Wilderness, Weathertop, and Wild Things Discussion Thread - The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum

piosenniel · 08-16-2004, 01:31 PM

Envinyatar’s Characters

1.) NAME: Veryadan

AGE: 70

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 hair with some silvered streaks; grey eyes; tanned. Dresses for working in: dark 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.

Avocation: Cartographer – has been to the library in Rivendell many times to check on old references in the maps there. Always carries, when working, a tubular, leather map-case, containing small maps of the various areas he has surveyed and blank paper, pen and quill for sketching new areas.

HISTORY: Born 2969 TA, he is 38 years younger than his King, Aragorn Elessar. Grew up in the Dunedain’s hidden fastness in the Angle. Has two younger sisters, Almiel and Núneth, who are married, with children. They and their families live in Minas Tirith. He is unmarried.

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. Veryadan’s father served under Arathorn II and his son, Aragorn II. In like manner, Veryadan has served under the command of Aragorn as Chieftain and now as High King.

~*~

Envinyatar’s post - Verydan – 1ST FOR GAME

Veryadan lay on the cot in his sparsely furnished room in the Guard’s Quarters. His cape was thrown over the straight-backed chair at his small desk, mocking him with its memories of the times he had hidden beneath its folds to escape the notice of the enemy. He sighed, turning to his side, his head now elevated on his right hand. One of his larger maps was pinned to the wall, and he traced with his gaze the route he had once taken from Calenhad over the Ered Nimrais to Ethring. There had been reports of increasing numbers of Orcs in the mountainous regions, and he had gone to investigate . . . and eliminate, as he could. Now that had been an interesting foray . . .

He caught himself . . . You are starting to sound like some of the old warriors! Drifting off into dreams of the olden, ‘better’, days! He laughed out loud, startling a sparrow who had come to rest on his window ledge, in hopes of a few crumbs.

‘I beg your pardon, Master Sparrow!’ he said grinning and shaking his head at the discomfited bird. The olden days were only a few short years past, he reminded himself, and I have not reached my dotage yet!’ The bird, appeased by the offer of a small wedge of seedcake, resumed his perch on the window ledge with one wary eye on the now up and pacing Man.

He had been chafing under the duties and expectations of life at court. True, Aragorn . . . No! King Elessar, he reminded himself for the thousandth time . . . had requested the presence of the company of Men who had fought with him, but now there were no foes to fight save the few mice he had seen scurrying to hide behind the arras in the great dining hall or the occasional flying bug that found its way through the open window in his room. And no dark plans to disentangle and avert save for those of his two darling sisters, whose sole purpose it seemed of late was to thrust ‘eligible’ females in his path, at every turn. He had been firm with them, saying he enjoyed their company and the company of their children, and indeed he was all a child could ask for as an uncle. But, that was as far as his desires in that area had gone. In time, perhaps, he thought to himself, when I have had my fill of wandering . . .

^*^

Later that day, seated at his desk, at work on the legend for his newest map, that of the lands just west of the Eastern Sea, in particular Dorwinion, he was annoyed at the discrete knock at his door that broke his concentration and thought to send the offender away with a curt dismissal. A few words heard dimly through the thin door and the sound of a familiar laughed stayed him.

With a grin, he threw open door, and thrust out his ink-stained hand to clasp the arm of the man who stood there, craning his neck beyond him for the source of the familiar laughter . . .

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

2.) NAME: Fen Shepherdspurse

AGE: 50

RACE: Man (of Breeland)

GENDER: male

WEAPONS: A twisted yew walking stick with a big knot at the upper end. An oak handled knife with a much sharpened five inch blade, worn in a 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, and twisted looking – much like his walking stick. 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 tunic to his once white tunic, now bearing the history of many scrapes, scuffles, and nefarious deeds.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Always on the lookout for an easy takings. Would cheat his own dear mother, save for the fact she is more crafty and wicked than he. A cowardly sneakthief 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. At age 29, took up with other ruffians and brigands seeking to take advantage of the fear and terror spread by the lengthening shadow from the East. Most of his comrades of those times are now dead, and those few that remain, including Fen, are left to the scorn of their fellow countrymen and whatever ‘odd’ jobs they can pick up for a hot meal and a hay-pile to sleep in . . . that, and of course, the occasional bit of nefarious pursuits to line their pockets with what coin they can.

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

Envinyatar’s post – Fen Sheperdspurse

‘Well, look what just slunk in, would ya.’ Matty Thistleseed nudged his companion at the Pony’s bar, his chin rising just slightly in the direction of the sallow fellow who’d come in through the door. His head ducked quickly back toward his drink and he wrapped his cloak tighter about him as the newcomer’s greasy haired head swiveled toward him.

Fen Sheperdspurse grinned at the man’s discomfort. Or rather his lips twisted into a gruesome imitation of grin – a sort of ghastly rictus caught halfway between a snarl and a sneer. Others of the present inhabitants of the common room looked at him coldly as he passed their tables, on the way to far corner booth. Many of them muttered imprecations at his presence, their hands clutching at their purses in fear they would disappear if Fen’s shadow slid over them in passing. And well they might fear, save for the fact that Fen was feeling flush today, his purse replete with a jumble of silver and copper coins he’d just last night “come into”.

Seated at last in the dim corner booth, Fen thunked his yew would stick twice on the floor to catch a passing server’s attention. One bony finger pushed a silver penny to the edge of the table, his ragged, dirty fingernail tapping insistently on it. The server came close enough to snatch the penny, stepping back quickly to avoid the touch of Fen’s hand. ‘A pint of ale, boy. And one of new baked loaves with a wedge of Archet cheddar.’ He fixed the server with a knowing leer. ‘And none of that with the moldy rind just peeled off. I’m onto your tricks, you hear!’

Fen drew back into the shadows as he waited for his drink and meal. His eyes slid about the room taking in the ‘usuals’ and the more interesting newcomers. A pair of Rangers occupied a table across the room from him. They both sat facing toward the room, their gaze darting here and there as they spoke quietly to each other. Why were they here, he wondered. Seeking someone? Seeking news?

