I don't know about the rest of you, but I love creating new characters. The frustrating part is rarely getting a chance to play even a fraction of them.
In lieu of getting to role-play these characters, I thought I'd create a thread where we can at least share some of our creations.
Rules:
1) Keep it to the backstory and just the key stats (traits, favoured skills, etc.) that fit that story.
2) Please limit yourself to one per culture.
Can't wait to see what others come up with. I'll kick it off with two of mine.
Colorful Characters
-
Glorelendil
- Posts: 5140
- Joined: Mon Jan 13, 2014 5:20 pm
Colorful Characters
The Munchkin Formerly Known as Elfcrusher
Journey Computer | Combat Simulator | Bestiary | Weapon Calculator
Journey Computer | Combat Simulator | Bestiary | Weapon Calculator
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Glorelendil
- Posts: 5140
- Joined: Mon Jan 13, 2014 5:20 pm
Re: Colorful Characters
“Skinny” probably isn’t the first adjective one would use to describe Bodibras Bolger, at least until his prodigious...and locally renowned...appetite is put on display. Even among Hobbits, Bodi can really “pack it away”, as they say, apparently without any impact on his waistline. He earned the nickname Skinny less for his profile than for his astonishing ability to hide all that food away in a hitherto undiscovered second stomach.
Bodi’s parents told him early on that if wanted more food he was going to have to cook it himself, so he did, and discovered that he quite enjoyed the kitchen. Although not rich, he did eventually inherit enough that he never really had to work, and in looking for some way to “make himself useful” he decided to write a cookbook.
A decade later that cookbook, which at that point was titled “An Encyclopaedia of Recipes of the Northern Kingdoms”, had grown to several volumes and contained as much history, biography, herb-lore, artwork, and etymology as it did actual recipes.
But Bodi recognized that the information available within the Shire was limited, and that in order to “complete” his project, he was going to have to venture beyond the safety of his lifelong home. He is no great traveler, and most certainly not an “adventurer,” but duty calls, and so he set forth on his “Research Expedition.” Equipped with writing materials, a few favorite pots and pans and knives, his trusty sling (with which he fills his cookpot with coneys and game birds), and a map of the lands East of the Shire, he set forth to discover, document, and devour recipes past, present, and future.
Bodidbras “Skinny” Bolger
Hobbit Scholar
Specialties: Cooking, Herb-lore, Rhymes of Lore
Traits: Patient, Keen-eyed
Favoured Skills: Persuade:2, Stealth:3, Search:2, Craft:3 (Also Lore:2, not favoured)
Weapon of Choice: Sling:2
Virtue: Fair Shot
Bodi’s parents told him early on that if wanted more food he was going to have to cook it himself, so he did, and discovered that he quite enjoyed the kitchen. Although not rich, he did eventually inherit enough that he never really had to work, and in looking for some way to “make himself useful” he decided to write a cookbook.
A decade later that cookbook, which at that point was titled “An Encyclopaedia of Recipes of the Northern Kingdoms”, had grown to several volumes and contained as much history, biography, herb-lore, artwork, and etymology as it did actual recipes.
But Bodi recognized that the information available within the Shire was limited, and that in order to “complete” his project, he was going to have to venture beyond the safety of his lifelong home. He is no great traveler, and most certainly not an “adventurer,” but duty calls, and so he set forth on his “Research Expedition.” Equipped with writing materials, a few favorite pots and pans and knives, his trusty sling (with which he fills his cookpot with coneys and game birds), and a map of the lands East of the Shire, he set forth to discover, document, and devour recipes past, present, and future.
Bodidbras “Skinny” Bolger
Hobbit Scholar
Specialties: Cooking, Herb-lore, Rhymes of Lore
Traits: Patient, Keen-eyed
Favoured Skills: Persuade:2, Stealth:3, Search:2, Craft:3 (Also Lore:2, not favoured)
Weapon of Choice: Sling:2
Virtue: Fair Shot
Last edited by Glorelendil on Fri Jun 27, 2014 1:52 pm, edited 1 time in total.
