this command, he came to his senses, and trying to regain his balance, he stood up. Walking more steadily now, he felt that things were clearer. Almost all the slaves had evacuated by now, yet he could still hear cries, although he could not conclude whether they came from inside the shelter or outside. Reagonn turned and watched the flames surround him and the lifeless bodies on the ground; They were victims of this ruthless fire... In the life-threatening situation, Reagonn did not have much time to think, yet he could not help feeling sorry for these slaves. He had laboured with for many years and now he was witnessing the miserable fate they had faced.

Would this be his destiny as well?

Witnessing this he realised that it was time for his second attempt to escape. Not only from the fire, but from the plantation.

**

The palm of his hand felt sweaty against the pale skin of his face. He was half-asleep, half awake. This dream, which he had dreamt so many times before would not leave him. These shadows, these nightmares, from the plantation tormented him, and continued to confuse him. And always, near fully awaking, he saw the same face…the same smile and the very same expression in front of him – in the redish monstrous flames. A younger self started back at him, almost identical, yet some of his features shared no resemblance with his own, whatsoever. He was around Bornir’s age, his only friend in life whom had been brutally punished by the plantation’s master - yet it wasn’t him. Thinking about Bornir he could felt enraged, yet this time he felt a wave of pure hatred and rage build up inside of him like never before. After that was just the bitterness...The bitterness he was used to.

Who was he? There was no answer, just a blur of confusion, a foggy maze with no beginning or end. More questions rose, only to be forgotten again while silently awaking from this horror of a nightmare. Like so many times before he awoke while clutching his knife and gasping for air. His eyes were wide open filled with dread as he felt the pearls of sweat running down from his forehead.


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Minor Character - Slave escapee

NAME: Liviol (Lii-vi-ol)

AGE: Almost twenty

RACE: Men

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS:He has his wit, his creativity and his fists if needed.

APPEARANCE: His skin is rather dark, yet after having laboured at the plantation for so long, he has grown paler and weaker. He is not as skinny as most of the other slaves though, but he is quite tall. His dark hair reaches his shoulders. Some of his more prominent facial features: high cheekbones and a large chin. He wears an old greyish shirt, and some old pants. In his belt, he used to carry a knife, but it was stolen from him.

PERSONALITY: Liviol is creative, and quite imaginative. However, he likes to keep to himself, having had the experience that this is the only way to keep out of trouble. He is not very well spoken, nor is he very social. He is quite egocentric, as he has learned that it is necessary if he wishes to survive. At times, he might seem paranoid, and ill tempered. Yet, overall, Liviol is not an arrogant person, nor is he evil. He has just spent his life on a plantation and has therefore learned that the only way he will survive is to take care of oneself.




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I hope it's Ok. Please do tell me if it needs editing.



Cheers,
Oro

[Regin Hardhammer]

I put up the post for my minor female orc. It's longer than I expected.