Name: Déor
Age: 33
Race: Human
Nationality: Rohirric
Gender: Male
Appearance: Shoulder-length dark blond hair, pale skin, and blue-grey eyes. He is around 5'10" in height, which is...um, roughly 1.78 meters.
Garb: Typical Rohirric Royal Guard stuff.
Weapons: A dagger, spear, and sword--Déor also wears a large round shield.
Background: Déor was born in the Eastfold of Rohan, in Aldburg. He did not stay there long, though. He desired to fight, and left for Edoras as soon as he was old enough to join the Royal Guard, being one of the few Rohirrim who actually wished to be trained to fight and live as a soldier. He was not an exceptionally skilled, or intelligent, warrior, but he was very disciplined and proficient. He certainly wasn't the worst of the Guards. He was sent, along with Aldwulf, to Gondor, on a special mission. It was something he enjoyed--a long journey, and chance of peril. Peril was adventurous. It was the reason he had joined the Guard in the first place, and he had had precious little of it.

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Leaning back against the tree trunk, Déor stirred the embers of the dying fire with a twig. The sun was setting, casting a beautiful red glow across the sky, one that was rapidly losing its brilliance as the shadows increased. There was only a very small chance that they might be in some danger here, only a day's ride into Anorien, yet Déor still had the first watch. The horses--Déor's Folca and Aldwulf's own horse--were hobbled nearby, grazing in the long grass. The sight of them eating brought to mind Déor's own sparse dinner. It had not been much, yet it was sufficient. Royal Guards could do more than most men, and on less food. They were not as sturdy as the Dúnedain, perhaps, yet they were still exceptional among their own people.

"I'm waking you at the end of my watch," Déor said with a pointed glare in Aldwulf's direction. The other guard was known for sleeping through his watch--Déor would find sleeping difficult. He always did, when Aldwulf was on watch. Hopefully, he could drop off for three hours before he was woken up again.

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Déor assumed a look of mock horror, then smiled. "I'll be sure to prod you awake from the other side of the camp, using my spear, then," he said. Aldwulf really was terrible to wake up. He had given men black eyes before when they woke him up to assume his watch.

He coughed a little as some smoke from Aldwulf's pipe wafted into his face. Smoking was something he had never gotten used to--it was common among the entire population of Rohan, but Déor just did not enjoy it. It made him feel sick, and his fellow Guards had told him that he turned green when he tried it.

"Now then, get some rest, or you will be far worse to wake up than you normally are, and I value my life."

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((*pops in* I know this is just you guys - but I see you took my suggestion I intend to read. Have fun!))

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Uhoh, Ellie--Melda's reading, so we'd better write well.

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Déor tossed a rock at Aldwulf. "Go to sleep," he said, smiling. Shoving off from the tree trunk, he stretched his back, then started pacing around their fire. That was something he did even when he wasn't on watch. It irritated his fellows to no end.

He used his spear as a walking stick. If it hadn't been for the fact that it would make him seem lazy, he would have left the long weapon by his bedroll, instead of carrying it around on his watch, but he could always throw his spear in a fight--if he threw his sword, he would end up having a bit of trouble, because he had no more training in unarmed combat than the next man.

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