Character Submissions

Seven Stars and Seven Stones and One White Tree.
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Guard of Citadel
Points: 722 
Posts: 443
Joined: Thu May 14, 2020 3:34 pm
Character Submissions

Here you may log your Gondorian-based RP characters if you wish to do so, and read about other people's characters.

Feel free to use the template below or to create your own.

Edits and additions to your character submissions are allowed (even encouraged when necessary!) at any time.

You can post as many characters as you like!

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Name:


Age (bracket):

Physical appearance:

Personality:

Biography:
Last edited by Arnyn on Thu May 21, 2020 9:56 am, edited 1 time in total.
Arnyn ~ Honor & Valor
Kaylin ~ Joy & Strength

Guard of Citadel
Points: 722 
Posts: 443
Joined: Thu May 14, 2020 3:34 pm
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Name:
Arnyn Dealedwen

Past nicknames: Steel Stream / Axinecélüme

Age (bracket):

29 years old

Physical appearance:

- Long, golden blonde hair - worn in a single braid when on duty
- Dark brown eyes
- Fair skin, oval face
- Two rings pierced into each ear
- Athletic, slender, muscular
- 5 foot 11

Personality:

- Realistic
- Kind, empathic
- Balanced between intro- and extravert
- Honest but careful with her opinions, diplomatic
- Idealistic, strives to be the best she can be

- Enjoys good conversation, can be pulled into a game of darts
- Rarely drinks

Biography:

Arnyn was born and raised in Minas Tirith.

Her father, Narûel, died when she was eighteen. Her mother Kadya and brother Tercen moved to Ithilien, but Arnyn didn’t move with them. Instead she took to a year of traveling before settling back down into Minas Tirith, a city she couldn’t say goodbye to.

She joined the ERC at the age of nineteen and made her way up the ranks, of which she held a few: Hyander Lieutenant, Hyandaner Captain, Major and SinC, and finally Commander.
At the height of her career, she resigned her post and left to join the wandering rangers in the north of Middle-Earth.

The death of one friend too many briefly pulled her back to the White City. Dhalion, who had throughout her time with the ERC become more family than friend, had left her a farewel letter and gift (something soldiers and Rangers alike often set up before leaving on a campaign): a necklace with a blue gem in the shape of a teardrop, which she decided she would carry always.

It took her another stretch in the north before she was ready to return to the White City. Not expecting any of her old friends to welcome her back with open arms – she had left them, after all – it touched her heart to see how familiar and unfamiliar faces alike received her. When one of the letters issued by the King about the dispersal of the Gondorian Army found her, she was surprised and honored to be considered for a new version of the Rangers.

Knowing it was probably her only chance at fixing what had broken inside of her, she heeded the summons. She would be proud to once again be called a Ranger of Gondor.
Last edited by Arnyn on Fri Jul 24, 2020 9:56 am, edited 3 times in total.
Arnyn ~ Honor & Valor
Kaylin ~ Joy & Strength

Loremaster of Gondor
Points: 353 
Posts: 149
Joined: Thu May 14, 2020 4:31 am
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Name:
Turin Nûril Ringhûn

Past nicknames: Tulwar, one of the Bash Bro’s

Age (bracket): 28 years old

Physical appearance:
- Athletic, slender, muscular
- 6 foot
- Along with scar across right eye, scar on right side of neck that circles to the back of neck.
- in particularly stormy weather, has slight limp on the left side.

Personality:

- pessimistic
- introvert, until gets to know you.
- have to earn trust. Loyal once have it.
- kind, and has a good sense of humor. Have to have earned trust to see it though.
- has deep pains that he tries to hide.

Biography:

Turin was born and raised in the Brown Lands. On a rare occasion, his family would visit Minas Tirith, mostly to trade goods as his family comprised of farmers.

His father and brother, Turo and Huro respectively, died assisting Eomund in Emyn Muil. His mother too, died when he was young, due to an illness. Due to being orphaned, he left home and ventured to Mirkwood. He was raised to adulthood by a group of elves (that had been outcasts themselves) until one fateful day when most of that group fell to an ambush.

Afterwards, Turin made his way to Minas Tirith where he met the love of his life Nessa and was soon married, and the two had a daughter Ellin. Turin unfortunately spent much of his time away to commitments with the military, though many letters were sent between them while he was away. While in the Gondor army, Turin made his way up the ranks, eventually becoming an officer.

In his last campaign against the forces of darkness, he saw death up close and personal once again, being saved by an old officer who had come out of retirement for that mission. At the conclusion of the mission, he resigned his commission. But for reasons only known to him, he did not return home to his wife and daughter. Turin made his way north to deal with his personal demons. While there, he managed to reconcile with the few remaining survivors of the elven band who raised him after his family had passed. Letters continued to be sent, but these were infrequent.

Still fighting his inner demons, Turin remained in the brown lands, becoming a farmer at his childhood home, until one day he got a summons for a new Ranger organization in the capital. Though he knew he was placing himself back in the path of death, he felt it worthy to try to at least prevent others from experiencing the same suffering he knew all too well. He answered the summons, taking up the mantle of Ranger once again.
Last edited by Turin Ringhûn on Tue Jun 02, 2020 7:50 pm, edited 3 times in total.
Always mystify, mislead, and surprise the enemy- Stonewall Jackson
Hubris guarantees disaster.- T C

New Soul
Points: 1 191 
Posts: 1049
Joined: Thu May 14, 2020 2:39 am
Name:
Zevarion, goes by Zev

Age (bracket):


Physical appearance:
- Short stark white hair that often sticks out in every direction
- Clear, bright green eyes; full of mischief
- Athletic, slim build
- 5' 6"

Personality:
- Mischievous, impulsive
- Determined, can be very singular in his focus at times

Biography:

Mother died when he was fairly young, raised mainly by his domineering father, left home at a young age. Essentially ran away and ended up living aboard a ship for many years, sometimes with less than reputable crowds. Eventually ended up in MT, and joined the rangers, training and serving as a Hyandaner.

Upon the news of his father's death, and with suspicions that the family's secrets were deeper than he realized, and the 'family business' was...less than honorable, he left the Minas Tirith, with not much of a word to anyone. He discovered his uncle was the head of the main operation, and believes him responsible for for his father's death. Morwen was sent to find him, by request of Pele. The two have been working together to get to the heart of the operation, and find his uncle, after Zev refused to return to Minas Tirith with her.

They have now returned to the city, and Zev has seen an opportunity to rejoin his fellow soldiers, and gain further skills to help him continue in his quest to find his uncle and finish this business.
Last edited by Burnt Toast on Tue Jun 09, 2020 2:49 pm, edited 2 times in total.
they/he/mischief

Tilion
Tilion
Points: 2 096 
Posts: 1626
Joined: Thu May 14, 2020 3:21 am
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Image

Kamion

Race: Man of Gondor - Northern Dúnedain

Age: Mid-60s

Biography: Kamion was born in T.A. 2960 to parents Darellon Balakân and Haldanis in an embattled Dúnedain settlement in Rhudaur. Less than a year into Kamion’s life his mother vanished- assumed to have been abducted or killed in the forest, though her exact fate remains unknown. Consequently Darellon raised Kamion alone, moving with the boy to Minas Tirith, abandoning his life amongst the Rangers of the North and finding work in the Steward’s army, training soldiers. Darellon placed Kamion in the finest school he could afford, which though it did address the basics of scholarly education concentrated on grooming the boys who attended it to enter military service.

From a young age Kamion knew that it was his path to serve in the army of Gondor rather than take up a trade or return to his ancestral home in the north and join the Rangers there. He traveled to Rhudaur several times in his youth in the company of his father, and while he was glad to acquaint himself with the land and people of his birth, Kamion’s love of the White City drew him home. There was never a time in Kamion’s memory when he was not in martial training with his father, and was given an introduction to many types of weapon and styles of fighting. While proficient in several of these, Kamion quickly found his true love in the longsword.

At the earliest possible age, Kamion joined the army of Gondor and continued to train his skills and body, while at home continuing to train his mind. Though he was no longer being formally educated, he had a love of knowledge which drove him to pursue the scholarly ones as well as the martial ones, both of which were encouraged by his father. By this time Kamion had grown into a strong young man- standing taller than most at five inches above six feet, with broad shoulders and sturdy legs, but an uncannily graceful quality of movement, his hair black and shaggy and eyes a startling cobalt blue. The latter was apparently inherited from Haldanis, which Darellon often reminded his son, saying they were the only piece of her left.

In keeping with his bloodline, as he aged Kamion retained a generally youthful appearance, though he has picked up the scars and signs of wisdom and worry that come with a militant life. At his current age in middle sixties, he is generally a mild-tempered man, but passionate when roused and capable of commanding authority; intensely loyal and unwavering in the service of Gondor, he will do what must be done in order to carry out his task, but always err on the side of honor given the choice. Though he never desired leadership or command, through long training in many martial areas, long experience, and prodigious skill with the longsword in particular, in his youth had found himself rising through the ranks and called upon to train and lead his fellow soliders, and has served as a Sergeant in the army of Gondor for many years. He has now answered the call to join the new Ranger Corps, and see what lies ahead.
Evil is a lifestyle | she/her

Counsellor of Gondor
Points: 1 210 
Posts: 574
Joined: Thu May 14, 2020 8:37 am
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Name : Ilisys Azrubêl, of Lond Côl, Dor-En-Ernil

Age (bracket) : 40-ish (Pure Dunedain bloodline, as is typical of Dol Amroth nobility)

Physical appearance :

Tall and pale with grey eyes.
Long dark black hair, usually fastened in some obscure (once-exquisite) fashion which has since fallen loose during the rigors of daily life.
Commonly draped in splendidly expensive garments, although largely adapted (and not always so exquisitely so) to accommodate her needs.
Scarred left forearm as a consequence of a nasty open fracture, gained (amongst other past injuries) in jousting practice – scar is usually covered up, not out of vanity but because a forearm must needs sleeves, bracers, etc.


Personality :

Not one for offering her opinion upon a situation, not aloud.
Can thus appear aloof or disinterested at times.
Can often be relied upon to be unpredictable.
She has a history of giving away priceless treasures that greatly outweigh the deed that ‘earned’ them, possibly because she has always had a good deal of wealth at her disposal. This can cause her to be deemed as naïve though, rather than generous.