One of the men’s eyes narrowed as he spied the dim figure in the far corner, causing Fen to shift further back into the dark protection of the booth. His hand sought his coin pouch and stuffed it far into the pocket of his breeches. The coins clinked as he did so, and fear sprang up that perhaps the Ranger had heard them. He preferred not to have to explain how they’d come into his possession.

‘Plenty more where those come from,’ his new “acquaintance” had told him.

Fen smirked at the thought of his present employer coming into the Inn for a pint. ‘Serve those goody-goody’s right,’ he snorted.

From out the window, a familiar face intruded upon his thoughts – there was that henpecked Andas Loudewater just coming up the path to the Inn . . . and in the distance behind him was a curious group. He could but barely make them out if he squinted against the lowering sun. Another Ranger, it looked . . . and a man riding near him. And there, much to his disgust, rode four Elves on their fine horses. Fen spit on the ground, his brow beetled, as he calculated just how much he might get for such a horse, should it go ‘missing’ . . .

piosenniel · 08-16-2004, 01:32 PM

Nuranar’s Characters

1.) NAME: Tarondo, ‘lofty stone’

AGE: 521

RACE: Sylvan Elf - born in Mirkwood

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: Tarondo’s preferred weapon is the hand-and-a-half sword that belonged to his father. Very tall and unexpectedly quick on his feet, he is a dangerous swordfighter. Even by the standards of Men, however, he is no more than a competent archer and does not carry his own bow. An ordinary hunting knife is his only other weapon.

APPEARANCE: Tarondo is 6’6” and seems taller, for although broad-shouldered, he is lean rather than powerful in build. He has dark hair and merry grey eyes, and his tanned face is usually animated. He is left-handed, but discovered long ago the usefulness of being able to use both hands. Now he is nearly as dexterous with his right as with his left. Tarondo usually wears a faded green tunic of heavy linen and well-fitting trousers tucked into soft boots. These boots, laced to the knee (similar to Apache moccasins), he makes for himself and his sister. Over his tunic he wears a worn deerskin jerkin, a sword belt, and vambraces.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Tarondo is a cheerful, good-natured young Elf, curious and eager to discover for himself everything in Middle-earth. Although born under the trees, he yearns more for the open lands. He is a good hunter and tracker, having learned much from the northern Rangers. He and his sister are traveling companions and seem to “liven things up” wherever they go with their merry, bantering ways. At the same time Tarondo is very keenly aware of his surroundings; vigilance is for him instinctive. He is not suspicious, but careful. His constant wariness prevents him from ever truly relaxing. He does enjoys company and can be genuinely open around people – but only to a point. At times his sister’s friendly sincerity both aggravates and angers him. He is always ready to check her when she grows heedless, and in his anxiety he can be harsh.

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

2.) NAME: Luinien, ‘blue maiden’

AGE: 476

RACE: Sylvan Elf - born in Mirkwood

GENDER: Female

WEAPONS: Luinien usually carries a sword-hilted dirk at her side. It is a light and effective weapon which she uses as a sword at need. She is an excellent archer, although her bow is quite ordinary, if a tad large for her stature. Nevertheless she keeps herself in training and is both careful and precise with it. She carries it and her belt quiver when traveling (and hunting), but rarely at other times. She also has a small, single-edged throwing knife. It is nearly always with her, and she rarely troubles to conceal it.

APPEARANCE: Luinien is shorter than most Elven women, standing about 5’8.” Trim and well-proportioned, she is not overly slender and has the lissom strength of an archer. Her hip-length hair is true black, glossy and glinting bluely. She usually wears it in two braids, sometimes pinned up out of the way. Her eyes are grey and her skin fair, although slightly tanned and rosy-cheeked from her outdoors life. She usually wears a fine woolen gown of golden brown, its full skirt falling only to her lower calf and split for riding astride. Beneath it she wears ordinary trousers and high moccasins made by her brother. A deep blue silken sash is wound about her waist, and over it the belt from which hangs her dirk. She wears gloves for both riding and shooting, and has a heavy knee-length cloak for cold weather.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Luinien is always laughing. She likes people, enjoys meeting them and getting to know them. She also likes exploring the wide spaces of Middle-earth with her brother Tarondo, although her love for the land is not equal to his. She has been in tough spots before and is no mean opponent. However, Luinien lacks his highly developed instinct for danger; although sensitive to atmosphere and quick to act at need, she tends to be relaxed, even careless. Sometimes she resents Tarondo’s comparative reserve and the restraint he places on her. Nonetheless she trusts his judgment implicitly, for she knows his ability to size up situations and make the best decision. Knowing that he will never order her except when the need is sharp, she responds with instant obedience when he does – although she doesn’t forget and lets him know her displeasure later.

~*~

COMBINED HISTORY:

Tarondo and Luinien’s father was killed at the Battle of Five Armies. A year later they traveled with their grieving mother to the Grey Havens, where she tried to convince them to leave with her. However, their journey had filled Tarondo with the desire to see and explore all the wide lands. Luinien loved her mother dearly, but she was also caught by his enthusiasm. Unwilling to compel her children, their mother gave her blessing and sailed alone.

The brother and sister roamed over Eregion together. When tired of wandering, Luinien joined the Elves of Rivendell, or sometimes the remnant of the Dunedain in their settlement. At these times Tarondo went farther afield, sometimes alone, sometimes with the Rangers. When war threatened they went back to Mirkwood to aid in its defense, and afterward were among the Elves brought to dwell in Ithilien. Since then, they have assisted the men of Gondor in eradicating the scattered servants of the Enemy from that land.

The bond between brother and sister has been strengthened and tested through the challenges of their lives. Their closeness, born of labor and danger and sacrifice, renders them a formidable team to oppose. However, they remain joyful and merry, loving to sing and play games. Mislead by their bantering veneer, light and teasing, the undiscerning usually dismiss them as inexperienced youngsters.

