Farmer in the Dale Discussion Thread

[Nurumaiel]

Here's a little Daisy-lass for you to consider, Arwen! Or would you prefer Fëa?

1.) Have you ever played in an RPG at the Barrow Downs? - Yes: The Long Winter, The Hobbit's Gift (owned), Holiday in the Sun (cameo), In the Shadow of the Star, Corsairs and Corsets (co-owned), Breelanders All! (cameo), Hills of Evendim

2.) How many RPG?s on the Barrow Downs are you currently involved in? -- 1

List them, please:

-Friends of Nimrodel

3.) Have you posted in The Green Dragon Inn? ? Yes

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NAME : Daisy Whitfield

AGE : 8 years

RACE : Man

GENDER : Female

WEAPONS : Daisy carries no weapons, though some people say her eyes might prove dangerous to the hearts of boys someday.

APPEARANCE : Daisy is a graceful little child who tries to behave as she believes her mother would wish; that is as a lady. She is beginning to grow taller already, though some think it strange she should have her growing spurt so early in her years. She is not a particularly beautiful child, though most think that will change in years. She has never especially regretted being one of those girls that will not turn into beauties until they are older. She is not ugly, either, but she is merely not pretty. Her beauty lies mainly in her sweet, sparkling brown eyes. Unconsciously she will charm others with these eyes by looking at one, dropping her eyes in shyness, and then raising them again with a sweet little smile. Like her eyes, her hair is brown and while it is naturally straight it is only ever seen in slight waves for she braids her hair every night.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES : Daisy, as has been mentioned before, tries with all her heart to behave as a lady should, but that doesn't mean she doesn't enjoy unladylike activities. At such a young age she still finds more pleasure in romping about with the boys than sitting at her needlework. She is not a 'tomboy,' however, and would detest to be described as such. She merely enjoys the games that she plays with the boys, though she she also finds pleasure in cooking.

Ah yes, cooking. Daisy may not care much for needlework (though it can be enjoyable at times), but she loves cooking dearly. Perhaps it was because she was encouraged in a charming way at a young age. When she was five she, with the help of her mother, made little cakes for her elder brother and some of his friends, and they showered her with compliments, blissfully eating the cakes and saying every now and then she was the best cook in the world. Fond memories of this inspire her to please more through her cooking talents.

For Daisy loves most to please people. Her little heart is only happy when she sees others happy, and she weeps when others weep. She has also been described as 'very motherly.' She enjoys caring for others and watching out for them, and feels an urge to protect them from danger if they cannot protect themselves.

Daisy is a very imaginitive little thing, which often causes her to fall into trouble with her parents. At times she will not hear her mother calling for she is out somewhere gazing at the sky and imagining she lives in the clouds, or perhaps she will forget an errand in her bliss over a glorious sunrise. She talks entirely too much, some people say, but others enjoy her prattling way. When she does talk she says interesting, imaginitive things and so most don't mind. Another thing that must be confessed is that she will cry very easily. Disappointments, injuries, scoldings, fear -especially if any of these things happen to someone else- and many other things reduce her to tears in a moment. She battles bravely against her tears, but at times cannot surpress them. Beauty, too, will make her eyes fill.

HISTORY : Daisy Whitfield was born to _______ and _______ Whitfield, the second in a family of two. Her little life has in fact been occupied with nothing exciting, but if she were tell someone what she imagined about her life there would be no end to the grand and glorious adventures she has had. However as she is convinced to stick to bare facts, she was born in Dale and has spent her eight years there, helping her mother about the house, and playing and dreaming (and cooking!) in her spare time.

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Nurumaiel's post

The little brown-haired girl sat under the shade of a tree, finding comfort in the fact that there was at last a shady spot to keep her protected from the sun. After a glance to make sure no one was about, she turned her eyes to the tree and placed a tender kiss on its rough bark, murmuring her thanks to it for its gallantry in defending her from the sun. She smiled regretfully up at the sun, spreading her arms as if she were questioning what else she could do, and then fixed her eyes on some little clouds flitting across the sky and dancing together. A rapturous little sigh burst from her and she clasped her two small hands together, her brown eyes shining. If a passerby had looked into those eyes, he would have seen at once that her heart was not in Dale any longer but flying about to dance with those clouds.