Biography :

The house of Azrubêl was synonymous during the late third age, with the affluent estate of Lond Côl (the ‘Golden Harbour’). An enterprising blockade runner during the Siege of Pelargir had won great wealth and celebrity enough to wed a maid of impoverished but impeccable breeding. Together the decadent Azrubel and their new austere Dimaethor relatives protected the attractive coastal land which became reputed for the family’s recent influx of money as much as for the beautiful sand that met the sea in that vicinity.

The father of Ilisys followed his forefathers thus by bearing the name Araldur, and entering the prestigious order or Swan Knights. Yet he was the first of his descent to produce a first-born daughter. He named his unconventional heir after the protagonist heroine of a play which he had recently enjoyed at the theatre, and expected sons would come thenafter, whom he could entrust with his name and his legacy. But, lured toward emulating the Guild of Venturers of old Numenor, he invariably died young.

Raised as an only child in a decorated home, Ilisys nurtured a close friendship with the only other person of her agegroup in the large house; her father’s young page, Anardil. Easily excited by her adventurous father, she was nonetheless grounded by her practical mother, who managed the estate’s welfares and finances while their lord was off partaking in such as the Siege of Umbar, with the future King Elessar. When Araldur took full advantage of the Corsair’s ravaged armada, to explore and harvest treasures from the Harad coast, the Enemy struck back in vengeance, putting fire to a ship where the Belfalas Lord was celebrating his birthday at home with many friends and family. His wife, the lady Eressild, had feigned the children’s need for bed to escape her own seasickness and departed (with her brother-in-law's escort) from the doomed vessel not long before it was transformed to a deathtrap, killing all those left on board. The arsonist was revealed as an Umbarian named Salukhatar Halsad, who later took his own life in the Dol Amroth dungeon that this atrocity earned him.

Her father’s death had a great impact upon ilisys who vowed to take up Araldur’s sword, become a Swan Knight, and be avenged upon her nation’s nautical foe. Fortunately her mother was supportive of her only child proving capable as any son might, and the family could afford to well equip and train their unconventional princess. But all too soon the courtesies of gender clashed with the romanticised requirements of a chivalric career. For her late father’s page to now attend her as squire, and dress the young woman in her armour for battle raised some eyebrows, due to the assumed intimacy between them. Her handmaidens were ordered to chaperone for jousting competitions, but could not be expected to accompany their lady to the perils of true war.

Rumours abounded and the Lady Eressild fretted, for no respectable lord of Belfalas was like to wed a well-born daughter who was ‘entangled’ with a squire. Ilisys and Anardil, who were in truth as though brother and sister to each other, and the best of friends, left Belfalas and spent time in Minas Tirith where his cousins lived, while Lady Eressild sought to quash the rumours back home. This was achieved by the distraction of the late Araldur’s younger brother, Edhelmir, obtaining a wife, and soon after, a male heir to inherit the Azrubêl dynasty, and the bulk of attention.

Edhelmir was lost at sea soon after that and his young son, Emeldir, was only three years old by the War of the Ring; so Ilisys and Anardil it was that rode forth to represent Lond Côl at the Battle of Pelennor. The lady actually swore to ride utterly unclothed into battle if that better suit the gossips of court, but they politely allowed that if she substituted the usual knight’s plate armour, for lighter chain mail which she could handle without help, then naught more would be said upon the matter.

After the Return of the King, Ilisys was left with naught to do but roam her decadent family home while her squire put the last of the ‘eloping’ rumours to rest, by marrying the girl whom he actually loved, an astronomer’s daughter named Gael. Ilisys was happy for them, although felt abandoned, until a letter arrived, from the new returned King of the Reunited kingdom. The promise of a lively career to satisfy her want for adventure, free from the constraints of ‘proper’ civilisation was too good an opportunity to turn down. And in service as a ranger rather than a knight, she could certainly garb herself in the necessary armour. This was not a joust. It was to be something else entirely.
Last edited by Ercassie on Mon Jul 20, 2020 9:24 am, edited 6 times in total.
From the ashes a fire shall be woken.

Guard of Citadel
Points: 722 
Posts: 443
Joined: Thu May 14, 2020 3:34 pm
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Name:
Kaylin Maethyr
Age:

24-25 years old

Physical appearance:

- Long, red hair
- Blue-grey eyes
- Fair skin, oval face
- One hole pierced into each ear
- Lean but muscular
- 5 foot 9

Personality:

- Optimistic
- Friendly, sociable (gets bored easily)
- Assertive , extravert
- Honest, direct
- Thinks people should accept her the way she is

- Likes to play dice (for money or not, doesn’t matter, she plays for the fun of it – she’s always been extremely lucky at dice)
- Good drinker and perhaps likes a drink too many sometimes

Bio:

Kaylin was born and raised in Linhir, a port town in Lebennin, situated at the ford near the confluence of the rivers Gilrain and Serni, not far from their estuary into the Sea.
She came to Minas Tirith several years ago at her father’s request.

Her parents are both alive: her mother (Mira) is a shopkeeper, her father (Bracken) a soldier. He wanted his daughter to go to Minas Tirith because he believed it would be the best defended, but Kaylin made her own choices upon arrival: she joined the army and moved into their barracks.

When Kaylin arrived in MT, she had good stamina and agility, and was only skilled in unarmed combat, with basic knowledge of handling a sword and no experience with other weapons.
During her time with the army, she developed her skills with the sword and rose to Master Sword.
After training with other weapons such as the spear and the bow, she became a Master at Arms.

Her first winter in the city, she met a Ranger named Thûllir. They have meanwhile married and moved into family housing.
The dispersal of the Gondorian Army left Kaylin with a gaping hole in her identity. Therefore she jumped at the chance to join the newly created Rangers of Gondor.
Arnyn ~ Honor & Valor
Kaylin ~ Joy & Strength

Child of Gondor
Points: 220 
Posts: 80
Joined: Sat May 23, 2020 5:36 pm
Name: Arinelle

Age: Will be turning 30 soon

Appearance: Arinelle's skin is tanned by many hours in the sun. Her hair is dark, but not quite black. It's curly and unruly, and usually she keeps it in a braid. Not a very long one either - long hair isn't practical for a soldier. She's of average height, but the way she stands makes her appear taller. Her muscles show well. Her hands are callused. There are scars on her arms, there's one on her cheek, perhaps there are more scars on her body. Nothing major, but it is clear she has seen battle. Her eyes are brown as a muddy road, she likes to say.

Bio: Arinelle was born in Dol Amroth, the younger of three sisters. Their young brother died in childhood.
Coming from a well-off family, she was well educated, and expected to act a certain way. Instead, she ran off, repeatedly; first to the waterfront, then joining sailors and learning the craft of steering a boat. With friends she sailed more than once along Gondor's shoreline. The salt tang of the sea, the wind, the freedom away from land - it was exhilarating.
Her first visit to Minas Tirith was when her older sister Laurenel married a ranger of Ithilien. The sight of the White Tower, standing proud and tall against the smoke and shadow rising from the east affected her deeply. A few years later she packed up her things and returned to join the army.
Years of service followed. And then the King returned, the war ended, and Arinelle found herself a soldier willing to serve, only apparently her service isn't needed anymore.

Personality: The rebelliousness of Arinelle's youth got shaped by service into an ability to think on her feet and a habit of speaking out when she believed it necessary. What insecurities she had in society, compared to her "proper" sisters, got washed away by age and a sense of pride in the work she did. Arinelle is very much a soldier - she plays cards, she drinks with friends, she curses like a sailor. She is open, direct, generous towards her friends.

Child of Gondor
Points: 220 
Posts: 80
Joined: Sat May 23, 2020 5:36 pm
Name: Elphir

Age: 50-ish

Appearance: In his youth, Elphir was considered very handsome indeed. He had keen grey eyes, raven-black hair, an elegant line of mouth and jaw. He kept his hair combed, his beard neatly trimmed, his clothes pristine. (When he was not crawling through the mud in Ithilien, that is.) But though he is of a noble line of Numenor, time lies heavy on him. His gaze is weary, his back is bent, his hair is streaked with white, and his left arm is missing below the shoulder.

Bio: Elphir became a soldier at 15, against his father's wish and express command. At 18 his request for transfer to Ithilien was approved. In Ithilien he had served for many years, as the shadow of Mordor grew. Having married the fair Laurenel, he had requested to be transferred back to Minas Tirith. For a while he saw little action. At this time his two children were born: Galastel and Anardil. But as the orcs came fiercer and more often, Elphir felt it was his duty to return to Ithilien.
In the battle at the Black Gates, Elphir lost his arm. Since then he has been struggling to find his place. Financially, the disability benefits Gondor pays and his own family wealth are more than enough, but what kind of life is it, for a man who used to have a purpose?

Personality: Elphir is kind, polite, his anger wakens slowly. Always he weighs his words before speaking, always he tries to be diplomatic, and to see all sides of a problem. He acts responsibly, not impulsively. His family are his greatest joy. He has an appreciation for beauty, for art, for poetry, and also a fine singing voice. But up until recently he has had little time to engage with these interests, and now that he has, they fail to satisfy.

Craftsman of Gondor
Points: 106 
Posts: 29
Joined: Thu May 14, 2020 7:27 am
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Name:Red (Mark) Daghul

Age (bracket): 36, Dunedain (may need to fix this once the year is decided)

Physical appearance:
Black hair that falls to his shoulder that finds it's way into his face like it had a mind of it's own, and grey eyes that seem to be searching the soul trying to piece together the truths in a person His smile has a way of cutting through the defenses of the most walled up person due to it's friendly nature. Standing around 6 foot 2 on a good day his build is that of a man who has trained most of his life for living outdoors and war, it is littered with scars from old battles.

Personality:
Red is a good natured man, who quite often gives more then he gets, to him it is of up most importance to see others succeed in becoming the best people they can be. Partly because he needs to feel that he has earned the respect and love of his friends, and will often put their needs first as a way to hide his own pain and desire to be loved. It is important to him that they are taken care of, even if that means taking from him, and if it comes to it he will figure out how to fix himself too. Often it has been said that he needs to take better care of himself first, and allow others to help him rather then always being there for others. Being able to say no is important at times, and self care has a place.

Empathy is huge, feeling emotions of what is going around can cloud his mind, so at times he can become numb and cold in order to do what he must. Though he has a long fuse, anger can get the best of him. Sadness lurks, and if he doesn't remember to vent and let go emotion can cloud logic. He trusts his gut, and intuition over, the black and white of logic.