~*~

Nuranar’s post ---- 2ND FOR GAME

Two Elves stood in the narrow corridor. “Why – how – how dare you!” the young female protested to her laughing companion. “Tarondo, you – I never—”

“There you are, Veryadan!” Tarondo interrupted his sister, catching sight of him as the door opened. “We were just discussing the last time we had seen you. Wasn’t it when Luinien fell off her horse into the creek?” the Elf continued, a rascally twinkle in his eye
.
Grinning, Veryadan stepped forward. “Was that how it was? I seem to remember seeing quite a splash…”

“Oh – you two suit each other!” Luinien turned and stormed dramatically down the corridor, her sky-blue gown trailing grandly. At the corner she stopped. “Come along, children,” she teased, a smile breaking through. “We mustn’t keep the King waiting!”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“It pleases me to hear you are settled in Ithilien, at least for a time,” Veryadan said as they strode up the street. “But why does the King want to see us?”

“Because he wants to, that’s why,” answered Tarondo. “As for why—ow!” he broke off, stubbing his toe on an uneven step.

“Serves you right,” Luinien said unsympathetically, then turned to the still-perplexed Ranger. “Surely you have heard stories of the violence up north, along the Great East Road past Bree. Rumors of travelers who are never heard from again, entire flocks and herds vanishing, even several outlying farmsteads destroyed.”

“I have heard,” Veryadan nodded. “The merchants are growing apprehensive about traveling anywhere near there, even as far west as Lake Evendim.”

“I fear that some threat has re-arisen in the absence of the Rangers,” Tarondo resumed, frowning. “It may even threaten the settlement at the Angle. We think the King will send us north to discover what is truly happening.”

“So what do you think we will find?” the Elf-maid questioned pertly, after a short silence. “A dragon or two, perhaps? I think we’re about due for another one to show up.”

Tarondo narrowed his eyes at her flippancy. “Petty bandits, more likely, or some others of the Enemy’s servants, out for themselves. Perhaps even orcs,” he concluded heavily.

“Now that would be fun,” Veryadan said, a new note of interest in his voice. Tarondo looked at him curiously, but no one spoke again until they reached the White Tower.

piosenniel · 08-16-2004, 01:33 PM

Envinyatar’s post – 3RD FOR GAME

Envinyatar’s post – The King’s request

Elessar was busy with his Minister of Trade when they arrived at the hall. A serving man ushered them into a small, sparsely appointed waiting room and after a while yet another brought in a tray with a small ewer of chilled wine and three cups. Veryadan poured them each a drink, then paced about the room. ‘It’s been twenty years since the War ended,’ he said, fingering the thin and somewhat frayed about the edge tapestry that hung on one wall – some scene of old, one of the stewards, he thought. ‘Twenty years,’ he continued, ‘and this place still looks like the spare quarters we kept as Rangers.’ He nodded at the plain, uncushioned wood chairs. ‘And look at those! You’d think that . . .’

‘I like to keep my visitors just a little on the uncomfortable side.’

Veryadan and the Elves turned from their perusal of the room to see the familiar figure leaning casually against the door frame, watching them. His grey eyes glinted with amusement that they had been caught critiquing the appointments of the room.

Elessar motioned for them to follow him to his private office on the second floor and bade them enter. The door was shut securely behind them by the guard behind them. And once they were comfortable in their chairs he sat on the edge of his desk looking at each of them. ‘I’ve had an increasing number of unsettling reports come in over the past few months,’ he began, ‘of an escalation of attacks on livestock and travelers in Eriador. At first they seemed random – the last dregs of whatever ruffians escaped our notice. But now they seem to happen with a greater frequency and on a greater scale. And sightings of strange creatures, fell creatures, are being reported. I’m especially concerned because most of out troops of Rangers have been withdrawn from that region since it showed signs of settling in peacefully into the Kingdom. There are few left there to stand between any remnants of shadow that might remain.’ He paused for a moment, considering his next words. ‘I also fear that eventually, with Rivendell’s folk for the most part gone West, whoever is behind this malicious actions may take it into his head to overrun the Rangers’ hidden fastness in the Angle. There are still a number of families there – but not enough men to protect them should a concerted attack come.’

‘What would you have us do?’ asked Veryadan, leaning forward, his brow furrowed at what the King had said.

‘I want you three to travel north to Breeland to find out what is happening around the area of Weathertop. Take what action you can against the ones who are the troublemakers, taking care to keep yourselves and what companions you might bring with you as safe as possible. I’d rather have you back here with a report for me, than for you to go haring off after some wicked foe who will easily overpower you.’ Elessar picked up a rolled vellum writ and handed it to Tarondor. It was a writ directing them to be allowed to search out where they wished for the source of the problem and to enlist those whom they needed to assist them.

‘And when would you wish us to start for Amon Sul?’ asked Luinien.

‘Today . . . if I could make that happen. But since that will not be possible, just see my Minister of the Treasury this afternoon for funds. I’ve already spoken with him, and he should have them ready by midafternoon at the latest. And the quartermaster for the City guards will also await your visit – he’s put together supplies for you at my request. Tomorrow, at dawn, breakfast will await you in the Guards’ quarters, and then you should be on your way.’ The guard at the door rapped lightly and opening it announced that there was someone to see the King on some pressing matter.

Elessar stood and bid the three farewell, dismissing them with his hope that their mission would prove fruitful. They bowed and took their leave of him saying they would see it through as he wished . . .

piosenniel · 08-16-2004, 01:35 PM

Nuranar’s post --------------- 4TH FOR GAME

Traffic along the road from Minas Tirith through Rohan had increased greatly in the twenty years since the king’s return. The three riders, traveling quickly but not with haste, passed numerous people on foot, farmers with wagons, and men driving flocks and herds to market. Periodically they came upon small merchant caravans of heavy wains, and once a patrol of Riders swept around them.

After several days, the travelers stopped in a small village for fresh supplies, thinking to save their waybread and dried meat for the less-settled lands beyond the Gap. Tarondo found himself delegated to procure bread – “As fresh as possible, and make sure it’s wrapped up well!” – while Veryadan and Luinien went to the market for fruits and early vegetables.

He wandered aimlessly about the square for several minutes, oblivious to the stares of villagers not yet accustomed to the sight of an Elf. Finally, by dint of following his nose, he discovered a small bakery in a street just off the square.

“Good day to you, sir!” he greeted the baker, shrouded in a large apron and liberally sprinkled with flour. He had been a large man, though now stooped with age, but out of his wrinkled face gazed clear grey eyes. “May I buy half a dozen loaves? And my sister would like them to be ‘wrapped up well’ – whatever that may mean,” he confessed with a grin.