Daisy Whitfield had always been a dreamer, and folk had resigned themselves to the fact that she always would be. They had nothing against dreamers, or so they said, but there was something queer about the way her being fled her body to travel in some other realm, and only a sharp word spoken would bring her back to the solid ground again. She was a sensible child and a great help to her mother about the house, but folk felt that the term 'down-to-earth' would not be appropriate for her.

Daisy Whitfield danced with the clouds before pulling herself away to rise to her feet and climb the tree and perch in reality amid its green branches. There, now she felt closer to the sky and more akin to it. She let her brown head rest against the trunk of the tree and once again set about to dancing with the clouds. A soft wind rustled the leaves of the tree and made her long skirt billow out; so absorbed was she in her dreamings that she did not notice her skirt and been blown above her knees and could not pull it down again with maidenly blushes.

Caught up still in her dreamings, she wondered what it would be like to really dance with the clouds, like that large bird with scales was doing now. It had seemed to come from nowhere, but it made the dancing clouds seem more alluring. It was a beautiful thing, she reflected, and it would be interesting to ride on its back. Perhaps she would imagine she was riding on its back. She had never seen a bird so big... nor had she ever seen a bird with scales.

Her face paled, her lips opened in a soundless scream, and her little heart seemed to stop a moment before it resumed to beat: a loud, pounding beat that made her short of breath. She stared in wordless terror at the scaled bird and then a little scream did burst from her. Closing her eyes tightly, she buried her face against the trunk and tried to imagine the creature away. Opening her eyes again, she saw it was still there, and terror possessed her. But her limbs did not go numb, as they did so often in her nightmares. Instead speed was lent to her, and she slid from the tree with remarkable agility. Her eyes widened as she stared at the creature, and she realized again what it was.

The creature was a distance away, but it was growing steadily closer and Daisy could see the gleam of gold that dazzled from its scales when the sun fell upon it. Yet she was not enraptured by this sight. Beautiful, yes, but its beauty was lost to her and she saw it as only terrible. She pulled her skirts up to give her legs more freedom and ran, the tears of terror beginning to flow from her eyes. She had wandered far from home and she was frightened she would not reach the safety of her mother in time. She ran with all her strength, trying to imagine that the creature wasn't winging behind her.

But it was.

Her feet began to drag and her side burned like fire. But she ran still, until she saw her own house up ahead. A painful, breathless sob of relief burst from her and she began to slow a little. And then her feet stopped. She had run nearly a mile without a pause and her trembling little legs collapsed underneath her. Pitifully she crawled to the side of the road and buried herself against the side of the house in the shade of the tree. But it brought her no comfort. A tree could protect her from the sun; it could not protect her against the monster. She buried her face in her little hands and wept in despair.


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[ArwenBaggins]

Thanks for your continued interest Nuru! You're most definitely in. And you all can call me Fëa, by the way.

Players wishing to play the Whitfield adults:

You may have to craft your character's description slightly around Nuru's Daisy. It might be just odd if we have two parents with bright red hair and blue eyes and their children complete opposites. She has brown hair and brown eyes.

Thanks everyone!

~Fëa

[Kransha]

Greetings, all! Just your friendly dragon checking in on current progress. Looking over the first accepted characters, this is most certainly going well. I, playing Smaug (the Magnificent), will be assisting with the story arc by basically destroying things everywhere and making it very hard to do anything. I look forward to reading your posts in this particular game and hope the outcome will be one of enjoyment...

[Araréiel]

Here's my post for consideration. I'm new at this type of RPG. I'm used to one in which we have points and stuff. But you can take my character or leave her.

This is my first attempt at a character other than an Elf. This post was a bit difficult to write as I kept having to cross-reference what four other characters (the husband and children) were doing at the same time to tie them all together.

If I didn't do this right, or you don't want this character for whatever reason, just let me know.

