Middle Earth

NAME: Mikael Eisenstein

GENDER: Male

AGE: 28

RACE: Human/Sourceror

MAGIC:Primarily a pyromancer but has discovered he can charge things he touch he touches either to use the power later, to strengthen his blows or simply to cause it to explode.

APPEARANCE: While usually only viewed from the distance he has medium length blond hair and stuble. He wears A long black jacket with a hood, a dark green shirt, black trousers and tough animal hide boots worn with use. He carries a longsword and a metal rod.


HISTORY (optional): Born many years after the war of the ring and the defeat of Sauron he lived an initially peaceful child until he accidentally set a boy on fire just by pointing at him. He was Outcast and left to roam using his slowly developing powers to survive. After years wandering alone he was approached by some men of the king. Not knowing who he was they attempted to press gang him into the army. Fearing for his life he set fire to the flag causing them to bolt and run. Ever since he has carried the flag pole using it to devastating effect against the king.

Don't wait for me guys. I'm not sure if I'll be able to do this storybook.
Sorry.

It is in my opinion that we've been allowed to start this, JustDance has just stated that we shouldn't wait. So let us begin.

Ballow

I swung my arms around experimentally, unused to the freedom of my wrists. Just days ago they had been bound by shackles keeping me locked up in a underground prison. But the latest attack on the village had led to my fortunate escape.

A smile widened on my face. I was free again. A little wrist chafe yes, but free. I took a deep breath of the morning air, slightly tainted by the smoke rising form the village's rooftops. It burnt the inside of my nose.

Entwining my fingers I reached up and stretched. How many people could do this if they had done what I had done? The smile rose into a grin, not many. they would've probably been executed for that.

But not me. No, my father would never allow it. And so he carted me off to this random village to be locked away forever. Father never took the time to realise that I couldn't ever be kept up in the same place.

Something in this distance caught my eye. A man standing far away on a hill. His medium length blond hair fluttered in the wind. The only piece of clothing I could place was a long black jacket. It swayed in the wind, lifting and dropping the hood that was connected to it.

The man appeared to be watching the village burning, because surely from where he stood, higher than me, there was a better view of the burning village. Maybe he had been one of the people to light the village on fire?

If that was so he deserved some sort of gratitude. I waved over to him, and he turned his attention to me. He held a metal pole in his hands. I felt my brows draw into a line of confusion. Seeing him clearer he looked around his late 20's or early 30's.

His eyes glinted in the sun, reflecting the image of the flaming village, making it appaear as if there was a fire in his eyes. I gestured for him to meet me at a crevace where the two hills incidentally met.

When we got there I, regaining my better manners, in a courtly, swift movement bowed. The man didn't follow suit. He must be a country man, I figured. Standing up, I gestured to what was now left of the village. Which wasn;t much, just embers and charred remains.

"Do you know what happened here?" I asked pleasantly. I wasn't sure if I could trust this man, the way he stood gave nothing about his personality and so I would have to be cautious. Playing around my prison escape and seeming like a lost ongoer was most likely the smartest option until I knew better.

The man stared at me for a second, the wind blowing both our hair askewer. It felt cool upon my skin and in response my hair stood on end. I shivered, waiting silently for his answer. He stayed quiet and enquringly I glanced at him. He was staring at me as if contemplating something.

Our eyes locked.

(Just in case your wondering, Skull that's your character . . .)

Mikael

"Why whats it to you?" i replied mentally learning his face.
"I was simply wondering who to thank for my freedom." replied the man
"That would be me but i don't need your gratitude. Now tell me are you an ally of the king?" i asked eyeing his clothes. " I am no ally of the king" he replied coldly "and my name is Ballow. Perhaps you have heard of me." he grinned
"I am afraid not, Ballow, it is not often i delve into the simpering filth of mankinds cities. Now may i be so bold as to ask why you were incarcerated in one of the Kings villages?" I placed my hand on sword wary of his reply.

Anorian

There were five of them in the glade. Anorian, Alastriona, and three others from Lorien. Hunting was a dangerous task in South Mirkwood, and that was what prevented any one of them going alone. There were another thirty elves back at the main encampment, but this glade was dangerously close to the shadows of Dol Guldur.

The rumours that corrupted creatures still roamed the shadows of this area had never been confirmed, nor had they ever been quashed. While Sauron was dead, Anorian's belief was that his servants still haunted this place.

