Eóhild, proud to had been chosen by his lord for such an important quest, guide his mount, Harafuld, alogn the road.
He rides first, with his spear resting on the stirrup of his saddle and the point shimmeting in the sun light. He has removed his helmet, for he wants to feel the warmth of the sun and the wind in his face, his blond hair reflecting the light. He smiles as they crosses the doors of Helm's Deep and salute the guards blowing his horn.
Lumorndir perks up as they begin their journey into the wilds. His tense form relaxes somewhat now that he is beyond the human city and back within nature where he belongs. One hand strays to his weapons quickly checking they are in place and ready when needed. His gaze quickly shifts across the horizon checking for any anomalies.
A rider sits upon a brown steed, longsword on her right hip and spear held upright, keeping an eye on the road while being lost in her own thoughts. Her chain mail glints in the noon sun. She wears a gray cloak with its cowl thrown back. Her brown hair is shoulder length, she has a strong looking face and piercing gray eyes and you can see that she definitely has elvish blood in her.
As Gilraen rides she thinks to herself "it was difficult to convince the council to send me on this quest. However, I will prove that they were right to send me". Then pulling herself out of her contemplations, she turns to face her companions.
She speaks with a surprisingly deep, low voice. "Well met fellow travellers. My name is Gilraen Rhodhelm from the land of Rohan. Who might you be and where do you hail from?
OOC: Shouldn't our characters have already intoduced themselves at the Council?
Alongside you rides Odvarr of Dale. He is a tall man with a stern, clean-shaven face, whose grey eyes peep out from underneath thick, bristling brows. His coiled golden locks are shorn about his shoulders. He is clad in a travel-stained fur cloak, under which the glint of mail can be seen, and absurdly large black boots. On his back is a great shield emblazoned with the emblem of Dale, and on his belt is a longsword.
Marvelled by such variety of companions, Herman keeps on his own, riding silently with pike in his hand.
He is a medium tall man, in his twenties, with a thin black beard, deep green eyes. he is wearing a cloak made of wolf-skin and the helmet is indeed the wide-open mouth of the wolf, from which comes out some tuft of brown curly hair.
All in his appearance makes him look wild even if when he talks he speaks a perfect Ovestron, with a little northern accent.
he is usually silent except when he feels there is something important to say or if it is time to party
Definetely not party time , he thinks, even if he enjoys his companions, especially the bard for the skill of playing.
If asked, he tells is from thw woodsmen of Mirkwood, his father the chief of his clan. In his youth , as a demonstration of loyalty, he has been sent to study in Gondor
Sometimes I felt more like an hostage, if you ask me, but I got accustomed to Gondor, his great river and the great mountains...still, I am a northmen, no doubt
In Gondor he speicliased in the warfare, as it sounds fair for his lineage, joining the army tecniques to his brute attitude.
"Don't you recgonize me Gilraen? I am Eóhil son of Eólhem, and I ride with my lord Eómers Éored. "
" My apologies Eohil. I recognise you now. How did you come to be here?"
OCC: I don't know how to add spoilers on my phone but FrandalSilvereyes your character would know that Gilraen rode under Elfhelm and was dismissed from the Riddermark a few weeks ago.
Marvelled by such variety of companions, Herman keeps on his own, riding silently with pike in his hand.
He is a medium tall man, in his twenties, with a thin black beard, deep green eyes. he is wearing a cloak made of wolf-skin and the helmet is indeed the wide-open mouth of the wolf, from which comes out some tuft of brown curly hair.
All in his appearance makes him look wild even if when he talks he speaks a perfect Ovestron, with a little northern accent.
he is usually silent except when he feels there is something important to say or if it is time to party
Definetely not party time , he thinks, even if he enjoys his companions, especially the bard for the skill of playing.
If asked, he tells is from thw woodsmen of Mirkwood, his father the chief of his clan. In his youth , as a demonstration of loyalty, he has been sent to study in Gondor
Sometimes I felt more like an hostage, if you ask me, but I got accustomed to Gondor, his great river and the great mountains...still, I am a northmen, no doubt
In Gondor he speicliased in the warfare, as it sounds fair for his lineage, joining the army tecniques to his brute attitude.
Eventually he speaks:
So, what now?
I think we should get to Minas Ithil as fast as we may, while trying not to alert any servants of mordor of our approach. I suggest we take the road from here to Minas Tirith. It should be safe from the eyes of our enemies until there and it will be the swiftest path.
“ Oh I do recognize you Gilraen. And I must say that I am surprised to see you here. Pleased, if half the histories I have heard from you are true, but surprised... “
Marvelled by such variety of companions, Herman keeps on his own, riding silently with pike in his hand.
He is a medium tall man, in his twenties, with a thin black beard, deep green eyes. he is wearing a cloak made of wolf-skin and the helmet is indeed the wide-open mouth of the wolf, from which comes out some tuft of brown curly hair.
All in his appearance makes him look wild even if when he talks he speaks a perfect Ovestron, with a little northern accent.
he is usually silent except when he feels there is something important to say or if it is time to party
Definetely not party time , he thinks, even if he enjoys his companions, especially the bard for the skill of playing.
