The Fall of the North Planning/Discussion Thread

[Garen LiLorian]

First post up.

[Mithalwen]

BIO POSTED TO GAME PLAN ~*~ PIO

Name: Erenor
Age: 3000
Race: Eldar

Gender: Female

Weapons: Erenor has a long curved sword , product of the great skill of the Noldorin smiths as wellas a shorter dagger. She also has a shirt of fine steel mail that like the dagger may be concealed.

Appearance: She has the typical Noldorin coloring of dark hair and grey eyes. Although she is fair of face she has a grave demeanour. Because of her serious role she wears serious clothes usually in grey and blue. Although they are not unfeminine they are less ornate than usual for female elves and she seldom wears much in the way of jewellery or adornment save a sapphire pendant. When travelling she dresses after the fashion of elf men deeming it more practical.

Personality: Stern and unsentimental, determined and a little arrogant, Erenor is sometimes a little more plain speaking than usual for an emmissary. She does not suffer fools gladly. She is a pragmatist and regards warfare as a necessary evil and does not shy away from combat.

History: Born in Lindon late in the second age to a noble noldorin house, Erenor is the desendent of Gondolin. Her father was a general of Gil-Galad and like him did not return from the War of the Last Alliance. Forbidden to go to war, she learned to fight with sword and bow in case at the last war came to her, and the womenfolk needed to mount a last ditch defence of Lindon. She went with many of her kin to Rivendell when their king did not return.

[piosenniel]

Here's where the players/characters stand so far:

CHARACTER/PLAYER LIST

Dúnedain of Arthedain

1) Dúnedain Captain – Kransha (Hírvegil)
2) Dúnedain Counselor/Lord – CaptainofDespair (Mitharan)
3) Dúnedain Lieutenant (to the captain) – Saurreg (Belegorn)
4) Dúnedain Soldier – Osse (Carthor)
5) Dúnedain Woman - Lalwendë (Renedwen)
6) Dúnedain Woman (wife of the soldier) - Nuranar (Lissi)
7) Male Dúnedain Youth (16 y/o child of the woman and soldier) – Novnarwen (Brander)
8) Male Dúnedain Youth (17 y/o sibling to Novnarwen's character – Amanaduial the Archer (Faerim)

~*~

Elves of Lindon

These will be from the Grey Havens, lorded over by Círdan the Shipwright. It is know that the Kings of Arthedain had good relations with Círdan, because of their military aid in the past.

1) Elf Emissary– male - alaklondewen (Ereglin) - ** FIRST POST NEEDED **
2) Elf Guards – Arry (Gaeredhel & Rôsgollo)

~*~

Elves of Rivendell

The Elves of Rivendell did not necessarily share a bond with the people of Arnor, but they did come to their aid once or twice, predominantly in the year immediately following the Fall of Arthedain, led by Glorfindel. It is likely that Imladris and Arthedain were conducting some kind of negotiations, since Arvedui was, before the Fall, sending out pleas for assistance on all fronts.

1)Elf Emissary – - Nilpaurion Felagund (Bethiril)
2)Elf Emissary - Mithalwen (Erenor) - ** FIRST POST NEEDED **
3)Elf Guard - Garen LiLorian (Maltóre <called Angóre>)

[Novnarwen]

I'm very sorry for being so late. I apologise!

PLACED ON GAME PLAN ~*~ PIO

Novnarwen's post

Brander had been sitting on a wooden stool for several hours now, in the middle of the bedroom, second floor of his family’s residence. Silently, he listened to the noises that filled the air. By hearing the sound of steel against steel, the cries of pain and roars of either personal victory or of horror, the blind boy managed to make images in his head of every aspect of the battle. He could almost see the soldiers struggling against hordes of Angmar, trying to manoeuvre the enemy into defeat. He could see everything so clearly, probably clearer than others who had a perfect vision; the sky was dark, choking every happy moment in the soldiers’ memory as they fought what seemed to be an endless battle. As a carpet, the heavy clouds lay floating over them, deep and threatening, suppressing every good feeling which still remained in their tired bodies. Fright and terror took command over them and forced the men to turn around to meet their worst fear; not the orcs themselves, but death. Death and defeat. They knew in their hearts that they, soldiers, were the symbol of hope during this battle; if they were defeated, there would be no hope left.

At times when he sat there, quietly by himself, feeling useless and weak, his brother, Faerim, and his father, Carthor, appeared in a long series of images, both in the ongoing battle. Did any of the cries of pain and despair belong to them? He wondered. Brander had never cared much for his father. He neither loved nor hated him. Indifference, one could call it. Now however, realising that death was so close, he felt badly about his feelings towards the man who had bred and fed him. Was he not grateful for what his father, and mother, had given him? To some extent he was, Brander admitted. The problem was not what Carthor had given him, it was what he hadn’t, which, in Brander’s eyes, were far more important than other things. His father had never given him what most fathers gave their sons, such as confidence, trust and responsibility. Carthor had never been proud of him either, partly because Brander had never really achieved anything significant, which was most due to his blindness, but Carthor had never given him the chance to do anything either. Brander tried being independent, tried trusting his own abilities more than others’ willingness to help, but it was hard when he was always being looked down on, not only by his father, but also by others. Society in general seemed to hate the fact that he was blind and decided thus to ignore him. He was educated and young; it should not be hard for a man like himself to get work. In his case it was however. Brander had tried many a time, but everything had resulted in the same manner.

