LOTR RPG Character Profiles

[DáinIronfoot]

I just realized that I did not yet import this thread from the CC archives. (The original thread can be found here.)

Once you all have decided on a character for LOTR role-playing, post it here for all to see. You certainly don't have to follow it, but here is a basic guideline:


Good Guy/Bad Guy Character (I suppose truly neutral would be an option, but 9 times out of 10 it will be one or the other)

Name: (just avoid something like "Bob" and we should be alright )

Age: (rather obvious, but please stay within "normal" bounds for your race...no 500-year-old Men, for example)

Race: (Man, Elf, Orc, etc.)

Class: (examples include--but are far from limited to--Ranger, Warrior, Assassin, Archer, Horseman, Spellcaster, etc.)

Equipment: (weapons, armor, mounts, and any other gear your character would normally be found toting around)

Personality: (what is he or she like? friendly? gruff? shy? be descriptive!)

History: (doesn't have to go into great detail, but the more the better)

Alignment: (typically something like "for the forces of good in Middle Earth" or "a servant of the Dark Lord Sauron" or something, but you have plenty of wiggle room here)


Have fun, and happy RPGing!

P.S.: If you have an existing character you wish to keep going somehow, feel free to go to the original character profile thread from CC and repost that character here. I know I will be.

[DáinIronfoot]

Guess I may as well break the ice....

Good Guy Character

Name: Rorin, Son of Balir, Dwarf of the Iron Hills, Descendant of Durin the Deathless

Age: 107

Race: Dwarf

Class: Warrior/Smith

Equipment:
- A double-bladed steel battle axe (like the one carried by a fellow Dwarf of Erebor, Gimli), the last crafted by Balir, Rorin's father.
- A throwing axe and a hand axe.
- A helm made of iron and steel (again, similar to Gimli's).
- A hauberk of steel mail.
- Boiled leather gauntlets with steel and iron strips for added protection.
- Vambraces made of fine steel mesh, a famous creation of the Dwarves of the Iron Hills.
- Usually sets out with a supply of cram, the waybread of the Men of Dale.

- Does not carry--but knows how to use--swords and (albeit a little clumsily) small bows, as taught by the Men of Dale.

Personality: Gruff, impulsive, and rough around the edges, but quite a loyal and wise-cracking companion once you get to know him. Like most Dwarves, Rorin is pretty hardy and strong, but not as quick as, say, Men and Elves.

History: Rorin is a typical Dwarf with a typical history, at least on the surface.

He was raised in the Iron Hills by his father Balir, a renowned craftsman and smith of his people. Balir and his son both followed Dáin Ironfoot to aid Thorin Oakenshield at what became the Battle of Five Armies, but unlike most of his kin, Balir returned to the Iron Hills afterwards rather than staying at the Kingdom under the Mountain. Though Rorin had rather liked his first real taste of battle, he followed his father and, under his tutelage, became a fine smith himself.

Ironically, it was this more peaceful path, rather than war, that led to disaster. While mining iron ore deep in the mountains, Rorin became trapped when a larger-than-expected fragment of the cavern wall broke off as he was chipping away at it, crashing into the wooden walkway where he stood and causing it to collapse. When Balir heard of the accident, he rushed to Rorin's aid and was lowered down by rope to drag his dangling son to safety. He managed to hoist Rorin back to solid ground, but the rope became snagged on a rocky outcropping and snapped, sending Balir plummeting deep into the shaft to his death.

Grief-stricken, Rorin took up the last axe crafted by his father, packed all the supplies he could carry, and left the Iron Hills, unable to bear living among his kinsman anymore. He made his way back to the Lonely Mountain, and was welcomed by Dáin's people, even after they heard the rumors of what had driven Rorin there.

Rorin continued as a smith and became quite well-known for his work among the Dwarves of Erebor, but began training himself as a warrior, occasionally with aid from the likes of Glóin, father of Gimli, and Thorin Stonehelm, son of Dáin. Aside from his friendships with them and a couple other Dwarves, however, Rorin never felt like he completely belonged.