If asked, he tells is from thw woodsmen of Mirkwood, his father the chief of his clan. In his youth , as a demonstration of loyalty, he has been sent to study in Gondor
Sometimes I felt more like an hostage, if you ask me, but I got accustomed to Gondor, his great river and the great mountains...still, I am a northmen, no doubt
In Gondor he speicliased in the warfare, as it sounds fair for his lineage, joining the army tecniques to his brute attitude.
Eventually he speaks:
So, what now?
I think we should get to Minas Ithil as fast as we may, while trying not to alert any servants of mordor of our approach. I suggest we take the road from here to Minas Tirith. It should be safe from the eyes of our enemies until there and it will be the swiftest path.
"Aye," Odvarr chimes in. "This seems like the wisest course of action. If needed, we can stop to resupply in the hamlets of Rohan and the beacons of Gondor."
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Yes. Does everyone agree to this course of action? Should we travel as fast as we can or go slower to not attract attention?
OCC: I would like to keep an eye out for anything stalking or following us, and look for signs of orcs or other things having gone before us. Survival 19 or perception 10
OCC: do I know how long it will take us to get to Edoras and Minas Tirith?
“ Oh I do recognize you Gilraen. And I must say that I am surprised to see you here. Pleased, if half the histories I have heard from you are true, but surprised... “
I came upon the council by chance, and thought that I could serve its purpous well. I must say I am surprised to see you as well Eohil. How did you come to be on this quest. What have you heard of me? And perhaps the more pertinent question is whom did you hear it from?
“My Lord Elmer himself asked me if I would volunteer for a dangerous yet important mission. He only had to ask. And for you... I have heard that you got problems lately but I paid little heed to stable boys and soldiers gossip you know. “ Eohild smiles to his compatriot.
“ Now on our course of action I agree. We should travel the Riddlemark towards Gondor as fast as possible, but remember, we shouldn’t announce our porpouse now that we are on route and once we enter the Southern Kingdom I would advise caution and trying to cross it as unnoticed as we can. “
"I see. I think he has chosen well to send you. It is good to know that I still have friends in the Riddermark." Gilraen returns the smile. "I was worried that you might have been sent by that snake Grima Wormtongue."
Riding at the tail end of the party and keeping to himself. A slim man, his skin a tawny beige, hair a deep olive, he held himself with firm posture, not stiff, but firm, his keen green eyes darting back and forth between the conversations. Adorned in simple leathers, ochre in color, almost reddish under the noon sun. Marked by no sigils or signs of nobility, unmistakable from a simple traveler if it were not for a peculiar object hung from his belt, a rolled up umber whip.
Accustomed to long rides quite rides by himself he wasn't used to such casual banter, not that he minded though.
He nods along to what appears to be the majority of the groups choice of action.
Aradan rides along at an easy pace in his saddle. He is a tall, lean, and handsome elf, with white-blonde hair that falls across his shoulders. "I am Aradan of Rivendell, and kin to the Lord Elrond. I was sent on a journey south by my lord to provide aid to the rangers of Ithilien and Mithrandir." he says to the others.
He nods along in agreement with the plan the others discuss.
"I am skilled at moving distances unseen. I can perhaps help us avoid notice if that is the path we choose. Spies are everywhere even among friends. Let us be swift and light to our destination. If we must get supplies let us only send a few of the party to retrieve them. This may at least surprise the Enemy when our numbers are greater."
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It has been only a few hours since the party has departed from Helm's Deep heading east (through the road). It is noon and the sun is high in the sky.
At the council, you all have been charged with the mighty quest of halting the corruption of Denethor by seizing the Ithil-stone in Minas Morgul.
hey kids do you like violence? wanna see me shove nine inch nails through each one of my eyelids?
Eóhild, proud to had been chosen by his lord for such an important quest, guide his mount, Harafuld, alogn the road.
He rides first, with his spear resting on the stirrup of his saddle and the point shimmeting in the sun light. He has removed his helmet, for he wants to feel the warmth of the sun and the wind in his face, his blond hair reflecting the light. He smiles as they crosses the doors of Helm's Deep and salute the guards blowing his horn.
PbP Character: A few ;)
Lumorndir perks up as they begin their journey into the wilds. His tense form relaxes somewhat now that he is beyond the human city and back within nature where he belongs. One hand strays to his weapons quickly checking they are in place and ready when needed. His gaze quickly shifts across the horizon checking for any anomalies.
A rider sits upon a brown steed, longsword on her right hip and spear held upright, keeping an eye on the road while being lost in her own thoughts. Her chain mail glints in the noon sun. She wears a gray cloak with its cowl thrown back. Her brown hair is shoulder length, she has a strong looking face and piercing gray eyes and you can see that she definitely has elvish blood in her.
As Gilraen rides she thinks to herself "it was difficult to convince the council to send me on this quest. However, I will prove that they were right to send me". Then pulling herself out of her contemplations, she turns to face her companions.
She speaks with a surprisingly deep, low voice. "Well met fellow travellers. My name is Gilraen Rhodhelm from the land of Rohan. Who might you be and where do you hail from?