Biography:
Red Grew up in the north with the Dunedain, his mother and father being rangers though everything changed when he was framed for a attack on his people by a band of orcs in the third age. Sending him to live with his aunt and uncle in the white city Mark changed his name to Red Daghul in order to start a new life. There he became a ranger of Ithilin and fought with them as a new recruit during the war of the ring, afterwards joining the ERC as a Hyandaner gaining rank till he became second in command with Turin.

After Turin left he led the Hyandaner for a short time before feeling that all his friends had left, and not seeing the ERC as a huge need deciding rather it was time to go make amends with his family he and his Cousin Robin went to the north. After finding that his family had found the true traitor and dealt with them he lived their for a season before his sister, Robin and he went on their own adventures helping people through out the land as a small band of rangers.

Now he finds himself back at the white city, the call and desire to once again fight for the white tree renewed in his spirit.
~Red Daghul~
Hyandaner for life!

Scholar of Gondor
Points: 214 
Posts: 105
Joined: Thu May 14, 2020 5:15 pm
Name: Finduilas Faelivrin
Fin = golden hair; las = leaf) Faelivrin = the gleam of the sun on the pools of Ivrin

Age (bracket): About 150, appears in mid-20s

Physical appearance: Tall for a woman, about 5’10”, long blond, wavy hair flows down her back when she’s not working, falls in ringlets about the face. Thin, though muscular. She likes to keep busy and is physical. Eyes: green as the sea. Any distinguishing marks (scars etc.): Scars on wrists and ankles from imprisonment by Corsairs; scar from scimitar slash running from left shoulder down to her waist; tattoo of silver tree entwined with white tree in right shoulder blade (from childbirth). She dresses for comfort, though enjoys dressing up for special occasions.
Personality: Friendly, always looks out for others’ needs before her own. Empathetic.

Biography: She is a Master Healer/Herbalist, though she carries a self-crafted longbow, Eryniel (“of the woods”) with shell handgrip and horn nocks; Quiver holding 16 gray goose-fletched arrows, wood from a Hickory sapling. Her hobbies are reading, writing, hunting and herbal lore. Findy enjoys nothing more than to throw back her head in a hearty laugh.

Her speech is flowery on occasion but not in an off-putting way. She is optimistic and determined, generous to a fault, brave and often puts herself in danger to protect others. She is intelligent and always polite, though impatient in matters of the heart, more likely to cry when wronged (bounces back quickly). She is a natural leader and is almost always too hard-working.

Her parents first met when her father, Andurmir, was wounded while a Ranger and Silwen cared for him. They fell in love over time (to the consternation of Findy’s uncle Sorontar) and moved to Minas Tirith. Findy was separated from her twin brother, Salairmir, at birth (to protect them both). Findy was raised in Minas Tirith and she and her brother were reunited some years later. Findy keeps several volumes of journals. One is an herbal journal, which contains drawings and cuttings from countless plants, as well as where they were found, how the weather was on each day, and what they can be used for, both medically and in cooking. She also has several volumes of her life memories.

(I think I got most of the details right. More to be added to this when I decide what to do with Findy and how much of her past to keep.)

Counsellor of Gondor
Points: 1 210 
Posts: 574
Joined: Thu May 14, 2020 8:37 am
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Name : Addhor Raxëlilta

Age (bracket) : Early 40’s


Physical Appearance :

Tall and dark haired with brown eyes, Addhor was an athletic youth with a robust temperament. Experience rather than age has taken it’s toll since then.
Every Ranger bears inexhaustible scars but this veteran is also missing his right leg from just above the knee. He wears a wooden equivalent, beautifully carved from lebethron wood.
Resilience compels him with obstinate obsession and his delving into the art of carpentry has assisted in the preservation of strength.


Personality :

Addhor is not an open book, as much as he might claim to be. He shares little with most, and much with very few.
He has ever been extremely loyal to his country and for all the damage that his time in service did him, still enjoys indulging in the tales of adventures from his youth.
His family he holds a great affection for, though he has a domineering tendency that can infuriate those he feels a need to protect.
Alcohol usurped his existence long after it had dulled the pain of his injuries and the abandonment of his young wife, so he can tend to view a pint of ale with the same trepidation as a foe these days.


Biography :

Addhor was born in Lossarnach, while his father was away on tour as a Ranger of Ithilien. He was less than three years old when his father was killed in action and can, to his regret, recall nothing of the man. His mother was pregnant with Addhor’s younger brother (Domanol) when they moved to Minas Tirith, and she raised her two sons in the city single-handed, whilst supporting herself as a cleaner. At the age when he was scarcely a man himself, Addhor learnt that from a cousin that his late father had in fact been a Ranger. Previous attempts to speak upon the subject of his patriach had met only his mother’s tears, and so he had not pressed the issue before. However, her upset at his decision to enlist now did not move him to change his determined mind.

In service he fought alongside Beren Camlost and Duinion Raedor and other friends of his youth. It was with some of these friends that he returned on leave a few years later and spent an alcohol-drenched evening at a local pub. The next morning, he and three of these friends had wed the four respective young women they’d met only the night before. A bold acceptance that they may never return from duty saw more than one of those marriages consummated during the brief interlude of such a flyaway courtship. Luisa Raxëlilta found herself to be pregnant after Addhor had returned to the wartorn forest of Ithilien. His mother, Odessa, duely took the young addition in, and all the family were overjoyed when Luisa bore Addhor a son, Unalmis.

A few years later Addhor’s company were ambushed by Orcs, and suffered heavy losses. He escaped with his life although without a good quantity of his right leg; which an Orc had hewn from his body and sought to beat him to death with. Countless blows about the head meant that Addhor fell from consciousness quite swiftly and recalls now little of the actual experience. Come home to recover, Addhor fell to alcohol to soothe his pain. Luisa had already struggled with the relentless demands of their small son, and found it further more difficult to tend to her husband now as well. His long absence from her side had already taken their toll on their distant marriage, and Addhor was scarcely surprised when she departed from the family home. That same night, his younger brother, Domanol, took up with the Ranger’s sword and set off in his stead, for vengeance on the damage done to his beloved elder sibling. Neither one of them has ever returned and for the longest time, Addhor believed they had run away together, rather than face that their initial marriage had all been a rather idealistic mistake.

Odessa soon began to quarrel with Addhor more often over his increased drinking and the welfare of his son, whom the grandmother was forced to do much raising of herself. It was not until some fourteen years later that Addhor was finally forced to recognise what he still had to lose; a now adolescent Unalmis fell for the lies of a deviant Umbarian, seeking vengeance for a wrong done him by the errant Domanol. Though a pair of nobles from Dol Amroth were to set after the foe themselves, seeking the abducted ship of their countrymen (which Unalmis had sailed on), Addhor insisted upon going with them. Against all odds, and despite the losses of a great many lives, the party infiltrated Umbar and, after a series of unfortunate and unforeseen obstacles, they managed at least to bring the naïve young man home. Addhor has since made it his mission to keep a better eye on his only child, his legacy. This has required him to realise that alcohol is not as important as family. For Unalmis is impetuous and requires much dedicated watching over !

Taking up a carpentry apprenticeship in the city, Addhor finally found a new calling in life, crafting with woodwork in efforts to appear as a better example to his child. Not only does the nature of his new profession take the former Ranger back to his forestry past, but he has discovered a new lease of life, and new neighbours. Though surprised to find himself enjoying the company of Nelladel Alarion, a baker in the marketplace, Addhor began to wonder quite what other aspects of his life he had assumed were lost, but could be equally recovered. It transpired though that Nell was an old acquaintance of a mutual acquaintance, Beren Camlost, and the mother of Beren’s now adult son besides. When Nell chose to put her family first, he could scarcely blame her. He had a son himself and knew well what that meant. So when Beren came back into Nell and Mourgan’s life, he certainly could not object, to see those he cared for now happily reunited.

Unalmis became concerned a little that this disappointment/the war might see Addhor return to his drink-fuelled days, but was delighted to note that instead, his father invested in a carpentry shop of his own. Every day now is a tiny take-back of a life the former Ranger has decided he still wants, albeit very different to the one that he once imagined.

Edit reason .. - some details, re: the wife running away whilst pregnant with a Rohirric lover, have been removed now from this biography, because someone else has now also chosen that exact same background for their character, and I should like personally to be able to draw on background that is more unique. The reason for Luisa's departure has thus been altered slightly.
Last edited by Ercassie on Sat Sep 26, 2020 4:47 pm, edited 6 times in total.
From the ashes a fire shall be woken.

Child of Gondor
Points: 220 
Posts: 80
Joined: Sat May 23, 2020 5:36 pm
Name: Myrtle

Age: 23

Appearance: Myrtle is quite short, only about 1.50m. She has auburn hair, hazel eyes, a small upturned nose and many many freckles.

Bio: Myrtle was born in Archet, by Bree-hill. They were not a rich family, but not a poor one either - her father was a woodcutter, they got by. Her mother could read, and had taught her too, and when book merchants passed by, Myrtle would sometimes buy a tome from them. She had neither brothers nor sisters, so her parents pampered here somewhat, allowing her this luxury. Her father did not come back from the forest one day, when she was fifteen or so. Still, mother and daughter made do. It was thus, however, that Myrtle was alone in the forest one day, and so came to meet a ranger, Gwathmir.
The people of Archet kept their distance from rangers, for the most part. But Gwathmir was handsome, and charming, and interesting to talk to, and only a couple of years older than Myrtle. Some in Archet shook their head in disapproval, but soon after her seventeenth birthday Myrtle was engaged to Gwathmir. Myrtle couldn't be happier, and Gwathmir, she knew, felt the same way.
Gwathmir got called away on a mission - his comrades needed help, there was some danger further north. It was supposed to be only a short one, he promised to return well before the wedding. He never came back. And there was that night in the barn, before he left. It was a consolation to have something of him that would remain. But the neighbours did not see it that way. She was unmarried and pregnant. There were suggestions first of certain herbs, then of "drowning the little bastard the moment it's born". Myrtle's mother died that winter. After that, she no longer felt safe to stay.
Alan was born in Rivendell. The elves offered Myrtle a place to stay. They were kind, that's just how they were. But the tales in the Hall of Fire, they told Myrtle what kind of a future Alan could expect, growing up there: Turin, Beren - they were remembered as heroes, but the association with elves brought them much pain and suffering. This was not the life Myrtle wanted for her son. She had help reaching Minas Tirith. She had made her way there in the end, and then she had to make it in Minas Tirith. She started out as an apprentice with the Clothiers' Guild. Then came years of journeymanship spent in Lebennin, and now, finally, she has managed to rent her own shop in the Minas Tirith marketplace. And Alan - he came to Minas Tirith a baby, strapped to his mother's back. Now he is a strapping lad of six, helping his mother, or running off to play with other children.