This caused him to venture more than most Dwarves into the town of Dale, where he mingled among first the local blacksmiths, and later many others. He became a great friend of the Men of Dale, helping them combat occasional goblin and warg raids, great floods, and even financial troubles by negotiating several trades between Dale and Erebor. Soon, he was somewhat of an ambassador to both his kinsmen under the Mountain and the Dale-men.

But he was not liked by quite everyone. One day, Rorin saw a lad of Dale come under attack by goblins from the north, and remembering the helplessness he had felt while trapped in the mines of the Iron Hills years ago, rushed to the boy's aid, driving the goblins away with the boy's own sword. The boy, as it turned out, was of royal blood, a direct descendant of Bard the Bowman. His father was openly grateful for the rescue, and rewarded Rorin lavishly, but his appreciation soured as the boy, named Ryle, began to treat the adventurous and reinvigorated Rorin as more of a father figure than his busy, beaurocratic father, an esteemed councilor of the city.

Eventually, his building animosity frustrated Ryle, and he left Dale and headed west. He still kept in occasional contact with Rorin through messengers that traveled between his eventual settling place--Lake Evendim by the ancient, abandoned city of Annúminas--and through them, the Dwarf learned that the young man had founded a group of ranger-like followers, called the Ortans, and was doing quite well for himself.

Rorin, even at the height of his comfort in Erebor and Dale, began to long to see his friend again. When he heard of a gathering of heroes answering the call of a ranger of the north, Curubethion, in faraway Bree--and further heard that a certain young man was likely headed to join them--Rorin packed his things and left, vowing this time, however, to return again. He was reunited with his young friend, and the two ventured out, side-by-side, into unknown adventures ahead.

Alignment: For the forces of good in Middle Earth.

[SomeRandomDude]

Name: Duinihir.

Age: 27

Race: Man.

Class: Ranger.

Equipment: Numenorean Longbow with large quiver, small curved sword and Narhim (meaning Cold Fire), a ranger sword made of elvish steel, knife name Tehtyrch and a bow and arrow.

Personality: Rather outgoing, for a ranger. Although somewhat secretive, not as much so as the other Rangers. However, he is careful what he says and is a sly and crafty as any Dunedain.

History: A descendant of Isildur, Duinihir was a ranger of the north. Although young, Duinihir had experienced more than most ranger's of any other time period. He fought in the north with Strider and has recently left his abode in the north to share his fate in with the rest of middle earth.

Side: guess





Name: Hareth

Age: 19

Race: Man

Class: Assassin

Equipment: A long crooked knife of the hardest steel, Bow, Longsword, Complete set of Leather Armor, and a pet Mumak. (which he rarely uses)

Personality: Greedy, will do anything for a price. (especially killing Rohirrim)

History: Hareth was born in a small village in Harad. He grew up living around war and was trained as a fighter from birth.

One day, towards the end of the Third Age, when Hareth was 10 years old, a band of Rohirrim charged through his village, alsying his mother and infant brother. His father instilled in him a hatred for the horse-lords of Rohan. When Hareth was 17, Sauron sent out a summons to the men of Harad to serve him, and Hareth and his father offered their swords and bows to the service of Sauron. His father speedily increased in rank, and quickly became a mumak commander. After fighting several skirmishes in Gondor, and after being ambushed by Ithilien Rangers, Hareth and his father were ordered to fight together on a mumak in the Siege of Minas Tirith.

During the assault, Hareth's father was killed by a Rohirrim Javelin, and the mumak was thrown in disarray. Hareth quickly filled his father's place and took command of the mumak, leading it to safety after tghe onslaught of the Army of the Dead. For this act, he was awarded the highest honor of the Haradrim Army, a young dwarf mumak.

After the war was over, Hareth returned to his homeland, and, with no connections, hired himself out as an assassin. Hareth's first assignment was from a tribal chieftain, who hired him to assassinate the Chief Councilor of the King of Harad.

