Minions of Mordor (Character Biographies)

"Going to Mordor!" Cried Pippin. "I hope it won’t come to that!"
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New Soul
Points: 799 
Posts: 762
Joined: Thu May 14, 2020 11:26 am
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Welcome to Mordor, home to the devious, the cunning, the strong, the fast, the unscrupulous, the intriguing, the waylaid, the captured, the dead, the undead, the downright nasty ... and also, of course, to you. What do you want others to know about you? There's one distinct advantage here - you get to write it yourself, so you may leave out certain unsavoury details ... or brag about them, if that's more your style.

This thread is where you can post biographies of your characters, and read about other people's characters. You may return to edit or update your post at any time, and you may post as many characters as you please. This is a thread for character biographies only, so please no commentary/roleplaying.

Optional template: (you may use this or create your own)

Name:
Age:
Race:
Home:
Personality:
Weapons:
History:

Last edited by Almarëa Mordollwen on Tue Jun 09, 2020 2:10 am, edited 1 time in total.
She/her. Almarëa - Rivendell / Jaena - Lone Lands (T.A.) and Gondor (F.A.) / Layna - Mordor

Thain of The Mark
Points: 964 
Posts: 470
Joined: Tue May 19, 2020 12:12 am
Name: Thalionwen

Age: 26

Race: Human

Home: The Eastfold, Rohan/Udun (it's complicated)

Personality: Significantly more cheerful and optimistic than is a Minion's wont, albeit with a ruthless side

Weapons: Sowing chaos, convincing others to fight her battles for her, a gutting knife, a needle, or sedative herbs if necessary

History: Thalionwen had an uneventful childhood on a small farm in the foothills of the White Mountains. As a young woman, she enlisted in Rohan's Cavalry, serving as a Sperewigned and then training as a haelend (healer). However, not long after the War began, she left the Cavalry, disillusioned by the fighting and by the Cavalry itself as an institution. Returning home, Thali married not long after, and soon had twin daughters. However, when the twins were only two, their father passed away from a lung sickness, leaving Thali to raise the children and run a failing farm in the Eastfold on her own. Before her first husband was cold in his grave, she happened upon Orco del Oro, a less than scrupulous "businessorc" from Mordor. Against all odds, romance blossomed between them and they swore their vows to one another, not two months after Thalionwen's first husband's death.

For a brief time, Orco masqueraded as a victim of "flesh-rotting disease," donning extensive coverings in order to move about in Rohan, but was forced to flee after a horse-theft went sideways. Left alone yet again, Thalionwen decided to change her fate. She tracked Orco down to Mordor, where his disappearance was explained and they reconciled. There, she found employment as a haelend/body seller at the Slaughter House and Black Market, and she now splits her time between Rohan and Mordor. She is a generally open and forgiving individual, especially for a resident of Mordor, but do not question her mostly-flawed judgment, and do not make eyes at her orc husband. Commit either of those sins, and even if it takes a lifetime, she'll see you regret it.
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Bealdorhaelend
Proud member of the Eastmark
Lead Healer, Edoras Infirmary
Shopkeeper, Cwep Ciese

Melkor
Melkor
Points: 1 552 
Posts: 1036
Joined: Thu May 14, 2020 2:40 am
Name: "Leeva del Oro. What are you doing here in my house? Why are you trying to badger an old orc? I've seen enough hardship in my years, to have my saint of a husband leave before me, and to have my son. My own son. To marry a Horse Woman? Oh, Dark Lord, please take me now."

Age: "I'm old enough to be your mother, and you would probably make a better child than my son."

Race: "You're not old enough to require new eyeballs for your declining eyes. What do you think I am? An elf. I might as well be one of those dirty, disgusting, vile creatures, to have a son marry a Horse Woman. Oh, Dark Lord, please take me now."

Home: "Where do you think you're stepping foot in, asking all these questions? What have I done to earn this inquisition? I serve the Dark Lord faithfully. You know exactly where my home is."

Personality: "I'm not interested in another husband, or another daughter. *waves hand in dismissal*"

Weapons: "When I was young, I used a cleaver and a knife fairly well. Orco was such a big boy, he needed to eat a lot of my food. If I had known what he would become, I would have killed him with my cleaver myself. Oh, Dark Lord, forgive my son!"

History: "That's... I don't want to talk about this anymore. It makes me... it makes me think of my poor dead husband. He was a saint! And to think what he would see of his son now. Oh I cannot bear it. My history, I hope it will end soon. Now get out of my house, my blackened chicken is ready for me to eat... Alone."

Captain of Tower
Points: 945 
Posts: 420
Joined: Sun Jun 07, 2020 10:16 pm
Name: Druzath of Gorgorth.

Age: 19.

Race: Uruk-Hai of Mordor.

Home: Any pit or den in Gorgorth will do.

Personality: Foul-mouth, crass, possesses a morbid, self-depreciating form of humour. Despite originally being bred for combat and war, Druzath has found he has an affinity for creation rather than destruction. Is extremely defensive against any critique of his creations as well.

Weapons: Teeth (the ones he has left). Fists. Spiked maul.

History: Druzath was spawned in the pits of Gorgorth within sight of Lugburz, with countless others of his generation, bred to fight and participate in the millennia-long war against the filthy tarks across the water. He was a fast learner, quickly learning to overcome his brothers and sisters through guile and scheming in the competitive matches that the trainers often set the younger breeds in, rather than outright brute force. For many years he was conditioned to be nothing more than another soldier in the endless ranks of the Great Eye, but as he grew to adulthood he quickly distinguished himself as having a mind above those of the ordinary rabble, capable of intelligent speech, higher learning functionalities, and overall not being a mindless drone. He could read and write the Black Speech of Mordor, did not always resort to mindless violence to settle his disputes, and was instrumental in a Mordorin war gaming session between classes of Uruks by helping to maintain morale and logistics among his comrades. This caused his superiors to assign him out of the class of fodder for the arrows of the tarks and placed to other duties where he could truly apply himself.

Druzath of course never expected he would be assigned to the new role he was given, being the furthest thing from battle, yet truly the opportunity to apply his…culinary abilities.
Berio i refn-en-alph len

New Soul
Points: 799 
Posts: 762
Joined: Thu May 14, 2020 11:26 am
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Name: Layna
Age: Early thirties
Race: Her mother was a Black Numenorean; her father was a Variag of Khand
Home: Mordor, evidently
Personality: Thoughtful, meticulous, ruthless, perceptive, charming when need be
Weapons: Daggers, poison, trickery, and deceit.
History: She joined the Dark Lord's payroll young, and takes pride in her ... unique skillset. After initial training with the Black Host, she specialized as one of the Vras, a skilled and deadly assassin, who designs and creates many of her own poisons. One of her first assignments was to wipe out an entire tribe whose leaders were not true to Sauron.
She/her. Almarëa - Rivendell / Jaena - Lone Lands (T.A.) and Gondor (F.A.) / Layna - Mordor

Elven Enchanter
Points: 2 265 
Posts: 1451
Joined: Thu May 14, 2020 2:15 am
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Name: Zarâm
Age: Do orcs have ages?
Race: Orc, obviously, though perhaps a bit on the taller side for the average orc
Home: Morder, duh
Personality: Foul-mouthed, loves to drink, enjoys setting things on fire, is a thief, sneaky
Weapons: Daggers, teeth, whatever random item she can get her hands on
History: Zarâm has lived her entire life (however long it has been) in the near vicinity of Mt Doom. She has been involved in many of Sauron's wars. Unusual for an orc, she is willing to leave the Shadow Lands and explore/infiltrate other places in Middle Earth, though she hates being in green places. She currently runs a stall in the Black Market where various items, of both the legal and illegal items are available for purchase.
Last edited by Dimcairien Luiniel on Tue Jul 21, 2020 2:59 am, edited 3 times in total.
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Artanis / Éomund / Brandor / Zarâm