1.) Have you ever played in an RPG at the Barrow Downs? Does the Green Dragon Inn count? EDIT by Pio - the Green Dragon does not count as an actual RPG

2.) How many RPGs on the Barrow Downs are you currently involved in? -- EDIT by Pio - "none"


3.) Have you posted in The Green Dragon Inn? ? Yes



NAME: Willow Millwind

AGE: 34

RACE: Man

GENDER: Female

WEAPONS: She is rather adept with a bow and sword. Her father insisted she learn the ways of weaponry with her brother.

APPEARANCE: Willow is tall and graceful. Fair of complexion, her deep chestnut eyes have just a tint of gold. Her mahogany hair tumbles in curls down her back. While growing up on a farm, she was raised primarily indoors to be a housewife, and it shows. She has none of the rough look as one might expect.

PERSONALITY: Always treat others kindly. Her father expected no less. Just be happy and do your best. Her mother expected no more. Willow grew up well-educated, and part of this comes great empathy for others. She is kind, gentle, and considerate, and considers her place to be in the home, caring for her family. She considers her brother to be one of her best friends.

HISTORY: Willow was born in the Dale itself a few years after her brother. She was one of two girls born that day to her mother, the younger, and the only one to survive. This may explain why she herself had twins. Her mother had a son and younger twin daughters, she had a daughter and younger twin sons. Her father insisted that she be educated, her mother insisted that she be reared as a proper young lady. Married at 18, she birthed a daughter two years later, and named the child after her own middle name. Years later she bore twin sons, a delight. She takes great pride in raising her family to be strong and well bonded, close to her brother's family.


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Araréiel's post

Sunlight streamed through the freshly cleaned windows of the tidy kitchen. Heat emanated from the oven, lunch nearly prepared. Willow Millwind glanced out the window, wondering where her husband and children were. It was uncommon of them to be late. She pulled the buns from the oven and placed them on a plate. Grabbing a bowl of fresh-churned butter, she headed to the table. A noise outside distracted her and she headed instead to the door, setting the butter on a near-by chair. Pushing the door open with her foot, she stepped outside.

"Lunch is ready, my big men!" Willow looked with pride on her handsome husband, still as much in love with him today as they day they married. She gave him a kiss, and laughed as Eli cried out how gross kissing it. She ruffled the already-messy hair of her son, marveling in how much he looked like his father. Eli ran in through the door, and Willow caught a glimpse of her other children settling into their places for lunch, the twins fighting over who sat where, her daughter settling the fight. Hoping to not be heard, Willow leaned close to her husband and whispered, "How was he today? You did not have him sit in the sun too long, did you?"

"No dear. He sat under the dogwood tree most of the time- he came out for naught of five minutes to hand me a stake and hurry home. Do not worry," He kissed her and chuckled as he entered the doorway. His wife always worried about the children in the sun, worried they would burn. For this reason, none of them ever had.

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Lunch was long-finished. Soon it would be time to start preparing supper. Eli had picked on his brother horribly, this time for being a tad bit shorter. Eric had tried to defend himself, saying he looked more like Papa, that Mama always said so. Eli had thrown his bun at Eric, causing a fight as Willow hadn't seen in her table in years. She had forced her sons to clean up the mess, not caring who started what, only angry that they had participated in such a display of tempers.

She glanced down at the sewing she was doing. Those boys sure were tough on their clothing, and needed lots of repairs. But this was special. She was sewing a delicate white gown. It would have a white sash and lots of embroidery in shades of blue, pink, and the palest of green. Elanor worked so hard to help out, and Willow wasn't sure Elanor fully knew how much she was appreciated. This gown was beautiful, the gown she described for her daughter in stories of princesses as a child, but impractical, and she was glad to be finishing the last of the embroidery. The gown was complete, and she would give it to her daughter as supper that night. She carefully folded the garment and put it in a box, ready to surprise her eldest child, for Elanor knew nothing of the dress. The child sewed so much for others. She deserved a treat, and didn't understand why her mother had asked her to do mending in the afternoon instead of after supper, but she complied anyway. Willow just needed her out of the kitchen.

