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Post by Galadareth on Dec 18, 2021 1:45:48 GMT
This is a Closed RP but we certainly don't mind it if anyone read the adventures of our characters!
I'll update this post with some info on the adventures below once we establish those!
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Post by Jax Nova on Dec 19, 2021 5:23:23 GMT
Name: Duinn Inneirghe (Pronounced “Dew•In In•Er•Rey)
Appearance: Slender athletic build. Fit but not excessively strong. Short scraggly dark brown hair, sharp facial features occasionally hidden under beard stubble when he doesn’t shave. Wears simple travel outfits generally consisting of dark colored pants, shirt, and a long overcoat. Amber eyes and 5 foot 8 inches tall.
Weapons: Bow and arrows, a single double-edged sword, a dagger, and a hatchet.
Personality: Somewhat reserved, but not because he is shy, he simply doesn’t have much to say sometimes. Can be sarcastic and critical, but internalizes a lot of his thoughts. Likes spending time with close friends, but will shy away from interacting around large crowds. Enjoys music, nature, and the more simplistic things in life, but has always dreamed of being more, doing something great, or accomplishing feats of renown. Somewhere, hidden deep inside, he has always suppressed a wilder side that longs for adventure, excitement, and caves to a ceaseless wanderlust.
Companions: His horse, Holly. She is a dark bay with nearly black hair freckled with flecks of brighter red as well as black mane with natural light red highlights.
Background: Duinn grew up on a family farm and had a very simple childhood. His life, tending to the sheep, goats and cattle, came to an abrupt halt with a deadly drought that swept through the land. His family was forced to sell all the livestock and Duinn set out to the woodlands near the quite town of Hobbiton to take a job as a lumberjack. It was there, unbeknownst to him, the true adventures would begin.
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Post by Galadareth on Dec 21, 2021 2:38:39 GMT
Name: Kestra Érowin (Kes-truh Airo-when)
Appearance: Medium Height, about 5’6. She's got a good amount of muscle to her from a life of swinging a sword and arm-wrestling dwarves. She has short blonde hair, kept behind in a ponytail that is very, very stubby so her hair falls loose constantly and she redoes it all the time. Bright, dark blue eyes, with a slight pink flush to her cheeks but it's hard to see unless she gets flushed, then it is really prominent. She wears black and only black. Black tights, tunic, vest, and cloak. Lots of black, it's a theme.
Weapons: A short sword and a dagger that she keeps strapped to her hip. A small knife attached to her leg is used for emergencies only.
Personality: Distrustful, but likes to invite people into her life - very few are allowed to stay. She loves to drink and will do a lot if it means a good meal, drink, and gold. She likes being the center of attention. At the base level, everyone knows who she is, but no one knows exactly who she is. Always open to an adventure.
Companions: Her horse, Aerin. He is a grey horse that will absolutely run during a fight but returns when the coast is clear.
Background: Kestra, a human from Rohan that grew up in Bree with her father after her mother died in childbirth. Her father left to go back to Rohan and Kestra elected to remain in Bree and eventually traveled to the Blue Mountains and stayed with the dwarves, training and learning how to fight. She has always dreamed of meeting an elf. Going from inn to inn from the Blue Mountains to Bree, she is a frequent, but well-known traveler/mercenary that will ask few questions and get quick results. This chapter of her life came to an end when she stepped into the Green Dragon in Bywater, not far from Hobbiton, stooping low to avoid cracking her head on the door frame and taking a seat in the corner of the room on a chair for a hobbit.
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Post by Galadareth on Dec 21, 2021 2:45:33 GMT
The sun was setting over the land of the Shire, throwing the peaceful land into brilliant colors. The green trees were filled with a golden light that reflected over the water as the lanterns were lit to light the path home.
Kestra stood out among the hobbits that bustled in the streets, either heading home for dinner, finishing up their work for the day, or stopping by the Green Dragon for a pint, just as she was planning. The little hobbits greeted her as she passed by and she responded in kind, addressing a few by name. An apple farmer handed her a ripe red fruit with a smile as Kestra passed him some gold in exchange for the food. Apples were one of her favorites.
The night air was warm but she still welcomed the atmosphere of the Green Dragon as she ducked down to enter the inn. Finding a seat at a corner table, the hobbit barmaid rushed over with a pint, a greeting, and a smile, which Kestra accepted gladly. As a regular to the Green Dragon, she settled in for the night, ready to watch the little folk dance upon the tables and sing.
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Post by Jax Nova on Dec 21, 2021 3:31:56 GMT
(Totally forgot Duinn’s eye color and height. Added that in there. Amber eyes and stands 5’8)
Duinn swung his axe, slamming it into the tree with a thunderous clap. An onlooker might assume the tree had wronged him, observing how he poured out his frustration upon its brittle bark. Duinn was small and somewhat lanky — the smallest man on the lumberjack crew by a solid 85 pounds. He had only been working for a week, and already they had christened him with a dozen patronizing nicknames. He would show them.