He closed his eyes hard, tried thinking about something else; in fact, anything else. His mind failed him. His father was out there; he was indifferent about what happened to him. He hoped on the other hand, that his brother would return home safely. He and his mother Lissi had expected Faerim for the last hour, but his brother had not come back. What ill has befallen him? Brander wondered. Even though his brother was always favoured by their father, he loved his brother. There were few who treated him the way he did, equally and with respect. If Faerim died, Brander would also.

**

Slowly, time went by. It seemed that while he’d been sitting on the stool, thinking about his brother and father and listening to the sounds from the ever growing battlefield just inside the walls of Fornost, he had forgotten how hungry and how tired he was. Now drowsiness was sneaking upon him, as a sly enemy, making his eyelids heavy. He stood up and walked silently over to the bed in the corner of the room. His brother would come; in the meantime, he could sleep.

Everything he’d heard when being awake, the sound of the wall falling and the men crying, had surely been tucked into his sub consciousness and was currently depriving him of the good sleep usually brings. The images he had so effectively and eagerly created, haunted him. The uneasiness he felt could be seen as pearls of sweat bathed his forehead and doubled quickly in number. He lay trembling with fear as the face, or the image, of Faerim appeared in front of him. His whole figure seemed to rise up in front of him, enlarging by every second passing. Suddenly, a bow, right in front of him, was spent. An arrow, as fast as the eagles fly, ran through the air, almost touching the dark clouds; its target had been carefully planned in advance. A scream of horror echoed. A man sunk to the ground, his face halfway buried in the sand. He writhed in pain, rolling back and forth, until he rolled no longer. The features in his sombre face could be determined by a weak source of light; the image of the pale face belonged to without a doubt his dear brother Faerim.

Brander opened his eyes wide. With tears in his eyes, he realised that the arrow had not been sent by his brother; the bow had been spent by an unknown enemy, hidden in the shadows. He rose quickly to his feet, greatly alarmed by this frightening, but yet realistic dream. “It cannot be true,” he muttered to himself, “It cannot.” He wanted to call for his mother, but the thought of making her worried with his dream, seemed to be the dumbest thing he could do. After all, it was only a dream. Nothing more. When thinking it through though, he realised that the man in the dream might as well have been his father. I’m blind, he thought, I don’t know how either of them look like. It’s only an image, an image of a person I don’t know. This seemed to comfort him, and with renewed hope in seeing his brother come home soon, he took his position on the stool again and waited.


****

Please let me know if it needs any edits. Osse - I hope I haven't put Carthor in a bad light. Please tell me if you want me to change anything and I'll edit accordingly. I think it can be interesting with some ‘family-intrigues’ though..

It's great seeing all the profiles and the posts! This is going to be a really great game! That's for sure! Can't wait!

Cheers,
Nova

[alaklondewen]

*** THIS IS THE LAST POST OF THE PLANNING THREAD ***



Ereglin had spent the greater part of the day in anticipation of a call from the king for council. In the early morning, he had surveyed the enemy’s forces from top of the second wall. Wave after wave, the horrid black creatures climbed, scratched, and attacked the walls of the city. Even with the aid of the Elven guard and the halfling army, the forces would not be able to withstand the fury of the enemy for much longer. With this understanding, the Councilor had prepared himself to stand before the king, because surely Arvedui would wish to have Elven guidance with a decision of such importance as what the final move of the city should be. He had sent his guards to fight on the wall in the late morning, and he would await the kings guard to escort him to Arvedui’s towers.

~*~*~

The sun was waning, and the late afternoon light lit the Emissary’s hall with a warm orange glow. Ereglin stood silently in the shadows still waiting for his call to council. He knew it was too late, and he felt like a bitter fool because of it. Many winters had come and gone since Ereglin had come to that city, and he clenched his teeth as he thought of time and energy he spent on the alliance between Lindon and Arthedain and what he had let go so the job would be done...

Ereglin took a deep breath. The clamor in the city was becoming much closer, and the assaults against the wall shook the foundation of the Elf’s hall. Unconsciously his hand slid under his robe and gripped the leather hilt of his sword. A choice would have to be made soon, and if the king wished for one last stand, he would fight once again, alongside his guards. The idea was displeasing. He was a skilled bowman and spent several hours a week in exercise with his sword, so it was not that he did not have the ability. It was not that he was a coward, for he feared not death nor pain. However, his place was at a table with the intellectual, political minds, not in hand to hand combat with filthy beasts.

The Emissary sighed again, and a knock at his door demanded his attention. “Come in.” He called, and a slight hope rose in his chest that one of the king’s guards would enter, summoning him to council.

“Councilor Ereglin, I am pleased to find you here.” One of his young guards strode quickly before him with eyes flashing with adrenaline.

“I would not be elsewhere, Gaeredhel.” Ereglin spoke under his breath, and then he hoped the young guard did not catch the bitterness in his voice. Swallowing the virulence he felt, the Councilor spoke again, more smoothly than before. “What tidings do you bring?”

“The king, sir...he has called for a retreat to the north gate.”

“Very well.” For the third time, Ereglin took a deep breath before he followed Gaeredhel out of the hall and into the streets.

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Arry, I used Gaeredhel minimally here based on the hooks in your post. Please do let me know if you wish I'd used his brother instead or if something needs to be changed.

I'm looking forward to this starting. All the action is so exciting.

~Alak


*** THIS IS THE LAST POST OF THE PLANNING THREAD ***