Hareth spent months in preperation for the assassination attempt. This was his chance to prove his cunning and skills in fighting. Stealthily he crept through the ranks of the Haradrim, his small and nimble body attracting no attention in the crouded throng. Seeing the Chief Councilor, Hareth hesitated a moment before flinging himself at the man and stabbing him thrice in the heart with his long crooked knife. Ambushed by the Councilor's bodyguards, Hareth fought fiercely and with unbridled fury. One of the bodyguards slashed his cheek, throwing Hareth to the ground. When the bodyguards came over to see if he was dead, he threw himself on one, killed him and burst through the throng. He had proved his manhood in the most difficult task, for though he did not know this, the chief councilor's security was the tightest in the land of harad. A large bounty was placed on his head, but his craftiness is unmatchable.

From this point forward, Hareth's reputation as a skilled assassin grew. On more difficult tasks, he uses his bow and arrow, or throwing knives, on easier tasks, he prefers the adrenaline rush of breaking through the bodyguards and assassinating the target with his long crooked knife.

Hareth made a small fortune off his few assassinations, and lives comfortably in his mansion in the capital of Harad with his pet parrot and mumak. However, even there it is not safe. Although there is a large bounty on his head, Hareth refuses to hire a bodyguard, preffering to defend himself personally.

There have been several attempts on his life. In the first attempt, a man snuck into his bedchambers, spotted Hareth on his bed, crept towards the bed and raised his sword, just in time to be attacked by Hareth in the back.

On the second attempt, a skilled southron archer unleashed an arrow at him, which he cut in half with his long crooked knife, before hurling it into the bounty hunter's throat.

Hareth has had no further attempts on his life, as the publicity of the failed attempts has discouraged would be bounty hunters. However, the price of his head has just increased, so he remains constantly alert for any further attempts on his life.

Hareth is currently 19 and can usually be found sharpening his knife on the roof of his house or at the tavern, comtemplating vengeance on the cursed horse-lords who slaughtered his family.


Side: "Side? Whoever pays me. Except for those cursed horse-lords, if you can call them lords, who seemed to be controlled by their own horses."

[AgentDrake]

Name: Ectheow

Age: 37

Race: Man

Class: Warrior/Minstrel

Equipment:
-A bearded-style axe, decorated in serpentine gold patterns, named Wulfsvín (Wolf-Vine)
-A scavenged Easterling spearaxe head (the shaft was broken off) used as a small axe/scimitar/generic tool
-Light mail armor
-A medium round wooden shield with various scripts running around the rim and edge, including Dwarf-runes, Elven, Rohirric, Westernesse, and a few scraps of the Black Speech and the Easterling Tongue.
-A leather pouch containing:
-A bone harp with decorative horses carved across it.
-Several scraps of parchment with various poems, lays, legends, etc. written in several languages, mostly Rohirric, but there are a couple with Dwarven, Elven, and Easterling script on them, and some with unknown or lost languages, taken from barrows and scavenged in the desert Tombs.
-Various small trinkets and jewels raided from bandits; few to none of any real use save as trade stock for bartering.

Personality: Generally reserved, more than slightly bitter and cynical at times. Will hold grudges, and tends to consider people in general to be either incompetent morons (especially Hama) or dangerous conspirators (especially Grima.) Paradoxically, has an almost obscene love for legends, lays, poems, et cetera. Alternatively loves and despises riches, though he spends almost as much time grubbing around in old treasure hoards for gold as he does grubbing around in the libraries of Middle Earth looking for more stories.
He also has a weak Second Sight.

