MiddleEarthRoze

The Lord of the Rings: The Age of Men

Thought I'd give this a bump considering we could do with some more players! The IC hasn't moved much and new characters can easily be introduced, so don't let it dissuade you if you're interested. :)

The Lord of the Rings: The Age of Men

@FernStone@POOHEAD189@babbysama
Well waddya know, I got the post done! With another post incoming by my good co-GM @BurningCold who will be describing our silent colony, our mystery will unfold very soon. :)

@The Muse of Eru
Check in for Nehanda please!

The Lord of the Rings: The Age of Men

As the group slowly grew, Elennína became both more at ease, but more tense. The phrase; "The more, the merrier" sprung to mind, particularly in the dark forests of Southern Mirkwood. But while camaraderie brought with it warmth and perhaps even cheer (Definitely cheer, if the two jolly Hobbits that followed their surly counterpart back to the clearing were anything to go by - the additional Elf who had arrived also seemed far more pleasant than her current Eldar companions), it also meant a larger and noisier target for outside foes. Even without the mystery of Dôr-min-Taur casting paranoia in her mind, the denizens of this forest were hardly something tame. Giant spiders, goblins travelling from the Misty Mountains, trolls, bats, wolves... the list went on, and Elennína did not wish to tarry much longer.

"We must press on. Introductions can continue as we walk - regardless of what may have happened to the colony, it may still be a safer place to rest than the midst of the forest." Slinging her bow back over her head, Elennína stared into the darkness before her, where the trees grew thicker and blocked out the dying sunlight above. Although dark now, the last thing the group needed was to be travelling at night. The sun chased away more foulness than they knew until midnight approached. "Ardhalon - take the rear. Amran, Belós, the flanks." Ardhalon looked less than pleased at his task, but nodded stiffly and did as he was told. The latter two had previously been whispering to one another in their native Silvan language, eyeing up the Rohîr; as she knew how much the young brothers liked to gossip, she had no doubt they were wondering where his father got the title of Elf-Tongue. Before the group began to move, she turned to Húldas to answer his query. "I'm afraid I don't know of your brother; I've never been to the colony myself, and I'm simply here on behalf of a friend. I can only hope that the directions she gave me were sound." Her voice was blunt, as per usual - but there was a hint of sympathy there. She could understand what it was like to lose a brother, and she could only pray that everyone found their quarries alive and unharmed. At that, she unsheathed her fine Elven longsword, Amaford, and looked back towards the treeline.

After giving a brief nod to Lhindél and the two unnamed Hobbits, Elennína began leading the group onwards. If any were still hiding in the shadows, they could stay or follow; they only thing she cared about was getting to Dôr-min-Taur in one piece... and without getting lost. However, as time pressed on and the group continued to move, it would seem the directions given to her by Míriel were accurate. Even with how close together the trees were, they were much thinner than they had been before. The ground gave way to well-trodden paths, and signs of people began to appear here and there. A scarf caught on a bough, listing lazily in the breeze; initials on a tree trunk with messy stick figures, clearly carved by children; a makeshift sign, saying something along the lines of "Stop stealing my conkers" near a young chestnut tree. It wasn't long before the marks in the dirt gave way to a solid road, and as the trees suddenly thinned out, the group came upon Dôr-min-Taur.

Despite the stories that Elennína had heard about this place, she couldn't help but look upon it in awe. She had expected a small area; perhaps two or three acres, surrounded by a makeshift wall of wooden spikes no larger than fifteen feet. Instead what the group saw was a towering construct of dark stone, easily thirty feet high and stretching in both directions farther than even Elennína could see. "Perhaps they were not so foolish after all... these walls would keep out even the most adventurous of spiders." Above, one could see parapets, and holes here and there along the wall likely for shooting arrows or pouring hot oil on enemies.

"We should climb up - take a look around." The voice Ardhalon suggested, his tone matching the awe and surprise that Elennína felt. She considered the option for a moment, before glancing around to look at the others. If it had been just the four Elves, she wouldn't have hesitated... but leaving a group like this waiting out in the open was too dangerous, especially with the dark treeline so nearby.