The Munchkin Formerly Known as Elfcrusher
Journey Computer | Combat Simulator | Bestiary | Weapon Calculator
Journey Computer | Combat Simulator | Bestiary | Weapon Calculator
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Glorelendil
- Posts: 5140
- Joined: Mon Jan 13, 2014 5:20 pm
Re: Colorful Characters
Arinbeorn believes that he is called “the Tall” by his fellow Beornings because of his imposing stature, but those same friends could tell you that the nickname derives more from the improbability of the tales he tells in his booming voice, the embellishments growing with each re-telling.
As a boy Arinbeorn loved the winter, because that season afforded the most opportunities to hear the tales and songs of elders. He memorized all of them, but most of all he loved the tales of dragons, and he decided that one day he would kill a dragon. To this end he put forth all his effort, constructing and defeating elaborate mock dragons in the woods, practicing lightning quick spear attacks, seeking out imagined dragon lairs in the nearby hills, trying (rather unsuccessfully) to build up an immunity to fire, and pestering any travelers for news of dragons.
Arinbeorn was one of the few of his people to have believed the stories of a dragon on the other side of the Mirkwood, and it was with regret bordering on despair that he learned of the death of Smaug. He felt cheated. But in the last few years he has convinced himself that there are yet dragons remaining in the world and that he will still have his chance. In fact, he has already composed the first few stanzas of an epic song about the deed.
Arinbeorn the Tall
Beorning Slayer
Specialities: Story-telling, Mountaineering, Dragon-lore
Traits: Tall, Robust
Favoured Skills: Awe:3, Athletics:2, Song:2, Travel:1
Weapon of Choice: Great Spear:3
Virtue: Great Strength
As a boy Arinbeorn loved the winter, because that season afforded the most opportunities to hear the tales and songs of elders. He memorized all of them, but most of all he loved the tales of dragons, and he decided that one day he would kill a dragon. To this end he put forth all his effort, constructing and defeating elaborate mock dragons in the woods, practicing lightning quick spear attacks, seeking out imagined dragon lairs in the nearby hills, trying (rather unsuccessfully) to build up an immunity to fire, and pestering any travelers for news of dragons.
Arinbeorn was one of the few of his people to have believed the stories of a dragon on the other side of the Mirkwood, and it was with regret bordering on despair that he learned of the death of Smaug. He felt cheated. But in the last few years he has convinced himself that there are yet dragons remaining in the world and that he will still have his chance. In fact, he has already composed the first few stanzas of an epic song about the deed.
Arinbeorn the Tall
Beorning Slayer
Specialities: Story-telling, Mountaineering, Dragon-lore
Traits: Tall, Robust
Favoured Skills: Awe:3, Athletics:2, Song:2, Travel:1
Weapon of Choice: Great Spear:3
Virtue: Great Strength
The Munchkin Formerly Known as Elfcrusher
Journey Computer | Combat Simulator | Bestiary | Weapon Calculator
Journey Computer | Combat Simulator | Bestiary | Weapon Calculator
Re: Colorful Characters
Alette of the Buhr
Fair-skinned, fire-crowned, emerald-eyed Alette was of the People of the Buhr of Maethel. That town lies at the confluence of the River Rushdown and the River Anduin, and had as its origin a trading-town and outpost of the Men of Gondor, who in the days of the Kings would come north on their barges to trade for the bounty of river and forest. Those days are long-past, and now the folk of the Buhr live in wooden huts and longhalls below the crumbling stone towers and villas that the Men of the South raised, and the Eotheod maintained, but that none know now the secret of their making.
Her father was Rook the Hunter, who would range up and down the river and forests and even into the marshes, and bring forth game. The hides and food obtained thus served to make comfortable himself and his daughter, and they were content. They might have lived there all their days, and Rook had grand-children to dandle on his knee as his hair turned white.
But Rook was troubled in his heart, wanting more than the world around him offered, and feared the coming of his old age and death. So he took up his bow and his three short spears, and said to his daughter:
"Alette, the Elves speak of the ithilroch, the Moon-Steed which runs along the hills and meadows by starlight and moonlight." And he laughed. "They say Elves are wise! We Men know that the Elven-King seeks the White Hart, crowned with great tines." And he held up his hands and made the shape of antlers on his head, with which he had delighted his daughter as a child.
But she was not delighted now, and frowning, said, "Many men have sought both Moon-Steed and White Hart, father, and none so far have claimed the bounty of the forest the Elven-King offers. Why not seek other game, closer to home? You might take a great black boar in the woods, and carve horns from his tusks, and then men would envy you more than you return, rueful and empty-handed, in the fall."