History: Ectheow was once apprentice to Theoden King's head scop (minstrel) Hygleac, an old blind man with a strong gift of the Second Sight. Hygleac first predicted Grima and Saruman's collaboration twelve years before hand.
Hygleac taught Ectheow to study men's motives and learn to predict their actions:
Hygleac grinned, gazing sightlessly over the Golden Hall. "Watch him. It does not take sight to tell what -- whom -- he seeks. It is always the same; in the distant past long forgotten, in rmembered tales, and in these days. It all begins with a motive. A desire. Watch where men gaze, what they follow, perhaps with feet, but also eyes, ears... minds. Grima, Son of Galmod seeks Eowyn. Curunir seeks Power."
Ectheow looked doubtfully. "Curunir? Saruman? He has always been a great aid to us in trouble."
Hygleac nodded. "Yes. And he has set up a fortress; the only Wizard to do so. He has staked out lands. He uses his power to fight. Against our enemies for now. But he is ever mindful of Rohan. Why do you think he wishes to keep our nation intact? We have done nothing which would entice him for any reason to preserve us for our own sake. And he is a good friend of Grima. Grima has power. Saruman has the hearts of Rohan. Each has what the other wants. It is only a matter of time before they make a bargain...."
When the blind minstrel had confronted and challenged Grima five years later, he was killed by Hama, who saw the commotion, and slew Grima's attacker, only discovering the old blindman's identity afterwards. Grima had then convicted Hygleac and Ectheow of treason, and Ectheow was exiled.
Ectheow spent the next several years later wandering Middle-Earth and cursing Grima, Hama, and Saruman. He journeyed North, spent two years in Rhun as a counter-brigand, raiding the desert assassins and other brigands. From there, he wandered North-West, and spent a short time in Erebor before he wandered through Forodwaith and Carn-Dum into Arnor, where he spent most of his time alternatively wandering from village to village collecting tales from travelers passing through – especially Dwarves – and running half-mad deathwish raids on tombs in the Barrow-downs.
One night, while traveling North, Ectheow stopped for a drink in the Inn of the Prancing Pony. He had managed to fence off tomb goods there before, to some cheap no-gooder named Ferny, but he wasn't expecting to get roped into a mad race for a dark weapon led by the ranger Cerubethion.

Alignment: For the forces of Good. Or for anyone who's against Grima, even if it were Morgoth himself.

[GarrisonofGondor]

 Good Guy Character

 Name: Garo

 Age: 28
 
 Race: Man

 Class: Ranger
 
 Equipment: Ranger's Longbow, Ranger's Longsword, Shign Dhu, Throwing and Saxe Knifes.

 Personality: Garo is an average Ranger with extreme Archery skills. He is shy, withdrawn, and a Master of the  Shadows.

 History: Garo's history is shrouded in mystery. The omly thing we do know is that he loved an girl named Kelso.
 Kelso was a very active, yet beautiful girl. Then, one day as she was picking flowers in the woods, The Easterlings attacked. When Garo found her body he almost died with grief. Now, he lives only to punish the Easterlings for her death.

Allignment: Anyone who is against the Easterlings, though he prefers to fight alone. His constant companion is Halbarad.

 So here is the new guys Person. 

[SomeRandomDude]

A little young to have a past romance, eh Garrison?

[GarrisonofGondor]

 Thanks A lot 

[Elendil!Urukfear]

Good Guy

Name: Lunar Vinciety

Age: 27

Race: Man

Class: Ranger

Weapons: Willow-made long-battle bow, Saxe knife, Throwing knife, spiked guantlets, light leather armor, and a gondorian blade.

Personality: He keeps to himself, not very talkative. Avoids light areas. He does not like to be in majorly inclosed areas. Likes forests and climbing trees. He can be aggressive but is slow to anger. Has bad spelling.

History: He orginated from Eriabor, but where in Eriabor no one is sure. No one knows what happened to his parents. He was found in a wrapping of mithril-like cloth, and adopted by an unbearing woman who tends gardens and sheep.
He was a strong lad and helped his mother on the farm a lot. When he was old enough (18) he was taken by the army. He was origonally trained to be a foot soldier, then went up in rank to become a warrior. Eventually he grew sick of being told what to do and how to do it, so he ran away.
 He eventually ended up in a dark  forest that was later named Fangorn. He found friends there, not people. But ents. He lived a few years there, learned to fend for himself, and learned some of the entish language. Not quite all, beacause to say something in entish takes a long time to say. He also learned signals for other animals and could train birds to send messages all over the forest.
 After about 8 years in the forest he was found by a couple of lakesmen that had gone out hunting. Those lakesman turned out to be Dale archers. He learned a few skills from them, but was soon considered, to good to be a huntsmen. So They lead him to Their army specialist and He learned all that was to be taught by the man. Lunar Has, in recent years, been found as a ranger of Dale.