"We're standing on a road; the gates won't be too far away." She replied, her eyes following faded wheel marks in the dirt to see which way to go. Left bore harsher marks than right, so that was the direction she took. As expected, the gates were only ten minutes away from where they had found the colony walls, and they too were magnificent. Standing tall at fifteen feet and made of a strong, fragrant olive wood, carvings had been made on the outside. Dwarves, Elves, Hobbits and Humans were all depicted on it, laughing and dancing, surrounded by food and wealth. Words bordered the picture in all the tongues of Middle-Earth, all giving the same message. Welcome, friends. As she reached out the stroke the delicate words, she hesitated. The door bore no outside damage, and yet, it was unlocked. Not just that, but it was open. From inside what was undoubtedly a larger compound than thought before, there was silence. A silent colony and an open gate could mean only two things; the people had fled, or they were still within... wordless for some spine-chilling reason.

The Lord of the Rings: The Age of Men

Sorry for the delay again folks, been in a writing rut pretty recently. I'm behind on all but one of my RPs, so I apologise for that. Figure it's best to keep you guys updated rather than just leaving you hanging - IC post will be coming soon, and I'll apologise in advance if it's not up to standard. Writer's block sucks. :(

Escaping the Blight: A Collaboration of POOHEAD189 & MiddleEarthRoze

To see him smile - even a small one - was comforting after telling the story of her birth. One never picks where or to who they're born, so she always tried to avoid judging people for wherever they grew up. It was nice to see Rannon had the same kindness, although as he continued the conversation, a familiar look of ice appeared in his eye. She didn't have to have been with him long to recognise it, and what brought it about. She was sure he'd act very hound-like if he got his hands on Loghain... she couldn't think of anyone else that would bring out that cold look in his grey eyes.

"Your life must have held more than that." Feri began, hoping to perhaps coax some more memories out of him. She could tell he was suffering from loss - likely due to Ostagar - but it did no good to avoid memories surrounding that which had been lost. You started to forget all the good things and times surrounding it, and suddenly, you find yourself with just bitterness over losing them in the first place. Something once thought fondly of should never turn into that. "I know what you Fereldan's are like with learning how to fight at a young age; understandable, with everything your country has been through. But your life must have contained more than just learning how to follow orders and use a sword. How about you tell me about Ironbrook? What was life like there?" It seemed only fair that he'd spill some beans about his past, considering the controversial backstory she'd just given on herself. Still, Feri gave him a warm smile, hoping that could ease him slightly. She would hate to make him uncomfortable.

@POOHEAD189

Starkissed

@Mae

I did mention some info about Mordwin Tribe, but it was scattered amongst the backstory. I've written something more concise below. :)

Hider

The Mordwin Tribe started out many years ago as a simple caravan of hunters. As time grew on, this group grew, as did their source of income. Jobs branched out into other areas, and soon it had become a small society of nomads, increasing in size and wealth with each passing year. By the time a few centuries had passed, the group had become a tribe of it's own; named Mordwin for the first hunter who founded the caravan it started out as, it now contained several hundred people, all of varying social statuses and vocations.

The tribe is known more for it's wandering than anything else, though it is famously good at hunting... And pillaging, when lands are sparse. They haven't incurred the wrath of any large, important tribes as of yet, but it is a possibility. Their Chieftain - Tereseus - is a childless, middle aged man. Although a jovial sort, he doesn't hesitate in taking what his tribe needs to survive, be it by force or otherwise.

The Lord of the Rings: The Age of Men

@FernStone

You're good for a few hours to get a post up - today was unexpectedly busy so my post will take a while. :)

Starkissed

Iakobos / Nyonwë / God of Faith, Diligence, and Intelligence

⍚ Iakobos ⥥ 32 ⥥ Male ⥥ Heterosexual ⍚

"It takes faith to believe your God will save you. It takes intelligence to realise that your God will do this not through divine intervention, but through the labours of others."