“Certainly, sir.” The old man moved swiftly, swathing the hot bread in clean cloths and packing them into the saddlebags Tarondo had brought. “Whither are you bound?” he asked, glancing keenly at his customer.

“Oh, for the northlands, far away from here,” Tarondo said carelessly. It was his habit not to give away too much information – just in case. Yet they still needed to find good men to join their mission. “I have come from Mundburg. My companions and I have been sent on an errand by the King Elessar.”

“Then I wish you a safe journey and success on your errand,” the baker said, handing him his bags. “And any friend of the King will always be welcome here!”

Tarondo thanked him warmly and left the shop. He was gazing into the market, searching for his sister and the Ranger, when he felt a firm hand on his shoulder.

“Sir, I heard what you said to Aldor. May I speak to you about it?”

piosenniel · 08-16-2004, 01:37 PM

AGAIN - CHARACTERS NEEDED:

Main Characters:

2 Dunedain, Rangers of the North - males only (We will meet these two at the Prancing Pony Inn in Bree – they can have the latest news of the stirrings in the countryside; they were the ones who sent the message alerting Elessar.)

NOTE: First Posts for Rangers – Can be about traveling to Bree/arriving at The Prancing Pony from the North Downs (about 100 miles north of Bree and Weathertop where they have heard a number of stories of attacks on farms and travelers in the area – vague stories of Orcs and wolves and bigger things . . .) They arrive at The Prancing Pony just before Envinyatar’s and Nuranar’s party gets there

1.) 1 Ranger of the North needed – male
2.) 1 Ranger of the North needed - male

~*~

2 Men:

1.) 1 Concerned farmer from Bree needed

NOTE: First Post for Bree farmer - can be about coming into the Inn in Bree and hearing about one of your relative’s farm (lives a way up north in the North Downs) having a good deal of their sheep taken and a few other tales from other patrons in the Inn. He can come into the Prancing Pony while the two Rangers are there – so he will be there when Envinyatar’s and Nuranar’s party arrives.
2.) 1 Man of Rohan needed

Gives them additional news of happenings in the northwest, and decides to travel with them. NOTE: First Post for Man of Rohan – See Nuranar’s 4th Post for the Game for your lead in – you can offer the group your services and ask to go with them.

~*~

2 Elves from Rivendell - male and female They will meet up with Nuranar’s, Envinyatar’s, and the man from Rohan’s characters at a small Inn at Tharbad – where the Greyflood River meets the North South Road (also called The Greenway) and travel from there to Bree. They can bring us news from the Angle, which is near Rivendell, about any increased activity the Rangers in that area have noticed, e.g. an increase of Troll activity.)

NOTE: First Posts for Elves – You have just arrived at the small Inn at Tharbad – The Trade Inn. It might be nice to have a cool drink, discuss your journey briefly, then note the imminent arrival of a Ranger, two Elves, and a man from the Riddermark just down the dusty path.

1.) 1 Elf from Rivendell needed – male
2.) 1 Elf from Rivendell needed – female

About Elves in Shire RPG's:

Please use this description from Tolkien when crafting an Elf:

Return of the King – Appendix F: Tolkien’s description for the Quendi (The Speakers) – the name given to the Elves by themselves after they first awoke in Middle-earth.

“They were a race high and beautiful, the older Children of the world, and among them the Eldar were as Kings, who now are gone: the People of the Great Journey, the People of the Stars. They were tall, fair of skin and grey-eyed, though their locks were dark, save in the golden house of Finrod; and their voices had more melodies than any mortal voice that is now heard . . .”

Please use this as a guideline for describing your Elven character’s appearance.

~*~

Secondary Characters:

NOTE: First Posts for the ‘bad guys’ – For now – just give us your Character Descriptions. We will PM you a little behind the scenes plot the Orcs have cooked up with the others – Envinyatar will play the part of the Man from Bree who is in cahoots with the Orcs. He’ll send you a little lead in post for your plotting to begin.

1.) 1 Orc chieftain from The Misty Mountains who controls a troop of Orcs (the writer will play this group of Orcs.)
2.) 1 Second in command to the Orc chieftain needed (will also play the group of Orcs)
3.) Fen Sheperdspurse - Man from Bree (a Bill Ferny Type) who is a spy for the Orc chieftain – Envinyatar will play this character
4.) 2 Trolls (writers for these will play their own characters, and one other troll they can invent to carry along with them, for which they don’t need full Character Bios)
- 1.) Troll needed
- 2.) Troll needed

piosenniel · 08-16-2004, 01:40 PM

Please use this form for creating your character to post on the discussion thread.

1.) It is a requirement that all potential game players in the Shire will have posted in The Green Dragon Inn or have played to completion an RPG on the Barrow Downs.

2.) Those who have not played before in a Shire RPG will be given preference. Final preference, though, will be at the discretion of the Game Owner.
_______________________________________

Character Description Form:

1.) Have you ever played in an RPG at the Barrow Downs? – YES/NO - Which one?

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

List them, please:

Please note you may play in only 2 (TWO) Shire games at one time. Exceptions to this may be made for this on a case by case basis by the Shire Moderators. (The Green Dragon Inn DOES NOT count as a game for this.)

3.) Have you posted in The Green Dragon Inn – YES/NO
_______________________________________

For your character please include:

NAME:

AGE:

RACE:

GENDER:

WEAPONS (No magical, super-hero, mithril weapons. Just good solid Middle-earth weapons and armor only that is appropriate to the race of the character and the time period.):

APPEARANCE:

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: (No half-Elven characters. No mixed-type characters. No super-heroes. No assassins. No one all powerful, martial arts proficient, or having any magical traits. Just regular characters with normal abilities for their races only):

HISTORY:

__________________________________

First post:

----------

Note about First Posts for your Characters

** Except for the Secondary Character players **

All other players are required to submit a First Post WITH your Character Description. Please re-read the “Characters Needed” list for suggestions about your First Post.

Your Character Bios will be returned to you if not accompanied by the First Post.