Allignment: Any Ranger, has once been seen with Aragorn. But any Free peoples bladesman of middle-earth he will get along with.

[Gate Troll]

I transfered this from CC and updated it.

Name: Golmuth

Age: 85

Race: Troll

Height: 12' 7''.

Weight: 700 lbs.

Class: Attack Troll, Gate Troll.

Weapons: A Morning Star and
a 7" long Axe Weight Axe 95 lbs
Morning Star: 100 lbs.

Armor: Iron Plate Armor Weight: 158 lbs.

Personality: Loves to Hack, Destroy
Pillage, Kill and Eat.

Allignment: None. Sauron is dead so
he falls in with the nearest Orcs. He hates
Goblins however; he would rather kill Goblins
than Elves.

History: Golmuth was created by Sauron in Mordor.
He was a Gate Troll until the Siege of Gondor, when
he was a made a Troll Commander. Golmuth led
the Attack on the Gates with Grond; it was his stroke that
brought the Gate down. During the battle Golmuth was
chased away by horsemen; Golmuth fled to Osgiliath,
and then to back to Mordor. He fled after the battle of Udûn
and commanded a small band of Uruk-hai before eventually joining
up with the Easterling Eltlas and fighting at the siege of Dol Guldur.

Added on 8:11 PM, September 27, 2008

Name: Sniggit

Age: 83

Race: Dwarf

Height: 4' 7''.

Weight: 179 lbs.

Class: Warrior, Adventurer

Weapons: A battle-axe, a war-hammer, five throwing axes and a dirk

Armor: Dwarf-made Armor

Other equipment: Bracers, a buckler, boots, and a cloak

Personality: Sniggit is sarcastic, cynical, grumpy, pessimistic, and intelligent, and has bad social skills unless he is with other dwarves and definitely if he is with elves.

Allignment: Neutral. Sniggit is a total loose-cannon. He disregards all rules and is disrespectful of just about everyone. He occasionally joins a group of humans or elves, but he does so at his own leisure and whenever he wants to. He has no loyalties to anything or anybody outside his own race, and can be a total jerk.

History: Sniggit was raised and taught all he knows by his father and uncle and he as travelled on many adventures and journeys.

[GarrisonofGondor]

  Good Guy Character

  Name: Sorin II

 Age: 35

 Race: Dwarf
 
 Class: Warrior

 Equipment: War-Hammer, Pike, Gloves, Two-Pronged Bracers, Armor, Helm, Steel-Toed Iron Boots.

 Personality: Sorin is Outgoing, Fierce, Funny, Prideful, & a Master of Stategy.

 History: Dain's most capable warrior, Sorin is a true Iron Hills dwarf. He was sucessful on almost all the missions Dain sent him on. Not much history except for the usual dwarf stuff  .

 Alignment: The Free peoples of Middle Earth.

[Centurion]

 

Name: Candron

Age: 38

Class: Bounty hunter/Ranger

Race: Human

Armor: Leather Jerkin and and Boiled Leather Bracers

Weapons: Two-Handed Longsword, Short Recurve Bow (Rohirrim style), Dagger, and Poisoned Darts

Personality: pessimistic to the extreme and with a tendency toward sarcasm, very secretive and generally distrustful of everyone.With a particular distaste for elves.

History: Very little is known about his past except that he was raised in the Iron Hills with a family of dwarfs.

Alignment: Wherever he thinks is most profitable to be at the time and generally he sides with the dwarfs in any conflict. Does some Bounty Hunter work

[Elendil!Urukfear]

Bad Guy

Name: Ulengog

Age: 3

Race: Uruk

Class: Scout

Equipment: Curved mordor scimitar, Uruk broadshield, normal Uruk helmet and armor.