---

---

𝔐y 𝔐ortal ℭ𝔬𝔦𝔩

---

---

[ ⍚ ] A _{P P E A R A N C E}

---

"For what Iakobos lacks in build, he makes up for in his height - standing at 6'7", he usually towers above others in his tribe, and has dealt with more than a few "how's-the-weather-up-there" jokes in his lifetime. As a teenager, the best term to describe him was gangly; ungainly and ungraceful with too long limbs as he grew. Thankfully, as adulthood approached, Iakobos has become more comfortable in his own skin. Long strides are confident rather than stumbling, and his frame has some wiry muscle packed onto it to lessen his look of awkward boniness. His face has retained this sharpness, and as nothing other than fat will change that, he's happy to keep it that way. Over-consumption is not an admirable trait.

The resting face of Iakobos would best be described as stoic, to a degree. His dark brown eyes look oddly bright underneath sharp brows, and with a hood usually pulled over his head and face, shadows often accentuate his sharp features. High cheekbones, a strong, narrow nose, and tight-lipped smiles give off an air of coolness. Iakobos' baritone voice only adds to this, what with his tones being mellow and calm - his pitch or volume rarely change, even when amused or angered. To hear him laugh much is rare, but if a chuckle is brought from him, his shadowed face seems to spring to life just a bit more.

As for his clothing, he favours robes, and hoods are often seen hiding his hair. While he keeps his brown curls washed as much as possible, they are fairly untameable. He prefers to simply tie the shoulder-length locks up and hide them away. The robes themselves are practical for his work, versatile for dealing with various changes in weather, and also quite comfortable to sleep in. Not to mention it's amazing how many small weapons one can hide in the folds of the cloth. Iakobos has a fair few in different colours, but tries to keep them as muted as possible. Bright yellows and reds are not appropriate wear for one who enjoys avoiding attention.

Iakobos' curse mark is no longer visible, after having been covered up by a tattoo. Originally, the mark was a spiral, located on his left shoulder-blade, but was covered over and made into the likeness of a sun. When his powers are used, the spiral extends and mutates, tendrils coming from it and burning into his skin. As time goes on and the mark grows with his usage of powers, he experiences terrible chest pains. When the tendrils have taken up most of his back, neck, and worked it's way around to his chest, he is close to death; once it reaches his heart, he'll not survive long. "

[ ⍚ ] P _{E R S O N A L I T Y}

---

"Although Iakobos can often come across as aloof or cold, this is generally just a byproduct of his tendency to seek isolation. While certainly not against having friends, he's never been one to draw attention to himself. At festivals, he can usually be seen on the fringes of various events, drinking alone, but still generally having an enjoyable time. Small talk with strangers and acquaintances is exactly that - very small indeed. While he may come across as disinterested, Iakobos simply is a man of few words. When it comes to those he doesn't know very well, anyway. Politeness and even kindness is a constant for him, unless speaking with someone who doesn't deserve it. Amongst friends however, he has a tendency to open up. A more colourful personality takes the front when with those he likes, as a love for poetry, music and art flows free from the once quiet individual. Iakobos does have passion in his heart, particularly for those artist talents that can't be learnt or taught, but for that natural flair which individuals are born with.

Typically, Iakobos is very much involved with his work, so enjoying moments with friends is sometimes a rare occasion for him. He never tells people why he puts so much time into his work as a healer, but that is perhaps because he doesn't know the answer himself. Whether because he wants to avoid going back to an empty home after a long day, or simply just to keep up some form of purpose in his life, Iakobos isn't entirely sure. Either way, these rare moments away from his work are generally spent alone."

[ ⍚ ] B _{I O G R A P H Y}

---

"The Mordwin Tribe started out many years ago as a simple caravan of hunters. As time grew on, this group grew, as did their source of income. Jobs branched out into other areas, and soon it had become a small society of nomads, increasing in size and wealth with each passing year. By the time Iakobos was born to Petyr and Athis, the group had become a tribe of it's own; named Mordwin for the first hunter who founded the caravan it started out as, it now contained several hundred people, all of varying social statuses and vocations. As for Iakobos' family, they were considered quite at the top of the food chain in this wandering clan. Not quite the Leaders, but close enough to have certain values to uphold. One of these was for Iakobos to join the Chieftain's guard and become his Head Advisor when he grew old enough - a fine position, reserved for only the bravest and wisest; but what made the position even more beneficial was their current Tribe Leader had no heir. Petyr hoped that with getting his own son to bond with the Chief, his family could inherit the position at the time of the Chieftain's death.