Black Númenórean
Points: 2 528 
Posts: 1866
Joined: Thu May 14, 2020 3:21 am
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(by tattereddreams on deviantart)

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Írimë

The owner and Pub Mistress of On the Rocks. A Southron woman of surpassing lush beauty, not too tall and not too small, who typically dresses in a tight leather corset with many layered and ruffled skirts below, properly accessorized with bangles and beads. She has a long wealth of dark chesnut hair over which she is very vain, and spends inordinate amounts of time fussing with in the morning, before her daily manicure. Írimë is extremely fastidious about the general cleanliness of her pub, despite the predisposition of its location to mess and ruin, but continues to fight what she is determined to make a winning battle against ash and spiders. She will flirt with anything that moves and strikes her fancy, or/and shows an opportunity for profit, a classic tactic of innkeepers everywhere. The whip at her hip serves to enforce the arbitrary rules of her domain, and she'll use it on orc and elf alike. You be good to mama, and she'll be good to you.
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Evil is a lifestyle | she/her

Orc
Points: 138 
Posts: 30
Joined: Wed Jul 01, 2020 2:26 am
https://www.deviantart.com/prospass/art ... -521690812
Name: Snak
Age: Maybe like 30?
Race: Orc
Home: Northern mountain ranges of the Misty Mountains. Also the Grey Mountains and Gundabad.
Personality: She is an expert tracker and a professional hunter. Currently she is hunting dragons up by the Withered Heath. She is fiercely independent and does not trust easily. She is highly superstitious/religious. Worships Aule for some reason.
Weapons: She hunts with a Raven named Vit. As far as weapons, I'm not sure yet. Maybe a sling and spear combo.
History: Snak comes from a no name orc tribe from in the Misty Mountains. She is alone for reasons not yet determined. She has not personally participated in the wars with the dwarves or men, but she probably has family and friends that have.
Proprietor of Pakon Stazim
He/him

Thain of The Mark
Points: 1 271 
Posts: 660
Joined: Wed May 20, 2020 9:40 pm
Name: “Grobby!” It proudly declares in its high-pitched, scratchy voice, tapping its scaled chest

Age: It holds up three clawed fingers that many might misinterpret as representing a measurement significantly larger than is intended

Race: “Kobold” it squees with certainty, presuming anyone has any idea what those things are.

Home: It points at the ‘On the Rocks’ tavern and then, as an afterthought adds “Home is with momma (@Thalionwen) and Pop-pop (@Frostbite)” it says happily, before adding for clarification “Mommas are goldfish. Pop-pops are special” before giving a slow, wise nod.

Personality: It stares up at the thread runner blankly, it’s enthusiastically wagging tail slowing to a stop as it blinks repeatedly, clearly struggles to understand the question. ”What’s it mean, person aelity?” it said in its characteristic inability to internalise thought. ”Persona litty? Percy ownal tea” It makes a kind of low gargling noise that finally settles itself into a deep, almost creepy laugh that juxtaposes so poorly with its high-pitched voice that it sounds for a moment like someone much older and more sinister is laughing for it. Then it scuttles away, little clawed feet making pattering noises on the floor, to snatch up a small, broom with its long shaft cut short to facilitate Grobby’s barely two-foot height. It does an excited, little jiggle of joy that unfortunately makes it appear for a moment like it is grinding up against the shaft of the broom in a wholly inappropriate manner, then starts pushing the broom eagerly across the floor, colliding haphazardly and indiscriminately with tables, chairs and ankles. Sometimes it comes to an abrupt halt as it collides with one of the larger, more sinister patrons only to pause, blinking up at them. Occasionally such a collision earns it a kick or a shove, but more often than not the little creature is gently but firmly lifted up - broom and all - and deposited facing a new direction, whereupon it re-initiates its enthusiastic sweeping with an excited “Broom, Broom”, or alternatively singing happily away to itself "Tossy corn to you mister, Oh veeyee o' Broom Broom, Oh veeyee o' Broom Broom!"

Weapons: Its tiny clawed hands grip the broom handle tightly, equally sharp talons on its feet making a pattering noise on the wooden floor as it dashes about. It’s muscles are too weedy to ever wield the stunted broom with any force, but its long, pointed lizard-like face erupts into a grimace-grin, displaying row after row of lethal array of sharp, pointy teeth.

Then, with equal enthusiasm, it suddenly snatches at some random items on its back and, employing its racial keenness for constructing clever traps and nasty devices, puts a hissing, writhing sack into a colander, slides a large springy, metal serving spoon through the holes, pulls off the loose cord holding the sack closed, draws back the spoon and catapults the now open sack across the room with a joyous “SNAKAPULT!” The contents of the sack - being on this occasion a number of very poisonous, and now very angry, snakes - attack the denizens of the room indiscriminately.

The little creature dances a happy jig of delight, then pauses as it realises everyone has promptly left the room before it could demonstrate its grand finale of all weapons. For this little creature has inherited, against all expectations, the ability to breathe fire, but withholds the display as it sits disappointedly on the ground. In a brief moment of despondency, it casually catches and eats one of the poisonous snakes by way of comfort food, and is soon enough humming contentedly to itself as it enjoys the spicy taste. Before very long it is once again happily distracted with its broom once more, sweeping up the remains of the nest of snakes as a snack for itself.


History: Grobby is too enthralled in its game, the pattering sound of its little clawed feet rising and ebbing as it manoeuvres its way about the room interspersed with the occasional angry hiss and “Broom, Broom”, such that it falls to an otherworldly narrator to describe the origins of the little creature.

Grobby hatched from an oversized egg beside it’s two siblings eggs and behind a sign that read “Giant lizard eggs; great for omelettes and perfect for scrambling”. It knocked politely on at its neighbour-eggs but neither seemed to respond, so it dropped down from the shelf on which it hatched and began curiously investigating the other wares in the exotic food shop; toasted bat-kebabs, fruit that looked like it would bite back, and an assortment of other, significantly smaller eggs.

It gave the exotic food-shop owner quite a shock when he returned from his lunch break. Mistaking the slinking creature for an intruder or pest, he shouted insults at it, hurled chairs in its direction and beat it back with a broom until it was driven from the back of the store. The shop owner didn’t realise his error until much later when it discovered one of its prize eggs was missing and there were bits of shell scattered about the shelf, but his conscience felt no remorse all the same that one of his food delicacies had gotten up and run away; it wasn’t the first time.

In the nearby ditch it found the repugnant, long-dead body of a small goblin who has insulted the wrong Uruk for the last time. “Got to look like a peoples. Not get beated then.” it theorised aloud as it peeled tattered clothing from the dead-goblin’s rotting flesh and dragged the disgusting material over its form.

Thus garbed, the creature had approached the next building along curiously, but hesitating on the front doorstep it’s cowering visage had caught the attention of two well-muscled Snagas passing by. They had seen an opportunity for some fun and casually roughed up the pitiful creature before kicking it back down into the muddy ditch.

