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Hidden 9 yrs ago Post by LadyRunic
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LadyRunic The Laughing Raven

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CS:
Name: Lathronien 'Ghost-Eye'

Age, Gender, Race: 72, Female, Elf

Appearance: Only a little over two decades and a half till she reaches her majority, Lathronien has the cast of youthfulness about her. With dark black hair, and blue eyes so pale they almost appear white. she was aptly named 'Ghost-Eye'. She is not of average height for a elf of her age, reaching only the shoulders of her kin she grows slower. But she is growing, none the less. Her form graceful, if not a bit underweight. A beautiful face, she is oftening smiling. Mocking, laughing, or just in pleased delight. Her back is horrendously scarred, something she keeps hidden. Though she cannot keep the stiffness or curl of her right hand hidden. Her pinky and ring finger of that hand move more stiffly than the others and seem to curl against her palm all too willingly. Lathronien wears a simple brown tunic, over a shirt with a tad too long sleeves that are quickly getting just barely long enough and breeches. Dressing more like a male than a female for movement. With boots and a cowl, she also wears a set of gloves when she can. She wields two knives tucked into the top of her boots, a third at her waist along with a elegant- yet small- sword. A bow and quiver of arrows are strapped to her back.

Equipment: A short sword of Man-make. Five daggers of the same make. Two in each boot, one at her waist and two on her wrists. A secret purse is hidden inside of her tunic. A bow and quiver with arrows of Man-make. Her coin purse is light and holds merely enough for food and a cheap room. She has one large coin hidden in her boot.

Personality: Lathronien, unlike her elders, is not reserved in the least. She's open with her thoughts, though she is attaining a polished edge to it- it's a uphill battle. She respects art and poetry like others of her race, but refuses to comment upon them or stay about- especially when it is Elvish. Fierce, she has the youthful drive that she can take on the world and win. But for her blunt and fierce mannerism, she is more akin to take to the shadows and go unnoticed when around the towns of Man or grand halls of Elves. Reserving her natural self for the few number of lesser masses. Though when in such areas, items do tend to have a habit of disappearing and reappearing in her possession. Something she will blatantly deny. She keeps her secrets tightly guarded, not allowing any to learn of them.

Story: The goals for Lathronien are to see if she could find a healer for her hand, and to potentially see more of Arda before she leaves for the Valar. Her cheif interest lies in Angmar and the remains of Moria. Both places that interest her, though heading to the South to see what lies pass Gondor and what remains of Mordor.

Biography: She's alone, for a Elven child this is rare. But the reason why is not so strange, though Lathronien will not say why to any. She lived on the southern fringes of Mirkwood. Her mother and father both rather having the quietness and peace it brought, enjoying the solitude. However it was a costly mistake to be so far from the protection of others and dismiss the dangers. Her parents were killed fighting some of the more fearsome creatures (She does not remember what exactly.). It was during this her back was torn to shreds when she was struck down and a section of their home fell upon her. A portion of her hand was damaged by this leaving it partly paralyzed and damaged. After extracting herself she fled the forest, not knowing where to go and only knowing to run. It can be safely and correctly assumed she's lived among Men for a time, hiding her identity well, and thieving to survive. Before journeying among the Elven settlements and joining a group heading to the West. Stopping over in a town she left the group, as they had begun to ask questions she did not need asked, namely about her past.

CS:

Name: Darcyn Telcontar

Age, Gender, Race: 36, Male, Man

Appearance: Darcyn is a tall man, standing at six foot one. His hair is lank and could be any colour under the grim, though it's brown in reality. With a thick, unkempt beard his face appears older than his years and haggard. His brown eyes are filled with hatred and some sort of blood lust. Wearing a mixture of armor from Gondor and Rohan. A chest plate, with matching greaves covers a shirt of chain mail. He wears tough leather leggings and boots, a helm of the Rohirrim style. At his waist, a sword, and on his back, a shield. He aslo has a horn and two daggers with him. When not in armor, he wears a simple shirt and tunic, with breeches- often wore and hard used. His body is fit, if a bit chubby about the middle, and he bares more scars than a sane man should.

Equipment: Armor from Gondor and Rohan which consists of leather leggins, boots, and a chest plate. His helm is of Rohan make. Two daggers on his belt, one in his boot. Under this he has a chain mail shirt, and when not wearing his gear he reverts to a stained shirt and tunic, and worn breeches. He also wields a sword and a shield with the emblem of a blue swan.

