Blood Run: A Terror Returns Discussion Thread

[piosenniel]

First Post for the Game


All Toby’s life, Bree had been such a peaceful place. The Great War had ended, and the King crowned, and the last of the ruffians driven from Breeland, all in the years before his birth. As he had grown up, Bree had flourished, even undergone something of a rebirth, and it was in an age of peace and prosperity that he had started his own family and raised his children; Robbie – or Rob, as he was more often called now – would be ready to start his own family in a few years, and even young Lark was hardly a child now, but blossoming into a young maid. The years went by so quickly, and till now they had gone by with hardly a care.

Of course, there were always the small concerns of daily life; whether most of the ewes would beget healthy lambs in spring, or whether the summer would receive enough rain for the grass to grow thick and green. But Toby was not the worrying sort; Nature takes care of itself, he’d often said.

This wasn’t just the weather or the sheep, though. An unknown menace had been prowling the area at night, killing local livestock. Some simply went missing. Others were ripped apart. Toby had lost four sheep now, within the past two weeks. And just last night, his trusty herding dog Rudy had gone missing. He had found the remains near the edge of his land, barely recognizable as his beloved dog. He had buried him out there, both out of sentimentality and practicality; not only did it seem wrong to simply leave him out there, but Toby also knew that the scent of fresh blood might draw the beast back, and he wasn’t just thinking about the protection of his sheep.

This was about the safety of his family.

Unaccustomed worry lines had creased his face in the past couple weeks. He felt defenseless against this thing, whatever it was - something, or someone, and that was a chilling thought. Long discounted tales from his childhood came to mind, tales about the nameless things that stirred in the Wild. The Wild suddenly seemed a very nearby and menacing place to Toby, who had always considered Bree the safest (if the only) place he knew.

So far, the beast had been content to kill only animals – mostly sheep and pigs, but some cows as well, and now his Rudy, and he had heard tell of a couple cats that had gone missing as well. But who was to say that it might not get a taste for hobbit? No one had ever seen it; would it break in the door? Slip through a window?

Finally, finally now, the mayor had agreed to do something about it. Not that it was much; anyone could hold a meeting to discuss the events. The mayor, Toby thought bitterly, was more fit to head up the social events of the town than to protect it from any real threat. Of course, up until a little while ago, that had been sufficient and Toby had never had much of a complaint. As long as something might happen as a result of the meeting… no, something would happen. Toby would not let the meeting end before a plan of action had been decided on. He himself would head it up if need be. Those town folk, Toby wasn’t sure if they really understood the seriousness of the matter, but there were others who lived out here outside the town walls, others who had the same fears as he, and they would follow him, he knew. They had just as much stake in this as he had – their lives and families to protect.

There had to be something he could do.

—Firefoot

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Mayor Hershman of Bree – a tall, willowy man with a large nose and a genuine smile – stood on a small platform at the front of the fair-sized hall. The room before him was filled with worried, excited, and angry townsfolk. He knew he had waited too long to call this meeting, and he knew that still this was not quite what the people were looking for. At times like these, people wanted action. But no one knew what was going on…did they expect him to know any better?

The people stood clumped together, and voices at various level echoed around the hall. Mayor Hershman did his best to look stately, but he found it uncomfortably warm in the town hall, though it was barely spring. The five elder “counselors” that aided him in his duties were seated behind him. Hershman glanced at them, searching their faces for something. Did the people really look to him and these men to help them? They were old men, including himself!

After the mayor felt he had watched enough people – men, women, and entire families – enter the town hall, he gave a nod to one of the counselors, who called the room to order and relative quiet with a booming voice and the ringing of what was little more than a cowbell. It worked well enough. Mayor Hershman wasn’t exactly soft-spoken, anyway.

“Breelanders,” he began, loudly but not as if he were shouting, “our livestock, our pets, and perhaps even ourselves and our families are in danger.” Of course a new set of murmurs and voices not so soft ran through the crowd, but no one was shocked by the mayor’s statement. Everyone knew it was true, everyone knew it was on all of their minds, and everyone knew Hershman never wasted any time skirting an issue – at least once he got down to it.

“I am just as lost as you – no, I know of no one, either, who has seen this…this menace…and though I know that no matter what we’re up against, that we’re going to fight it with all we’ve got-” he paused, and there were a few shouts; not all the hearts in Bree had grown soft, even in this time of peace. But very few of them had actually faced any enemies before. It was Bree…nothing ever happened in Bree…

And yet, Hershman thought he remembered a story…no, those were never true.