Feigning death so as to ensure the Snagas moved on without disturbing it further, the creature had dug deep into its race’s genetically inherited memory and recalled the wisdom of one of its immediate ancestors. “A master... find master and master will protect us from worthless brutes like them. Find someone better, cleverer, learn and listen. Much better to be beaten by one, than at the mercy of everyone” it stated aloud as it channeled the wisdom inherited from its blood-line.

Scrambling out of the ditch for the second time in short measure, it this time approached the tavern with less hesitation. Fresh from the egg but already bruised and cowering, dressed in rags and thickly coated in grime and muck, it had entered the ‘On the Rocks’ pub and the rest, as they say, is history.

Belongings:
Grobby pauses in its game to proudly exhibit its treasures for all to see;-
- A domed, sharp-edged dull grey eggshell shard large enough to fit over its head.
- Two plain wool stockings, mildly pungent and riddled with numerous holes, slashed badly by its clawed toes.
- A grubby tea-towel
- A stunted broom, with the shaft cut off halfway along its length to make it Grobby height (thus making Grobby the pub’s Tolkienesque Rhoomba)
- A currently unopened parcel, containing a stuffed lizard toy, with each of the legs attached to the body by way of strange little spines that seem perfect for detaching and reattaching, letting little Grobby rip the legs off of it as many times as he desires.
- A large pair of sparkly, ruby-sequinned knickers which the poor creature disturbingly refers to as his “treasure horde” with apparently no awareness whatsoever as to what they actually are.
- A strange collection of items; a colander (to hold the ammunition), a large springy, metal serving spoon (for the important spring), and the remnants of the nest of angry, poisonous snakes tied together loosely in a sack. When coupled with the kobold race’s keen skill for constructing clever traps and nasty devices could be hastily constructed into a SNAKAPULT!
Last edited by Allacan ob Burzum on Sat Mar 19, 2022 9:00 pm, edited 18 times in total.

Thain of The Mark
Points: 2 582 
Posts: 1399
Joined: Tue May 19, 2020 10:44 pm
Taeth is quickly becoming very complicated and since Rohan doesn't have a true character thread, and APPARENTLY she's going to be spending a large amount of time in Umbar, I'll just stick this here...

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Name: Taethowen Anhyrne (present), Lomiel (fake name used during some times in the past)

Age: early 30s

Race: Human

Home: split between Edoras, Riddermark; a private family home in the Eastfold, Riddermark; and APPARENTLY Frost's (@Frostbite) various residences. :smiley9:

Personality: Generally cheerful, but entirely logical and practical to her core. She's loyal nearly to a fault and only true betrayal will make her turn away from someone she cares for. She has a strict personal code of honor, and doesn't care if anyone else approves of how she upholds it. Her weaknesses are fine textiles and clothing, and a good cup of tea, as well as mead.

Weapons: Preferred weapon is by far the bow and arrow. She trained herself how to shoot with both hands (a grueling process). She is decent with a quarterstaff or sword, but ultimately prefers the concealability of fighting knives and daggers if she can't rely solely on her archery skills.

Significant Items: A medallion, which is a family heirloom. Needle & thread, which she plies skillfully as a seamstress.

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Image by Vorondir

History: Recently returned to the Mark after a 10-yr journey through Middle-earth that started, abruptly, when she fell ill on a journey and lost a good portion of her memories. She was previously married/handfasted, with an adopted son, but neither of those men are in her life anymore.

In the past, she served honorably in Rohan's Cavalry, even holding the position of Third Marshal for a brief period of time, and has recently been reinstated as a pæthfindian (scout). She is a veteran of the Northern Wind & Southern Storm campaign when Gondor called for Rohan's aid again after the War of the Ring.

She is an accomplished seamstress, and her pursuit of fine, foreign textiles is what brought her into a slightly unexpected relationship with Frost.

Further History Reading: Hall of Rohirric Histories, Life in the Mark


Physical Description:
Taeth is not-quite petite in stature at roughly 5' 5" in height. She has some curves, but her build is mostly lean and muscular due to her past (and newly reinstated) positions in the Cavalry, and she has not let her physical condition fall again after the aforementioned illness.

She has long, brown hair that she prefers to wear braided and pinned up for day-to-day life. Her hazel eyes more often look green than brown, and her skin is usually a touch tanned from working outdoors frequently.

Her hands and fingers are calloused, both due to her work as a seamstress and maintaining her skill as an archer. She has a long scar on her right hip from an unfortunate incident with an enemy spear during the Northern Wind campaign.
Last edited by Taethowen on Mon Jul 27, 2020 2:15 am, edited 2 times in total.

Dúnadan
Points: 324 
Posts: 110
Joined: Mon Jul 06, 2020 3:47 pm
I plan on spending most of my RP time here in Mordor so I hope it's ok for me to post this here

Name: Caladlethril
Age: Unknown
Race: Istari
Home: She's more of a nomad without a true, actual home
Personality: She tends to keep her true feelings to herself, and considers herself a peacemaker of sorts. She's usually curious and sometimes a bit devious as well. In Mordor she's completely out of her element, so will be shy and frightened until she sorts herself out.
Weapons: She has a staff made out of yew about as tall as her, and also possesses a dagger that she has only basic training with.
History: Caladlethril is a very minor Istari, mostly capable of only small illusions. She's wandered Middle Earth for quite some time looking for her purpose, and thinks that it may lie in Mordor. She's ventured here in an attempt to fulfill her calling as a member of the order and find her place in the world.

Physical description: She stands around 5'5", with long wavy light brown hair that she normally keeps braided and tossed over her shoulder. Her skin is fair, if slightly sunburnt from her time spent outside. Freckles dust her face and arms. She has hazel eyes. Few would consider her pretty, her features are remarkably average. She has more of a lithe figure that is muscular from a life of traveling.

Balrog
Points: 5 867 
Posts: 3513
Joined: Mon May 18, 2020 11:02 am
Name: Frost (though this is only a pseudonym, his real name is unknown to everyone but himself)

Age: Mid to late 70s

Race: Black Númenórean (and 1/8 Snowman of Forodwaith)

Home: A Villa near the Nan Morlith mountain spur in Mordor; a manse in Umbar in the waterfront district; an office, kitchen, and apartments in Dhâd Bûrz

Personality: While Frost normally uses the facade of a flirtatious slag to avoid a too close inspection, he is incredibly loyal to those he sees as worthy of his time and effort, though those are often few and far between. His is also dangerously ambitious, working behind the scenes on many schemes and plots designed to destabilize areas or bring him more power and prestige. When he is not presenting his cheerful, roguish persona, Frost is a cold, calculating, and manipulative individual.

Weapons: A hand and a half bastard sword forged from Orodruin steel, a two foot long iron stake, a glass marble used as a focus for his illusion magic, and various other magic scrolls

History: Frost was born in Umbar to wealthy and ambitious but not influential parents. At a young age he was sent to live with his great grandmother's people, the Snowmen of Forodwaith, to learn their magic runes. When he came back, he did so as a member of a secret mystery cult devoted to the Witch-King. He began his smuggling career as a mule for one of the larger smuggler's guilds in Umbar until he was able to take over and kill the previous head of guild. From there he expanded into Mordor, Gondor, and Rohan, finding contacts and suppliers across the social strata. He began training as an assassin but later abandoned the training for a more direct approach to killing people, finding occasional employment in the black pits and learning the ways of information extraction and punishment. Before long, however, he grew restless and returned to Umbar; there he employed a crew and commandeered a ship, stolen from a rival smuggler. After an initial disagreement with his thaumaturgist (which resulted in a rather large burn scar) he was able to win the crew over and convince many of his rival’s men to join him. They spent ten years abroad, stealing, pillaging, and building smuggling routes into Harad. Before he left Umbar, however, he had a chance meeting with a woman who had nearly been sold to a slaver. He rescued her, believing her to be of some noble standing that he could have owe him a favor. Unfortunately for him, he was not able to find out more about her until a chance trip to Rohan six years later. After returning to the Black Lands and finding employment at On the Rocks, Frost, through a strange series of events, became the father of a tiny kobold named Grobby who wandered into the pub looking for a master, becoming a co parent with Thalionwen who happened to be working with him at the time.

