The Fall of the North Planning/Discussion Thread

[Novnarwen]

Finally! I'm very sorry for being so late, and I'm sorry for just having a Bio ready. I have had loads of home/schoolwork, and now I have been running from one Christmas concert to another. Luckily, it is all drawing to an end now, so I'll probably have more time on my hands. Or so I hope..

Anyway, here is my bio for Dunedain, son of [Nuranar's character] and Carthor

POSTED TO BIO PAGE ~*~ PIO

Name Brander

Age 16

Gender Male

Race Men, Dunedain

Weapons: None. He has never had any use of weapons. When not being able to see the enemy (if there is any at all), what is the use of a sword, a knife or a bow? To him, a weapon would not serve as a protection; it would be quite the opposite.

Appearance : As his one year older brother, his skin is light (almost pale). Brander has a lot of freckles covering his nose and small parts of his chin; he has definitely more freckles than his brother, and it’s certainly noticeable. His face is formed far more oblong than his brother, giving him a much larger forehead (without it being so big that he’s not good looking). It makes him look rather strict and important, but his childish features and expressions will easily dominate most of the time. He has sharp features. Especially his high cheekbones and his straight nose are what people take notice to at first. Then there are his eyes; Brander hardly opens them, as it makes not difference to him. (He is blind, and has been from birth.) However, when he does open them, most people are amazed by the sparkling green colour which hides under his heavy lids. As he is a very happy and pleased person, he smiles almost constantly, revealing his white big teeth, which are all situated nicely like small pearls in his jaw. Brander has curly, half long hair, which is a mixture between blonde and light brown. He is slight and slim figure, but he is still muscular. He is taller than average people. He dresses normally in light colours, as that fits his personality the best; a light-hearted lad with few worries. Even though he has not seen himself, ever, he is quite confident that he is a handsome young man, having been told so by others.

Personality/Strengths/Weaknesses: His broad smile and his sense of humour are two of his most recognisable characteristics. Brander appears to others to be a very happy person, who smiles and laughs often. He is witty, and is in many ways very charming. He is open-minded about most things, intelligent, but quick headed. He connects easily to people. In others words, he is a very social being, who tends to get restless when not being around people. Sometimes though, he might be slightly sceptic towards new relations, as it’s very difficult for him to distinguish between true friends and others whose only intentions are to take advantage of him.

Brander has of course many weaknesses due to the fact that he is blind. Naturally, he can’t do everything everyone else can. Being blind though, has made Brander aware and appreciate many things that others do not. He lives by hearing, touching and smelling; he does not take these things for granted as most people do. His senses are his only tools in the world, and he is grateful for what he has.

Brander is often reminded of his handicap. Hearing others speaking aloud about their doings - what they have seen - is particularly difficult. The feeling of being excluded isn't to be avoided. He is excluded, because there are many things he cannot do. Sometimes he feels lonely, even though he sits in a room with a dozen others. He feels that people’s lack of understanding towards the situation he finds himself in, is rather horrifying. He feels that instead of appreciating him as he is, people tend to pity him. They pity him because he is blind; they pity him for the wrong reasons! Brander is overly convinced that his blindness should not be a reason for feeling sorry for him. With a little help, he could, as he often says, manage very well on his own. People who treat as if he was a petty little creature who cannot do anything on his own, is the reason why he also feels so abandoned, or set aside in and by the society. No one approaches him like a normal person. They treat him as if he was a child, as if he was dumb. It is a mystery to him why people who can see, can't see that he is exactly like them...

History Brander was born in late winter time of the Third Age 1988. At that time, no one knew that the newly born boy was blind, and that after sixteen years he would still be. At the age of five or six, Brander still remember discovering that something was odd, something which affected him in more than one way. His mother was pointing at a horse and he could not see it. The reason why he did not know it before was that he was not aware of the senses he possessed, and the senses others (like his mother) possessed. He knew what a horse was; how it sounded, how it felt, but how it looked like, was an enigma. So, it was at that time his mother and father, and others, became aware of the boy's handicap. Due to this, Brander was not sent to school at first, as his parents thought it rather useless. Why waste money on a boy who could probably not learn anything at all? To Brander it did not seem such a big deal in the beginning. He hardly knew what school and education was. He learned form his own experiences and he learned from hearing others tell their tales; what more was there to learn? Through his early teens, he spent his days sitting outside in the sun, taking long walks with whoever was interested and so forth. Then, one day, his perspective on life changed drastically. It was early morning, and Brander had just eaten breakfast. As adventurous as he is, he had planned on going for a walk; this time, he planned on going alone. Telling no one of this, he made his way out of the house where the family lived, and found his way out on the street. He’d heard someone calling for him, on the other side. In mere enthusiasm that someone was calling for him, he ran, crossing the street. What he wasn’t aware of, as he was blind, was that a laden wagon dragged by two strong horses was coming his way in a terrible speed. Had it not been for an observant young man, (who had disappeared after the event,) Brander would have been run over and most likely dead. This, mainly, was the reason why he changed. He changed for the better; he became far more independent and determined. He decided that he could not, and would not, live his life doing nothing only because he could not see. It was not going to be an obstacle for living a normal life. Instead of sitting helplessly and without goals at home, he managed at last to convince his parents to send him to school. He could learn and he would. Even though he could not read, and was never going to, he learned much by just being present, hearing others read or do their lessons. This gave him great pleasure; he even found himself taking part in most of the activities; activities he never thought he would be able to take part in. At the age of fifteen, one year later than his brother, he left school, having learnt everything there was to learn, or so he thought...

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Novnarwen's post

PLEASE PLACE IT HERE WHEN YOU'VE WRITTEN IT



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I hope that was alright. Kransha, if you want me to change anything, I will edit accordingly!