“But before we can do a thing to stop…whatever, or, heaven forbid, whoever is threatening us, we have to figure out what we’re up against.” He paused to clear his throat, and this time there was mostly silence. Anyone in this hall could have come up with that thought, he knew. “Now, I know we all have what it takes to protect our land and our loved ones, but in this fearful time, I am calling for a group of Defenders of Bree…to be led by Toby Mugwort, a strong-hearted Breelander since birth.”

The shepherd had already proved to be a loud and dynamic voice in this matter, particularly with what he had already lost to this invisible threat. And the world knew that Hobbits could do great things. Allowing the duty that he hoped many would feel sink in, Mayor Hershman slowly scanned the room, making sure not to really look at anyone in particular, but taking in familiar faces. “Who else will answer the call?” The town hall was suddenly filled with a greater clatter than had been heard in Bree in many years.

—Durelin

[piosenniel]

Character Description Form:

Have you posted in The Golden Perch Inn, in The Eorling Mead Hall in Rohan, or in one of the now closed Inns: The Green Dragon or The White Horse? – YES/NO (You must have posted in one of these Inns before you can play in a game.)
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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:


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First Posts will be required for this game:

First posts should place your character at the Town Meeting, give an idea of how concerned they are for the town and their opinions of the situation (such as their thoughts regarding the mayor waiting to address the problem for so long), establish any previous connections with other characters, and (perhaps most importantly), tell how your character volunteers to help discover the problem and combat it.

[piosenniel]

Durelin, Firefoot

Now open for posting

Prospective players please check in and say what sort of character you'll be writing a bio for (include the sex, please.)

And well, heck, if you've got a bio already done - go ahead and post it.

Thanks!

~*~ Pio

[Durelin]

Huttah.

As a notice to everyone - the first post for the game will be completed and in place shortly. But, if you already have a bio complete, please go ahead and post it, though we ask that the first post not come too long after.

Also, feel free to post any questions, suggestions, or notices (such as, as Pio said, what type of character you are planning on playing).

Thank you, Pio and Child for all your help. And thank you to all those interested in this little game.

[piosenniel]

You can take a look at the opening posts for the game HERE on the RPG thread or scroll up to post #11 on this thread.

Looking forward to seeing your bios & posts all you hidden players!

~*~ Pio, game moderator

[Firefoot]

Hey, all! Can't wait for this to start - I'm looking forward to seeing your characters...

And everything Durelin said.

[Thinlómien]

I'm so enthusiastic about this!

Just wondering... You guys said you'd prefer a majority of male characters. I have nothing against male characters, but for personal reasons I'd prefer playing a female (I've felt that my male characters tend to be far better than my female ones, so I'd love to take a challenge and make an intriguing/good female character!). So could I design my character later, when I've heard of more players so that if there's to be too many women, I'll play a male, if not, I'll play a female...?

[Forest Elf]

Linked to Player/Character list ~*~ Pio
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NAME: Grimbeorn Tinuviel

AGE: 23

RACE: Man

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: Sword and he has a good shot with a bow and arrow, but prefers to use the sword.

APPEARANCE: Standing at 5'10 he would appear as a bit tall. His face bears a scar from just above his left brow that goes down his face, slanted, until it stops in the middle of his right cheek—a result of barely escaping death. His hair reaches down to his shoulders, and is a dark brown, almost black colored because it is so dark. His eyes are a light green, that once gave his face a cheery look, but ever since he had gotten the scar, they make him appear alert and dangerous. His clothes are that of a simple woodman's. He has a bit wild look about him, mainly from his scar upon his face. He also has scars on his chest and arms.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Stubborn and hard headed, this is not someone you would want to argue with, or have get angry at you. Not that many people would, mind you. His greatest wish when he was young was to be a ranger and he grew and became one. His temper is quick to come, yet it is also quick to fade away. He has a kind heart, yet isn't a softy either. He knows when to hold his tongue (even if he doesn't always do that), and he knows when it is fine to speak. He often pushes himself striving to protect those around him, or to set new challenges for himself. He can be foolish at times when he holds a grudge against another, or when betrayed. His memory is sharp, though, he strives to remember his childhood memories...many, or which he never will. It is hard to earn the trust of this ranger, because many of the memories he has are sad. He sometimes sees faces that are familiar to him, yet he cannot recall who they were, or what part they played in his memories. His decisions are usually quick and not thought through, which has gotten him into trouble countless times.