"Watch your backs." He said, "I don't like the looks of this place. Even without men being here."

Alastriona and two of the other elves set arrows to their bows and drew them, while Anorian drew his knives, holding the one in his right hand loosely, ready to throw it at a moment's notice.

Lalaith

I leaned against a large rock at the base of a tree. The forest was quiet at this time of day, only allowing the soft songs of birds to disturb the silence. I had been climbing around the rocky ground of the forest all day, stumbling over gnarled roots and rotting logs. I had even stumbled into the river once. Now, I was exhausted. I was looking for the young, willowy girl I had seen the other day. She had been running through the trees, and I had only caught a quick, but detailed, glimpse of her before she was gone. Her hair had been brown, and she looked like she had been living in the forest awhile, for she knew where to jump over the narrowest part of the river. And she was human.

I had puzzled over her all night, wondering why a human girl would be living in Fangorn. When I voiced my thoughts to my friend, Wilwarin, she said not to bother about the girl, because there were more important things to think about. Such as scouting out whether the smoke we had seen out in the plains was from a camp of men. Technically, that was what I was supposed to be doing. But since when had I done what I was told?

Nyxe


Nyxe hurriedly stuffed some food and a few belongings into a bag, fear quickening her every move. A bounty hunter, of course, had caught onto her trail again. They were filling the Misty Mountains. It wouldn't be safe much longer to stay there. She pulled her hood tightly over her head and headed out the back window of the miniscule hut. As she ran down a path along the side of the mountain a peasant leading a mule which pulled a cart of hey.

"Sir, let me hide in your load," Nyxe said, slightly out of breath. The man looked her over, and when he realized who she was, said,

"Hurry."

Nyxe smiled in gratitude, her mouth being the only thing visible in her hood. She scrambled deep into the hay just as the hunter cam running down.

"Has Coamenel gone through here?" his voice gruff and showing the he wasn't used to phyisical exertion. That was odd...

The man was silent, and shook his head. They started to move downhill again, Nyxe not daring to move until they stopped.

Alastriona~Elf:

She held her bow steady; years of practice on her side. Three elves followed behind her and she made her way next to Anorian.

"Anorian, are you sure this was the right course to have taken." Her voice was little more than a whisper. She knew he hated it when she questioned his judgement. He nodded, visibly frustrated.

"Ready yourselves,"Alastriona called back to the others and signaled for them to keep up.

They continued on, snaking through underbrush. She was about to ask Anorian another question when a sudden twig snapped, diverting her attention. In one split second her arrow was launched through the air, only to lodge itself into a tree. Right where a deer had been standing moments ago. Beside the silver arrow gleamed Anorian's knife and she couldn't help but grin as he trudged to retrieve his weapon.

Morton

The colours were fading from Gondor. Morton sat on the Pelennor fields, and he sat quietly with his eyes staring at Minas Tirith. Between a rock, he fidgeted, wondering how long it would be before a guard or two approached him. But he sat nonetheless.

The city watched him. It had once been white. The colours of the sun had mirrored the pure skin into the sky and the clouds had been lightened by the reflection. Fountain guards had stood next to a green stretch of grass, like carpet, the root of their country with their spears tipped with gold.

Perhaps it had changed. Perhaps not. He had only bee once to Minas Tirith, the day when the new king was coronated and the black abyss of mordor had sank into the centre of the Earth. Smashed by fire and ruin.

Nothing left. Nothing for me.

'Come on,' he said to the plains. 'Come on. Stand up for yourself.'

Night was growing and the streets to Osgiliath were like the havens of ghosts. Morton rose to his feet and he paced over to it. Long had ruin smote the buildings. It had never been rebuilt and in there was no one. It took him a while to reach but sa he passed through the gates he was drowned in sadness. Beauty had gone. The love was melted away.

The roads dead like driftwood. And Osgiliath was drifting away from the mortal worlds. Drifting into peace. Morton envied it.

Anorian

He slid his hand gracefully around the curved hilt of his knife, pulling it free from the trunk. He inspected the point carefully for damage. Nothing a little sharpening couldn't fix tonight.

He caught her grinning as he turned around, "Enjoying yourself?"