Personality: The first impression one gets of Myrtle is that she's timid and meek. She's polite, she keeps her eyes lowered, she doesn't argue. But there's steel and determination under that soft exterior. She couldn't have made her way from an outcast in Archet to a shop-owner in Minas Tirith. She might bow before a wind, but she will not break.

Craftsman of Gondor
Points: 214 
Posts: 164
Joined: Wed May 20, 2020 3:35 am
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Name: Nelladel Alarion
Age: 35

Appearance:
Long black hair often wore in a braid for working in the bakery.
Green eyes.
Fair skin.
Womanly figure
5"5'

Personality:
Genuinely good natured but having 5 brothers has learned to stand her ground.
Holds family dear and loves children.
Quick to laugh but takes her work serious.
Keeps her feelings close and only shares them with those closest to her.

Bio: Growing up on a simple farm with 5 brothers Nell was often found trying to trail them around. Whatever they were doing she wanted in the middle of it but being the only girl she was often sent home or shushed away. This only made her want to join in their adventures more but her Father would not have his daughter covered in dirt and debris. She was made to learn all the boring skills young ladies were supposed to enjoy. Sewing, cooking, cleaning..blah..blah..blah.

At 15 she had fallen head over heels for a young man but knowing her father and brothers would disapprove they kept their relationship a secret. Young love would not be denied and when the summer ended she had more then sweet memories to remember their time together. She was with child. She shared her secret with no one and when she told him his reaction wasn't what she was expecting or hoping for. He left. Being so young he was unable to face his responisibilities or more so her Father and 5 brothers.

Thankfully her Father and oldest brother Mangus had brokered an acceptable marriage and still keeping her secret she accepted. He was kind and loving. An honest man of twenty who owned and worked his own farm and when she gave birth to her son he toasted the birth of his son. He loved Mourgan and was every bit the attentive father to the young child. For five years they lived a quiet simple life. She loved him and loved that dispite the fact Mourgan bore no recognizable features of her husband he'd never asked why. He simply loved his roll as Father.

Nothing last forever. He became sick and although the healers were summoned they simply shook their bowed heads as they left his bedside. He was wasting away before her eyes and she could do nothing more then make him comfortable. Dispite his weakness he always entertained Mourgan, now 5. He would read to the boy and tell him stories of battles and adventures while the young boy sat on the bed beside him, playing with his carved horse and rider. The white tree carved into the shield.
The day was sunny and the birds sang but in Nells heart it was the darkest day of her life as she stood, her young son leaning against her leg while her brothers lowered him into the ground. She had to be strong for their son and so she didn't wail or sob but her tears found their way down her cheeks all the same.

After the burial she returned to their home, their farm. With some strong pursuation she agreed to move to her brother Mangus home. He was a bachelor and nearly never home. The farm would be kept in order for Mourgan when he became of age. Two years past. She'd decided to move to Minas Tirith much to her brothers disapproval but with a small son to raise she set her jaw and packed their things.

There she found work in an old bakery. She found a squirrel nesting in the oven and with some help from Mourgan they evicted the squirrel and had the ovens working in no time. She found she enjoyed her work and with the small apt above it they settled in to their new lives. Time past as it has a habit to do and with it she'd worked herself into the title of Master Baker. When the time came it was her duty to let Mourgan know of his inheritance but even she was surprised when the deed also came with a time worn letter.

It was from her husband. It explained that he'd had an injury in his early teens and he'd been told he would never father a child. He'd guessed about Mourgan but saw the boy as a gift, a chance at fatherhood. He took it and ran no matter the circumstances of his becoming. Mourgan was his son and so claimed him making it impossible for any other to question his birth or birthright. He would inherit all that he'd worked for and he only hoped Mourgan would someday work the same soil and make it his home as well. Her tears stained the worn parchment as she folded it away for safe keeping.

With her brothers help she informed Mourgan of his inheritance and then she also explained the reason Mourgan would sometimes be mistaken for someone else. His telling was hard for her and although he took the news well it brought to the surface many feelings she thought she'd safely tucked away. She would deal with them on her own time and in her own way. Mourgan inquired about his birth father but having had no contact with him since that day she couldn't give him the answers he deserved.

For now she builds her life in the white city...
Last edited by Isolde Alarion on Sat Jan 09, 2021 2:36 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Isolde Alarion/Rohan~Nelladel Alarion/Gondor~Mourgan Alarion/Gondor ~Relic/Umbar

New Soul
Points: 685 
Posts: 752
Joined: Thu May 14, 2020 11:26 am
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Name: Jaena (Jay to friends)
Age (bracket): Early thirties
Physical appearance: Jaina has brown hair and brown eyes, and a tall, athletic build. She is of the Dúnedain, and used to be a Ranger of the North.
Personality: Practical, organized, and logical - Jaena is a good person to put in charge of logistics. She is quiet and methodical, and gets on at least as well with horses as with people. However, she is also fiercely loyal to those that earn her trust.

Biography:
Her family has lived in Arnor for generations, after following Elendil from Númenor and settling in Eriador when Elendil established his kingdom in the North. She is a very distant (fourth) cousin to Beren Camlost. Jaena’s parents were both rangers; her father was slain in battle with orcs and she now carries his blade. During the War of the Ring, she came south and joined Gondor in the fight against Sauron, and then never left. She has recently been recruited to join the new Rangers of Gondor.
She/her. Almarëa - Rivendell / Jaena - Lone Lands (T.A.) and Gondor (F.A.) / Layna - Mordor

Winddancer
Winddancer
Points: 1 880 
Posts: 2272
Joined: Thu May 14, 2020 11:22 am
Image

Image
Thea

Age: 18

Physical appearance: Skinny, her clothes hanging on her loosely as if she has lost weight recently. Long dark red curly hair. Emerald green eyes. 5'5'' in height. Thea's hands are often red and raw from her job.

Personality: Usually quite bubbly, though lately more withdrawn. Loyal and honest. Usually never goes against an authority figure. Takes pride in working hard. Of late quite melancholy.

Biography: Thea lost her mother when she was quite young, raised by her father Belion. She does not know much about her parents meeting, or about what her father did during the war, only that he fought in it. Thea assumes she was born in Minas Tirith, as she has no memory of any other place, though has never thought to ask her father as it has never come up. The small family were never rich, though Belion's work as a clay pipe maker and her own jobs, were enough to keep them well fed, clothed and housed. Belion died two years ago, making a trip to Rohan to sell his pipes. Thea is crushed that she never got her father's body so that she could bury him. Currently working at the Garrison laundry.

Child of Gondor
Points: 220 
Posts: 80
Joined: Sat May 23, 2020 5:36 pm
Names: Galastel and Anardil

Age: 13 and 10, respectively

Physical appearance: Both are dark-haired and grey-eyed. Galastel's hair has never been cut, Anardil's is shoulder-length. Both children have fine-boned faces. Galastel is in the middle of a growth spurt, Anardil hasn't started his yet.

Personality: Galastel is active and adventurous. She enjoys physical activity, and has little patience for sitting down and studying. She loves being outside, and is curious about nature and its secrets, distant lands and the people who live there. Anardil is not averse to physical activity either, but he enjoys also the study of history, puzzles, riddles, chess. Both children are kind and well-mannered (or at least try to be). Galastel, as the eldest, tries to be the responsible one, but struggles with an impulsive nature.

Biography: Galastel and Anardil are Elphir's two children. Arinelle is their aunt, their mother Laurenel's sister. During the War of the Ring, while Elphir and Arinelle were both on the front lines, Laurenel took Galastel and Anardil to their family in Dol Amroth, following the Lord Denethor's instructions to empty the city of civilians.
With their father a ranger and their aunt a soldier, Gali and Nari always felt close to military life, and as children assumed that would be their life as well. With the war over, and Gondor finally safer than anyone could dream of, they now have the opportunity to choose a future for themselves.

(I'm not always going to keep Gali and Nari together, but they are together a lot, seemed redundant to have separate posts for them)

New Soul
Points: 1 191 
Posts: 1049
Joined: Thu May 14, 2020 2:39 am
Name:
Morwen

Age (bracket):


Physical appearance:
- Short, almost shaven raven black hair
- Deep golden eyes
- Muscular
- 5' 10"
- Jagged scar covering her face, from the upper right temple, down across her eye, bridge of her nose, and down to her left jawline

Personality:
- Serious, though has lightened a bit over the years-- is now more full of sarcasm and a bit of subtle mischief (compliments of time spent with Zev, probably)
- Can come across as rather cold occasionally

Biography:

Served as a Hyandaner Ranger for a time, left the Minas Tirith, to seek out an errant Ranger by the name of Zev, by request of Pele. Has since been working with Zev to find his uncle, after Zev refused to return to Minas Tirith.

They have now returned to the city, led there by their quest. Morwen has joined the Rangers once more.
they/he/mischief

Loremaster of Gondor
Points: 294 
Posts: 217
Joined: Sun Jun 07, 2020 10:16 pm
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Name: Abrazimir Dimaethor /Abrazimir of Lond Côl.

Physical Appearance: Like all pure-blooded Dunedain, Abrazimir is tall and sturdy. He is grey-eyed as is the custom, with hazel locks diligently groomed into a bun or ponytail. He is broad shouldered, with long arms, and sports various scars as proof of deed and valour in battle.

Personality: Abrazimir was raised in a noble household, being literate, attentive to the civic virtues, and enjoying a relative degree of comfort when not on military duty. However, his noble family’s failing wealth has led to recent descendants of this bloodline to actually have to sully their hands with work and crafts to keep afloat, garnering Abrazimir a determined, obedient work ethic. His father is still a vocal proponent of traditionalism, often being the sole voice within the household, leading to Abrazimir adopting a more stoic, quiet manner of speech as a result of this upbringing.