“Who am I kidding? What could I possibly do to show them anything?! They’re right... I don’t have what it takes. I’m just not strong enough.”
Duinn continued chopping wood in a frenzy, silently brooding under his disenchanted gaze. When quitting time came he was drenched in sweat from head to toe. In fact, he would have sworn that if he rung the liquid from all his clothes he’d easily collect a pint.
“A pint,” he mumbled. “That’s exactly what I need.”
He wouldn’t go to the local tavern at the lumberjack camp, though. That would, no doubt, only lead to more teasing and patronizing. He had heard there was a merry little inn amongst the little folk not too far from their camp. A short ride showed him to the doorstep and in he walked.
The Green Dragon.
At least here no one could look down on him. At least not physically. He approached the bar and ordered his pint, then scanned the room, surprised to see another human amongst the little folk.
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Post by Galadareth on Dec 23, 2021 2:29:42 GMT
(Gosh, I've missed your writing style! I actually snorted at the "At least not physically." part. That's a good one.)
Kestra was two three drinks in when a man entered the tavern. A tall one. She found this odd, as the vertically-blessed folk usually never stayed in The Shire long enough to enjoy a good Hobbit evening, save for the occasional woodsman from the lumberjack camp that was not too far from here.
From the looks of him, he seemed to be built for the job, albeit a little bit smaller than the usual lumberjack. His upper half looked like it had become used to the action of swinging an axe. To her, he looked exhausted, likely from the long day he had.
The man deserved a drink.
And maybe some company. Kes raised her mug to the barmaid and jerked her head in his direction.
The little hobbit acknowledged her with a smile and poured out a mug for the woodsman before bringing it to him, her frilly skirts shuffling around her feet.
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Post by Jax Nova on Dec 24, 2021 22:54:52 GMT
(Hey, thanks! It’s good to know I may not be as rusty as I feel! Lol 😆 Have to say, it’s definitely good to be back in an RP with you. I’ve missed it. Our long-running RP on the old forum was definitely my favorite through the years.) Duinn gave the woman a questioning look as the barmaid brought him the drink. “Thank you,” he accepted politely from the short hobbit woman. Typically he would have shied away from the woman — probably sat on the opposite side of the room. She was an attractive young woman with flaxen hair and sapphire eyes. If his brother were here, he’d already be teasing him about her. “ She’s just your type,” he would have said. “ Go on, talk to her! You’re not scared are you?”
”Yes,” Duinn admitted aloud to his imaginary conversation. “She bought you a beer! It would be very rude not to say hi.” — He could hear his brother’s voice in his head. Duinn groaned, already feeling his nerves begin to shake. “Fine.” He took a long gulp from his mug and approached the table where the woman sat. “Hi,” he started slightly awkward. “And uh,” he raised his mug. “Thanks. Mind if I have a seat?”
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Post by Galadareth on Dec 24, 2021 23:35:30 GMT
(I have missed it as well, it was always so exciting. Their adventure was my favorite as well! I quite enjoyed their story. Also, happy holidays to you!)
Kestra half-enjoyed his puzzlement, feeling interested by his reaction. He didn’t seem to be as confident as most of the men she met in her travels, albeit most of those men were obnoxious and their company was less than ideal. She liked this about him. The world needed kinder people.
She raised her mug to him when he gave her a questioning look. He was handsome underneath the lingering sweat from his day. She liked his eyes the most. They seemed softer than she was used to with the men of Bree.
When he came over, she looked him up and down before giving him a smile. “Please. Sit down and have a drink with me.”
She paused slightly, “What do they call you, woodsman?” This man, above all the people she had met within Ered Luin, the Shire, and Bree, took her interest completely and a desire to learn more about him continued to grow with the number of sips she took.
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Post by Jax Nova on Dec 25, 2021 1:45:38 GMT
(Same. And thanks, hope you have a great holiday as well!) Duinn nodded a polite greeting, downing another long sip to calm his nerves. “Duinn,” he introduced himself. “Duinn Inneirghe.” He took a seat, then asked, “And who do I have the pleasure of speaking to, if I may ask your name?” “The alcohol must be working,” he thought to himself as he let his gaze linger on the woman, but only for a moment before he averted his eyes.
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Post by Galadareth on Dec 25, 2021 3:28:16 GMT
Kestra finished her drink with one long swig. Feeling the need to drink a little bit more before talking. She adjusted her collar and sat up in her chair, narrowly avoiding bumping her head on a low beam.