Iakobos was not happy with this arrangement.

While his father wanted him to fight, Iakobos wanted to learn more about the outside world; the other tribes, the static ones. He also developed a keen interest in healing, due to his mother's tendency to help out the Clan's healer and midwife when they needed assistance. Thankfully for Iakobos, Athis persuaded Petyr to let him learn the things he wanted (saying it would aid him when it came to the advisory role his father wanted for him) - on the condition he also learnt the skills Petyr demanded. Although not particularly happy with the situation, Iakobos couldn't deny that learning to fight and hunt were undoubtedly useful skills, particularly in a tribe like his own. Constantly moving was dangerous business, but it was what the people were used to - they had no reason to suddenly change their way of life.

As time passed, this understanding between Iakobos and his father grew stale. The role as Head Advisor may be an influential position, but Iakobos did not want it - his skill as a healer was growing, and he knew he could help more people by going into that work. His father couldn't accept this, and the two were constantly at blows. The arguments would have been a semi-permanent thing, were it not for the tragic end to Athis. Pregnant with twins, she died in childbirth after complications, the male twin dying with her and the female one barely clinging to life. Several months after her death, Petyr was still distraught and nearly mad with grief over the loss of his wife and son. His daughter - named Isadora - had been nursed to full strength thanks to what Iakobos had learnt. Although grateful for his eldest's skill, Petyr couldn't convey it properly. The two had fought for so long, it was hard for him to show anything positive without coming across as condescending. Errant words of praise turned into digs, and as soon as Isadora had turned one, Petyr was back to hounding his son for taking the job as advisor. Eventually the two came to blows, and after a raging argument, Petyr threatened to disown Iakobos if he did not do as he was told. In the Mordwin Tribe, disownment was a dreadful thing to threaten. It was not just from the family, but from the entire Tribe - they would become exiled, left to fend for themselves. If they were spotted, everyone in the Tribe had permission to kill the disowned individual. Iakobos would normally ignore such a threat, even with how serious it was - but Petyr was still ridden with grief over the death of his beloved, and the son who never got to grow up. He feared that his father would make good on his threat... and so, Iakobos would leave of his own accord.

Now as a man at the age of 18, Iakobos left the clan that night, not thinking clearly in his own grief. By the time he had changed his mind about leaving, it was hopeless to go back. Days had passed, and the clan would have moved on. Even he wanted to, Iakobos didn't dare try to find the clan again; is his father had followed through on his threat of disownment, then his life would be at risk. Trying to ignore his regret, Iakobos went on westwards, hoping to find a new home.

After several years of wandering; visiting various different clans and building on his experience as a nomadic healer, he finally settled in Longear Tribe at the age of 27. The position of apprentice healer was vacant, and he had more than enough experience to take the job - although distrusted at first as a stranger, the people of the tribe eventually got used to him, and his skill has only grown since then. Now Head healer after the death of his teacher, Iakobos is somewhat apprehensive at going to this gathering of clans. Typically, the Mordwin Tribe never went to these gatherings, but times change. Rules dictate that exiles are not to be killed at gatherings such as these, as the ground is neutral... but he can't help but wonder what would happen should he reunite his father, or the sister he never got to know."