But Rook the Hunter only smiled, and kissed his daughter on the crown of her head, and went out into the hopeful spring of that year.
Alette planted her garden, and kept their home. Throughout the spring she would have word of her father from other hunters, and traders, who had seen him in the eaves of the forest and upon the slopes of the mountains.
Summer came to Buhr Maethel. Alette re-thatched the roof, and after much consideration, slaughtered one of the billy-goats. Now there was no word of her father, not even from the night-walkers and skin-goers, who would look at her with their bear-eyes and shake their shaggy heads at her.
Fall. Alette harvested her garden, carrots and cabbages and roots of all sorts to see her through the winter. And she went down to the river with the other women, with nets and salt, before it became too cold to work the waters.
And there was word of her father. On the third cast of her net, among the good swift wriggling trout, there was one of her father's three short spears, lodged amongst broken tines of a set of antlers.
Alette laid the spear aside, and finished gutting and salting the fish, before wrapping it in a soft cloth and going back up the hill. She would need the fish for the long and lonely winter.
When spring came, Alette set out with her best cloak and her grandsires long-spear, which her father had rarely touched but was all now she had left to arm herself with. It had a good steel head, dwarf-make, and would suffice.
She came after some time to the home of Amfossa the Trapper, and she said, "I seek my father, Rook the Hunter." And she described his coal-black hair and the carved leather quiver he had made with his own hands.
"Your father is well known to me, Alette of the Buhr," said Amfossa, stripping the skin from a great mountain-cat.
"Then you have seen him?" said Alette.
Amfossa did look up, meeting Alette's eyes, but silently kept to her work. After some time, Alette took her leave.
Spring turned to summer, and Alette was laying beneath a willow tree, debating the various merits of the Carrock against the Old Ford, when a blue-banded, sharp-billed bird alighted above her. Shaking himself regally, the Kingfisher Lord said,
"Hail to you, Alette of the Buhr. You have come far from home with no wings to carry you."
"I seek my father, Kingfisher Lord," said Alette. "Have you seen him, as you take flight across water and stone and meadow?"
"Your father is known to me," said the Kingfisher Lord reproachfully. "He has sometimes taken my people on the wing, when he grows tired of game that runs on four legs."
"Yes," said Alette, "but... recently?"
The Kingfisher Lord looked at her sadly, and flew away in a burst of feathers.
Fall came, and Alette returned to Buhr Maethel, wiser but no less lonely. Though she was offered a goodly price for it, two fine ewes and a honey-hive of bees, she spent the months of snow and ice curing and sewing the last of her father's leather into a fine corslet made for a strong young women who perhaps had more determination than sense.
In the spring, she meant to set out again, and her story might have gone much differently if not for a chance-meeting with Hwalda the Hunter, who said to Alette,
"Quests can fill the heart, but leave the stomach empty. And the purse, more importantly!" And she laughed loudly, in her way, for little could darken the mood or humours of Hwalda the Hunter. "The Woodmen-Town sends a caravan around the forest to the north, on the yearly run to the town of the Lake-Men. They say all news comes to the Long Lake, given time." Airily, she waved her spear. "You can keep the watch while I sleep, and perhaps I will show you how to kill an Orc or two."
She learned to kill more than an Orc or two, but that tale is for another time.
This was the Year of the Battle of the Five Armies. Though it brought peace and plenty to Wilderland and the Dale-lands and even to Mirkwood, it was considered something of an inconvenience to the Woodmen who had shepherded their wagons and pack-horses the long and weary leagues north of the forest, only to discover that there was no now Lake-town at which to exchange the bounty of the forest for leather and wine and other fine things, merely a great horde of Dwarves and Elves and Men, and an even greater horde of dead Orcs upon the field.
But there was a third Hoard as well, a Dragon-Hoard, and that meant gold.
As she sat upon a stone on the edge of the field, watching the murders and clamours and unkindnesses feast on orc-flesh, the great Chief of her people, Beorn the Skin-Changer, settled down next to her. Alette considered this for some minutes, and then opened her mouth to speak.
Beorn forestalled her. "I know of your quest, Alette of the Buhr." And he held out his hand.
In it was another of her father's three short spears, the wood stained dark and black with blood. Beorn had torn it from the stomach of a warg during the battle.