08-16-2004, 01:31 PM	#1
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	Envinyatar’s Characters 1.) NAME: Veryadan AGE: 70 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 hair with some silvered streaks; grey eyes; tanned. Dresses for working in: dark 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. Avocation: Cartographer – has been to the library in Rivendell many times to check on old references in the maps there. Always carries, when working, a tubular, leather map-case, containing small maps of the various areas he has surveyed and blank paper, pen and quill for sketching new areas. HISTORY: Born 2969 TA, he is 38 years younger than his King, Aragorn Elessar. Grew up in the Dunedain’s hidden fastness in the Angle. Has two younger sisters, Almiel and Núneth, who are married, with children. They and their families live in Minas Tirith. He is unmarried. 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. Veryadan’s father served under Arathorn II and his son, Aragorn II. In like manner, Veryadan has served under the command of Aragorn as Chieftain and now as High King. ~~ Envinyatar’s post - Verydan* – 1ST FOR GAME Veryadan lay on the cot in his sparsely furnished room in the Guard’s Quarters. His cape was thrown over the straight-backed chair at his small desk, mocking him with its memories of the times he had hidden beneath its folds to escape the notice of the enemy. He sighed, turning to his side, his head now elevated on his right hand. One of his larger maps was pinned to the wall, and he traced with his gaze the route he had once taken from Calenhad over the Ered Nimrais to Ethring. There had been reports of increasing numbers of Orcs in the mountainous regions, and he had gone to investigate . . . and eliminate, as he could. Now that had been an interesting foray . . . He caught himself . . . You are starting to sound like some of the old warriors! Drifting off into dreams of the olden, ‘better’, days! He laughed out loud, startling a sparrow who had come to rest on his window ledge, in hopes of a few crumbs. ‘I beg your pardon, Master Sparrow!’ he said grinning and shaking his head at the discomfited bird. The olden days were only a few short years past, he reminded himself, and I have not reached my dotage yet!’ The bird, appeased by the offer of a small wedge of seedcake, resumed his perch on the window ledge with one wary eye on the now up and pacing Man. He had been chafing under the duties and expectations of life at court. True, Aragorn . . . No! King Elessar, he reminded himself for the thousandth time . . . had requested the presence of the company of Men who had fought with him, but now there were no foes to fight save the few mice he had seen scurrying to hide behind the arras in the great dining hall or the occasional flying bug that found its way through the open window in his room. And no dark plans to disentangle and avert save for those of his two darling sisters, whose sole purpose it seemed of late was to thrust ‘eligible’ females in his path, at every turn. He had been firm with them, saying he enjoyed their company and the company of their children, and indeed he was all a child could ask for as an uncle. But, that was as far as his desires in that area had gone. In time, perhaps, he thought to himself, when I have had my fill of wandering . . . ^^ Later that day, seated at his desk, at work on the legend for his newest map, that of the lands just west of the Eastern Sea, in particular Dorwinion, he was annoyed at the discrete knock at his door that broke his concentration and thought to send the offender away with a curt dismissal. A few words heard dimly through the thin door and the sound of a familiar laughed stayed him. With a grin, he threw open door, and thrust out his ink-stained hand to clasp the arm of the man who stood there, craning his neck beyond him for the source of the familiar laughter . . . --------------- 2.) NAME: Fen Shepherdspurse AGE: 50 RACE: Man (of Breeland) GENDER: male WEAPONS: A twisted yew walking stick with a big knot at the upper end. An oak handled knife with a much sharpened five inch blade, worn in a 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, and twisted looking – much like his walking stick. 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 tunic to his once white tunic, now bearing the history of many scrapes, scuffles, and nefarious deeds. PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Always on the lookout for an easy takings. Would cheat his own dear mother, save for the fact she is more crafty and wicked than he. A cowardly sneakthief 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. At age 29, took up with other ruffians and brigands seeking to take advantage of the fear and terror spread by the lengthening shadow from the East. Most of his comrades of those times are now dead, and those few that remain, including Fen, are left to the scorn of their fellow countrymen and whatever ‘odd’ jobs they can pick up for a hot meal and a hay-pile to sleep in . . . that, and of course, the occasional bit of nefarious pursuits to line their pockets with what coin they can. ---------------------------------- Envinyatar’s post – Fen Sheperdspurse* ‘Well, look what just slunk in, would ya.’ Matty Thistleseed nudged his companion at the Pony’s bar, his chin rising just slightly in the direction of the sallow fellow who’d come in through the door. His head ducked quickly back toward his drink and he wrapped his cloak tighter about him as the newcomer’s greasy haired head swiveled toward him. Fen Sheperdspurse grinned at the man’s discomfort. Or rather his lips twisted into a gruesome imitation of grin – a sort of ghastly rictus caught halfway between a snarl and a sneer. Others of the present inhabitants of the common room looked at him coldly as he passed their tables, on the way to far corner booth. Many of them muttered imprecations at his presence, their hands clutching at their purses in fear they would disappear if Fen’s shadow slid over them in passing. And well they might fear, save for the fact that Fen was feeling flush today, his purse replete with a jumble of silver and copper coins he’d just last night “come into”. Seated at last in the dim corner booth, Fen thunked his yew would stick twice on the floor to catch a passing server’s attention. One bony finger pushed a silver penny to the edge of the table, his ragged, dirty fingernail tapping insistently on it. The server came close enough to snatch the penny, stepping back quickly to avoid the touch of Fen’s hand. ‘A pint of ale, boy. And one of new baked loaves with a wedge of Archet cheddar.’ He fixed the server with a knowing leer. ‘And none of that with the moldy rind just peeled off. I’m onto your tricks, you hear!’ Fen drew back into the shadows as he waited for his drink and meal. His eyes slid about the room taking in the ‘usuals’ and the more interesting newcomers. A pair of Rangers occupied a table across the room from him. They both sat facing toward the room, their gaze darting here and there as they spoke quietly to each other. Why were they here, he wondered. Seeking someone? Seeking news? One of the men’s eyes narrowed as he spied the dim figure in the far corner, causing Fen to shift further back into the dark protection of the booth. His hand sought his coin pouch and stuffed it far into the pocket of his breeches. The coins clinked as he did so, and fear sprang up that perhaps the Ranger had heard them. He preferred not to have to explain how they’d come into his possession. ‘Plenty more where those come from,’ his new “acquaintance” had told him. Fen smirked at the thought of his present employer coming into the Inn for a pint. ‘Serve those goody-goody’s right,’ he snorted. From out the window, a familiar face intruded upon his thoughts – there was that henpecked Andas Loudewater just coming up the path to the Inn . . . and in the distance behind him was a curious group. He could but barely make them out if he squinted against the lowering sun. Another Ranger, it looked . . . and a man riding near him. And there, much to his disgust, rode four Elves on their fine horses. Fen spit on the ground, his brow beetled, as he calculated just how much he might get for such a horse, should it go ‘missing’ . . . Last edited by piosenniel; 09-03-2004 at 01:32 PM.