Biography: Abrazimir (sindarin. Mîrhimon) was born (2990TA) the son and heir of Lord Zâinabên (s. Cemmion) Dimaethor, a minor Lord and fiefholder of Dol Amroth, and his wife Orelnith of Lebennin. One of three children to the aging Swan Knight, he has an older sister Zorzimril (s. Mîrnorriniel) who adheres to their father’s preaching of Dunedain nobility and a younger, more idealistic sister, Azraindil (s. Gaerlothriel).

As a young man, Abrazimir was swept up in the tales of the great wars of Gondor and its long struggle against the dark. Being the most recent member of a long line of warriors and knights, it was well known to Abrazimir the path he wished to take upon reaching adulthood, leaving behind the dusty shelves and moss-grown fields of his decaying home to make the trek to Minas Tirith, where he pledged himself in service to the Steward, working his way up the ranks until a transfer to the elite Swam Knights of Dol Amroth, under the command of Prince Imrahil. He undertook many other adventures during his tenure, such as raids against Umbar or within Ithilien itself.

During the War of the Ring, he accompanied the Prince to the defence of Minas Tirith, where he bravely fought at both the gate house and upon the field of Pelennor, earning distinction, though severely wounded in the aftermath. Present at the coronation of King Elessar, to whom his father Lord Zâinabên had actually served under in his youth while the King utilized His Thorongil persona, Abrazimir considers himself a faithful and loyal knight to the Crown of Gondor, ready to continue defending its border and people against all threats.

Family History: Like many proud houses of Dor-En-Ernil and Gondor as a whole, Dimaethor claimed its roots and foundations to the mythical Second Age of the world, where explorers out of Númenor that is now lost had come upon this ideal patch of land and there built a settlement. This settlement, through immigration and later political refugee seekers, had grown for a time into a flourishing town and agricultural basin, the ground fertile and lush from the various run off streams and rivers that came down from the White Mountains of the north or the hills of Dol Amroth to the east.

Once it had been great and flourishing, with many thousands dwelling at ease and in prosperity there. It served as the market town and center of trade for incoming and outgoing traffic through the Golden Harbour. From the north came iron ores, tin, precious metals, silks and capital. From the west came exquisite furs, wool, cotton, and rich timber for the shipyards upon the Anduin. From the east, dried fruits, ginger, olive oils and aromatics. And from the south that is now cut off came myrrh, frankincense, balsam, saffron, pepper and ivory. Every commodity under the waking sun and sinking moon could have been found there and the Lords of Dimaethor were counted among the richest and prestigious Houses in all of Gondor, their fame stretching upon the north and southern coasts of the Belfalas.

But that was merely a glorious memory of the past.

The period of time, known now as the Treason of Dimaethor, had all but bankrupted the family. Its proud legacy, of boasting direct descent from the original founders from Númenor through father to son, was broken in the Kin-Strife of the seventeenth century and with them went much of its vigor and power. Traitors blood and corrupted they were now deemed, having grown decadent in their wealth and arrogance. To the aid of Castamir the Usurper they had sent much, wealth and levies, but neither returned, either as bounty or in payment. All that came was a decree of punishment, the reduction of their fiefs, the fining of their wealth, the loss of title and rank. Little by little, over the course of a millennia, the passage of power and riches was reversed. Trade went elsewhere as tariffs were risen to pay off the extortionist fine and penalty for their disloyalty. Respect all but dissipated, replaced with mistrust and jeering. Even the very land seemed to turn against them, as streams dried up or were diverted in the growing age of the world. The land became less fertile and families removed elsewhere, forgoing fealty for bounty.

Dimaethor lost everything and all that remained were a few decrypt ruins, relics of their past, which now seemed unobtainable, but never forgotten. The current ruling family, descended through lesser linages, did all they could to survive and strive on. Family jewels and heirlooms were sold. For the first time since their founding, the Lords and Ladies of Dimaethor were reduced to taking up a trade to further supplant their meagre incomes, dwindling more by each passing year. Less commoners were there to work the land, so the Dimaethor folk took up the burden. Their name and home were only considered daunting, for they were a family known to be calculating and ruthless in determination to regain what they had lost.

Many might further think it a fair punishment for their treason, even if it be far back in the annals of history. Many generations worth of reputation was crushed by a single Lord’s decision, in the space of a decade, to support the wrong sovereign.

Only one aspect of Dimaethor remained consistent through the failing of the Line of Kings and the rise of the House of Stewards, for which they were allowed to continue as minor nobles rather than disgraced as dispossessed traitors. To the service of the Prince of Dol Amroth, to whom they ever claimed fealty to, they always sent the required levies and tribute of coin and harvest, placing such a necessity above their own comfort and well-being even. Its warriors were strong and hardened by their destitute backgrounds. No generation had there been since the days of the Usurper where there had not been a Swan Knight risen from its midst. And in accordance with the ancient feudal contract long ago signed, they kept in trust with their league-fellows across the water the maintenance and upkeep of the river fortress.
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Last edited by Lantaelen on Tue Jul 07, 2020 7:28 am, edited 2 times in total.
Berio i refn-en-alph len

Counsellor of Gondor
Points: 1 210 
Posts: 574
Joined: Thu May 14, 2020 8:37 am
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Name : Unalmis Raxëlilta

Age (bracket) : 20 ish


Physical Appearance :
Toting the same dark hair and brown eyes as his father, Unalmis is certainly more like to be found smiling than his stern patriach.
His hair he wears to his shoulders, mostly through the inability to sit still long enough to have it cut.
He wears clothes which are often hand-me-downs or ill-fitted, a product of growing up in a home stretched for coin.
He often bears the tell-tale alibi of bumps, scrapes, or grazes, courtesy of his carefree lifestyle. Spends as much time as he can outdoors and it shows.


Personality :
Unalmis is a rather bold or idiotic soul, depending on your perception.
Despite an infuriating disregard for his own preservation, he is an extremely amiable young man, tending toward unshakeable optimism over common sense.
He can be easily led by those he holds in high regard and learnt the hard way that not everyone ought to be trusted. I am afraid to report that it is a much repeated lesson.
He has a distinct preference for being outdoors and becomes restless during long periods of being closed in.


Experience :
Born to an absent Ranger of Ithilien and an abandoned lonely housewife, Nal grew up largely in the way or at a distance all at once. So frequent were his father’s tours of duty, that the young boy came to believe that all men were simply called ‘Father’. It was what he heard people say to men in the street. His own Father was a stranger. A letter. A promise. A mystery. Before his third birthday though, this strange man returned home from service, suffering from life-altering injuries. Nal’s mother, having found her expectations of married life failed to live up to her wants, struggled to cope alone with a small infant, much less a now very dependent and devastated husband. She promptly fled the family home to start over, leaving an infant Unalmis struggling to understand quite what had happened all around him. His father was in no state to take care of the young boy, or himself, and so Nal’s paternal grandmother made it her business to take over the now fractured household, as good as raising her grandson alone.

For all this turbulent beginning, Unalmis gave little thought enough to fret on it. He simply stayed out of the house as much as he possibly could, more so the older that he grew. He was easily bored by his lessons at school and would get into scrapes which left his clothes torn, lunch parcels left behind him where he could not recall. With a disengaging father who did not counsel or punish him, Unalmis would sneak out of school to play and not return home until after dark or often the next day. This was until his harried grandmother assigned him a playmate, Iole Ishen, daughter of her employer. The girl couldn’t always talk her new friend out of his more wild games but neither could he accomplish the worst case scenarios with her in constant tow. Until he met a boy called Ryndir, a whole year older than him, who Nal considered his hero, and ran about the city wild with a small group of mischievous deviants.

Addhor tended towards heading out on a lap of the pubs and inns most evenings, and as his son grew older and more used to his father figure, Unalmis would curiously follow his father upon these ‘adventures’. He would sit at the bar, swinging his legs, and drink water and eat toast, engaging in humoured conversation from the kindly custodian, while his father accepted drinks from those keen to show their respect to a ‘war veteran’, and hear his bold tales of excitement and adventure. This was the best way he knew to get to know his father.

Ryn enlisted with the Rangers of Ithilien a year before Nal was old enough to join him. So, eager to have adventures of his own, Unalmis dropped out of school all the same, to take up sweeping city streets and picking fruits from Pelennor farms, to aide his family financially. He enjoyed this ‘work’ as it allowed for him to be outside and to get to know people around the market and the farms. However, he was inevitably convinced by a charismatic stranger to head out on an actual adventure. Contrary to what he’d read in exciting books, random teenage boys who set off on adventures do not always end up saving the world. He, for one, was soon in very real risk of being murdered, although thankfully he was brought back home by two Swan Knights and his father. His father who from then on swore to never let the boy out of his sight ! And to make matters worse, Ryndir had died during a patrol in Ithilien while Nal was away.

After his horrific experience, Unalmis was more intent than ever upon striking back at the Enemies of Gondor. Inspired by his father’s choice to take up a new profession in the marketplace, the young man determined to enlist with the Rangers of Ithilien. Only this time, he was going to be ready. For anything. It is fair to say that this new goal, on top of the recent near death experience, had a positive consequence on their previously delicate relationship. So much so that he joked he ought to have gone off ‘adventuring’ years earlier !

Regardless, from that point on, the young man went into the forest with his father and forester associates during coppicing camp-outs, spent time with as many veterans as his retired father could introduce him to, and signed up for training in combat, harassing the army officers who were kind enough to humour him until he could learn all that he could from them. However, by the time he was considered fully trained by officials and signed off to enter service proper, Faramir and his Rangers were already regrouping all available soldiers and drawing back in towards Minas Tirith. Unalmis was sent instead to aide the evacuation of the women, children and infirm of the city, escorting and guarding their vulnerable group in a migration away from the approaching enemy. This was the exact opposite of what he had expected and intended, but the experience was testing in it’s own way and they faced many difficulties during the slow passage, particularly with panicked folk, wayward livestock, the occasion accidental ruin of supplies, and with threats of local men made desperate upon the road.

Returning to the city after the war, he was disheartened to find the grand military disbanded, and in the wake of his grandmother’s death and having to tell Iole that no, in fact, he didn’t love her anywhere near as much as she now believed that she loved him .. it was a welcome day when he received news of the new formed Rangers unit. Despite a tiny delay when he lost the letter detailing exactly where to report, the young man seized upon the opportunity, before they might think better of including him.


Edited - see note at bottom of Addhor's biography. Same family/issue. :wink:
Last edited by Ercassie on Sat Sep 26, 2020 4:38 pm, edited 3 times in total.
From the ashes a fire shall be woken.