HISTORY: He does not remember much of his childhood, why, he does not know. What he does remember though, are the few memories of his parents is his mother, who died of an illness. His father left a few months later and was found dead in the wilderness. After that, he closed his heart to many. Once he was of age, he wandered from place to place, remembering his childhood dream, until he achieved it. He faced a small group of orcs, there were only four or five of them, and he attacked them after following them for a time. He managed to kill them, but nearly died from doing so. He would have died if it weren't for an old friend who recognized him and brought him to his home until he was of health again. After hearing of the killings, he traveled to Bree to find out what he can of the killings, and see if he can put a stop to them.

(fixing a mistake that was pointed out to me)

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Forest Elf's post


Grimbeorn sat there, his ears working and listening as he took in every word that was said. He was alert and aware or everything going on around him. He could see fear for the welfare of the ones these people held close to their hearts; he could see their fear and worry about where this creature or, this being was going to take its next meal from. Keeping his face guarded so as not to show any of his feelings, as he had done before at events in any town, city, or hall’s meetings. It was a habit he had, one that he knew he should quit, but found that he liked being at these meetings with such a look, even though at this guarded look could send people wondering if he was the one behind this. He could always say that he had merely gotten here yesterday, as he had, but he doubted that anyone would believe him on that.

As he listened to the argument, he felt that it was very pointless. After a few men had volunteered he stood. Looking at the mayor he stated, loudly, “I have traveled for many days to get here, after word of the killings got to my ear. I did not come all this way to simply sit around listening to arguments and plans, I came here to help find out what…this, this thing is that’s killing these livestock and few pets and put an end to these killings that have been ruining the lives of these peoples!” Then, he after realizing what he had said, he thought he may have appeared a bit wilder and dangerous with making that statement. He didn’t wish to pose as a threat to anyone but that thing that was taking the livestock. He lowered his head a little to hide his scars, thankful that his hair was long enough to conceal it away in shadows, so that he might not appear as frightening.

[mormegil]

Linked to Player/Character list ~*~ Pio
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Name:

Kuric Spearhead

Age:

211 years old

Race:

Dwarf of Dale

Gender:

Male

Weapons:

Kuric makes a one handed mace his weapon of choice, though he is proficient at many blunt weapons and battle axes. He wields these implements of war with his left hand. He carries with him, as a matter of habit, some rather small and generally ineffective throwing axes. His garb is that of a fine mithril chain mail and is always wearing it, even during his sleep. On his right arm he employs a medium size buckler as a means of defense and occasionally using the spike as an offensive weapon. His left hand is now covered with spiked gloves.

Appearance:

Kuric is tall by Dwarvish standards, standing at a respectful 5'2" and nearly as broad as he is tall. He is barrel chested and his muscles are taut and well honed for combat. Kuric is not attractive even by dwarf standards and has many scars on his face and body and is missing a piece of his right ear. Kuric's beard which was once fiery read is now mostly grey with streaks of red. His beard comes well below his knee but is usually tucked into his breeches so the length doesn't always show and due to his apathy concerning hygiene, his beard is unkempt, wiry and scraggily. His nose is crooked and large due to many breaks along with a noticeably unsymmetrical face. He has a large pronounced forehead with deep set eyes usually covered in their own shadow, if they are seen; however, they appear to be a deep blue hue. There is a depth to those eyes not easily forgotten by those few who have witnessed them.

Personality/Strengths/Weaknesses:

Kuric first and foremost loves adventure and wealth, even now in his old age he will not be deterred and often sets forth on adventure. He is neither a miner nor blacksmith, though he is capable at both as most dwarves are. This passion for adventure has led him over large portions of Middle-earth and is known in many different lands. He is strong, sturdy and hard. Socializing and building friendships have never come easy and he is generally viewed as discourteous, gruff, and rude. While he doesn't make friends easily he is as fine a traveling companion as can be had, unless he is crossed and then he will carry that grudge with him for decades or until the offender is dead. If a friendship is made, he is devoutly loyal and extremely giving, by his standards as he tends to be rather selfish and self-serving otherwise. Kuric has only a small amount of individuals whom he would consider friends; generally they are fellow adventures and have proven to be strong in battle. He is generally distrustful of elves though he has made a friend with one in the past. Of other races he prefers dwarves, for obvious reasons, and men.