08-16-2004, 01:32 PM	#2
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	Nuranar’s Characters 1.) NAME: Tarondo, ‘lofty stone’ AGE: 521 RACE: Sylvan Elf - born in Mirkwood GENDER: Male WEAPONS: Tarondo’s preferred weapon is the hand-and-a-half sword that belonged to his father. Very tall and unexpectedly quick on his feet, he is a dangerous swordfighter. Even by the standards of Men, however, he is no more than a competent archer and does not carry his own bow. An ordinary hunting knife is his only other weapon. APPEARANCE: Tarondo is 6’6” and seems taller, for although broad-shouldered, he is lean rather than powerful in build. He has dark hair and merry grey eyes, and his tanned face is usually animated. He is left-handed, but discovered long ago the usefulness of being able to use both hands. Now he is nearly as dexterous with his right as with his left. Tarondo usually wears a faded green tunic of heavy linen and well-fitting trousers tucked into soft boots. These boots, laced to the knee (similar to Apache moccasins), he makes for himself and his sister. Over his tunic he wears a worn deerskin jerkin, a sword belt, and vambraces. PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Tarondo is a cheerful, good-natured young Elf, curious and eager to discover for himself everything in Middle-earth. Although born under the trees, he yearns more for the open lands. He is a good hunter and tracker, having learned much from the northern Rangers. He and his sister are traveling companions and seem to “liven things up” wherever they go with their merry, bantering ways. At the same time Tarondo is very keenly aware of his surroundings; vigilance is for him instinctive. He is not suspicious, but careful. His constant wariness prevents him from ever truly relaxing. He does enjoys company and can be genuinely open around people – but only to a point. At times his sister’s friendly sincerity both aggravates and angers him. He is always ready to check her when she grows heedless, and in his anxiety he can be harsh. --------------- 2.) NAME: Luinien, ‘blue maiden’ AGE: 476 RACE: Sylvan Elf - born in Mirkwood GENDER: Female WEAPONS: Luinien usually carries a sword-hilted dirk at her side. It is a light and effective weapon which she uses as a sword at need. She is an excellent archer, although her bow is quite ordinary, if a tad large for her stature. Nevertheless she keeps herself in training and is both careful and precise with it. She carries it and her belt quiver when traveling (and hunting), but rarely at other times. She also has a small, single-edged throwing knife. It is nearly always with her, and she rarely troubles to conceal it. APPEARANCE: Luinien is shorter than most Elven women, standing about 5’8.” Trim and well-proportioned, she is not overly slender and has the lissom strength of an archer. Her hip-length hair is true black, glossy and glinting bluely. She usually wears it in two braids, sometimes pinned up out of the way. Her eyes are grey and her skin fair, although slightly tanned and rosy-cheeked from her outdoors life. She usually wears a fine woolen gown of golden brown, its full skirt falling only to her lower calf and split for riding astride. Beneath it she wears ordinary trousers and high moccasins made by her brother. A deep blue silken sash is wound about her waist, and over it the belt from which hangs her dirk. She wears gloves for both riding and shooting, and has a heavy knee-length cloak for cold weather. PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Luinien is always laughing. She likes people, enjoys meeting them and getting to know them. She also likes exploring the wide spaces of Middle-earth with her brother Tarondo, although her love for the land is not equal to his. She has been in tough spots before and is no mean opponent. However, Luinien lacks his highly developed instinct for danger; although sensitive to atmosphere and quick to act at need, she tends to be relaxed, even careless. Sometimes she resents Tarondo’s comparative reserve and the restraint he places on her. Nonetheless she trusts his judgment implicitly, for she knows his ability to size up situations and make the best decision. Knowing that he will never order her except when the need is sharp, she responds with instant obedience when he does – although she doesn’t forget and lets him know her displeasure later. ~~ COMBINED HISTORY: Tarondo and Luinien’s father was killed at the Battle of Five Armies. A year later they traveled with their grieving mother to the Grey Havens, where she tried to convince them to leave with her. However, their journey had filled Tarondo with the desire to see and explore all the wide lands. Luinien loved her mother dearly, but she was also caught by his enthusiasm. Unwilling to compel her children, their mother gave her blessing and sailed alone. The brother and sister roamed over Eregion together. When tired of wandering, Luinien joined the Elves of Rivendell, or sometimes the remnant of the Dunedain in their settlement. At these times Tarondo went farther afield, sometimes alone, sometimes with the Rangers. When war threatened they went back to Mirkwood to aid in its defense, and afterward were among the Elves brought to dwell in Ithilien. Since then, they have assisted the men of Gondor in eradicating the scattered servants of the Enemy from that land. The bond between brother and sister has been strengthened and tested through the challenges of their lives. Their closeness, born of labor and danger and sacrifice, renders them a formidable team to oppose. However, they remain joyful and merry, loving to sing and play games. Mislead by their bantering veneer, light and teasing, the undiscerning usually dismiss them as inexperienced youngsters. ~~ Nuranar’s post ---- 2ND FOR GAME Two Elves stood in the narrow corridor. “Why – how – how dare you!” the young female protested to her laughing companion. “Tarondo, you – I never—” “There you are, Veryadan!” Tarondo interrupted his sister, catching sight of him as the door opened. “We were just discussing the last time we had seen you. Wasn’t it when Luinien fell off her horse into the creek?” the Elf continued, a rascally twinkle in his eye . Grinning, Veryadan stepped forward. “Was that how it was? I seem to remember seeing quite a splash…” “Oh – you two suit each other!” Luinien turned and stormed dramatically down the corridor, her sky-blue gown trailing grandly. At the corner she stopped. “Come along, children,” she teased, a smile breaking through. “We mustn’t keep the King waiting!” ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ “It pleases me to hear you are settled in Ithilien, at least for a time,” Veryadan said as they strode up the street. “But why does the King want to see us?” “Because he wants to, that’s why,” answered Tarondo. “As for why—ow!” he broke off, stubbing his toe on an uneven step. “Serves you right,” Luinien said unsympathetically, then turned to the still-perplexed Ranger. “Surely you have heard stories of the violence up north, along the Great East Road past Bree. Rumors of travelers who are never heard from again, entire flocks and herds vanishing, even several outlying farmsteads destroyed.” “I have heard,” Veryadan nodded. “The merchants are growing apprehensive about traveling anywhere near there, even as far west as Lake Evendim.” “I fear that some threat has re-arisen in the absence of the Rangers,” Tarondo resumed, frowning. “It may even threaten the settlement at the Angle. We think the King will send us north to discover what is truly happening.” “So what do you think we will find?” the Elf-maid questioned pertly, after a short silence. “A dragon or two, perhaps? I think we’re about due for another one to show up.” Tarondo narrowed his eyes at her flippancy. “Petty bandits, more likely, or some others of the Enemy’s servants, out for themselves. Perhaps even orcs,” he concluded heavily. “Now that would be fun,” Veryadan said, a new note of interest in his voice. Tarondo looked at him curiously, but no one spoke again until they reached the White Tower. Last edited by piosenniel; 08-23-2004 at 03:44 PM.