Physical description: Go Here
Strange Fruit got holes in the flesh but it ain't gonn' spoil cause it never was fresh

Chief Counsellor of Gondor
Points: 2 909 
Posts: 1281
Joined: Thu May 14, 2020 8:37 am
Various members of my Umbarian dynasty – The House of Halsad - are starting to turn up in random posts around the Nuplaza, and so I figure here is as good a place as any to store their particulars. Filling out a form for each of them would involve much repetition so this is a sort of breakdown rather of their individual deeds and skillsets, for my own reference and in case anyone is confused/interested.



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Salukatar Halsad

Eldest son of Captain Korre Halsad, a pillaging Corsair who was slain in Thorongil’s assault on Umbar in 2980 TA. Salukatar assumed his father’s place, and the rule of House Halsad in the aftermath, and was keen to retaliate against Gondor. Stealing a ship from the Shadow Cabal, he hampered the attempts of an ambitions Lord Araldur Azrubel of Belfalas, from raiding the Harad coast whilst the bulk of Umbar was rebuilding their armada.

The consequent ongoing feud between the two rival sailors led to several fraught battles at sea. Eventually Salukatar set out to see Araldur assassinated during the Gondorian Lord’s birthday celebrations. He is credited with the death of not only Araldur but countless other Gondorian party guests who were caught up in the affair. Salukatar was pursued and captured before he could escape Belfalas, and duely incarcerated at Prince Imrahil’s pleasure. Later found dead in his cell, he is assumed to have taken his own life.

Salukatar is the elder brother of Pharak, and the reputed father of Arkadhur.



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Pharak Halsad

Younger son of Captain Korre Halsad, Pharak chose to honour instead his mother’s Black Numenorean tradition and entered service of the Shadow Cabal. This may or may not have been a direct response to avoiding close proximity with his domineering father and brother. Tasked with ascertaining the realm of Harondor should fall under the sway of the Eye, during the late 2900’s TA he framed Gondor for widespread assaults he and his cohorts carried out on various tribes and villages throughout the debated land, Eventually thwarted by an unlikely alliance between one Heraasi of Harondor, and Domanol Raxelilta, a Ranger out of Gondor, Pharak took his revenge by ‘confessing’ to them that Umbar had taken on the guise of a Gondorian camp on the Harondor/Gondor border, with a mind to incite further violence. It was not until after their Harondor rebel army rushed in to dispel this enemy force that Pharak’s foes realised that the ‘Umbarians in desguise’ whom were killed in the assault by Hera and Domanol, were in fact true Gondorians, loyal to the Steward, come to investigate ! Pharak’s efforts to provoke hostilities between the two nations was secured.

Heraasi was executed by the surviving Gondorian soldiers but on the journey back to face justice at the hands of Denethor, Domanol escaped and set about hunting down Pharak to take home in his place and explain the entire affair. He was successful in locating his nemesis, who boasted how he had cut Domanol’s unborn baby out of Hera’s rotting body and thrown it to feed his dogs. The ensuing fight between the two men was observed by a rogue Elf of the Former House of Mole, intrigued by the latest kinstrife between the warring Men. And when Domanol triumphantly declared his victory over Pharak, the follower of Maeglin informed him that it made no difference: no one would ever believe or forgive the Gondorian’s slaughter of his own kinsmen. He knew a little something about being a kin slayer, and so Domanol believed his miserable prophecy.

Pharak instead was subjected to an account of his crimes being forcibly ‘carven’ into his flesh by the (one-time-sculptor) Elf, so that all whom saw the Umbarian agent after, would not be fooled by lies of who he was. Then they set him on fire, left for dead, so there was no way that he could talk his way out of the accusations either. Against all odds, Pharak survived this ordeal, and returned home as an advocate for the power of the Shadow whom he believed had saved his life, and clearly still had work for him to do.

The Umbarian returned home, to find that his favoured Slave in the family house had bourne him three sons, and that she had preserved the rule of House Halsad by whatever means necessary, since the death of Pharak’s brother, Salukatar, in Gondor. In anticipation of her lover’s expected return. Now that he is returned, Pharak is committed to the service of Sauron, and holds his court from the ancient blood temple in Umbar. As a recognised ‘employee’ of Sauron in Umbar, he does not shirk from condemning anyone who now stands in his way as a ‘traitor’ to the Shadow. Sometimes they truly are, enemies of the state. But more than often they simply are enemies of Pharak and of House Halsad, whose deaths are conveniently justified and whose possessions and dependents are all seized in the name of House Halsad, for the purposes of growing strong … enough to better serve Sauron, of course.


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Jenahda Halsad

The daughter of Chief Mwaneru Nahuut of Harad, Jenahda was proud of her father, the King of the Jackals, who preyed upon other tribes in the Far Harad jungle to retain his own peoples’ preservation. When Pharak Halsad came to Mwaneru, an ambassador for the Shadow, he was able to visit … and to inform Mwaneru of all the tribes who had decided to not submit to Sauron. With the inside information of Pharak having previously visited each of these ‘rebel’ tribes, Mwaneru’s assaults were flawless, his tribe’s dominance grew vast and strong, and he committed to the service of his benefactor, Sauron. Then came the unfortunate reveal that Mwaneru’s son and heir was in love with a member of one of the tribes set to be slaughtered. The young Jackal prince forewarned them, and they evaded the imminent defeat.

Furious, mostly that her brother was the heir of her father when she was elder, and more competent and clearly loyal, Jenahda set her father’s actual four-legged Jackals upon her brother and saw him dead. Proclaiming herself to now be the true and loyal heir of her father, Mwaneru was wise to this ‘accident’ being quite deliberate, but in a tricky situation to resolve it. To raise up a daughter as his heir would make him appear weak, as would the admission of his son’s treachery against the tribe. But he could no longer trust Jenahda not to go behind his back, nor slay his only remaining descendent. Pharak was the one who convinced Mwaneru to ‘gift’ his daughter to the ambassador, thus retaining his hold upon the tribe, passing sentence for the murder, and in due course, assuring a male heir to come out of his daughter and .. Pharak himself. Unwilling to turn down an alliance with a servant of the Shadow, Mwaneru accepted, on the condition that a male heir be guaranteed within the next five years.

Jenahda has never considered herself a slave of the House of Halsad, and from day one matched Pharak with her wiles and his devious machinations. Whilst he was away about his work for Sauron, she was brutally mistreated by his elder brother Salukatar, whom she soon after manipulated into stealing a highly prized but costly won ship, before publicly belittling him to the point that he could not shirk from seeking out the murder of a noble Gondorian, deep in enemy territory. This last missive proved the end of Salukatar, to Jenahda’s overlasting joy, and she quickly dominated the remaining household, serving as the ‘voice’ for the Mistress Halsad (Salukatar and Pharak’s mother) who has not left her bedchamber for decades now, nor even been seen to yet draw breath.