Alette accepted it with something approaching gratitude, and the Great Bear left her to her thoughts amongst the birds of ill-omen.
After some time, Alette rose up, shook the dust from her boots, and aimed herself towards the camp of Bard the Bowman and his host. Her purse was full, as was her heart, but it had occurred to her she might be at this for some time.
======================
Alette of the Buhr
Beorning Wanderer
Traits: Beast-lore, Mountaineering, Folk-lore
Distinctive Features: Hardy, Robust
Favoured Skills: Insight: 3, Athletics: 2, Hunting: 3, Healing: 2
Weapon of Choice: Great Spear: 3
Reward: Great Spear (Keen)
Fair-skinned, fire-crowned, emerald-eyed Alette was of the People of the Buhr of Maethel. That town lies at the confluence of the River Rushdown and the River Anduin, and had as its origin a trading-town and outpost of the Men of Gondor, who in the days of the Kings would come north on their barges to trade for the bounty of river and forest. Those days are long-past, and now the folk of the Buhr live in wooden huts and longhalls below the crumbling stone towers and villas that the Men of the South raised, and the Eotheod maintained, but that none know now the secret of their making.
Her father was Rook the Hunter, who would range up and down the river and forests and even into the marshes, and bring forth game. The hides and food obtained thus served to make comfortable himself and his daughter, and they were content. They might have lived there all their days, and Rook had grand-children to dandle on his knee as his hair turned white.
But Rook was troubled in his heart, wanting more than the world around him offered, and feared the coming of his old age and death. So he took up his bow and his three short spears, and said to his daughter:
"Alette, the Elves speak of the ithilroch, the Moon-Steed which runs along the hills and meadows by starlight and moonlight." And he laughed. "They say Elves are wise! We Men know that the Elven-King seeks the White Hart, crowned with great tines." And he held up his hands and made the shape of antlers on his head, with which he had delighted his daughter as a child.
But she was not delighted now, and frowning, said, "Many men have sought both Moon-Steed and White Hart, father, and none so far have claimed the bounty of the forest the Elven-King offers. Why not seek other game, closer to home? You might take a great black boar in the woods, and carve horns from his tusks, and then men would envy you more than you return, rueful and empty-handed, in the fall."
But Rook the Hunter only smiled, and kissed his daughter on the crown of her head, and went out into the hopeful spring of that year.
Alette planted her garden, and kept their home. Throughout the spring she would have word of her father from other hunters, and traders, who had seen him in the eaves of the forest and upon the slopes of the mountains.
Summer came to Buhr Maethel. Alette re-thatched the roof, and after much consideration, slaughtered one of the billy-goats. Now there was no word of her father, not even from the night-walkers and skin-goers, who would look at her with their bear-eyes and shake their shaggy heads at her.
Fall. Alette harvested her garden, carrots and cabbages and roots of all sorts to see her through the winter. And she went down to the river with the other women, with nets and salt, before it became too cold to work the waters.
And there was word of her father. On the third cast of her net, among the good swift wriggling trout, there was one of her father's three short spears, lodged amongst broken tines of a set of antlers.
Alette laid the spear aside, and finished gutting and salting the fish, before wrapping it in a soft cloth and going back up the hill. She would need the fish for the long and lonely winter.
When spring came, Alette set out with her best cloak and her grandsires long-spear, which her father had rarely touched but was all now she had left to arm herself with. It had a good steel head, dwarf-make, and would suffice.
She came after some time to the home of Amfossa the Trapper, and she said, "I seek my father, Rook the Hunter." And she described his coal-black hair and the carved leather quiver he had made with his own hands.
"Your father is well known to me, Alette of the Buhr," said Amfossa, stripping the skin from a great mountain-cat.
"Then you have seen him?" said Alette.
Amfossa did look up, meeting Alette's eyes, but silently kept to her work. After some time, Alette took her leave.
Spring turned to summer, and Alette was laying beneath a willow tree, debating the various merits of the Carrock against the Old Ford, when a blue-banded, sharp-billed bird alighted above her. Shaking himself regally, the Kingfisher Lord said,
"Hail to you, Alette of the Buhr. You have come far from home with no wings to carry you."
"I seek my father, Kingfisher Lord," said Alette. "Have you seen him, as you take flight across water and stone and meadow?"