Personality: To put things in the simplest of terms would be best for Darcyn, he was never the sharpest nor the best political man. Darcyn is a man of doing, a man who thinks his race superior and himself best of all. The world focuses on him and for anyone else to interfere in his spotlight would be a blemish he could not allow. This often causes fights and ends him up either in trouble or in the middle of a brawl. He also will never, ever admit a elf may be better at sword play than he, or that dwarves are not related to goblins. This idea must have been come by in a drunken stupor. A womanizing, pig-headed man. He sees his way as the only way. Darcyn is crude at the best of times and down right volatile at the worst of times, taking his fury out on those about him. His only loves are gold, himself and arguably fighting. The bloodier, the better.

Story: He wants to go into the mountains and hunt down Orcs, exterminate their horrid race along with the goblins and trolls. He will most likely be found by most as the type of man he is and cause problems and discord. He is not about to help the people about him, but he is a good fighter.

Biography: Darcyn was a veteran to the army, but he never liked Orcs before that. Now he wanders about and slays groups of Orcs with his band of merry Bounty hunters. But due to a unsuccessful raid- which he tells everyone was a horrible slaughter on his part- his band was broken. Lost and annoyed, he is travelling to Bree to gather up more men and make the route down the Misty Mountains to Gondor again, slaughtering for their blood money. Darcyn is happy as a man like him can be with his life and should anyone question him, it's going to be a very long day until they get rid of him. He's come to the town to hope to get more men or get paid for a job.

CS:

Name: Selwyn Maegladiel

Age, Gender, Race: A elven maid. Her age is unknown, though she has said with certainty she watched Celebrimbor's death.

Appearance: Long black hair of the Noldor, her eyes are a deep green. Fair of face and form, her body bears scars of a warrior. She wears black leather covered armor, with a thick cloak. Gloves and boots of soft leather sewn over with leather covered plates of metal she stands a full five foot nine. Not the tallest of her kin. But she is lithe and dangerous as any being can tell.

Equipment: Two swords of ancient Noldor make, a orcish shield, Elven bow from Valinor, arrows of orc make, a helm of black metal. Knives in her boots, wrists, one in the small of her back and one on her belt. Under that armor is a tight tunic and breeches of plain cotton work.

Personality: She is sharp as her swords, and quick to take charge. Her elvish has a lit to it from days of old. In all.. She is a mysterious and curious Elf. Though one would do well not to get too close, Selwyn likes her secrets and keeps them close to her heart. Or what is left of it. She is ruthless in a fight, and to any being. If you cannot walk, or prove of use. You are discarded.

Story: She wants to locate the three palantri, and other artifacts in hopes to revive her Lord. Selwyn will do whatever it takes to make his plans fall correctly now that the last of her Master's men have failed.

Biography: She was born shortly after the Elves came from Valinor. Her mother died during her birth, and her father was slain in battle. It was in her youth that her power and the darkness in her, the light having left when her father was returned dead and cold, that called to Melkor and his servants. She left her kin and walked into Melkor's grasp. There she learned and grew in strength and power while Morgoth twisted her kin into the Orcs. Selwyn was ever faithful to Melkor, watching and waiting in the shadows. Relaying knowledge back to her Master and biding her time. Sauron was doing much of the work for her and she was not needed to. When Melkor, the Witch King, and Sauron fell she then rose. The seed of darkness had been planted, but it would require watering, and a hand to pluck away interfering weeds.
Hidden 9 yrs ago 9 yrs ago Post by OnlyThePie
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OnlyThePie A Solitary Pastry

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Name: Dwarin

Age, Gender, Race: 186, Male, Dwarf

Appearance: A dwarf of average height, Dwarin has a long black beard, which is often a tangled mess. He has the generic short nose and stocky frame of a dwarf. His eyes shine with the deep greenish brown that many of Dwarves of Erebor now carry. His left hand is missing his ring finger. His clothing consists of a deep dark red cloak, the generic dwarven tunic/trousers, and a nice pair of boots.

Equipment: Dark Red Cloak, Iron helmet, Backpack with food and limited cooking untensils, iron axe for times of danger, steel mail for protection, a small-medium amount of Gondorian coin, and large amount of the coin of Erebor and Dale.

Personality: Dwarin is a bit of an eccentric. He loves smithing and making things as much as the next dwarf, but he also loves studying the history of old places. He's a bit of an adventurer, and other dwarves find him odd for this. He loves collecting artifacts of old and crafting them into something new to display the glory of the old days. He's a big fan of alcohol and is no stranger to all the weird things the world has to offer.

Story: Dwarin wants to collect ancient artifacts and rework them into museum style pieces which he thinks would fit nicely in one of the old dilapidated halls of Erebor that nobody can remember the use of. He has a particular interest in things stolen by the dark lord, and strange things of the East. He plans to visit Mordor and the far east eventually, though there are rumors of bits of the original dark lord's fortress in Angband or father north.