Memories Retained: Ignore for now

---

---

𝔐y ℑmmortal 𝔖𝔬𝔲𝔩

---

---

---

⍚ Nyonwë ⥥ God of Faith, Diligence & Intelligence ⥥ Male ⥥ Pansexual ⍚
_{Dark God}

<All ye be wary of the lone vagrant traveller on the roads; for a simple beggar-man he may not be. Tales tell of noblemen and rich ladies, shunning him as he begs for food in exchange for his last coin. They were foolish, for Nyonwë knows all faith. All errant prayers, blasphemers, heretics and supposed do-gooders are known to him, as are their actions. Those who defy the words of their God, or claim virtues when sin only remains, will incur the wrath of Nyonwë. Such noble lords and ladies who deny charity, are denying their Gods whom they worship - and are also denying Him. His justice is quick and fervent, and all those who fail him and their Gods' words will fall.>

The Traveller's Warning: Author Unknown

[ ⍚ ] G_{O D L Y A P P E A R A N C E}

---

"In most occurrences, Nyonwë would appear to mortals in an image of themselves; a simple man, unremarkable in most aspects. His cloth was poor, his face average, and he carried nothing but a single coin with him. In most legends, this was done to test people; supposed holy men and women that should be just and charitable to all, or however their specific religion dictated. If they passed him by while ignoring his pleas (For no good reason, that is) his image would shift into that of a tall warrior-priest. Eyes and hands glowing with ethereal light, armour pieces appear over his once ragged robes, and a shining mace manifests out of thin air. His presence becomes awesome to look upon, and most mortals find themselves unable to look him in the eye, some throwing themselves to the ground in an attempt to avoid looking at his image. For other immortals, this effect of discomfort rarely affects them, unless they are particularly dark."

[ ⍚ ] K _{N O W N F O R}

---

• Faith, Hope, & Religion
• Sins & Virtues
• Learning, Memory, Deduction
• Intelligence
• Diligence, Stamina & Perseverance
• Sacrifices, Prayers, and other methods of Worship
• The realms of the Gods; their rules, their divine will, and their actions.
• The legend of the Holy Grail

[ ⍚ ] F _{O R M A T I V E M O M E N T S I N H I S T O R Y}

---

"As it stands, Nyonwë was never known for much unless it had something to do with another God. While he was a patron of intelligence and hard work, his main domain was that of faith, and ensuring that mortals kept in line with what they had pledged to do or be for their particular God. Some deities thrived from sacrifices or offerings, and it was down to Nyonwë to ensure this happened. While particular Gods could invoke their wrath if feeling angry, it was Nyonwë who remained ever watchful. No stone went unturned when it came to his upholding of holy laws... but as time passed, things began to grow lax.

More and more mortals were disobeying their Gods, but what made it worse was that some Gods themselves stopped caring. They had grown over-indulgent, happy with their powers and to just let things be. The one thing that made people even care about Nyonwë was fading. Those praying for aid in diligence were turning to Gods of War, Toil, or Work. Those wanting Intelligence would pray to Gods of Invention; of the Arts, of Language, of Wisdom or Memory.

He was becoming obsolete. Unknown, unimportant, pointless. The God of Faith began to lose it himself, and in desperation, turned against those holy rules that he held so dear. The Gods needed to learn humility, as did the humans. When word reached him of the Dark Gods and their deeds, Nyonwë was at first believed to be one of their main opponents. But instead, he joined them; in his mind, casting the Gods down would teach them humbleness, and perhaps the lack of the Gods and their divine actions on earth would show the mortals the error in their ways. But guilt overcame Nyonwë as he saw the full extent of their actions. Starkissed were being torn from one another, and in his moments of blind vengeance, he discovered that his too had been cast down and cursed. Deciding that he no longer deserved to bear the mantle of immortality, Nyonwë followed his fallen kin, to live our the rest of his days as a mortal."

---

---

𝔐y 𝔊ifts 𝔚𝔦𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫

---

---

[ ⍚ ] S _{K I L L S E T}

---

Three General skills to start and up to two combat abilities. Due to the setting you may also have 1 Survival ability.

• Scholar: Thanks to his background, Iakobos is able to read and write.
• Healer: Following his training, and then several years of experience, Iakobos is quite skilled in aiding the hurt and ill. Medicines, surgery and emergency first-aid are his forte.
• Observer: Due to his quiet nature - and the necessity of keeping a keen eye on patients - Iakobos' skill in perception has been honed over the years; as such, he knows quite a few rumours.