Personality: smartest of the Uruk's. quick to anger. pessimistic.

History: Saruman made this Uruk special from the breading pit. Second in line only to Lurtz. He was sent as a tactician with the rest of the Uruks to destroy the fellowship. Running ahead of the pack, he soon found the fellowship in their boats, prepairing to dock. He decided to watch them and gather information of their weaknesses and where they were going. When the battle was over, and Merry and Pippen were taken by the rest of the pack. He did not follow them. Instead, he followed Frodo and Sam in the spare boat that the fellowship
had brought along, knowing that Frodo had the ring.
Following the two in their journey all the way to the stairs that lead to Shelobs lair. Not being able to climb the stairs, Ulengog found another way around to Cirith Ungle. When the hobbits escaped, he got caught in the fight between Orcs and Uruks. And of course, he survived by escaping into the mountains. He couldn't find the hobbit's trail from there, not even the smell of that Gollum creature. Instead he journeyed back to Isenguard to find that the ents had wreaked havoc opon the place. So, he resided in Fangorn Forest, hiding from the ents and trees and waiting for something to happen.

Allignment: Any Uruk. Will never reside with Orcs because of their difference to him. Trolls and Goblins he might make an exception for though.

[The Confessor]

Good Guy

Name: Arandur

Age: 28

Race: Man, of Numenorian blood

Class: Guard of the Citadel of Minas Tirith

Equipment: Oira Estela (a broken long sword), a bracer (all that remains of his gondorian armor), a travel sack with a few days worth of food and water, a dagger, a few silver pennies, well-worn traveller's clothing.

Personality: Quiet, reserved. Seems socially awkward, bitter.

History: "I was once proud. I was once good. I was once a man. Now, my own cowardice has changed that. My father, Caladis, a simple blacksmith -both valiant and humble- was ever proud of the White City and the blood of Numenor that was the legacy of Gondor. By the light of the forge and the stars of the Valar my father spoke of our family, of our legacy, of our heritage. He recounted stories carried to him by his father, and his father before him. He told me a great and secret truth: I am Arandur, Son of Caladis, a Bastard of Hurin.

"In countless generations passed, one of the Stewards of Gondor had a moment of weakness while upon campaign against the Shadow. Taking a camp maid into his bed for a single evening, he began the bloodline that now flows in my veins. My father does not know the Steward from which we are draw our heritage, nor is he bitter at being denied a place on the Steward's Throne. To merely share blood with the heroes of Gondor has always been enough for my kin. Simple. Humble. Satisfied.

"You can imagine my father's joy, the swelling in his breast, when he learned that his only son was to be a Guard of the Citadel. His pride was limitless. The only sadness in his heart came when he spoke of the mother I'd never known and how she would have loved to see this day had she not given her life for mine at my birth. When the day finally came that I was to take my oath of service my father presented me with a gift worthy of Hurin: The finest blade I have ever known: The Long Sword known as Oira Estela: Hope Eternal.

"As the years passed I grew ever more vigilant and proud of my service to the White City. However, I could not disregard the growing unrest that I felt in my heart. The Shadow was growing long, and though many of us within the Citadel spoke of the comfort of the Seven Gates and the protections of Minas Tirith we could also not ignore the growing storm in the heart of Lord Denethor.

"I saw my first battle when Osgiliath was retaken under the command of Lord Boromir. He was a valiant and goodly man with a heart of kings. After the battle was over he walked among the men, offering congratulations and sharing both company and drink. A Lord indeed in both title and spirit. Soon afterwards, Lord Denethor deemed Osgiliath safe from the further intrusions of Minas Morgul. Many secretly questioned his wisdom, though none spoke openly against it. Lord Denethor ordered many men, myself included, return with him to the White City. He left his young son Faramir to watch over the near ruinous city of Osgiliath with scant few men and it is to their credit that Osgiliath remained under the banner of the White Tree for as long as it did. But I believe that even Lord Denethor knew the city would be lost again in a matter of time. In addition, Lord Denethor sent his heir north. Rumors whispered of a secret parlay with the elves of the Last Homely House, though none knew the truth of it.