Newborn of Imladris
Points: 1 513 
Posts: 1318
Joined: Thu May 14, 2020 10:54 am
Image Ivor

Mid 40s

Metalsmith, gifted in working with steel and precious metals. Brought up in the Aerden's Smithy on the first level.

He was orphaned at the gates while still requiring a wet nurse. No one could explain how he got there, but there were lots of rumours, none of them kind. At best, he's the baseborn son of a noble - though he'd never given that much credence.

Yet the blacksmith's wife took him in, and she was a kindly soul with a sharp tongue for her gossiping neighbours. Her name was Aneawen, and she'd once been a lady-in-waiting to the Steward's Lady wife, so she taught him the finer things, how to read and write, how to ride and eat like a gentleman. She read him stories of heroism and chivalry and wonderful histories until his eyes shone. She loved him, and she indulged him and she encouraged his drawing.

The blacksmith, Aerden, hadn't much use for a squalling infant, so it was lucky that he was a quiet child. As Ivor grew older, he spent hours in the rafters of the smithy, watching the processes silently until one day the big man called the seven-year old down and began to show him the craft. The blistering heat of the forge became his home.

After first mastering horse irons, he moved on to curliques of dark and delicate ironwork, wrought with precision and skill for beautiful gates, candelabras and elaborate archways. But it didn't fulfil the artist locked deep within, and he reluctantly left his family's smithy and went to work for The Goose and the Fountain upon the third level. There he began his apprenticeship, forging steel by day, and searching the library by night until he found the tomes of the old wrights, poring over their spiderscratch that he might have the mastery over creating weapons in the style of the Men of the West. He couldn't call himself a master on that level - some of their swordsmiths had only achieved that status after a hundred years of apprenticeship - but he had thirty years under his belt, and people were impressed with his work enough to recommend him to their fellows.

In between these studies and his actual work, he created jewellery. Mostly in sketches, it has to be said, but he began with silver, for a little silver was all he could afford, until his pieces began to sell - now some commissions that come in ask for gold, and he has begun, little-by-little, to put a little aside for himself.

Most recently, he has been experimenting with coloured glass to create enamelled pieces for display.

Forester of Lothlorien
Points: 220 
Posts: 111
Joined: Fri Jun 19, 2020 4:24 am
Name: Lalaith (Link to image.)

Age: 29

Physical appearance: She has a slender, confident bearing and a fair countenance. Her thick, black hair often lies in a braid over a shoulder. Her grey eyes are warm and alive with curiosity and laughter. She is very expressive with her hands when she speaks.

Personality: She has a natural curiosity. Thus, everything around her excites her and she always finds something to marvel at. Her years of managing farmlands and tenants on her own have given her an air of independence but not a sense of entitlement. She is always willing to lend a ear and a helping hand, but is rather practical and down-to-earth in her dealings.

Biography: Lalaith grew up on a farm in Lebennin. She passed for the adopted daughter of a farmer and his wife. In truth they had once been servants in her own father's household -- one the butler and the other her own nanny. But a raid upon the house had led to a blood bath and Iris (alias) had had the presence of mind to grab hold of the little, sleeping girl and run. Rembar (alias) helped them escape. For days they had fled on foot until, in complete disarray they had found themselves in Lebennin. It was there they began their new lives. Iris and Rembar got married and adopted little Lalaith for their own.

They took up farming and worked hard to provide the best they could for their master's daughter. As she grew older, they sought out a learned man they had heard tell of and asked if he could 'learn their little Lala'. Thus, Lalaith learnt to read and write. But her journey into bookish learning came to an abrupt end when the old man died. As she grew older and into her looks, she caught the eye of the local squire's son and married him. But the land was often troubled by the Corsairs and her husband chose to help defend their home. That did not go very well for him, and Lalaith found herself widowed at the tender age of two and twenty. She ploughed on, tending to the land and home of her husband, and took to caring for the tenants. After the War of the Rings, things began to look up and the land began to prosper. Feeling then that she had set things on their feet, her foster parents encouraged Lalaith to begin doing what she had always wanted to do before she got married, to travel to the city of Minas Tirith and learn.

And there she is now, in that great white city, on the path to learning!
Last edited by Nen on Sat Jun 20, 2020 5:14 pm, edited 1 time in total.

Forester of Lothlorien
Points: 220 
Posts: 111
Joined: Fri Jun 19, 2020 4:24 am
Name: Hirluin (Link to Image.)

Age: 35

Physical appearance: He is tall with a lanky but well-muscled frame. He has piercing blue eyes. He wears his dark, straight hair short.

Personality: He is an introvert, and has a strong tendency to brood when he has no idea what to do about a problem. Fortunately, this is not a common occurrence or else he'd be seeking to drown his self-perceived incompetency in drink. He likes order and discipline when he is sober and in charge of himself and others.

Biography: Hirluin is of the noble houses of Gondor. His father, Ârion, was a Dunedain. His mother, Lanneth, is of mixed Éothéodean and Dunedain stock. Ârion died in a fire accident. Strangely enough, it was his long hair that caught fire when he insisted on fashioning his oldest son's sword to gift him on his entering the ranks of the Rangers. He was severely burnt and in a coma for days before he passed away. Since then Hirluin has kept his hair short. His father never finished making the sword, but he treasures the unfinished sword, and it has its pride of place in the main hall of his home. Lanneth spends her time one weaving tapestry - something she loves doing. She also keeps herself busy making a home for her three children. Even at the age of thirty-five, Lanneth believe Hirluin needs to be babied no matter that he is the head of the household. It exasperates him. But he loves her dearly, and has a great fondness for his sister, Tiril, and brother, Mírion, who are several years younger than he is.

Craftsman of Gondor
Points: 118 
Posts: 32
Joined: Wed Jun 24, 2020 9:53 pm
(Version 0.1, wanted to get something down for the Ranger RPG, but this is all subject to change as I figure things out or otherwise need to tweak it. :P)
Azdiur
Age: Earlyish 30s

Physical appearance:
Moderate build, has a noticeable hunch and a hint of limp and the sense that he'd feel tall without them.
Brown hair and beard kept at moderate length and always at least a little rough.
Callused hands, with scars from old burns extending up his forearms.

Personality:

Fairly subdued in most things. Strong attention to detail and sense of pride in his work, which tends toward perfectionism. Values order and discipline in those he interacts with, especially those under his authority. His strong build from years of hard labor is borne with a sense of control; he can carve fine inscriptions into a stone just as easily as he can swing a hammer to smash it.
Has a deep laugh that doesn’t come easily, but is given freely once he feels at home. Loves simple yet clever humor, and is easily put off by needlessly complex or ostentatious. No patience with those who build their own reputation at the expense of those too good-natured to stand up for themselves.


Biography:

Azdiur’s ancestors lived in Southern Ithilien for generations, and continue to maintain strong ties to it. Among the last of the refugees driven out, they settled in a small community on the shores of the Anduin, keeping close watch on the land they knew they’d return…someday. Nearly all families sent at least one son to join the Rangers, and Azdiur’s was no exception. His elder brother, Hadiur, trained for years with the town militia, before ultimately setting out to serve his duty to their ancestral home. He didn’t last a year, dying to an enemy arrow shot wide that found him purely by bad luck.

While Hadiur trained to represent his family in the Rangers, Azdiur was prepared to take his father’s place in the family smithy. As a child he’d always resented that his place as second son meant his lot was not glory on the battlefield but instead a life of mundane tasks for a small village pining for a future rather than bringing it to pass. Often he’d skip his daily lessons to watch the militia drill, practicing what he could and dreaming of the day he might have a chance to join them on the field. Inevitably, he’d be punished for his escapades, and he became quite familiar with the most monotonous of tasks that he was given as punishment, constantly being lectured by his father about proving that he could be relied upon for these humble tasks before he could be trusted with the more prestigious ones.

When the sad news about Hadiur made its way to the village, Azdiur’s father knew he would not be content to remain a humble smith, so he released him from his responsibilities in the smithy and prepared to find a local apprentice to begin training a replacement. In that moment, Azdiur saw not the gruff disciplinarian he’d thought he knew, but an aged father who cared deeply for his wishes and, even in the midst of grieving the loss of one son and dreading the possible loss of another, still cared enough to leave such a decision to his son.

Azdiur surprised everyone, himself included, by turning down the offer and remaining home to complete his training. Allowing his whole focus to be devoted to the task, he learned quickly. The years spent doing the most trivial tasks had given him tremendous patience, and under his father’s discerning eye he learned to recognize the tiniest signs of imperfection in any work, whether his own or others. He dedicated himself to learning all that his father had to teach, and he soon grew to be a competent and respected smith in his own right.

The War of the Ring brought ample opportunity to practice his craft. While he immediately joined the local militia, most of his efforts went to helping outfit them and shoring up defenses in the nearby communities. Following the victory in the War, Azdiur saw the opportunity to take his talents to places that needed them even more, and hopefully one day to bring them into Ithilien itself. He passed his hammer and forge down to his own apprentice and set out to see what opportunities might await.

Kinsman of Gondor
Points: 64 
Posts: 7
Joined: Thu Jul 23, 2020 8:26 pm
Name: Pellaadarion

Age (bracket): Appears to be in his mid forties.

Physical appearance: Tall, rangy, woodsman, with greying auburn hair and a thick beard. Usually dressed in woodland hues, clad in patch-work leather armour and wrapped in a grey woolen cloak.

Personality: A laconic, gregarious sort who enjoys simple speech and the odd pun. If you buy him an ale or two he can often be coaxed into sharing all manner of old war stories. Enjoys a tall tale and has been known to boast that he used to lead the rangers of Gondor into battle and was on a first name basis with King Aragorn Elessar.

Biography: The son of a simple farmer who grew to adulthood tending crops and cattle on a small piece of land in the outer reaches of the Pelennor Fields. The War of the Ring brought death to his doorstep, and the loss of his parents to a raiding party of Mordorian orcs sent him into the welcoming arms of the Tirith Company of the white city, where he helped hold the line against Sauron's forces where he fought in the shadow of much greater heroes.

Relative peace reigned under the watchful eye of the newly crowned King Aragorn Elessar, and Pellaadarion enlisted with the rangers, awed by their sacrifices during the battles for Osgilliath. Trained as an archer, he worked his way through the ranks, becoming an officer. Gondor was good to him for many years, and he wore many hats, blacksmith, marketplace mayor, major, commander and even owner and operator of a small alehouse in the first circle.