By the time Pharak returned home, a very altered man from the ambitious acolyte who’d left her, Jenahda nonetheless welcomed him with open arms, and introduced the returned Lord of Halsad, to his triplet sons, none of whom (it has to be said) appear anything alike, nor at glance look to even be related at all. Rumours abound that she somehow even succoured three unrelated male babies and passed them off as her own. Claiming that ‘the Shadow’ has his reasons, for just about anything .. Pharak seemed to take his estranged wife at her word however, and their union has resumed to a happy and convenient pairing.

Their sons are Matsu, Keket and Uhta.


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Matsu Halsad

Eldest of the sons of Pharak and Jenahda, an anarchic and excitable young man, keen to embrace the reckless, carefree life of a corsair. Matsu was elected to become his grandfather’s heir in Harad, and so set about establishing some trade between his mother and her father, by exporting exotic animals trapped by Mwaneru, to sell in Umbar for profit to House Halsad.

His mastery of animals has proven unexpectedly impressive, but he is headstrong, unheeding of counsel and entirely unwilling to play by anybody’s rules but his. In a rather out of the box ambition, he has took up with the alluring corsair queen, Sarabeth Gameela, and established efforts to replicate a temple of sacrifice .. upon the Wethrin Isles off Lindon. The general belief entertained by his following is that, if the sacrifice of men, or even dunadain men, should serve as tribute to Morgoth in a quest for immortal life, then surely the sacrifice of already immortal elves would surpass any previous efforts.

Thus far Matsu has been fraught by obstacles to his intention. His pursuit of Sarabeth has been rebutted for her own entertainment, his usurping of an Elvish starguild observatory was sabotaged, and the slaves he obtained to build his grand designs are continuously being sold off to ensure the compliance of the Mole King, Hatholdir Narroval, who has so far permitted the Umbarians to use his private isle as a means of evading the notice of the Lindon mainland. Ships bound from the havens to return to Aman are intended victims of Matsu, and yet, .. so far he has failed to bring home a substantial number of Elf sacrifices for his temple. His aggressive assaults on their ships tend to leave fewer survivors than he requires. As do his vain attempts to transport an oliphaunt out of Harad all the way to the isle, to help the construction there of his own empire.

But Matsu is nothing if not an optimist. He is determined to be known for at least some greater exploit than being the son of a particularly clever slave.


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Keket Halsad

Keket is the ‘middle child’, and the least travelled of them all. An early push by his mother to enter piracy was dismissed, after an unfortunate initiation rite by other corsairs saw him thrown to sea, and almost drowned. He is to this day unable to swim. Despite this apparently blaring flaw for any Umbarian, or perhaps because of it, Keket has delighted in exploring other talents. He served as a ship’s surgeon for several years, after murdering his predecessor, in an effort to remain below deck. But the experience of holding life and death and his hands was a dangerous precursor which then shaped his life thereafter.

Very much at home in Umbar, Keket was taken under his returned father’s wing, to learn and serve in the Shadow Cabal, and earn a place of renown and terror in the eyes of his neighbours and enemies. But he is resentful of being known only as ‘his father’s son’, and has ever sought some recognition for his own efforts. His contention began to manifest in the torture of other living things, surpassing any of the precedents for cruelty that his uncle Salukatar had demonstrated. Keket was not afforded the means to buy bodies for his dread study of anatomy and so resorted to scavenging from his father’s victims, and setting up ‘accidents’ that ensured a further ‘fresh’ resource of bodies. This proved harder on shore than on ship, and often he was forced to stoop so low as offering the homeless vagrants and the shanty town beggars a place to spend the night .. their bodies soon littered his chambers.

Known for terrorising the house slaves, and masterminding petty grievances and vendettas against his brothers, Keket eventually discovered a long-lost illegitimate son of Salukatar, who had been cast to the dungeons by Captain Korre years ago in favour of a theoretical legitimate heir that never presented. The power of holding this secret over the whole of his family only furthered Keket’s own self-arrogance. For years he played the puppeteer, setting up his secretly liberated cousin as a blackmail merchant based in Dol Amroth, to prise monies and ‘favours’ out of the rich relatives of ‘bounty’ that his corsair brothers brought home in their corsair raids. His closest means of infamy was blackmailing the Dol Amroth astronomer, whose daughter had been stole and claimed, by Uhta. Keket had his loyal lackey Arkadhur convince the rich Gondorian parent to steal the red arrow out of Minas Tirith, in exchange for the preservation of his captive daughter. Inevitably the plot was thwarted by Sergeant Pele Alarion of Gondor.

Then did Keket’s father lure a young and oblivious kinsman of his ancient nemesis, Domanol Raxelilta, out of Gondor, seeking to (by murder) put right the curse which he believed himself now under since their encounter in Harondor. The intended victim was rescued, and Keket held responsible for the escape, and duly cast out of any future in his father’s temple rites. Personally, the Umbarian attributed this disaster to one of the rescue party, Abrazimir Dimaethor, who he clashed with during the Gondorian retrieval. Naturally, he set his mind after to the vengeance he would visit upon that nobleman of Belfalas, but the soldier in question was serving in the military and proved a hard target to influence, for one so opposed to leaving him own stomping grounds.

It wasn’t until a renown Slaver of Umbar, named Relic, paraded around the news of a Gondorian soldier whom her minions had managed to spirit out of the military of Minas Tirith, a certain Sergeant Pele Alarion … that Keket began to hope for justice, to fall without mercy upon two past foes at once. Securing an alliance with Relic was a perilous undertaking, but the prize, to manage the tormenting extraction of information out of Pele, to gain information also on Abrazimir … was too great a want to pass up. Inevitably, Keket earned a reunion with Abrazimir who came to reclaim his friend and colleague … both Gondorians found themselves free of Umbar and once more the second son of Pharak is left to plot his next move.



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Uhta Halsad

The youngest son of Pharak and Jenahda Halsad, Uhta is the least concerned with politics or power, or petty vengeance. He fell easily into the corsair lifestyle, of raiding and pillaging, taking to delight in whatever he wants. He has no greater ambition in life than to enjoy himself, and this is mostly achieved by the amassing of beautiful women, shining jewels, and a gluttony of good food and wine. A mountain of a man, Uhta is an avid wrestler and an intimidating individual, . to behold. In truth he is much of a mummy’s boy, and would happily go through his life without the slightest notion of harming another soul, save for seizing the sort of a privileged lifestyle that his treasure hunting and stealing have afforded him that is.

Present ventures see him sailing under the command of Captain Kfir Gameela, murdering woodcutters near Bree in a want to harvest the forest timber for shipbuilding supplies back home. It is entirely possible that his mother, knowing him to be horribly afeared of ghouls, ghosts and spirits, sent him north with instructions for Kfir to scare Uhta free of such childish phobias, by seeing him face the barrow wights and reputed restless spirits of the Arnorian ruins in the north.

Uhta has left an unnumbered heap of female conquests behind him, whom he treats as kindly (read for that, ‘heavy-handedly’) as an infant treats small pets, until he tends to forget about them completely, leaving them to starve or suffer Keket’s attentions, while Uhta enjoys their replacement or is simply away at sea. One such unfortunate was recently the Lady Gael Estennin of Dol Amroth, whose father was compounded to attempt treason by Keket and Arkadhur. Uhta has already forgotten his little ‘Mouse’, is unaware that she has since been rescued and found solace in the wake of her father’s suicide, with a new husband and her young daughter at Lond Col, Belfalas.
All that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wander are lost
The old that is strong does not wither, deep roots are not touched by the frost.