08-16-2004, 01:37 PM	#5
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	AGAIN - CHARACTERS NEEDED: Main Characters: 2 Dunedain, Rangers of the North - males only (We will meet these two at the Prancing Pony Inn in Bree – they can have the latest news of the stirrings in the countryside; they were the ones who sent the message alerting Elessar.) NOTE: First Posts for Rangers – Can be about traveling to Bree/arriving at The Prancing Pony from the North Downs (about 100 miles north of Bree and Weathertop where they have heard a number of stories of attacks on farms and travelers in the area – vague stories of Orcs and wolves and bigger things . . .) They arrive at The Prancing Pony just before Envinyatar’s and Nuranar’s party gets there 1.) 1 Ranger of the North needed – male 2.) 1 Ranger of the North needed - male ~~ 2 Men:* 1.) 1 Concerned farmer from Bree needed NOTE: First Post for Bree farmer - can be about coming into the Inn in Bree and hearing about one of your relative’s farm (lives a way up north in the North Downs) having a good deal of their sheep taken and a few other tales from other patrons in the Inn. He can come into the Prancing Pony while the two Rangers are there – so he will be there when Envinyatar’s and Nuranar’s party arrives. 2.) 1 Man of Rohan needed Gives them additional news of happenings in the northwest, and decides to travel with them. NOTE: First Post for Man of Rohan – See Nuranar’s 4th Post for the Game for your lead in – you can offer the group your services and ask to go with them. ~~ 2 Elves from Rivendell - male and female* They will meet up with Nuranar’s, Envinyatar’s, and the man from Rohan’s characters at a small Inn at Tharbad – where the Greyflood River meets the North South Road (also called The Greenway) and travel from there to Bree. They can bring us news from the Angle, which is near Rivendell, about any increased activity the Rangers in that area have noticed, e.g. an increase of Troll activity.) NOTE: First Posts for Elves – You have just arrived at the small Inn at Tharbad – The Trade Inn. It might be nice to have a cool drink, discuss your journey briefly, then note the imminent arrival of a Ranger, two Elves, and a man from the Riddermark just down the dusty path. 1.) 1 Elf from Rivendell needed – male 2.) 1 Elf from Rivendell needed – female About Elves in Shire RPG's: Please use this description from Tolkien when crafting an Elf: Return of the King – Appendix F: Tolkien’s description for the Quendi (The Speakers) – the name given to the Elves by themselves after they first awoke in Middle-earth. “They were a race high and beautiful, the older Children of the world, and among them the Eldar were as Kings, who now are gone: the People of the Great Journey, the People of the Stars. They were tall, fair of skin and grey-eyed, though their locks were dark, save in the golden house of Finrod; and their voices had more melodies than any mortal voice that is now heard . . .” Please use this as a guideline for describing your Elven character’s appearance. ~~ Secondary Characters:* NOTE: First Posts for the ‘bad guys’ – For now – just give us your Character Descriptions. We will PM you a little behind the scenes plot the Orcs have cooked up with the others – Envinyatar will play the part of the Man from Bree who is in cahoots with the Orcs. He’ll send you a little lead in post for your plotting to begin. 1.) 1 Orc chieftain from The Misty Mountains who controls a troop of Orcs (the writer will play this group of Orcs.) 2.) 1 Second in command to the Orc chieftain needed (will also play the group of Orcs) 3.) Fen Sheperdspurse - Man from Bree (a Bill Ferny Type) who is a spy for the Orc chieftain – Envinyatar will play this character 4.) 2 Trolls (writers for these will play their own characters, and one other troll they can invent to carry along with them, for which they don’t need full Character Bios) 1.) Troll needed 2.) Troll needed Last edited by piosenniel; 08-22-2004 at 12:33 AM.

