I have two charries which I would like to enter, if that is alright with you?



Name: Tolur the Bold

Race: of Men, Gondor

Gender: Male

Age: 45

Occupation/title: Independent tracker for hire.

Hair: Shoulder length, dark brown, a bit shaggy and unkempt, with a gruff short beard, reddish in color.

Eyes: Fierce dark eyes

Height: Rather tall at 6’ 3”

Other Appearance: Darkly tanned, not bulky, but strong, with the ability for quick and silent movements.

Clothing: Dark colors, to blend with shadow and forest, a large cloak to easily conceal his tall figure.

Belongings: Bow and arrow, simple in design, a sword of Gondorian fashion, as well as a few miscellaneous daggers and knives. Carries with him always rope, and plenty supplies to last him through long lengths of time. A horse, a mare, dull bay in color, which he has a strange habit of merely calling “Mare”

Expertise: Sword, bow, and tracking, as well as silent stalking and disguise. Often hired by highly held men of Gondor to track or follow individuals, and at times return them at all costs.

Personality: Rather cruel at times, uncaring of any individual, willing to kill if he must. Quiet and direct to his tasks, not one to pause for chit chat.

History: No one knows where he had come from, though it was said he had elven in his blood, but it is only rumored, and he does not speak of his past, though it was known that he had lost his family when he was yet young and was then raised by a strongly militant Gondorian, who had found him after the loss of family. Being raised in a strict manner, Tolur became a tracker, and was urged to join the Gondorian military, but he made the decision to focus instead on selling out his services, and became a ruthless hunter, firm in his emotions and quick to his task. He was highly sought out for his work, and hired by some of the more important and well respected Gondor men to track down criminals and haul them back, and often given orders to dispose of the more dangerous ones.

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Name: Dalria Blackwood

Translation: No known translation for Dalria, though Blackwood was derived from Sae'Athkorbrar.

Title/Public standing: High Official of the Blackwood Wanderers, a few elite huntsmen.

Gender: Female

Birth year: 1670 of the Second Age

Race: Sae'Athkorbrar, meaning "wood of black craft" and Firvan, meaning "dark forest", both later simplified and translated to Blackwood and known as Blackwood Wanderers

Personality: Calm, thoughtful, though her manners could change drastically. In one moment she may be personable and helpful, though in the next she could seem cold mannered and withdrawn.

Appearance: Being of a little known race which comes in the appearance of a mere mortal, she boasts only simple, though pleasant features. Hair a straight rusty brown, it is often pulled into a tie to keep it from hindering her vision. With a figure that is relatively tall at 5' 10", she is agile, though a slender build conceals a good deal of strength. Her eyes are of lightest hazel, the only aspect of her features which sets her apart from others, though those of her own race carry this distinct difference as well.

Clothing: Dalria is simply clad, wearing mostly forest colored garbs, though on occasion she will don a thick leather armor of a dull brown and a drape-cloak of the same deep brown.

Weapons/Equipment: A few small, light daggers tucked into convenient locations. One hefty broadsword bestowed with the name Firavel, simple in design, but with a strength hardly strained in her combat years, the blade having a dark finish, while the hilt is of black enamel with a single red jewel. At first glance, the gem could be thought to be in the likeness of the Great Eye...

Steed or travel companion: None besides the occasional "burrowed" or rented horse.

History: Little is known of Dalria and her Blackwood followers, but it was once revealed that her race came to existence during Sauron's preparations and beginnings for war in between 1600 and 1700 of the Second Age. They were known as the Sae'Athkorbrar, an elite few who were skilled in weapon and sharp of mind, while their appearances were so alike to the race of Men, thus allowing them to mingle unnoticed. They were, however, an immortal race.

Dalria excelled in training, and despite her being a female combatant, she was appointed leader of the Sae'Athkorbrar. She was regarded as a high authority during the years of Sauron's growth in strength, and given the task of leading those under her command to battle against the Last Alliance, but all went awry for her and the Sae'Athkorbrar when Sauron was defeated at the end of the Second Age.

They scattered and concealed themselves among the race of Men, until peace was known for many years. Only then did they dare emerge to regroup, for they were still immortal and their lack of aging was stirring rumors among those with whom they dwelt. From the point of their discovery, they were referred to as the Blackwood Wanderers, though few knew their true point of origin.

There were those who turned to the Blackwood in search of criminal hunters and expert trackers, and though the remnants of their dark beginnings still flowed through their veins, the Blackwood Wanderers became a well respected group, minding their own but fulfilling the tasks assigned to them by Dalria.

Dalria's reasons for accepting these assignments from officials of various cities never was revealed, but often rumor would have it that she was keeping the Blackwood Wanderers in condition, for the time when their title of Sae'Athkorbrar would be restored.

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Right now Dalria is in disguise as a Gondorian, hired and working with Tolur to hunt down and kill a goblin party which has been causing trouble in the lands with their destructive trolls.

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I am a pro-cycling fan! Congrats to the Young rider of the Tour de France!
~Cyclist in Training~

^Excellent! I might start this tomorrow... I'm going to give people a last chance to join before we start.

Awesome!

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Just became a college freshman; be on sparingly

{Starting Now! }

~~

The dark forest seemed to go on for miles. Aramel looked down at her baby brother, Eldarin, sleeping peacefully in her arms. He had been quiet for some time, which they all were thankful for, so their location wouldn’t be given away. Her younger sister, Mithian, was by her side as they went, passing through the clusters of trees like shadows.

All Aramel could think of was the orc attack upon their group; the screams, the sounds of swords ringing as they were drawn from their sheathes, and blood staining the ground…

They were the only three to make it out alive.