Black Númenórean
Points: 2 528 
Posts: 1866
Joined: Thu May 14, 2020 3:21 am
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(by the incomparable Bella Bergolts)

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Hrafnhildr Frostdóttir


Name: Hrafnhildr (battle-raven), also known as Ylva (she-wolf)

Age: Early 50s

Race: ½ Lossoth, ½ Black Númenorean

Home: Cape of Forochel

Appearance: Hrafnhildr inherited the height and some features of her father’s people, with darker skin after the manner of her mother’s. Also from her mother’s people comes her pure white hair, a rare trait among the Snowmen of Forochel, last seen in Hrafnhildr’s maternal grandmother. This, combined with eyes blue as the ice of Forochel’s glaciers and rising some two inches above six feet, she presents a striking, if not conventionally beautiful, appearance. A lifetime of subsistence hunting and work as well as martial training in the harsh environment of Forochel has given Hrafnhildr a great deal of hard muscle, and not a scrap of extra flesh. Though her skin is roughened and lined from exposure to harsh weather, and her eyes have begun to collect crow’s feet, she does not look all of her fifty years- another gift from her wayward father.

Personality: Dry, direct, and intolerant of artifice, though capable of it when necessary. Ruthlessly practical. Not without a sense of humor.

Weapons: Highly skilled with spear, harpoon, bow & arrow, bolas, club, and snow-knife.

History: Hrafnhildr was born in the deep of winter on the coast of the Icebay of Forochel, to her mother Iduna. Known as ‘the Ice-hand’ for her skill at carving hard snow into shelters, Iduna was always candid with her daughter about her origins: her father had been a Númenórean from Umbar, a distant relation to their people who had come to foster in Forochel, and she was the product of their passion. Though he had come to Forochel with another name, the Snowmen had called him Frost. He was recalled to Umbar shortly after learning that he was to become a father, and Iduna had expected, on Frost’s promise, that he would return for her and the child she was to bear. The house from which he came in Umbar was Nûlukhô (night crow), and so Iduna had named her daughter both in his honor, and for the superior corvid which inhabited their homeland. Frost never returned.

Growing up amongst the Lossoth was a good life, but hard. A subsistence hunting people, Hrafnhildr learned from an early age how to hunt and all the many skills required to merely survive in their world. Her strength and stature allowed her to advance more quickly than others her age, training with the large weapons for hunting seal and whale very early. In addition to the practical applications of the various weapons that were the tools of Lossoth subsistence, Hrafnhildr quickly joined the cadre of her kinfolk who trained as warriors against the potential attack from other Men, or fell creatures. For her swiftness, stealth, ferocity, and victory in a clash with one of the great white bears of the north, she earned the nickname Ylva.

In her late teens, Hrafnhildr began to experience pangs of restlessness, and in her early twenties, decided to travel south to Umbar to seek out her father’s family. She had no particular desire to meet Frost himself, but all the tales Iduna had told her of the Nûlukhô intrigued her, particularly its matriarch, Zôrzimril, her grandmother. Iduna had written to Zôrzimril to inform her of her granddaughter’s birth, but no communication from Umbar was ever received since Frost’s departure. Hrafnhildr talked her way into an audience with Zôrzimril and revealed herself as Frost’s daughter. As it transpired, she was not her father’s only child, though she was the eldest; Zôrzimril informed Hrafnhildr that she had been locating other bastards sired by her son in recent years. She agreed to take Hrafnhildr under her wing and teach her the ways of Umbar and the Houses Nûlukhô and Castamir, and also tasked her with using her skills at stealth and tracking, to hunt down the most recent of Frost’s transgressions.

Hrafnhildr remained in Umbar for several years, absorbing the wisdom -of all kinds- that Zôrzimril had to offer, and learning a great deal from both the society and underbelly of the Haven. The matriarch of House Nûlukhô declared her intention to groom her granddaughter to take her place at its head, but Hrafnhildr had no desire to do so. At length she returned to Forochel, this time by sea, sailing alone in the small ship she had obtained. In the decades since her return, Hrafnhildr has remained in occasional contact with Zôrzimril, and others she met on her sojourn. Despite occasional interest from men of the Lossoth, Hrafnhildr never married, and showed no interest in the idea. Though the Lossoth are an isolated people, they maintain some contact with the outside world, and it was difficult not to be aware of the growing unrest in the North and the new power in Angmar. Hrafnhildr traveled to Carn Dûm as a representative of her people to treat with the Delgaran, receiving neither threat nor promise in return, only interest. With this uneasy peace in hand, she returned to the Cape of Forochel again, to keep wary watch with her people.
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Evil is a lifestyle | she/her

Orc Chieftain
Points: 648 
Posts: 318
Joined: Sun Sep 06, 2020 6:23 pm
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Name: Naelia (pronounced NIE-LEE-AH), sometimes referred to as the Lady of Shadow (mostly by the Elves of Northern Mirkwood, when she was forced to live with them for a time against her will)

Age: Unknown, but looks to be in her mid-thirties

Race: Black Numenorean with Moriquendi blood (but not proud of her Elven heritage, which is why she wears her dark curly hair long to cover the points of her ears, but not as long as an Elf, more like the length of the Halflings, so that her enemies don't pull on her hair to get her to do something, since she's often witnessed her trusted Orcish helper, Orngor, do this to her half-sister, Lathana, and almost felt sorry for the girl, almost...)

Home: The Dark Tower of Barad-dur, where she was born and raised (though it's a good possibility she could have been born in Dol Guldur, since her mother was known to get in trouble with the Dark Powers and was often taken to both strongholds, depending on which was more convenient at the time)

Personality: Like many minions, Naelia doesn't take well to being made a fool of, and will often revel in punishing those responsible for humiliating her, even her own family members. When her half-sister, Lathana, was accused of betraying the Dark Lord, it was Naelia herself that interrogated her, with no remorse whatsoever. The main reason she shuns her own Elven heritage comes from personal experience, back to the time when her mother kidnapped her and took her to live with her kin in Northern Mirkwood against her will, who wasn't trying to take her away from her father, but to teach her more about her Elven heritage. It was during this time that she was given the moniker of "Lady of Shadow" by what she calls a bunch of "rogue Elves" that either didn't know her true name or could sense her true intentions, and although some of her fellow minions also use this moniker, it is more as a warning to those of the free peoples that come across her not to mess with her: "Don't mess with the Lady of Shadow, she is one of us, so don't try to save her, since it has been attempted before, and the filth responsible have been dealt with." Her mother could have done this another way, which wouldn't have resulted in her own death, which made Lathana an orphan, which is why she was sent to Mordor to live with her half-sister, although the two of them never really got along, each being a part of the opposing forces, so to speak.

Weapons: Whatever she can get her hands on, but seems to favor her whip, given to her by her trusty sidekick, Orngor, when he and another Orc first captured her half-sister, Lathana, when she was accused of betraying the Dark Lord.