But as time passed something changed. Call it a sour note in the air, the smell of death that accompanies a dying animal as it crawls into a cave to die. Driven to melancholy, the seasoned soldier cut all ties to his home and struck out on the road, selling his sword in far flung lands as he battled corsairs as a caravan guard in the southern deserts, chased rustlers in the borders of Rohan, tossed axes with the dwarves of the hills, and cut a trail to the ruins of Angmar as a pathfinder in the north.

But life is a circle, and in time he was drawn home, back to the white walls of his youth...
Last edited by Pellaadarion on Mon Jul 27, 2020 8:02 pm, edited 1 time in total.

Loremaster of Gondor
Points: 345 
Posts: 235
Joined: Thu May 14, 2020 2:40 am
Name: Lonahen of Calembel
Age: 17, born on the 14th of Narquelië, T.A. 3008.
Home: Lonahen is from the small town of Calembel, in the region of Lamedon. He was born and grew up in a small home on one of the outer streets of the town, though he is in the process of selling his home to move to Minas Tirith.
Personality: Lonahen is a kind and generous young man. His parents were not well to do by Gondorian standards during his childhood, but they were never unhappy or starved. They were often helped by other citizens of Calembel as his mother was a midwife who delivered most of the babies in the town, and his father was a guardsman who made time to speak to everyone while on his watches. As such they raised him to be friendly and trusting, and even after their deaths (his father at the Battle of the Pelennor Fields, his mother two years prior from a sickness of the heart) he has continued to exemplify the lessons they taught. Since being on his own and inheriting his parent's home at 15, he has tried to follow in their lead and be giving with his time and words around Calembel. But his desire to do good and help has begun to lead his heart away from his hometown, and upon hearing of the re-construction of Osgiliath, he made up his mind to set out to help his countrymen rebuild their ancient city.
Appearance: Lonahen is a sturdy and stocky young man. He is not very tall, standing 5'8, but weighs nearly two hundred pounds. Years of working in the construction trade have left him with a strong body, though he is not very agile. His hair is a deep, chestnut brown and cut fairly short for the Men of Gondor, around seven or eight inches long, just enough to tie into a short ponytail when working. His eyes are very bright, a light, ice-like blue, but have heavy bags from a general lack of sleep. He keeps a short, stubbly beard and trims it as often as he can. On his right hand, he is missing the tips of his ring and middle finger, which were lost in an accident when he was 14. He has since learned to use his left hand as his dominant side.
Weapon: Lonahen is not a warrior, and as such possesses no martial weapons. He does however carry with the tools of his trade (construction) and is skilled in their use, and if needed could use them to defend himself, albeit poorly. The tools he has are a hatchet; small knife; dagger; double-sided ax; hammer; maul; and a chisel.
Literacy: Lonahen is illiterate.
Last edited by Ta'leus Shieldsong on Thu Jan 21, 2021 10:00 am, edited 1 time in total.

Scholar of Gondor
Points: 159 
Posts: 20
Joined: Fri Aug 07, 2020 12:04 pm
Udan (AKA: Udan Caradan)

Age (bracket): Late 30’s. Udan does not mark the passing of years, only the passing of friends.

Physical appearance:


Long dark hair that hangs to his shoulders. It is rarely tied except on more – formal occasions.
Piercing blue eyes
Tanned, rugged and scarred facial complexion and features, always with a five O’clock shadow.
Tall, at around 6 foot 6.
Extremely broad shoulders, and well-muscled arms and legs. (Gained from swinging the large two bearded battle axe he constantly carries.)

Personality:

Belying his physical appearance, Udan is an incredibly quiet individual when you first meet him. Although engage him in conversation over an ale or three, and you will soon meet his more gregarious side. Get to know him very well and he will open and reveal himself as a warm, caring individual.

Biography:
Udan was born in the north near Bree, in a small village of woodsman and hunters. He was the younger of two boys, his brother leaving home when he was of age to find his fortune in the south, after rumours of war and heroism reached the village, no word has been heard from him since. After reaching maturity, Udan bid his aging parents and his friends in the village farewell, determined to travel south in search of his estranged brother. A quest which he has never been able to fulfill. After reaching the Southern Kingdom, Udan quickly enlisted in the Elite Ranger Corps (ERC), trained hard and quickly climbed through the ranks becoming Barracks master and then commissioning as Captain of the Pelecconner – The Axemen of Gondor.

Udan quickly found a deep friendship and companionship in one person, they soon married and lived a short and turbulent time, before they were forcibly separated. Udan has spent the past couple of years in search of answers, where had his brother gone? What had happened to his friend? All of which to this day, remain unanswered. Returning to civilization, his heart has been lifted by the knowledge that he could still be of some use to his adopted city, he has quickly accepted the invitation to serve once again and join the Rangers of Gondor.

Winddancer
Winddancer
Points: 1 880 
Posts: 2272
Joined: Thu May 14, 2020 11:22 am
Image Image

Liriel and Eradan

Age: 32 and 33

Liriel:
Physical appearance: Long blonde hair and at the moment heavily pregnant (Unknowingly with twins)

Personality: Boisterous and happy. Very talkative and often talks louder than others. Quite carefree. Adores her husband and her children.

Biography: Mother of 5 boys. Gellir is the oldest at 12, Borlas is 10, Targon is 7, Lúcon is 4, Erland is 1½.
Married to her husband at 19, she quickly became the "mouth" of the grocer shop. She would sell the wares and he would grow them in the fields that his family have owned for generations. He spends most of his day out in the fields, sometimes spending the night if he has worked late. He often brings Borlas and Targon with him, both loving the outdoors work over the cramped market place store. Gellir is a shy and bookish kid who loves to read and loves numbers, teaching himself to do the books for the store, of which he is now solely in charge and immensely proud of. Dotes on his mother and worries about her working when she is pregnant. Lúcon is the cheeky brat of the family, but in a charming kind of way, which is what gets him out of the massive amount of trouble he always gets in to. Erland is the baby of the family, for now, chubby and happy. All boys have curly hair after their father and blonde hair after their mother. The father is a light brown.

Child of Gondor
Points: 54 
Posts: 2
Joined: Sun Nov 01, 2020 9:15 am
TYRA

Age: 21

Physical appearance:
-Long brown hair, usually tied back in a braid that is secured at the bottom by a piece of dark twine.
-Brown eyes, gentle-looking but can at times appear distant
-Slim build, perhaps a little more so than many in the city who might have had the advantage of regular, substantial meals, but she does not appear too unhealthy. At 5’8 she holds her frame well and stands quite proudly by nature.
-Her face bears no scars or marks that might give away any clues as to her past, but many a day in the fields working for her family see a healthy colour about her cheeks, a glow perhaps?

Personality:
Tyra is a gentle person, although given the trials and tribulations she has endured in her few short years one could easily be forgiven for expecting otherwise. She is of a quiet yet determined nature, and whilst there is indeed a fire in her belly, she will never willingly allow it to be stoked, neither by anger nor by fear. She is a quiet person, preferring first to watch and to learn of a situation before entering into the realms of interaction. A thinker some might say, although she has been known to come out of her shell a little, especially if in the company of her brother Avarion and a few strong ales.
She considers herself to be honest but will tactfully steer away from a topic or conversation if she is not comfortable with its content, preferring the change to speaking out and risking upset to those around her. Putting others first has always been her way, but she is fast learning that in doing so, she can also do ill unto herself.

Biography:
Tyra grew up on a farmstead close to the borders of Ithilien. The third of of five born to Darien and Loweniel, she has always felt she had to fight for her place and prove her worth due to her somewhat quiet and withdrawn nature. It was far from the worst upbringing, but it was certainly fraught with drama and excitement in some form or another.
The farmstead did well for many years, the vegetables proving popular at local markets and her parents more than happy with their beautiful, albeit quarrelsome family. That was of course until Darien became ill. He began to get confused, forgetful, leaving the tools in the Northern field or forgetting the names of his own vegetables. At first they thought he was just being silly, one of his ‘games’ but over time he became angry with it. Frustrated, confused and then violent.
That was when Avarion left.

Tyra was three years his junior but she had always worshipped the ground her brother walked on. He had been the one to teach her how to hunt the rabbits that would invade the crops. How to climb trees and how to dodge a sneaky swipe from her older sister Cassy. The day he left, her whole world crumbled and she found herself taking on new challenges that she had no idea how to handle at such a young age.

She had written to Avarion as often as she could, when she knew he would be in one place for long enough, often begging for his return and hoping she would one day find out why he left in such a hurry.
Darien now sleeps, and Loweniel is fast following his path, leaving Tyra, Cassy and Milus to harvest the crops, run the farm, market the crop and keep a drunken Serby in check whilst all the time watching their mothers heart slowly break.

Tired, exhausted and at a loss for how best to mend her family, Tyra packed a bag and left for the city of minas Tirith, the last known place her brother had been for any period of time.
His letters had been sparce of late, but she could only hope.

Loremaster of Gondor
Points: 281 
Posts: 30
Joined: Tue Dec 08, 2020 3:53 pm
Dunulf

Age (bracket):
23

Physical appearance:
Very tall, approximately 6'5; tanned skin with faint freckles that appear in direct sunlight; dark brown hair with thick eyebrows and no facial hair; angular face; muscular in a wiry way from working as a farmhand near the Eastern border of the Eastfold; ice-blue eyes flecked with grey.

Personality:
A quiet lad who keeps to himself, he is slow to share his past and relatively quick to anger. He is fiercely loyal and honest to a fault, and takes deep pride in his hard work.

Biography:
Born to a Gondorian man and a Rohirric woman, Dunulf was gifted with height from a young age, and stood tall among his peers - peers who resented him for it and frequently reminded him of that fact, name-calling him for much of his childhood. A winter ago, Dunulf's parents were murdered in a theft-gone-wrong - he heard the screams and ran back from the field to his farmhouse, where he was greeted by the sight of his mother's body and his father's near-dead stare. With his dying breaths, his father bade him to turn his eyes and path to Gondor, to take the position he himself never quite achieved ... to become a Ranger. Originally reluctant, the young farmhand became more and more dissatisfied with his life of solitude and thanklessness tilling fields. Thus he packed, left his home in the experienced hands of his neighbours, and set off for the Guarded CIty of Minas Tirith.