Biography: Originally born in the Iron Hills, Dwarin moved into Erebor shortly after its freedom from Smaug. He worked to help restore the great city, and helped defend it from the siege of the folk of Sauron. After the war of the ring and the healing of the rift between dwarves and elves, Dwarin set out on adventures. He visited the halls of the wood elves, journeyed through Gondor and paid respects to the king, visited the lands of the Rohhirim, and even stopped in briefly in the Shire to learn of the hobbit folk. At the time of our story, he is journeying to visit the Beornings between the Misty Mountains and Greenwood the Great (The original name for Mirkwood, now restored with the loss of the dark power).
Hidden 9 yrs ago 9 yrs ago Post by jordy0403
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jordy0403 I'm the little one

Member Seen 6 yrs ago

Name: Meonwel ‘Nemirenia’
Age, Gender, Race: 27 (looks), Male, Maiar
Appearance: Warm brown eyes, wild brown hair, tanned skin, simple long coat, rough underclothes, boots.
Equipment: Plain wood staff, simple knife, simple messenger bag.
Personality: Shy, secluded, inquisitive.
Story: To join up with possibly some of the other characters, and set off to get rid of the remaining darkness in Middle-earth, and drive it back further.
Biography: Nemirenia, or Meonwel, came to be only recently, and to middle-earth even more recently. He was taught by Radagast for several years, as the other Maiar were caught up with the Ring. After this, Meonwel set off to help animals everywhere he could, and, while travelling, learnt about the darkness, and the fellowship and everything else related. Deciding to find out more, he eventually came to the decision to try and rid this remaining darkness. Unfortunately, he knows that he can’t do it alone, deciding to try and join or make a party to at least drive the darkness back
Hidden 9 yrs ago 9 yrs ago Post by Shade
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Shade Unnecessary things are our only necessity

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Vunkar Black tongue

78, Male, Uruk-Hai

Appearance:
Vunkar has a tough rectangular face with a defined, slightly sharp pointed chin and a solid jawline. His dark slit eyes are abyssal pits that entrap a short and flattened nose between them, two momentary and narrowing eyebrows hang above them like crows on a branch. Below are a chiseled cheekbones, like birthing horns reaching for the lobes of his stubby and held back ears.

The lips that once felt the warmth breath of every black word he uttered, now stand dormant. Thin and mostly unused, they are the only diminutive feature of Vunkar's appearance. Across their sunless creases are the many pale scars of his past, vicious slashes that lead into his mouth and what remains of his bloodied tongue.

Beneath his wrinkled leather hood is a completely hairless head, decorated only with the trophies of battle, as the rest of his muscular body succours. He dons a varied armor set over his athletic body and on his muddy grey skin; an iron plated leather chest piece that is worn like a shirt, with sleeves that come to the elbow; thick hide arm guards that stretch from elbow to wrist; hide greaves with leather padding that sit just below the knee, boots with spiked iron soles for grip; a right knee 'capper' adorned with a serrated iron blade; overlaying leather fauld to reinforce the mid-section; turned leather cuisses that are tightly tied around the thighs; a left side iron pauldron with outer spiked frame; 5 iron finger guards spread unequally between both hands.

Equipment:
  • Two hidden daggers - One on the underside of his left arm guard, the other lodged under the left leg of his cuisses.
  • A crossbow that is hung on his back.
  • Ten crossbow bolts in a large stolen man quiver, also on his back.
  • An Uruk Hai sword that hangs by his side.
  • A water skin and food sack that are tied to the back of his waist.


Personality:
A mind as steady as his aim, Vunkar is a believer in strategic advantage - in almost any of lifes situation. He is not easily talked down from cautiousness, though does not ignore arguments of reason as long as his eyes are cleared of crimson flame. He is fair in both trade and contract agreement, though this may not extrapolate into more 'sociable' skills.

Story:
The Black Tongue is a ghost among the dead in the land, among the twisted branches and whistling grass, his bolts fly in a song of screams. Severed limbs, bloodied and crumpled bodies, in piles or pinned to walls - such rumors have spread like disease among those who enjoy gossip. Some say he will slit the throat of any who mock his nonspeaking, pull the tongue from their mouths through the flowing wound, rip it from them with his blade sharp teeth and eat it raw as he watches them slowly die in a puddle of their own life blood.

While some of this may be true, there is only one thing that anyone can be sure of, one thing that would not be under debate. The Black Tongue is a deadly efficient killer, the best at what he does. His kill count is in the hundreds, and they can only keep on rising. Vunkar is comfortable in his reputation and life, though he still searches for his lost companion.

Biography:
Shara Gajutar Ta-parat
(~Black Speech~)
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