"Your father is known to me," said the Kingfisher Lord reproachfully. "He has sometimes taken my people on the wing, when he grows tired of game that runs on four legs."
"Yes," said Alette, "but... recently?"
The Kingfisher Lord looked at her sadly, and flew away in a burst of feathers.
Fall came, and Alette returned to Buhr Maethel, wiser but no less lonely. Though she was offered a goodly price for it, two fine ewes and a honey-hive of bees, she spent the months of snow and ice curing and sewing the last of her father's leather into a fine corslet made for a strong young women who perhaps had more determination than sense.
In the spring, she meant to set out again, and her story might have gone much differently if not for a chance-meeting with Hwalda the Hunter, who said to Alette,
"Quests can fill the heart, but leave the stomach empty. And the purse, more importantly!" And she laughed loudly, in her way, for little could darken the mood or humours of Hwalda the Hunter. "The Woodmen-Town sends a caravan around the forest to the north, on the yearly run to the town of the Lake-Men. They say all news comes to the Long Lake, given time." Airily, she waved her spear. "You can keep the watch while I sleep, and perhaps I will show you how to kill an Orc or two."
She learned to kill more than an Orc or two, but that tale is for another time.
This was the Year of the Battle of the Five Armies. Though it brought peace and plenty to Wilderland and the Dale-lands and even to Mirkwood, it was considered something of an inconvenience to the Woodmen who had shepherded their wagons and pack-horses the long and weary leagues north of the forest, only to discover that there was no now Lake-town at which to exchange the bounty of the forest for leather and wine and other fine things, merely a great horde of Dwarves and Elves and Men, and an even greater horde of dead Orcs upon the field.
But there was a third Hoard as well, a Dragon-Hoard, and that meant gold.
As she sat upon a stone on the edge of the field, watching the murders and clamours and unkindnesses feast on orc-flesh, the great Chief of her people, Beorn the Skin-Changer, settled down next to her. Alette considered this for some minutes, and then opened her mouth to speak.
Beorn forestalled her. "I know of your quest, Alette of the Buhr." And he held out his hand.
In it was another of her father's three short spears, the wood stained dark and black with blood. Beorn had torn it from the stomach of a warg during the battle.
Alette accepted it with something approaching gratitude, and the Great Bear left her to her thoughts amongst the birds of ill-omen.
After some time, Alette rose up, shook the dust from her boots, and aimed herself towards the camp of Bard the Bowman and his host. Her purse was full, as was her heart, but it had occurred to her she might be at this for some time.
======================
Alette of the Buhr
Beorning Wanderer
Traits: Beast-lore, Mountaineering, Folk-lore
Distinctive Features: Hardy, Robust
Favoured Skills: Insight: 3, Athletics: 2, Hunting: 3, Healing: 2
Weapon of Choice: Great Spear: 3
Reward: Great Spear (Keen)
-
Glorelendil
- Posts: 5140
- Joined: Mon Jan 13, 2014 5:20 pm
Re: Colorful Characters
Love it, Murcushio (cousin of Ben-vallo?). Thanks for sharing.
The Munchkin Formerly Known as Elfcrusher
Journey Computer | Combat Simulator | Bestiary | Weapon Calculator
Journey Computer | Combat Simulator | Bestiary | Weapon Calculator
Re: Colorful Characters
This is my character from Southron Loremaster's PBP. He's been around for some two years and predates the pretender 'Fox' from Darkening/Heart.
Regnald 'The Fox'
Woodman Warden
Specialties - Beast Lore, Mirkwood Lore, Shadow Lore
Traits - Determined, Vengeful
Common Skills - Athletics 2, Awareness 3, Explore 3, Inspire 2, Travel 2, Healing 3, Stealth 2, Hunting 2
Weapon Skills - Long Hafted Axe 4, (Bows) 3
Wisdom 3, Valour 3
Virtues - Mastery of Expertise, Hunter's Resolve
Rewards - Grievous Axe, Cunning Made Learher Corselet.
Regnald, known as 'The Fox', was born and raised in a hamlet on the Dusky River called Woodman's Ford. When he was barely three summers old, the Wizard Radgast brought a foundling girl child(Dagmar) to his mother, who was currently nursing his newborn baby brother(Alwis). Despite their initial misgivings, his parents accepted Radagast's word that the child had no evil in her and agreed to raise the girl as their own. She was, according to the old wizard, a special child and perhaps destined for great things.