• Hunter: Belonging to a wandering tribe meant that hunting was far more important, due to a lack of crops to farm from. Iakobos learn alongside his sister how to hunt properly, but due to his lack of experience with a bow, prefers to use traps rather than tracking down actual prey.
• Swordsman: Thanks to formal training paid by his father, Iakobos has some decent skill with a sword. While no expert, it's certainly enough to defend himself out in the wilds.
• Stave-master: It is instead with the staff that his true talent lies. The length of wood allows him to attack those that would otherwise be out of reach, whilst avoiding their own blows. He has become quite adept at wielding it, and is capable of landing painful, or even fatal blows, with it.

[ ⍚ ] A _{B I L I T I E S}

---

These will unlock as we continue.

Life Force: 0/0 (ignore for now)

Ability 1: Psychometry
Intelligence is defined as the ability to acquire and apply knowledge and skills; Iakobos can take advantage of this, as he searches the minds of others and take what they have learnt.

The Hills Have Eyes: Information can be pulled from inanimate objects to see events that have transpired before them. The less energy (Or life) the object has, the less clear the image will be in Iakobos' mind. Additionally, the more time that has passed since the event will cause the image to deteriorate.
The World is Watching: Information to answer a simple question can be pulled from the mind of an intelligent being, so long as they are willing. Only a vague sense of action and memory can be witnessed, without emotion or feeling.
Mind Meld: Information can be swapped with a being; if Iakobos wants someone to understand something very quickly, he can meld either his mind or another's to theirs, allowing the information to essentially be downloaded. While it has the ability to be very powerful, the melding of minds must be done with consent by all parties. An unwilling mind cannot take part in this process.

Ability 2: Perseverance
Subjects dedicate their time and effort to achieve a goal... whether they want to or not.

Rigour: One's fatigue slips away as they are imbued with a new sense of purpose and commitment.
Coalition: A group of people are suddenly able to work together for a common cause they believe in, as they set aside all disagreements until their task is complete.
Labourer's Lament: A person is forced to toil away at a labourer's task, whether they really want to or not, for either until the task is complete or for the duration of a day. Pain and fatigue disappear while doing so, but this can prove detrimental as injuries are not lost during this time.

Ability 3: Faith
Most people have faith, including Iakobos himself. No matter how small, it can be used - for just or unjust needs.

Mark Against Evil: Items and people can be blessed with holy magic to ward away evil and the dark.
Forceful Followers: Iakobos can turn up to twenty unwilling mortal individuals into his own followers; cursing them to become dangerous zealots who's only purpose in life is to serve him.
Godly Justice: Iakobos takes on the form of his previous, immortal life; glowing with a brilliant holy light, he is imbued with his godly strength and can use it to fight enemies and protect others. However, since his actions as a Dark God, he is no longer immune to his own holy powers - he becomes consumed by the light as it eats away at his own corruption.

[ ⍚ ] I _{N V E N T O R Y}

---

• Some medicinal herbs and poultices
• First aid kit containing a cauterising set, bandages, needle & thread, and scalpels amongst other things.
• Rope; for creating traps
• 6-foot long stave; weighted at one end to create a harder point to hit with.
• A medium sized, thin blade.
• A couple of small knives hidden about his robes.

[ ⍚ ] O _{T H E R}

---

Colour Code: darkseagreen, and #55867d.
The Chieftain of the Mordwin Tribe is called Tereseus.

[ ⍚ ] R _{E L A T I O N S H I P S}

---

Will you participate in the Relationship Assignment?: Yeet
This section will be replaced with a Relation Sheet.

Starkissed

@Mae
For Stalana's rerolled ones, you've put down Aurelia, but tagged someone else - just wondering if the character is right or the roleplayer. :)

The Lord of the Rings: The Age of Men

@FernStone@POOHEAD189@BurningCold@babbysama@The Muse of Eru

Alright folks, if you haven't posted already, you have a day to do so, and also finish up the introductions. I don't want to keep everyone waiting for too long, so I'll be moving the group along to the colony in my next post. :)