Counsellor of Gondor
Points: 1 210 
Posts: 574
Joined: Thu May 14, 2020 8:37 am
Since he is cropping up in rather a lot of my posts IC around Gondor these days, here is a bio for Narradir

Image

Name (s): Narradir Korsey

Age (bracket) : Early 40’s


Physical appearance:
‘Built like a mountain’ tends to be the usual description of the burly forester. He has dark hair which is kept ‘short enough’ and tends toward a beard because his daughters love the way it tickles when he kisses them. Narradir has a twice broken nose, from being punched and then falling out of a window in a later effort to evade the one who did the punching previously. He has brown eyes.


Personality:
Narradir is approachable, amiable and very easily amused. He lives for his family and his friends, and generally enjoys a good time. As a child, he was the instigator of shenanigans amongst his peer group and continues to be considered responsible if ever an idea turns out to have been less than wise. He is however honest and open, and if he hurts your feelings then you certainly deserved it, that or he didn’t mean to.


Biography:
Narradir is the only son of a banker and a housewife, raised in Minas Tirith. As an only child, he was keen to make friends and would tend to talk to anyone who would put up with him. At school he was a stirring force amongst a group of four friends who were close since starting to read, all the way up until they joined the Rangers of Ithilien together. The only other surviving member of that group will tell you that it was Narradir’s idea to go drinking and lead the flirtation with a group of pretty girls, fresh arrived in the city from Pelargir. It may also be implied that all four of those young men were each married to one of those same girls by the end of an alcohol-fuelled weekend due to Narradir's own prompting/peer pressure.

Narradir is still happily married to his wife, Serenda, since that very day. His three friends were not quite so lucky, though given the circumstances, the odds were against them. At the first Narradir may have seemed to be the unlucky member of the group of friends however. Since he returned from duty in Ithilien on one occasion to find his wife and both their small daughters very sick. Having spent the entirety of his leave thus taking care of the three of them, he caught the illness himself and was over a week late in returning to his post. Though all of the family survived this inconvenient illness, the then Steward, Denethor II did not take lightly to the fact of a Ranger apparently forsaking his responsibilities to his country. When Narradir argued that he had been infectious and taking care of his responsibilities regardless, he was told that he ought to have sent word, or written his superiors. Too ashamed to admit that he struggled with writing, Narradir had no excuse to offer, and was sentenced to a period of imprisonment within the city, as an example; the nation’s very survival being reliant on those who had promised by enlisting that they would uphold their military duty, above all else.

The harsh outcome turned out to have been a saving grace, as the mission that he was thus spared from participating went afoul, ambushed by Orcs. Two of his friends were amongst those killed, and the third, who had escaped with his life, was one of two who return to the city with life changing injuries necessitating the end of their careers. Narradir on the other hand, came out of his jail time with a further two daughters, thanks to conjugal visits with his wife, and then promptly conceived a fifth daughter shortly after his release. In the wake of his now marred military career, he did not seek re-enlistment to the Rangers and turned his love for the neighbouring forest fiefdom into a forestry vocation. He was duly able to spend more time with his family, without the threat of repercussions, and he far preferred the freedom of not being privy to anybody else’s orders. Except for his wife, and daughters.

Having encouraged his surviving friend to study a carpentry apprenticeship, the two men eventually went into business together, combining their skills to provide a service to the city and a means of providing for their families. Narradir has concerns in this area in particular, as his five daughters are already come to adulthood and yet not a one of them to marriage. His efforts to see them as happily settled as he is have led to jokes that he ought take them to a pub when young rangers are on their first leave from duty, and let history repeat itself. But perhaps a little older and even more perhaps even maybe only wiser now, he has managed to present as a large enough deterrent to any young man who has ever considered wedding one of the girls. For all this, Narradir is a fairly satisfied civilian, whose business did extremely well in the years following the war where there was a great demand for re-structuring, on all levels. The gamble that was taken on a fledgling business partnership has paid off, and he and Serenda remain very happy in the Fourth Age.
From the ashes a fire shall be woken.

Elwing
Elwing
Points: 2 050 
Posts: 1375
Joined: Sat May 23, 2020 11:34 pm
Hathaldir / Renhir

(Source)

He was born Renhir but presents himself in Gondor under the alias Hathaldir (for now)

Age (bracket): appears in his upper 30s-40s
Pronouns: he/him
Occupation: currently Tower Guard, former Ranger of the North

Physical appearance:
Tall and lean with medium-length brown hair and dark brown eyes, an angular face with a strong jawline thick with a beard until his recent arrival in Minas Tirith where he also traded in his axe for a sword. His forehead seems to be marked with a permanent furrow. He prefers to wear earth tones and dark colors to avoid drawing attention to himself.

Personality:
He has become jaded and cynical and may come across to others as a bit gruff and emotionally detached. He likes to be in control, can be short-tempered and quick to anger and does not like most people very much, preferring to keep to himself. However, those rare few who do manage to get into his inner circle and gain his respect will retain his loyalty for life.

Biography:
One who met him now might be surprised to learn that before and during the War of the Ring, he was a Ranger of the North. He was raised in a suite of ever changing settlements in Arnor and became a Ranger after his father’s death. With her son a grown man and Ranger, his mother left behind the insecurity of northern life and resettled in Gondor. There, she remarried and had another son, Tandarion Thindlorn. Being a Ranger afforded Renhir little time to visit them but he met his half-brother on a handful of occasions. Tandarion wrote to his older brother often as he grew up and became a scholar in Minas Tirith, though Renhir’s replies were sometimes scarce and infrequent.

Though the wilderness suited him, those years eventually disillusioned him as it was a thankless task which saw him treated with suspicion by the very people he sought to protect. After the War ended, he was glad to relinquish his role with the Rangers. Peace did not last long for him. After he learned of their mother’s death, he decided to travel to Gondor. By the time he arrived, Tandarion was also dead. The death had been ruled a suicide but he stubbornly refused to believe it. This led to a change in the nature of his visit to Minas Tirith and he opted to find the truth and bring the guilty party to justice. In order to obtain inside information, he signed up to the Tower Guard as a means to an end, ultimately seeking vengeance for his brother’s murder and recruiting Falaneth to help.

Elwing
Elwing
Points: 2 050 
Posts: 1375
Joined: Sat May 23, 2020 11:34 pm
Falaneth


Age: 20-25
Pronouns: she/her
Occupation: library clerk

Physical appearance:
Petite and slender with a youthful face, she looks younger than she really is at first glance. If one is observant and looks carefully at her blue eyes, they might find a distinct lack of innocence and stark sadness indicative of her true age. Her dark hair is often worn coiled in a practical knot and she prefers to wear somber, muted colors.

Personality:
She is typically reserved and quiet, often subdued, and does not openly share her feelings with many. Though not unkind, she prefers the company of books to people and values organization and order. She has deep curiosity and a love for learning and may often be found with her nose buried in a book paying little attention to her surroundings.

Biography:
Born in Linhir, Falaneth has no memory of the place having lived most of her life in Minas Tirith. Her mother brought Falaneth there when she was a baby, hoping for a better life for her in the city. Her mother encouraged her to study at The College of the Spoken Word and worked hard to support her to do so. When the War began, Falaneth put her studies on hold and took a job at the library as a clerk. She has not resumed her studies since and after the War ended, her mother moved to Dol Amroth, hoping to escape the war-torn city, assured her daughter would be fine on her own with a steady job.

It was in the library that Falaneth first met a young scholar named Tandarion. They became fast friends, sharing a love of learning, and later, a love for each other. When he asked for her hand in marriage, she declined, afraid they were too young and too scared from the War to rush into such a big, permanent decision.

Not long after, Tandarion was found dead at his home. The investigation into the death of a healthy young man concluded he had taken his own life because of a broken heart. Falaneth never believed this was true, and though she tried to argue, she lacked the means and evidence to refute the decision and eventually gave up. She still works at the library and has grown more quiet and isolated than ever, often spending time wondering and reading about what happens after death as she tries to reconcile her grief.

Elder of The Mark
Points: 3 007 
Posts: 1638
Joined: Sat Sep 12, 2020 7:53 am

Image:Owen.oj (Tiktok)
Captain Ruindil
Age: 35ish(as of 5 FA)

Physical appearance: Tall and solidly built with green eyes and red long curly hair and a long beard.

Personality: Jovial in general but will take charge in a heartbeat if his family or his crew are in danger.

Biography: Having been born to a less than notable family, with a less than stellar name, and few prospects for work he put to see as a young child, originally as a cabin boy with the Dol Amroth Navy. He loved the sea but not the strict rules of the Navy, nor its pay when the Captain of the Navy ships were living and eating well most of the crew was tightening their belts, this didn't sit well and he turned to a life of piracy and soon found himself climbing the ranks of the ship he was on until eventually he was voted Captain of his own vessel the Solonyello. His primary targets are Umbarian traders enjoying stealing their drinks to sell to inhabitants of Forochel. On one journey he had his at the time first mate put into the Grey Havens with a storm coming (since they had no qualms with the elves) and ended up meeting Fuin Elda and Afarfin and taking the two of them on the rest of their journey to the north before returning them back to the havens. From there Fuin Elda and Mylien formed a partnership that Ruindil and Afarfin were quickly pulled into that was far more lucrative than piracy though Fuin gave them every permission to harass Mole ships.

Elder of The Mark
Points: 3 007 
Posts: 1638
Joined: Sat Sep 12, 2020 7:53 am

Image: Fuin Elda
Mylien Silant
Age (bracket):32

Physical appearance: Short for a Gondorian, but is partially Umbarian at 5 foot 4, with brown hair that is wavy, she has hazel eyes and tanned skin from being in the sun on a ship most of the time.

Personality: Sharp witted and not one to suffer a fool easily or for long. She is loyal but can be ruthless.

Biography: As a child Mylien was raised by her parents until the death of her mother at 3, at which point her father spiraled into grief, but did his best to try to provide for his child and ended up being lost at sea during a storm. She was taken to an orphanage where she was not treated well and soon she became a street urchin and a ship rat stealing food from ships before they went to sea. She eventually ended up trapped on a Navy Ship with the Commander Vacryn(Later named Admiral) of the Dol Amroth fleet and was found and flogged for being a stowaway. The ship foundered on a previously unmapped coral and she was left on it when they abandoned ship.

She was found by Captain Surindil and his crew of pirates that included a young Eliad Belegaur and soon became a constant member of their crew until Eliad became Captain and she became First Mate...

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