As the three grew up together, they played with the other children at the pool by the little waterfall, just south of the village.it was here that Regnald first noticed her affinity with the water and gave her the pet name of 'little otter'.
These days, she is known among their people as 'the Foundling'. Regnald refuses to use the term and continues to address her as 'little otter'. He regards her as his blood kin, even if she is not and he is prepared to fight anyone who suggests otherwise.
His own name is 'the Fox'. As a child, his mother would often send him into the woods between the hamlet and, nearby, Rhosgobel. "Off you go, little fox, bring us home a rabbit for our supper." Never once did Regnald fail in his duty to his family, even if it took him three days. He was a determined boy and would not return empty handed. His parents, Acbold and Heledwis, grew used to his going off for days on end. They recognised his love for the woods and soon gave up on forbidding him to cross the river into the wilder parts of the forest.
Now he is a man and the name suits well his russet brown hair and beard as well as his guile.
He never failed in his duty as a boy and he has sworn that he will never fail in his duty as a man to protect his people. He is a warrior of some skill but is wise enough to realise that a dead hero is no hero at all.
He firmly believes that the Free Folk of the Wilderland must unite to have any chance of survival. The shadow over Mirkwood has rescinded but only fools believe that it is anything more than a breathing space.
He has travelled to Dale to seek the patronage of King Bard, a gift-giver and a Dragonslayer, no less. So far he has failed to gain an audience. The King is ever surrounded by an army of scribes and counsellors who have constantly barred his way.
He is currently at Laketown, awaiting the opportunity which will prove his mettle. Something that will draw the King's attention.
He has been accompanied by Dagmar(much to his consternation). He knows that he should not worry about her unduly. She is a match for any young male warrior and he rarely underestimates her capabilities but he is her older brother and, sometimes, he just cannot help it
Regnald 'The Fox'
Woodman Warden
Specialties - Beast Lore, Mirkwood Lore, Shadow Lore
Traits - Determined, Vengeful
Common Skills - Athletics 2, Awareness 3, Explore 3, Inspire 2, Travel 2, Healing 3, Stealth 2, Hunting 2
Weapon Skills - Long Hafted Axe 4, (Bows) 3
Wisdom 3, Valour 3
Virtues - Mastery of Expertise, Hunter's Resolve
Rewards - Grievous Axe, Cunning Made Learher Corselet.
Regnald, known as 'The Fox', was born and raised in a hamlet on the Dusky River called Woodman's Ford. When he was barely three summers old, the Wizard Radgast brought a foundling girl child(Dagmar) to his mother, who was currently nursing his newborn baby brother(Alwis). Despite their initial misgivings, his parents accepted Radagast's word that the child had no evil in her and agreed to raise the girl as their own. She was, according to the old wizard, a special child and perhaps destined for great things.
As the three grew up together, they played with the other children at the pool by the little waterfall, just south of the village.it was here that Regnald first noticed her affinity with the water and gave her the pet name of 'little otter'.
These days, she is known among their people as 'the Foundling'. Regnald refuses to use the term and continues to address her as 'little otter'. He regards her as his blood kin, even if she is not and he is prepared to fight anyone who suggests otherwise.
His own name is 'the Fox'. As a child, his mother would often send him into the woods between the hamlet and, nearby, Rhosgobel. "Off you go, little fox, bring us home a rabbit for our supper." Never once did Regnald fail in his duty to his family, even if it took him three days. He was a determined boy and would not return empty handed. His parents, Acbold and Heledwis, grew used to his going off for days on end. They recognised his love for the woods and soon gave up on forbidding him to cross the river into the wilder parts of the forest.
Now he is a man and the name suits well his russet brown hair and beard as well as his guile.
He never failed in his duty as a boy and he has sworn that he will never fail in his duty as a man to protect his people. He is a warrior of some skill but is wise enough to realise that a dead hero is no hero at all.
He firmly believes that the Free Folk of the Wilderland must unite to have any chance of survival. The shadow over Mirkwood has rescinded but only fools believe that it is anything more than a breathing space.
He has travelled to Dale to seek the patronage of King Bard, a gift-giver and a Dragonslayer, no less. So far he has failed to gain an audience. The King is ever surrounded by an army of scribes and counsellors who have constantly barred his way.