He is strong as an ox and with his mace or other blunt weapons he usually inflicts massive amounts of damage to a foe, when they connect. Despite his age he has been able to keep himself fit, though he is not in his prime anymore and is not as strong as he once was. He is a veteran warrior, having fought in a numbers of skirmishes and actively fought with Dain’s people in the great war of the ring. He has a great sense of battle tactics and maneuvers however, he is rather dim-witted otherwise. While his battle tactics are sound if he is sufficiently roused he will go into a rage and looses all sense of thought, this has not been tempered through the years and he sees no reason to stop his berserk rages as they have served him well in the past. He has been known to have others take advantage of him due to his less than optimal mental prowess.

A strange quirk of Kuric’s is that he utterly refuses to ever wear a traveling cloak. He will wear a pack but otherwise refuses to cover his mail, which he displays proudly.

History:

Kuric is originally one of Dain Ironfoot's people and has taken up residence in Dale, if his existence could be considered as taking up residence. His true home is on the road of adventure.

He derives his last name not from birth but from a certain battle. He had been disarmed and backed into a wall by a troll and without much hope of victory he propelled himself off the wall directly in the stomach of the troll, hoping to knock the troll down and simply get away. The force was so great that it caused sufficient internal damage so as to kill the troll.

Kuric is familiar with Bree and has spent periods of time amongst the people though an enemy to none he is not good friends with any. He find himself heading to the Northlands in search of real adventure because for those who love combat not much has been found since Elessar was crowned.


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mormegil's post:

Kuric was rather well traveled, even by dwarf standards and had seen many places in Middle-earth and visited a large amount of areas both civilized and uncivilized. He was and adventurer and treasure hunter and loved to be on the move. Little had slowed him down, after a 5 year respite back at home; if it could truly be called home for he spent such little time there, in Erebor Kuric decided it was time to go seek adventure once again.

After the great war of the ring, in which Kuric proudly fought along side his people, Middle-earth had found peace for many years, and while this was good for most, it was horrible for Kuric. He felt bored and needed some adventure. North was the desired course for him. Perhaps he could find adventure outside the realm of King Ellesar.

Kuric had intended to head to the northern reaches of Eriador to seek out trolls, orcs, or other foul creatures. While on his way he took a brief reprieve in Bree and was familiar with the area as he had stayed here on previous occasions. While familiar with many he was not overly friendly with many, though some of the hardy men became Kuric’s drinking mates and they had many good nights at the Prancing Pony. Kuric was ready to set off once again when he heard of strange happenings, Kuric was excited that adventure found him in the least likely place and anticipation coursed through him and he figured he might as well see this out. He knew that this small and rather pathetic, little establishment would need the veteran leadership and experience of an old campaigner such as him. He would whip this rag tag crew into shape and get to the cause of this mystery. He decided he would attend the meeting and give his aid.

Sitting through the meeting Kuric was happy to hear that the mayor didn't pull any punches and was honest with the townfolk. As a whole, meetings bored him and this was no exception too many people talking and not enough decisions. After hearing Grimbeorn speak up about his experience and the need the town would need of his aid, Kuric could take it no more. He stood abruptly, chuckled loudly and stated matter of factly " Bah! You need a dwarfs help in this and I've got nothing better ta do at the time so I'll be helping you all out here. After all I've seen a bit more adventure than the lot of ya and if things get rough ye'll have me mace, it has sat idle for too long now and is quenching some blood." Kuric grinned and was rather pleased with himself. He felt he had a way with words and making people feel at ease.




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[Thinlómien]

Finduilas PMed me and asked if I could play her character's sister and I agreed. (As you game owners had asked her if she could find another player to play either the sister or the brother, I gather this is alright with you two, isn't it? )

[piosenniel]

About your First Posts for the RPG:

Once you've written them - please edit them into the post where your Character Bio is.

Makes it easier for me to transfer them to the game thread.

Thanks!

~*~ Pio

[Durelin]

Apologies for taking some time to answer, Lommy. But-

Yes, please go ahead with that plan! I hoped, when you expressed interest in playing specifically a female character, that it would work out this way. Lov-er-ly.

We're glad to have you aboard and we can’t wait to see your character!

Forest Elf – Welcome aboard! So glad to see you! Please check your PMs for the one little adjustment we need before we can officially accept Grimbeorn.

mormegil – Welcome aboard, as well! Kuric looks great. He be accepted!