"Don't you recgonize me Gilraen? I am Eóhil son of Eólhem, and I ride with my lord Eómers Éored. "
PbP Character: A few ;)
OOC: Shouldn't our characters have already intoduced themselves at the Council?
Alongside you rides Odvarr of Dale. He is a tall man with a stern, clean-shaven face, whose grey eyes peep out from underneath thick, bristling brows. His coiled golden locks are shorn about his shoulders. He is clad in a travel-stained fur cloak, under which the glint of mail can be seen, and absurdly large black boots. On his back is a great shield emblazoned with the emblem of Dale, and on his belt is a longsword.
Marvelled by such variety of companions, Herman keeps on his own, riding silently with pike in his hand.
He is a medium tall man, in his twenties, with a thin black beard, deep green eyes. he is wearing a cloak made of wolf-skin and the helmet is indeed the wide-open mouth of the wolf, from which comes out some tuft of brown curly hair.
All in his appearance makes him look wild even if when he talks he speaks a perfect Ovestron, with a little northern accent.
he is usually silent except when he feels there is something important to say or if it is time to party
Definetely not party time , he thinks, even if he enjoys his companions, especially the bard for the skill of playing.
If asked, he tells is from thw woodsmen of Mirkwood, his father the chief of his clan. In his youth , as a demonstration of loyalty, he has been sent to study in Gondor
Sometimes I felt more like an hostage, if you ask me, but I got accustomed to Gondor, his great river and the great mountains...still, I am a northmen, no doubt
In Gondor he speicliased in the warfare, as it sounds fair for his lineage, joining the army tecniques to his brute attitude.
Eventually he speaks:
So, what now?
,
OCC mistake sorry.
" My apologies Eohil. I recognise you now. How did you come to be here?"
OCC: I don't know how to add spoilers on my phone but FrandalSilvereyes your character would know that Gilraen rode under Elfhelm and was dismissed from the Riddermark a few weeks ago.
I think we should get to Minas Ithil as fast as we may, while trying not to alert any servants of mordor of our approach. I suggest we take the road from here to Minas Tirith. It should be safe from the eyes of our enemies until there and it will be the swiftest path.
“ Oh I do recognize you Gilraen. And I must say that I am surprised to see you here. Pleased, if half the histories I have heard from you are true, but surprised... “
PbP Character: A few ;)
"Aye," Odvarr chimes in. "This seems like the wisest course of action. If needed, we can stop to resupply in the hamlets of Rohan and the beacons of Gondor."
Yes. Does everyone agree to this course of action? Should we travel as fast as we can or go slower to not attract attention?
OCC: I would like to keep an eye out for anything stalking or following us, and look for signs of orcs or other things having gone before us. Survival 19 or perception 10
OCC: do I know how long it will take us to get to Edoras and Minas Tirith?
Herman agrees with the proposed course of action
,
I came upon the council by chance, and thought that I could serve its purpous well. I must say I am surprised to see you as well Eohil. How did you come to be on this quest. What have you heard of me? And perhaps the more pertinent question is whom did you hear it from?
OCC:Sorry, didn't see your post til now.
“My Lord Elmer himself asked me if I would volunteer for a dangerous yet important mission. He only had to ask. And for you... I have heard that you got problems lately but I paid little heed to stable boys and soldiers gossip you know. “ Eohild smiles to his compatriot.
“ Now on our course of action I agree. We should travel the Riddlemark towards Gondor as fast as possible, but remember, we shouldn’t announce our porpouse now that we are on route and once we enter the Southern Kingdom I would advise caution and trying to cross it as unnoticed as we can. “
PbP Character: A few ;)
"I see. I think he has chosen well to send you. It is good to know that I still have friends in the Riddermark." Gilraen returns the smile. "I was worried that you might have been sent by that snake Grima Wormtongue."
Riding at the tail end of the party and keeping to himself. A slim man, his skin a tawny beige, hair a deep olive, he held himself with firm posture, not stiff, but firm, his keen green eyes darting back and forth between the conversations. Adorned in simple leathers, ochre in color, almost reddish under the noon sun. Marked by no sigils or signs of nobility, unmistakable from a simple traveler if it were not for a peculiar object hung from his belt, a rolled up umber whip.
Accustomed to long rides quite rides by himself he wasn't used to such casual banter, not that he minded though.
He nods along to what appears to be the majority of the groups choice of action.
Aradan rides along at an easy pace in his saddle. He is a tall, lean, and handsome elf, with white-blonde hair that falls across his shoulders. "I am Aradan of Rivendell, and kin to the Lord Elrond. I was sent on a journey south by my lord to provide aid to the rangers of Ithilien and Mithrandir." he says to the others.
He nods along in agreement with the plan the others discuss.
Roland Drask: Human Rogue - Lost Mine of Phandelver
"I am skilled at moving distances unseen. I can perhaps help us avoid notice if that is the path we choose. Spies are everywhere even among friends. Let us be swift and light to our destination. If we must get supplies let us only send a few of the party to retrieve them. This may at least surprise the Enemy when our numbers are greater."