First post will, hopefully, come soon!

Cheers,
Nova

PS! I must say that, by the look of the bios and posts so far, I can't wait for this to start! This is going to be so much fun!

[Amanaduial the archer]

First post for Faerim.

POSTED TO PROPOSAL ~*~ Pio

~*~

Faerim threw himself down against the remains of the wall he had posted himself behind, his hands covering his head, as the top of the wall exploded and the rubble rained down on his light hair and face. Scrabbling back onto his knees, the youth brushed the debris from his clothes hastily and peered forward through what had been an arrow slit in the wall. His light eyes scanned outwards across the lower level and beyond, and widened as his gaze followed the black masses further and further outwards. His skin paled further beneath the light spattering of freckles as the full extent of the black army, and how little they seemed affected by the desperate army of Fornost – or what was little of them. Beneath him, on the lower level where a few orcs had breached the walls, chaos reigned: houses burned and smoked, the fell flood surged over the rubble, and from above, Faerim could hear the screams of those who had fallen prey to the catapult shots and arrows of the enemy. And all the time came that irrepressable booming of the ram hitting the gates...

Wrenching his horrified gaze from the scene below and turning his back to the wall, the youth pulled open his quiver of arrows and counted those that remained – a laughable four, and one so cracked that he doubted it would fly. He swore under his breath and looked back through the arrow slit to the lower level. Loading his bow with arrow number one, he scanned the area and picked out one particularly despicable individual who, along with a second orc, was hacking at the door of a house with a pitted axe. The opposite of his younger brother, Faerim’s sight was excellent, so that some had sniped before that the seventeen year old had got the eyesight for the both of them: as a result of his eyesight, the youth could see every detail of the vile creature, down to fresh bloodstains around it’s hands. Feeling sick at the thought of whose blood that might be, the young man sighted briefly and fired.

The orc fell backwards with a satisfying yell, the axe falling from it’s stumpy digits as it clutched, unseeing, at the arrow now embedded deep in it’s chest. Beside it, orc number two gave a snarl of surprise and followed the line of the arrow upwards until it came eye to eye with Faerim. He could feel it’s eyes on him through the arrow slit, but it wouldn’t last for long: defiant until the last, the archer gave a quick wink and loosed his second precious arrow. Not waiting to see whether it found it’s mark, he looked about searched the lower area and prepared to let off one more of his arrows towards another orc. But as he did so, a deafening scream came from along the wall beside him and a soldier toppled off, a crossbow bolt buried in his chest. The sound caused Faerim to jump at the last second almost wasting the shot. Twisting his mouth in irritation, the young man re-sighted, his muscles tensed to shoot-

The gates swung open.

With yells from the men and inhuma roars from the black hordes, the enemy poured into the city of Fornost. Faerim's arrow fly awry, lost in the masses, but the youth barely noticed, his horrified eyes fixed on ther scene below as beasts twice as tall as a man attacked the army of his city, battering them aside with brutal weapons. And his father was below...

Faerim took a deep breath and strung his bow with the fourth arrow – and then realised that it was indeed his last. Have to be careful when you’re out on a limb, that’s what Brander—

Brander. Dammit, his younger brother – where was he? He had been in the manor house, with their mother, but now…a fresh sluice of fear washed over Faerim. His father would be fighting in the frey below, a swordsman as he was, but at least he had some way of protecting himself - but a vivid image of the orcs, flowing from every side into the room around his blind brother, drove itself into his mind. Brander wouldn't stand a chance. Saving the last arrow, the Dunedain youth checked his sword and, in a strange crouched position, ran across to the shelter nearest to the wall where he had been crouched. Darting inside, he slipped quickly past the other soldiers there, taking on a busy air that meant none stopped him, the sprinted across the courtyard at the back towards the street of larger houses on the second level on the outer wall.

Of course, Faerim was under no impressions of his brother being helpless – for years, Brander had made it painfully clear, both to his older brother and to his parents, that he was determined to be as independent as possible. But, Faerim mused angrily, that independence – being able to look after himself in a domestic situation – was frankly worth nothing in this situation. What Faerim valued – his strength, agility, speed and skill with weapons – were nothing to Brander: a sword, or even a knife, would be more of a liability that an aid to the blind boy.

The white stone of a beautifully delicate, ancient spire, reaching so high it split the sky, suddenly shattered as a barrage of stones hit it. The debris pratically exploded and huge chunks of the base fell to the ground, coming so close to crushing Faerim that his cloak caught beneath it as he rolled agiley, coming to rest on one knee in the shadow of one of the houses. Breathlessly, without taking time to compose himself, he wrenched his cloak from beneath the shattered remains of the face of some ancient statue and kicked the side door of the house open. Half jogging in, he heard a noise from the landing above and fell to a crouch to slip one of his knives from the inside of his left boot. Satisfied that the noise had ceased, he took the stairs of the grand, sweeping staircase three at a time, cloak flying out behind him as he yelled for his brother – it was only a matter of time before the enemy broke through, and surely one of the captains would have arranged something? Either way, he needed to find out and bearing in mind he hadn’t an idea where his father might be now, he needed to make sure Brander and his mother were safe. “Brander? Brander!”

~*~

Hope this suits ok for Faerim's first post - excellent post by the way Osse, and Novnarwen - your bio for Brander...he's an intriguing character, I look forward to playing with him, and you

[piosenniel]

Please note:

Garen LiLorian, an oldtimer from the RPG's here at the Downs is going to play in this game.

He'll be posting his bio and First Post for his character soon - the Elf guard from Rivendell.

Welcome aboard, Garen L.!

~*~ Pio