"As seasons passed Lord Denethor grew darker, until one day he went into his throne room and did not exit. The men of the Citadel were fearful and morale was low. Whispers spoke of an army massing in Minas Morgul and it seemed like any moment Shadow would again fall on Osgiliath. Then, suddenly, the city was bustling. Mithrandir, the White Wizard now, had returned to treat with Denethor. He had with him a child, though I only caught glimpse of the boy once. On the heels of the former Grey Pilgrim came Faramir with a small troupe of Ithilien Rangers. He took audience with Denethor as well and in that chamber my fate was sealed.

"Osgiliath had been overrun and by order of Lord Denethor, Captain Faramir was to lead a gathering of Citadel Guards in the retaking of the city. I saw his eyes that day, as he stood at his father's flank. Lord Denethor said he was selecting the "Greatest that Minas Tirith had to offer, kingly men for a kingly battle so that his son might learn the long absent virtue of courage by witnessing the Guards of the Citadel in battle." I'll never forget watching Denethor turn to his son as he spoke to all of us, "You, Sons of Gondor, shall return to us as heroes - whether it be in song or in flesh."

"It was in this moment I realized there was no hope left in the heart of the Steward. He was marching his Captain, his son, along with the rest of us, straight into our graves. But for my Steward, my Captain, and for Gondor, I had sworn to give my life. We were not even given time to say our good-byes to family. It was the first time I was glad that I had never taken a wife.

"We left the city amongst the weeping and the sorrowful, as if we were already dead. Women wept. Children looked to the fathers they were about to lose, yet they did not understand what was happening around them - only that the sadness claiming the one great White City was finally being played out before their eyes. Finally, the great gate opened and we road forward.

"Beneath a blazing sun, in the armor of the Citadel, with Oira Estela in my grip, we road like legends upon the lips of poets and we died like the kings of old. Black arrows filled the sky as creatures great and terrible rose from the ruins to meet our good Captain Faramir. I can recall so little, now. Blood, fear. I remember the screams of the dying and the horrible booming laughter of the orcs as they took joy in the slaughter of Man. It was amongst the ruins and the rubble that my blade broke beneath the onslaught of orcish axes. Around me, it seemed as though the entire company, all of Faramir's riders, had fallen. It was then that I turned my back on Gondor.

"I fled. I ran. I retreated into the sewers of Osgiliath. For days I lived off putrid water and rat-flesh as I became mad and fearful of the Enemy's army. Finally, at the brink of insanity, I fled under cover of night. Following the Anduin River until I was away from the city, I ran. Living from the land, as well as trading pieces of my armor for food, I eventually took my shame north into the lands of the Rohirrim.

"Now, I am simply Arandur - a man. No longer a Guard of the Citadel or a man of Faramir's Company. Only an oathbroken soldier who finds occassional work as a laborer or a sell-sword. Such are the times of Men."

[GarrisonofGondor]

 Good Guy

 Name: Galgalid

 Age: 70

 Race: Elf

 Class: Warrior and Spellcaster

 Equipment: Elven Sword, Gil-galad's Armor, spellbooks and Aiglos.

 Personality: Reseved and shy, except when around friends or allies.

 History: Galgalid Is the grandson of Gil-galad. Isildur gave him his grandfathers Armor and spear.

 Alliance: The free people of Middle-Earth.

[GarrisonofGondor]

 Good Guy

 Name: Jakon

 Age: 94

 Race: Numenorean

 Class: Warrior
 
 Equipment: Numenorian Sword, Bow, Arrows, Shield, Armor, and Helm. (Just think of him as a guy in Might of Numenor and Bow of Minas Tirith)

 Personality: Out going, friendly, and HATES orcs.

 History: Jakon's Grandfather fought in the battle for Middle-Earth. His weapon and armor all belonged to his Grandfather. Jakon preserved them over the years and now uses them.

 Alingnment: All the free people of Middle-Earth except Dwarfs. Hates Dwarfs.