“Kestra. Kestra Érowin, at your service. It’s a pleasure to meet you. What are you doing here in the Shire? It’s not often I meet someone so…” the word “nice-looking” came to mind but that felt too forward. They just met after all. “Tall.” She decided on.
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Post by Jax Nova on Dec 25, 2021 5:25:37 GMT
“Eh,” Duinn rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled at the use of her adjective. “Well, I’ve been working at the lumberjack camp,” he started off. “And you’re definitely the first person to call me tall.” He chuckled, looking around at the hobbits. “I guess in present company...” he shrugged and downed the rest of his alcohol.
He was silent for a moment, then looked up with a soft smile. “Kestra is nice name.”
The alcohol was definitely working.
“How about yourself? What do you do here in...” he hesitated, trying to remember the name of the land — but he couldn’t. “Hobbit land?” He gave a sheepish glance and a one-shouldered shrug.
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Post by Galadareth on Dec 25, 2021 6:03:36 GMT
“Lumberjack camp, huh?” She smiled at the barmaid as she dropped off another mug for her, as well as a little bit of food—bread and some cheese. Kestra pushed it toward Duinn while taking some food for herself.
“Well, tall worked. I’m quite used to the little folk of the Shire,” she wasn’t sure he meant to use Hobbitland but she offered him the name on purpose. “Seeing someone tall, especially in one of their inns is a unique event.” A couple hobbits got up on a table to sing and dance.
He said she had a nice name. No one ever really said that to her. For once, she felt bashful, staring into her mug with a soft smile. “Thank you. I am a mercenary and a traveler. If there is something to be done, I am usually the one to do it. You’re not from around here, I take it.” She took a sip and leaned back into her chair, “What’s your story, Duinn?” It was an invasive questions but four drinks in gave her a more nosey edge that she was unapologetic about. At least right now.
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Post by Jax Nova on Dec 26, 2021 20:39:57 GMT
“Thanks,” Duinn spoke softly as she pushed the plate towards him. He took a small piece of bread. Just enough to not seem rude, but hardly enough to really make a difference. He nibbled slowly as Kestra talked. He hummed and scratched his chin as she mentioned being a mercenary, showing obvious interest.
Before he could inquire more, she asked him of his own past.
“Me?” He shrugged. “My story is pretty simple... and boring. I grew up on a farm. I tended livestock — Goats, sheep, and cattle. My brother, my parents, and I. The last three years we’ve been suffering from drought and had to sell all our livestock other than a handful of goats and sheep. My older brother found a part time job close to home near the Chetwood. That way he could stay close and help my parents take care of the few animals they have left. I hired on with the lumberjack crew. We started on the north side of the Old Forest, but... strange things started happening. Some of the men disappeared and others swore they saw trees walking. My parents always told me of the old tales... of ents...” he paused, shrugged, and took another drink. “Anyways. One week in and we moved, came here near the-” he paused for only a split second, recalling the name Kestra had used. “The shire.”
He downed the last of his drink, then looked up at her. He felt a stirring inside him. He knew that feeling. It always came right before he did something foolish — but he always did it anyways.
“You mentioned you were a mercenary? That sounds like an exciting profession. How did you get started? Are you here on a job?”
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Post by Galadareth on Dec 26, 2021 21:20:50 GMT
Kestra nodded along with his story, showing interest. At the part about ents and walking trees, she remembered the stories about Fangorn from living in Rohan as a child, although she had never seen the forest itself. She reached toward the plate of bread and took a little bit for herself. She wanted him to eat a bit.
“A drought, huh. I’m sorry to hear that about your farm. I know how hard it is to uproot your whole life for something like that.” She didn’t feel much like explaining that right now.
“I usually stick around these parts. The little folk sometimes need a little bit more. I lived in the Blue Mountains and grew up there. Haven’t gone past Bree before but I want to. Eventually, at least. I’ve always wanted to meet an elf. I just finished a job helping out some of the farmers gather their cows. It can get menial but I like helping out here. They’re always thankful.” She smiled at him and looked around at the hobbits gathered. “As for how I started, I just wanted to help. I don’t like sticking to one place for too long and I guess I took the opportunity to run from whatever is chasing me. I never really wanted to stop.” Kestra didn’t know what was chasing her and she didn’t know if she ever would. All she knew is that she was running toward something…or someone.
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Post by Jax Nova on Dec 27, 2021 3:21:45 GMT
“It is hard,” Duinn admitted. “As much as I loved the farm, though-“ he stopped and a half guilty look washed over his face. “I do love it. The simplicity of it all. At the same time, I’ve always wanted to do something... more. Honestly, your life sounds a lot more exciting.”
He picked at the bread and cheese a bit after Kestra at some as well.
“Chasing you?” he queried. “What’s chasing you?”
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