He is currently at Laketown, awaiting the opportunity which will prove his mettle. Something that will draw the King's attention.
He has been accompanied by Dagmar(much to his consternation). He knows that he should not worry about her unduly. She is a match for any young male warrior and he rarely underestimates her capabilities but he is her older brother and, sometimes, he just cannot help it
Re: Colorful Characters
Elfcrusher wrote:I don't know about the rest of you, but I love creating new characters. The frustrating part is rarely getting a chance to play even a fraction of them.
Characters are great. But what about some other NPC characters? The ordinary folk of Laketown and Dale can be included from our background plots. Can I offer a few of mine and invite more contributions?
1.Raddle the horse trader. Laketown. A rogue and a swindler. Has stables in Dale, but is diversifying into travel goods and transport between the head of the Lake and Dale. Persuade 3. Stealth 2. Raddle has a distinctive greenwood cane with a golden pommel that he values greatly - as it was the last possession of value of his first rival (who became bankrupt in uncertain dealings).
2.Dwerfin the Jem Cutter. Erebor, Dale and Laketown. Dwarf of Iron Hills and jewellery trader/manufacturer. Skills: Craft 4. Insight 3 (precious stones & objects 5). Traits: Financial mind; hard bargainer; Weapon Skill: Dagger 2. Dwerfin has a set of crystal lenses that enable him to examine objects close up. Standing = 5 Noble & wealthy Dwarf. Friend/companion of Dain (consultant to Erebor Treasury). Flaw: Like the Elven king a passion for gems and crystals (banned from Thranduil’s palace following an unfortunate situation when he was found too close to the unlocked door of a treasury there). Ex-president of the Erebor Assay Guild.
3.Marilla the Beorning baker, resident at Laketown. Craft 4 (cooking). She owns reclaimed fields on the shore of the Long Lake - full of varieties of wheat and of rye used in her bread making. These fields have beehives, which double as guards. There is a clear link to Beorn himself here, but what else do they share other than recipes?
4.Lothgar the Tanner, whose shop is built along the shoreline of the Lake. His leather goods are well spoken of. He can refine leather armour – for a price - into, say, Awe inspiring qualities (+1Awe rolls), or into particularly cut-resistant materials (+1 Bonus to protection rolls), or lightweight armours (-1 or -2 enc). Raddle the horse trader is indebted to Lothgar for the gift of a suit of leather armour that moves SO quietly...
5.Liefster and Fornald. A pair of ferrymen/boatmen who will take anyone across the Lake. They know a lot of gossip and also take the opportunity to fish for the rarer fish varieties only found far out on the Lake. Traits: Boating; fishing; Travel (Laketown area) 3; Weatherwise (gets the weather forecast correct more than most); Well-Spoken/Merry – they get their customers to chat freely while on board. [Both are in fact agents for the (new) Master of Laketown and these two often moor up for the night near to that House...] They will not (they say) cross the Dragon Water.
6.Joala the Artist and Scribe. Has a real passion for cartography. Can be employed to produce maps. Is always interested in expanding her knowledge of Middle Earth: this is sometimes distorted by the tall tales of travellers. Joala cannot walk far or quickly (is lamed from Smaug’s attack on Esgaroth) so her wanderlust is being resolved with this work. Craft 3; Persuade 3; Explore 2; Lore 5(mirkwood,anduin)
7.Maedreil. Wood Elf of Mirkwood. Wine purchaser for Thranduil. Friend of Raft elves. Good orator (Awe 3); Sharp-eyed and Keen sense of smell and of taste; (Awareness 3); Lore 4 (Dorwinion to Dale; Wine; Weatherwise;) Insight 3; Weapons skill Dagger 2; Spear 3; Flaw: Proud; Dislike for Woodmen they lack fine taste! [Tolerance -1]
and I haven't mentioned Marnick and Froar the builders....
Ideally I'd like to see the complete Trade Book of addresses and occupations like the one printed and sold by the Palantir Communications Company of Numenor before the Akallabeth... (too much to ask?)
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Glorelendil
- Posts: 5140
- Joined: Mon Jan 13, 2014 5:20 pm
Re: Colorful Characters
Love it! Thanks for sharing.
The Munchkin Formerly Known as Elfcrusher
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