History: Naelia's lived most of her life in Mordor, mostly in the Dark Tower of Barad-dur, where her father serves. He is one of the Dark Tower's greatest lieutenant's, but not the Lieutenant of the Tower himself, though they are of the same race: Black Numenorean. Naelia's the product of him and a Mirkwood Elf, who often got into trouble with the Dark Powers due to her curiosity. The only time she lived anywhere else is when her mother spotted her during a scouting mission near Northern Mirkwood, and got the foolish idea to take her home to teach her more about her Elven heritage. It is rumored that this was when Naelia first met her band of rebels, since they were the ones the Dark Lord (or her father, it's unknown who actually sent out the order) sent out to retrieve Naelia and make the Elves responsible pay dearly (which they did, or rather, Naelia's mother did, since she lost her life in the process). Unfortunately, this band of rebels also included her half-sister, Lathana, who was captured just prior to her mother's death, and whom Naelia always resented, finding the Elf rather bothersome, as she often liked to describe her only surviving family member on her mother's side.


I had to do this all from memory, and I think I got pretty close, since I can't access Naelia's old bio from the Old Plaza, and I deleted the Hub Pages article (when I tried to edit it, they never seemed to accept the changes, so I closed my account. It was much easier on Squidoo, since they weren't as fussy). I think I got the drawing pretty close too, though I gave Naelia a choker in the form of her pet dragon, Drinch, whom Orngor probably made for her when she first came across Drinch abandoned near the Sea of Nurnen, or wherever the Fell Beasts were spawned from. Would make an interesting RP as to how Naelia first came across him. :smile:
Last edited by Lady of Shadow on Sat Oct 02, 2021 3:28 am, edited 7 times in total.
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He who commands the Ruling Ring... commands all

Scavenger
Points: 111 
Posts: 34
Joined: Wed Oct 07, 2020 3:04 am

Name: Graznikh
Age: Unknown but much older than he looks
Race: Orc
Home: Mordor
Weapons: Two long knives
Personality: Grumpy and suspicious at first, but will show a cheeky side once he gets to know his compatriots and feels that he can let his guard down. Hates everything tark with a passion. Likes to sample new food.
History: Graznikh can scarcely recall a time before the Black Land. He was born across the border in the White Mountains, but it doesn't seem to matter now. What matters is that his life belongs to the Dark Lord whether he likes it or not and he's just trying to make the best of an already shire situation.
Per viam, puto quod opus est mundo tumultus orcorum.

New Soul
Points: 72 
Posts: 27
Joined: Thu Jan 07, 2021 3:34 am


Name: Mauren the Proclaimer
Race: Morgul-Men (Likely Black Numenorean Decent)
Gender: Male
Age: 10
Biography: Mauren is the son of a noble Black Numenorean family. His father was slain in battle a while back, his mother serves Eye nearer to Lug-Burz while he resides his post in the city of Minas Morgul. The only other individual who he considers to be closest to being a supportive family is the Morgul-Orc, Uthurg, who serves as a guide and a mentor on behalf of his actual parents, being a loyal subject himself. He serves Sauron, and the Witch-King as a scout and a messenger, and occasionally a spy. Mauren is a rather melancholy individual, but has a firm and brusk attitude; and being a servant of the shadow he does regularly find pleasure in the torment of dark lord's enemies, even though he doesn't regularly torment them himself the mere knowledge of even an idea of someone who opposes the dark lord facing the potential threat of invasion does tend to fill him with glee, if only as a release from the pain he regularly hides from his loneliness and his grief of his father.

He has since taken up the title of "The Proclaimer" after taking up his late father's sword, which has since shrunken to a size he can manage due to some morgal spells.

He usually rides from place to place via horseback, occasionally with Uthurg along for the ride, for when he goes out scouting. He would also ride along the flanks of traveling companies of the Dark Lord's minions during missions, serving as an escort or standard bearer.

Name: Uthurg
Race: Morgul-Orc
Gender: Male
Age: Undocumented
Biography: Uthurg is a Morgul orc, who once served Mauren's parents as their messenger and personal assistant. He was given the task to be Mauren's sort of godfather, after the passing of Mauren's father, while his mother is almost exclusively active in Mordor itself. Uthurg is a lowly orc: short, broad-shouldered, long armed and bow-legged, with sallow green skin, a greasy mop of grey hair, and yellow eyes. Nothing out of the usual as far as common orcs go, though being an assistant to black numenorean nobels, and a mentor to their child, Uthurg is actually quite rational as far as orcs go. He is the one who makes sure Mauren learns what he needs to know, and ensures he is successful in fulfilling the tasks necessary to grow up to be a worthy captain of Mordor's armies.

New Soul
Points: 430 
Posts: 85
Joined: Wed Sep 01, 2021 8:01 pm
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Name: Nerys / Zôraphêl /
Age: 50ish
Race: Black Numenorean
Home: Originally hailing from Umbar, she is now a wanderer, calling no land home for too long.
Personality: Selfish and power-hungry, Nerys tends to act only in her own self-interest. Whilst she is loyal to a select few that she deems worthy, it would be foolish for any to completely trust her words or deeds, which ultimately serve only her own ambitions. Intelligent and usually measured, she can be quick to anger, but she is capable of artifice in concealing her thought and feelings when needed, even though she typically prefers to be more direct.
Weapons: Two trusty daggers and a bow are her usual companions, but who knows what else is hidden upon her person?
History: Born and raised in Umbar, the family were proud to be of pure Numenorean blood, their lineage able to be traced back to the Kings men. Originally the younger of two sisters, the family was rocked by the introduction of their fathers child conceived with a woman of Harad. None are sure why he insisted on welcoming the child, or openly acknowledging her as his get, but the families reputation was instantly tarnished by the sullying of their bloodline.
Nerys had not the disgust of her older sister at their fathers indiscretion, already tiring of the workings of Umbar society. Her half-sisters introduction into the family expanded her boundaries, bringing with her the stories from the far lands of Harad, with sparked Nerys' yearning for adventure and to escape the humdrum of Umbar. Zerani is one of the few who claim a part of her loyalty, and whilst they may go years at a time without seeing each other their bond does not fade.
Power built upon illusion, or wielded only through ones underlings held little appeal for Nerys as she matured. Though her family has long been accounted part of the ruling class of Umbar, though their standing had faltered in later years, she quickly became dissatisfied with the prospect of political machinations, or being married off as chattel to further her fathers paltry ambitions.
She is ambitious for power, but for Nerys power equates to knowledge, and whilst to some she seems aimless as she travels here and there to far distant lands, her wanderings are quite purposeful.

Archer of Lothlorien
Points: 90 
Posts: 29
Joined: Thu Apr 21, 2022 5:46 am
Name: Ar-Turic of Khand

Age: 33

Race: Men of Khand

Home: City of Caracol, Border of Khand and Harad

Personality: His traits would be Daring, Bold, Brash, Harsh, Deceitful, Deceptive, Less than honorable, Powerful, Calculating, Intimidating, Watchful, Greedy, Wise, Street Smart, Cunning.

Weapons: Short Sword, Two Javelin, Small Spiked Buckler, Two Small Hook Knives in his vest.

History: When looking at a traditional map of Middle Earth, one would find that at the far bottom left corner, there is a region simply labeled Khand. Most of the peoples of Middle Earth knew hardly anything of one of their most southernly neighbors, but none the less, Men trod there, who had been there since the time after the War of Wrath, when a good portion of Khand had risen out of the sea. To go into detail of the thousands of tribes and their histories that make up the Peoples of Khand would take several life times, but understand they are a confederacy, who ultimately and eventually serve the harsh Lord of Khand.

