I'm joining.

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I'll take the dwarf as well

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I would not mind being one of the scouts.

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"True Evil cannot be reckoned with. Only Defeated." - Sen L I Starfire

(Banner thanks to Imlosiel the Lost! )

I'll cook up a bio for a scout, Ellie. However, my time on the comp is running out for now, so it might not be up until tommorrow, when I definitely should have ample time.

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I shall play a scout

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May I join? I can take a smith/tradesperson in the caravan ... although it would be a female, and thus slightly out of the ordinary... bio posted in the new charries thread.

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<center>Nothing but the Rain</center>

Is there still room for me to be a scout? Can I have another character (A blacksmith) too.

(is it too late to join as a scout? if it is a must I am willing to be one of the northern...if push comes to shove...but i would really like to be a scout...)

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Lips, ripe as the berries in June
Red the rose, red the rose
Skin, pale as the light of the moon
Gently as she goes

as always a hero comes home

If it is alright with you I will play one of the northern...
My Bio is the same as it always is Deawen human age 22 and is a mercenary...weapons include a sword and two daggers. Armor normaly light leather if she wears any at all. She has amber/copper hair and azure blue eyes. she wears mainly black riding dresses or dark blue plain dress. she's very wary of others she prefers to be by herself.
current situation: Deawen has been hired to stop the caravan from building. and or to be a spy.

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Lips, ripe as the berries in June
Red the rose, red the rose
Skin, pale as the light of the moon
Gently as she goes

as always a hero comes home

I'll be a northman too! It looks like we need more Northman characters!

(haha it's about time...)

Deawen watched the caravan move slowly northward from afar. She noted the scouts but mainly their leader from her observations He was alert and not like other caravan leaders who were shifty and panicked easily. Deawen skirted down her position to a lower and closer to the carvan. soon she was a hundred feet away but she did not draw sword or knife she just sat and watched with an amused expression on her face. This was her challenge...

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Lips, ripe as the berries in June
Red the rose, red the rose
Skin, pale as the light of the moon
Gently as she goes

as always a hero comes home

Fearan sat behind Elegost, riding his mare Wilwarin. He was in the band of men that were preparing to scout the land, to check for danger and assests. He hoped he would fine more of the latter.

(Northman bio up!)

Rothana of the White City was, quite frankly, miserable. Oh, she knew it would pass. The problem? It hadn't.

It was one of the several things on this journey that she hadn't reckoned on, but had quickly regretted. Saddle sores - she hated them with a passion. However, she wasn't an extremely vocal person, so all she could do was grin and bear it.

Or just bear it.

Lady, her quiet, plodding grey, seemed to have no opinion on the matter.

Was it really worth it? Was leaving home and family as glorious as it had first seemed? True, Arnor wasn't exactly a strange new place - according to her mother, her father's side of the family had come from there, generations ago, in the days of the kings.

Actually, it was a strange new place. Rothana shook the thoughts out of her head, and surveyed the surrounding lands as her part of the caravan crested a small rise. It was beautiful - the only indicators of the recent War of the Ring were the youthful trees and the stony spire rising in the distance, close to the snaking River Isen.

Isengard, lately the hold of the turncoat wizard Saruman.

She would like to meet a wizard.

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<center>Nothing but the Rain</center>

Deawen watched carfuly she noted that one of the scouts was very keen. Like a coyote she hid deeper into the brush to avoid being seen. a rabbit Dashed from it's burrow and scampered towards the caravan Deawen bit her bottom lip to keep from making a sound. she hoped the rabbit did not draw too much attention. Deawen fingered a small dagger just in case one of the scouts decided to be brave and venture towards her. she plotted her escape routes in her mind. if she was seen it would be harder to get close to the caravan again. They woudl be on that someone was indeed following them.

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Lips, ripe as the berries in June
Red the rose, red the rose
Skin, pale as the light of the moon
Gently as she goes

as always a hero comes home

[all right I've pondered my post for a while and decided that lotr rpgs are really not my thing. a thousand apologies, Ellie, but I'm dropping out ]

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A twig cracked. Beren gritted his teeth. That was the third one! It was this blasted northland. The forests were dry and still, not like the lush greenery around his home Osgiliath. He crept up around a bluff, brown cloak blending seamlessly with the dry moss and dead brush. The caravan snaked down far below, a multicolored train.

Nothing doing around here. He made his way carefully down the steep hillside, intending to circle back around the rear and report to his captain that their surroundings seemed clear.

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