08-16-2004, 01:33 PM	#3
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	Envinyatar’s post – 3RD FOR GAME Envinyatar’s post – The King’s request Elessar was busy with his Minister of Trade when they arrived at the hall. A serving man ushered them into a small, sparsely appointed waiting room and after a while yet another brought in a tray with a small ewer of chilled wine and three cups. Veryadan poured them each a drink, then paced about the room. ‘It’s been twenty years since the War ended,’ he said, fingering the thin and somewhat frayed about the edge tapestry that hung on one wall – some scene of old, one of the stewards, he thought. ‘Twenty years,’ he continued, ‘and this place still looks like the spare quarters we kept as Rangers.’ He nodded at the plain, uncushioned wood chairs. ‘And look at those! You’d think that . . .’ ‘I like to keep my visitors just a little on the uncomfortable side.’ Veryadan and the Elves turned from their perusal of the room to see the familiar figure leaning casually against the door frame, watching them. His grey eyes glinted with amusement that they had been caught critiquing the appointments of the room. Elessar motioned for them to follow him to his private office on the second floor and bade them enter. The door was shut securely behind them by the guard behind them. And once they were comfortable in their chairs he sat on the edge of his desk looking at each of them. ‘I’ve had an increasing number of unsettling reports come in over the past few months,’ he began, ‘of an escalation of attacks on livestock and travelers in Eriador. At first they seemed random – the last dregs of whatever ruffians escaped our notice. But now they seem to happen with a greater frequency and on a greater scale. And sightings of strange creatures, fell creatures, are being reported. I’m especially concerned because most of out troops of Rangers have been withdrawn from that region since it showed signs of settling in peacefully into the Kingdom. There are few left there to stand between any remnants of shadow that might remain.’ He paused for a moment, considering his next words. ‘I also fear that eventually, with Rivendell’s folk for the most part gone West, whoever is behind this malicious actions may take it into his head to overrun the Rangers’ hidden fastness in the Angle. There are still a number of families there – but not enough men to protect them should a concerted attack come.’ ‘What would you have us do?’ asked Veryadan, leaning forward, his brow furrowed at what the King had said. ‘I want you three to travel north to Breeland to find out what is happening around the area of Weathertop. Take what action you can against the ones who are the troublemakers, taking care to keep yourselves and what companions you might bring with you as safe as possible. I’d rather have you back here with a report for me, than for you to go haring off after some wicked foe who will easily overpower you.’ Elessar picked up a rolled vellum writ and handed it to Tarondor. It was a writ directing them to be allowed to search out where they wished for the source of the problem and to enlist those whom they needed to assist them. ‘And when would you wish us to start for Amon Sul?’ asked Luinien. ‘Today . . . if I could make that happen. But since that will not be possible, just see my Minister of the Treasury this afternoon for funds. I’ve already spoken with him, and he should have them ready by midafternoon at the latest. And the quartermaster for the City guards will also await your visit – he’s put together supplies for you at my request. Tomorrow, at dawn, breakfast will await you in the Guards’ quarters, and then you should be on your way.’ The guard at the door rapped lightly and opening it announced that there was someone to see the King on some pressing matter. Elessar stood and bid the three farewell, dismissing them with his hope that their mission would prove fruitful. They bowed and took their leave of him saying they would see it through as he wished . . .

08-16-2004, 01:35 PM	#4
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	Nuranar’s post --------------- 4TH FOR GAME Traffic along the road from Minas Tirith through Rohan had increased greatly in the twenty years since the king’s return. The three riders, traveling quickly but not with haste, passed numerous people on foot, farmers with wagons, and men driving flocks and herds to market. Periodically they came upon small merchant caravans of heavy wains, and once a patrol of Riders swept around them. After several days, the travelers stopped in a small village for fresh supplies, thinking to save their waybread and dried meat for the less-settled lands beyond the Gap. Tarondo found himself delegated to procure bread – “As fresh as possible, and make sure it’s wrapped up well!” – while Veryadan and Luinien went to the market for fruits and early vegetables. He wandered aimlessly about the square for several minutes, oblivious to the stares of villagers not yet accustomed to the sight of an Elf. Finally, by dint of following his nose, he discovered a small bakery in a street just off the square. “Good day to you, sir!” he greeted the baker, shrouded in a large apron and liberally sprinkled with flour. He had been a large man, though now stooped with age, but out of his wrinkled face gazed clear grey eyes. “May I buy half a dozen loaves? And my sister would like them to be ‘wrapped up well’ – whatever that may mean,” he confessed with a grin. “Certainly, sir.” The old man moved swiftly, swathing the hot bread in clean cloths and packing them into the saddlebags Tarondo had brought. “Whither are you bound?” he asked, glancing keenly at his customer. “Oh, for the northlands, far away from here,” Tarondo said carelessly. It was his habit not to give away too much information – just in case. Yet they still needed to find good men to join their mission. “I have come from Mundburg. My companions and I have been sent on an errand by the King Elessar.” “Then I wish you a safe journey and success on your errand,” the baker said, handing him his bags. “And any friend of the King will always be welcome here!” Tarondo thanked him warmly and left the shop. He was gazing into the market, searching for his sister and the Ranger, when he felt a firm hand on his shoulder. “Sir, I heard what you said to Aldor. May I speak to you about it?”

08-16-2004, 01:40 PM	#6
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	Please use this form for creating your character to post on the discussion thread. 1.) It is a requirement that all potential game players in the Shire will have posted in The Green Dragon Inn or have played to completion an RPG on the Barrow Downs. 2.) Those who have not played before in a Shire RPG will be given preference. Final preference, though, will be at the discretion of the Game Owner. _______________________________________ Character Description Form: 1.) Have you ever played in an RPG at the Barrow Downs? – YES/NO - Which one? *2.) How many RPG’s on the Barrow Downs are you currently* involved in? List them, please: Please note you may play in only 2 (TWO) Shire games at one time. Exceptions to this may be made for this on a case by case basis by the Shire Moderators. (The Green Dragon Inn DOES NOT count as a game for this.) 3.) Have you posted in The Green Dragon Inn – YES/NO _______________________________________ For your character please include:** NAME: AGE: RACE: GENDER: WEAPONS (No magical, super-hero, mithril weapons. Just good solid Middle-earth weapons and armor only that is appropriate to the race of the character and the time period.): APPEARANCE: PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: (No half-Elven characters. No mixed-type characters. No super-heroes. No assassins. No one all powerful, martial arts proficient, or having any magical traits. Just regular characters with normal abilities for their races only): HISTORY: __________________________________ First post: ---------- Note about First Posts for your Characters Except for the Secondary Character players All other players are required to submit a First Post WITH your Character Description. Please re-read the “Characters Needed” list for suggestions about your First Post. Your Character Bios will be returned to you if not accompanied by the First Post.