She shrugged a little. He scoffed, "And as for your previous question, I'm perfectly sure that this was the right way to go. There are Elven Halls in this forest, even if they're nowhere near this part of it. They're probably overrun with mortals by now, but they'll never brave this part of the forest."

"With good reason." Another elf muttered, "Men don't belong here, much less elves of the Golden Wood."

Anorian shot him a glare, "The Undying Lands aren't an option, and as far as I know, the only places Men haven't infested in Middle Earth are here and Angmar. Would you rather go there?"

Constance-

Men, why can't they leave the forest alone? I walking away from a week-long talk with Treebeard when I saw the camp of men. They were like a similar group five years ago that came and cut down a full five acres of trees. At that time I couldn't stop them, now I could.

I ran to the outer edge of the trees, but someone was following me. I turned back and saw a female that I had seen before. She was with a group of elves who had found safety near the forest. She posed no threat so I moved on and she didn't follow.

The men were pigs, and acted like savages. Just as I had remembered them from Minas Tirith. But like pigs they fell asleep with little guard and I moved into the camp. The coals from their fires were still hot and soon they were great flames on the tents and carts.

The men barely noticed me as they ran for their lives to find water, and none entered the forest. Unfortunately I caused a lot of smoke and the elves or the nearby humans of Rohan would investigate on what happened here.

I hope it's not too late to join. If it is please just PM me, and ignore my post.

So, there are no Hobbitses? Well, time to change that!

NAME: Cann Brandybuck

GENDER: Male

AGE: 34

RACE: Hobbit

APPEARANCE: Looks very much like Frodo Baggins. Long curly black hair, and about the height of... A hobbit.

HISTORY: Has grown up in the shire all his life. But one day, bored of the monotonous merry hobbit life, Cann left home. He decided that he would become a historian, and go to Rivendale to study the elves. He would also go to Gondor, and study the ancient kings of old.

OTHER: Is quite intelligent by hobbit standards.

~Kaida~

I reigned in my horse, wary of whatever had caused the smoke. Fire near Fangorn? My blood started to race. Ever since I was a child, I'd felt drawn to those old trees. I loved them dearly, though I'd never expressed this love.

"Come, Cerean, ride." I whispered. With a small twitch of my heels, he obeyed and headed towards the smoke. He rode incredibly fast, faster than most horses. Cerean was one of the Mearas, a direct descendant of Shadowfax. The only reason I possesed such a wonderful creature was because I was a distant descendant of Lady Eowyn.


When I saw the camp, I had to gasp. It was up in flames. Men were scrambling about, trying to find water to quench the fire. "What happened?" I breathed, circling the camp.

Bringing Crerean close to the forest, I watched the mayhem. By the looks of them, they were lumbersmen. They didn't belong near Fangorn.

Dismounting, I tentivley went up to touch one of the trees. They were speaking, quite angrily it seemed.

Constance-

The girl stood in front of the trees. I watched her very carefully, making sure she didn't come one step near the forest. Her hand touched the bark of a tree and my arrow shot down to her feet.

She jumped back. "Who's there?"

I shot another arrow, hoping that it would scare her away.

"Who's there?"

"Leave."

"Tell me who you are first."

I swung down from the branch and landed a few feet in front of her, my form still shadowed by the trees.

"I said go. Or suffer the same fate as the others."

"No I won't go. And you think you can threaten me?"

I glared at the stranger, but knew she had called my bluff. I had an odd rule never to kill anyone unless in battle. It just felt wrong to murder. But the humans neer felt that way when they murdered trees.

"If you must know, I am the protector of this forest. I protect the trees from the likes of you. Now Leave!" I turned and ran back into the woods, occasionally jumping onto logs or branches. Why can't humans ever leave this place alone? Leave me alone?

~Kaida~

I pushed my anger down, watching the girl run off. I would have called after her, told her I wasn't fully human, but with the men near...that wouldn't be safe. Walking to Cerean, I mounted. He snorted and pawed anxiously at the ground.

"Alright, let's go." Some of the men had finally noticed me in their panic and were running towards me. Either they were really panicing or they didn't know horses. You don't run towards a horse. He pawed some more and I wheeled him around.

"I'll go tell somebody." I told them, letting Cerean run in whichever direction he wished. If those men want to try and kill those beautiful trees, she would let them try and solve their own problems. It was their fault for thinking they could even touch Fangorn.