Aramel felt tears blurring her vision as thoughts of her mother and father ran through her mind. She managed to hold them back and held Eldarin closer, praying he wouldn’t awaken any time soon.

A little farther ways down the forest, there was a small fire blazing that two lone friends sat by, letting the shadows surround them and there fire. One of them, an Elf named Handion, ate a small bite of lembas as he looked over at his friend, thinking about the group of orcs they were hunting. Yet, the Elf did not speak, but ate in silence.

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Just became a college freshman; be on sparingly

Usually Mithain liked the woods, being surrounded by trees and forest creatures. Now, though, the trees seemed dark and threatening, almost as if they were bending over the small group. She drew closer to her sister Aramel, trying to find some comfort.

So far she had been blocking the thoughts of the attack from her mind, trying to stay strong and keep from crying. She didn't know how much longer she could hold out, though.

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Aling carefully took the spitted rabbit from the flames, testing the flesh with his fingers. It smelled delicious, and was probably cooked well. He cut a section of meat for himself, blew on it, and ate it.

"There's plenty here." He said to Handion, then added, "You're certainly quiet tonight."

Handion shrugged, looking up as the wind blew. "There is evil at work in the wind." He said simply, contiuning to eat his lembas.

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Just became a college freshman; be on sparingly

Dalria was well cloaked, blending her to the shadows, as was Tolur. The former leapt forward in swift, silent paces, crouching to peer closely to the ground, as though something of great importance was to be seen. The lithe, relatively tall woman held a bow in her left hand, short and simple, but useful. Turning her strangely pale hazel eyes towards her companion, she murmured, her voice cleverly feigning a Gondorian accent.

"They came this way.... I know not how the goblins managed to have the trolls tread so lightly! They pursue deeply into these woods, I would say. We shall reach them by midnight if our pace is swift...."

Tolur grunted and nodded in agreement, being a gruff, silent kind, his height being an impressive 6' 3", though barely half a foot taller than the woman. He wore no hood, for his hair was a dull, shaggy brown, and his chin boasted a scrufty beard, giving him enough concealment for his task.

"Let's go then," he rumbled in a low voice finally, brushing past her.

Dalria's eyes narrowed on the man's back, and she clenched her jaw, obviously displeased with his gruff authority. She was more accustomed to being the commander, even if it be between only herself and one other. Content was she, however, to let this slip for this time, the task ahead promising a good purse for each of them after the deed was done.

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I am a pro-cycling fan! Congrats to the Young rider of the Tour de France!
~Cyclist in Training~

Aling nodded. "Too true." They were tracking only one of many orc bands roaming the land. Evil creatures had been stirring and growing bolder, striking out at villages, farms, and travelers.

Aramel pulled Mithain close to her side. It was unusually cool out tonight and a cold wind was blowing. Their cloaks provided little warmth, but it was warmth nonetheless.

She peered into the distance, seeing a bright, flickering light - a fire. "Mithain, do you see that?"

Mithain nodded. "Should we go any closer?" she asked. It seemed to be quiet in the woods, but one of the last things she wanted now was to stumble into a band of orcs or thieves.

"Yes. But quietly." Aramel began slowly towards the clearing, the place the light was coming from, and soon found two men huddled around a fire. Eldarin began shifting in her arms, waking up too soon. He started wimpering, then gradually began crying and screaming despite all of Aramel's attempts to keep him quiet.

Mithain followed a couple of steps behind Aramel, her feet hardly making any noise. She winced and froze as Eldarin began to cry, his screams piercing in the silence.

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Aling jumped to his feet when he heard a baby start crying. "What in Arda...?" He peered out into the shadows. He thought he caught a glimpse of movement, but wasn't sure. "I need your elf-eyes, my friend." He said, motioning Handion over.

Both Dalria and Tolur had crept upon the encampment of goblins and trolls, though it seemed the group had paused merely to argue over who would take the task of the next few hours of leading one particularly grouchy troll.

Dalria listened to the bantering until all was resolved, while in the meantime, Tolur prepared his bow. It was quietly agreed upon between the two that they would commence the attack at that moment while the goblins' guard seemed let down. Yet a cry of a child deep within the woods came drifting to them in the wind, disturbing the encampment of dark creatures.

Tolur grunted his dissatisfaction as the goblins and trolls stirred, making it impossible to catch them off guard now that their senses were alerted. Dalria scowled irritably, but prepared to follow the horde as they sought the source of the child's cry.

The wind had surely been ill this night for those who carry that child, for even if they be a good few mile's distance, the sound carries far.... Dalria pondered in her own thoughts, while Tolur considered how unfortunate it was for him to lose a chance at his prey to such a distraction.

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I am a pro-cycling fan! Congrats to the Young rider of the Tour de France!
~Cyclist in Training~

Handion stood as quickly as his friend and he looked over at Aling and then looked into the darkness. "We are no longer alone..." He whispered, seeing three young humans staring at the fire scared. "But they do not mean us harm...they looked frightened." Then Handion got an idea. "Aling, go to them and see what is wrong. I will hide for now as you gain there trust, for I don't believe they have seen me yet and they might be scared if two full grown men approach them, armed." Handion awaited for Aling answer, still looking upon the newcomers.

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Just became a college freshman; be on sparingly

((They're Elves, actually. lol))

Aling nodded. He had heard of thieves that could imitate many sounds, including a baby's cry, to catch their prey off guard. Thieves, though, would have attacked by now.

The man stood and walked towards the group. After Handion had pointed them out, he was able to see their forms in the dark. "Hello?" he called out softly. "We won't hurt you."