On the border between Khand and Harad you would find a medium sized trade city by the name of Caracol. Caracol had been an historic gathering place for various tribes of both nations for trade and war; there were large, fresh green fields to its east and blistering sands to its west, with the nearby mountains acting as a catch for the spring rains. The city was made up of mostly ramshackle houses, mud brick buildings and a small fortress with a wall, which was used to help protect the trade route. The city was currently ruled over by a contingent of the Lord of Khand, but was traditionally a of Harad. Emir Galli held control over Caracol with an iron grip.

Ar-Turic was of a small tribe called the Turug , who were originally nomads of the desert to the west. They had participated in the trade of spices, but when their tiny lake had completely dried up about a hundred years ago, they turned to raiding and slaving. As a remnant, his people had mostly given up their nomadic ways, but retained some customs, such as their rich, blue head scarves, which served to ward off evil spirits and bad omens. His uncle Ar-Kibbi had taken him in when he was just a boy, after his mother was taken in a Harad raid. Ar-Kibbi had been a small-time warlord, who led a band of fifty men, in service to the Emir of Caracol. When they weren't raiding competing trade roads to the west, they would assail vulnerable villages at the many oases in the desert to the West.

After suffering a falling out with the Emir, at the behest of his Uncle, he was forced to leave the city Caracol behind, and had made his way into the north to work as a mercenary or raider, mostly along side the brutes and wretches of Mordor. He was not an easy man to find, when he was out in the wild, but he would frequently be seen in the marketplaces and towns, selling his captured wares or recruiting beasts to his banner. Gold was all that concerned him, and one day returning home to Caracol.
Characters: Eruedraith [Lorien Elf], Ar-Turic of Khand [Khandese Man], "Amber" Dan [Gondorian Pirate], Hrard Depthcleanser [Khazad Dwarve]

Wainrider
Points: 202 
Posts: 95
Joined: Sat Aug 29, 2020 9:36 am
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Name: Kalakh-Hul (Haradrim for Serpent Lord), The Black Serpent, Suladan, Chieftain of Harad
Age: 40
Race: Haradrim man
Home: City of Karna, central Harad.
Personality: Welcoming, highly perceptive, prideful of his Haradrim descent, secretive, good statesman and administrator, diplomatic, unforgiving, vengeful, intimidating, dominating, fierce, legendary cruelty,
Weapons: Sword, spear, nail-studded bronze shield, knives, poison, legendary stealth and assassination experience,
History:

Childhood

Growing up

Adulthood

Claiming the Sword of Mardat

Becoming a powerful chieftain of Harad

Relations with Mordor and Gondor

Southron
Points: 24 
Posts: 2
Joined: Wed Jul 27, 2022 4:21 am
Name: Maurzur Samal (nicknamed Smaug the Gold)
Age: Unknown
Race: Orc
Home: Mordor (born in Angband)
Personality: Wise and cruel. Aged but sprightly. He has seen much but tells little; a listener, not a teller. Treat him with respect and he will reciprocate in kind. However he has been known, especially in battle, for his berserking. His physique is slender but strong; lean muscle. He bears several scars on his face, each from a different battle, some from different wars.
Weapons: Skilled with a long sword and famed expertise with bow and arrow. He has lead armies into battle and fought in several wars. He is also a skilled assassin and has several short blades and throwing daggers.
History: An older inhabitant of Mordor, Maurzur Samal hailed from originally from and active Angband. From its old ruins he formed a small but fierce house, now lost and scattered. Long ago he held acclaim in Mordor, but left and wondered the lands of middle earth. Decades later, he returned.

New Soul
Points: 72 
Posts: 27
Joined: Thu Jan 07, 2021 3:34 am
Can someone brief me on who the characters are in the Angmar rps?

Orc Chieftain
Points: 648 
Posts: 318
Joined: Sun Sep 06, 2020 6:23 pm
Might as well put Lathana in here as well, since she's mostly in Mordor (regardless of her constant escape attempts):

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(I drew her with the same Doll Divine character creator that I made Naelia with, and tried to make them look somewhat alike, since they are related, even if they despise each other)

Name: Lathana

Age: Unknown, but looks to be in her mid-twenties, by human standards

Race: Mirkwood Elf

Home: The Black Pits of Mordor (currently), originally from Northern Mirkwood

Personality: While she was still living at home in Northern Mirkwood, Lathana was known to be friendly and couteous to most races (even the occasional Dwarf, though many of her race distrusted them for whatever reason. Lathana thought it best not to get involved so she tried to resist the urge to ask what started the dispute among the races) though after her capture became more ruthless (but not as ruthless as her half-sister, Naelia) in order to survive the constant reprimands from Naelia and her co-horts every time she tries to escape and is unsuccessful. Although she constantly fails in the attempt, Lathana continues to believe that she will one day escape the Dark Land (either by herself or by help) and when she does intends to get as far away from Naelia as she can. "Why couldn't I be an only child?" she often asks herself, but just because Naelia is ruthless doesn't mean any other siblings are (if she has any more, that is).

Weapons: Though she doesn't carry any on her person, like her ruthless half-sister, Naelia, can use whatever she can get her hands on, but prefers to fight with her bare hands. When she was a trusted member of Mordor's Army (against her wishes, but if she would have to live in Mordor, she better learn how to survive, since even when she was still living in Northern Mirkwood, preferred to avoid any kind of conflict, since she didn't like to be involved in any kind of interracial skirmish, to put it lightly), she was planning to be part of the sector that was known as the cavalry, since their weapon of choice was either the sword or bow and arrow (Lathana, being a Mirkwood Elf, preferred the latter, whereas her half-sister, Naelia, preferred the Blades division)

History: Lathana is Naelia's half-sister on her mother's side. She doesn't know who her father is (she only shares a mother with Naelia, but has a different father, who is also an Elf, unlike Naelia's, who is a Black Numenorean) or if she has any more siblings."If they're anything like Naelia, I'd rather rot in the Pits then get to know any more monsters like the Lady of Shadow!" she's been known to spit out when interrogated either by Naelia herself, her trusted Orcish helper, Orngor, or another Orc who helped to capture her by the name of Ormiak, whom she may have killed in one of her failed escape attempts.

When her mother was killed for taking Naelia away from the only life she ever knew, Lathana was sent to live with her in Mordor and joined Mordor's Army, the Black Guard, only to be accused of betraying the Dark Lord by attempting to escape. She was later captured by Naelia, Orngor and Ormiak and is constantly interrogated every time she tries to escape and is recaptured. Her latest attempt almost cost her an eye if Naelia wouldn't have intervened since she had some sort of a beef with Lathana's captor: "Nobody interrogates annoying family members other than ME!" was one of her arguments (though Lathana may have not heard the exchange).

When Lathana refuses to co-operate (which is quite often, so sometimes Naelia gets the urge to throw her into the fires of Mount Doom to be done with her once and for all, but since she was already killed once and brought back to life, the minioness doesn't see the point and often finds another way to make Lathana's life more miserable than it already is), Naelia likes to bring in Drinch, a small dragon like creature she rescued near the Sea of Nurnen from a swarm of Murder Hornets, whom she's encountered during hunting down thieves in her native homeland. It's amazing that Lathana hasn't been accused of trying to take something from the Dark Land, even though she constantly tries to escape and go back to her home in Northern Mirkwood (regardless of the fact that she may have no more family there, but home is home).
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He who commands the Ruling Ring... commands all

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