Elanor's favorite meal was turkey. Not chicken, but turkey. So Willow cut up the bird to cook it faster. Time had flown and she was running low on time. If she quartered the bird it would be done in time. She seasoned the bird with some pepper, dried garlic, salt, and some parley, and placed it in the oven, dousing it with a bit of lemon juice before closing the heavy iron door. Humming to herself, she peel the potatoes, toss them into a cast iron pot, fill with water, place on stove. Oh, how she hated peeling potatoes! But it must be done. The cream on the counter, she chopped up more garlic. When the potatoes were done boiling, she'd mash them with the garlic and cream. Elanor's favorite. Thankfully, Elanor's favorite dessert was strawberry shortcake. Shortcake is simple to make, and Willow sliced the strawberries and tossed them with a bit of sugar, singing now as she started whipping a bit of cream with sugar to make it fluffy. Satisfied with the texture, she sat back down to wait for the food to cook.

Smells of seasoning began to fill the room, and the sunlight combined with the smells and heat soon lulled Willow to sleep. A couple horsed reared outside causing quit a commotion, startling her from her sleep. She jumped up and headed to the window, and only saw the horses. What had frightened them? The house was momentarily covered in darkness, as if clouds covered the sun. She glanced up, but saw nothing. The potatoes began to boil over, so she pulled the pot off the stove, cursing as she accidentally burned her finger.

As she sucked on her finger, willing the burning feeling to subside, Willow stepped out the door. "If those boys are scaring the horses again...," she muttered under her breath.

Slight dust kicked up as her skirt swept across the ground to the corral. Nothing. Maybe he hadn't been at the corral after all. The horses reared again as a shadow came over them. Looking up she saw....

Eyes widening, terror overcame Willow and she screamed. The dragon overhead turned back around and looked down at her as she ran back to the house. The winged creature continued to fly, not stopping, until he was far from the house. Willow tore through the door, running to a corner of the room. Where was her family? How could she find them? If she went outside and they came home, how would they find her? Willow cried with fright and confusion, praying in her heart that her family would return home soon, safe and sound.

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[ArwenBaggins]

Araréiel:

A very good post for your first Mortal!

There are a few things though:

1. PLEASE try to improve spelling & grammar; type our post in Microsoft Word first, and use spellcheck.

2. In your post, you constantly refered to Eli's twin as Cynan; it's Eric.

Fix number two and some of number one in your post, and you'll be in!

People applying for the remaining characters:
Go ahead and post the profiles up, but I will not be able to accept them until Sunday evening. If you get it up today, I MAY be able to check in. I'm going camping, so... no computer or anything.

Thanks,
Fëa

[Araréiel]

lol! I was dead tired last night when I posted that. My boyfriend's car broke down south of San Francisco, so I had to go drive out there really late. Didn't get home until way past midnight. What makes this really embarassing is that I used to do journalism and editting, and won a state spelling bee way back when, anout 10 years ago! Oh well, exhaustion happend to the best of us.

[Nurumaiel]

Araréiel, good to see you in the game!

I am not in any way the owner of this game, merely a fellow player, but I do have a little suggestion for your first post for the sake of clearing any confusion. Your post where Eric interacts with his mother seemed to be mostly framed around my first post for Cynan. It's actually Regin's first post you should be referring to, and actually Eric was not in the least frightened of the dragon but thought quite a lot of himself for having seen something he didn't think Eli had. It was in my post that Cynan ran terrified to his mother and fainted in her arms, but Cynan will not be part of the game.

So perhaps you would edit your post to reflect off Regin's in oppose to mine?

I apologize to you if I sound like I'm assuming authority here, and I assure you I am not but merely make this as a friendly suggestion.

I really enjoyed your character and she seems a lovely mother, and again I look forward to playing with you!

By the way, hello, 'friendly dragon,' though I can't help but doubt the adjective. Hallo, Kransha. 'Twill be nice to be in a real RPG with you.

In all sincerity,
-Nuru