Lesao urged her horse, Nienyan, to keep going, the horse was exaughsted from traveling so far. The White gates of Minas Tirith rose above them, Nienyan shied when a loud, strange voice came from behind them.
'Who are you, and what is your buisness here in the White City?" the Gondorian asked, a hint of pride in his voice.
"My name is Alain." She lied, "I have come here to live with family relations." her voice faltered on the word 'family'. There was not a sound, besides Nienyan's hoove's sharp sound as they hit the pavement as she pranced nervously. She was beginning to get suspicious when she heard an answer.
"You may enter." The shining gates slowly opened, groaning from the effort. They stopped when they were only large enough for her walk through, dismounted, leading her mare.
She was about to mount again when she heard a cold voice; "Hello Alain, or should I say, Lesao?" he said. She whirled around to see that Gondorian soldiers had crept up, along with a man who's face was horridly familiar. He had dark brown hair, matching eyes, and a cold smile.
"I am no longer in that land," she said forcefully, speaking of her home, "you cannot banish me from Gondor as you have Rohan."
"Yes I can." he said casually, he snapped his fingers and the soldiers slowly advanced. "King Aragorn told me to rid the city of murderers, and I shall hold to my word."
Fear was consuming her voice, "I did not kill him, you know that."
"Do I?" he asked, cocking his head thoughtfully. She drew her sword with trembling hands....


PLOT: Lesao was one of the Rohirrim until she was banished from her own land, Rohan. And yet, she is the sister of the King. All for the mistake of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. The people of Rohan were so upset, that her brother was forced to banish her from her home. She was also disowned from the royal line of Rohan. Now, two years later, she travels around to different cities, always hoping to find peace, but so far a man kept on appearing, telling others who she was. She had been able to escape from every trap he had set, but not this time. Lesao is thrown into jail. Your characters help her escape, and we can do what we want with the rest of the rp.

Please join!!!

My bio:

Name:Lesao
Age: 26
Race: Human
Appearance: dark brown hair, dark green eyes, she is shorter, and has a slender figure, she has a tattoo of a hawk in midflight on the bottom of her wrist.
Weapons: Two daggers, bow/arrows


(NOTE: I had this rp before, but that was when I was grounded, and I couldn't get on for a long time. Any characters that rped in the old thread are welcome.)

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Thanks Nurratiel, *Ennostiel*, PD, and Githoniel

Hmmm... I'd like to participate.

Name: Marilin Crebainfinnel
Age: 3742
Race: Elf
Appearance: Tall and Slim as all her kind, Mar (as she likes to be called) has jet black hair cut short so as not to interfear with her archery (unlike one elven princeling who she does not get along with ) She wears simple garb in greens and browns and seldom wears anything fancier than a riding dress. Her eyes are hazel.
Weapons: A bow and arrows, two fighting knives like Legolas, only hers are black.

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Married Artemis Fowl on July 16, 2007
[!+^$%=#?&]
The Seemingly Nice But Actually Really Nasty Nazgul
School ate my life. *sigh*

((Alright. This sounds like fun. ))

Name: Durion
Race: Dunedain
Age:50
Apperance:Tall, slightly slender. He has black hair and pale grey eyes.
Weapon: A sword and bow, along with a dagger or two. (Maybe more if you give him a *very* thorough pat down )
Companion: A mare named Silmiel
http://www.equine-world.co.uk/about_hor ... 1Small.jpg

Yay! I love Rohan rp's! Here's a bio:
Name: Frela Lǽwan
Race: Human
Age: 25
Appearance: Tall, blonde hair, grey eyes, brown tunic and leggings.
Armor/Weapons: Scavenged cuirass, Gondorian vambraces, rohirric greaves and spaulders, spear, and short sword
Undeveloped background story:
Born to a peasant sheep herder's family in the Westfold of Rohan, raised, and ran away with Deawen Elsent and Morwen Abies to Edoras to be a handmaiden to the royal family. Was sent away after a year, disgraced and forced to wander aimlessly. Comitted crimes, dealt with less-than-bright-and-shiny-characters, scraping by. Not such a shiny character herself.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Frela looked out disinterested as two soldiers harassed another of the low-lifes hiding out in the shadows of the White Citadel. Oh, well. Better someone else than me, she thought to herself.

Then the soldiers said the name "Lesao." That name had traveled through the murderers and theives of the world. She knew who it was. She peeked out from the stall where she was hiding and watched the soldiers threaten her. Fine, she would follow up on that later. As she was sliding back into the corner, a soldier crept up next to her and covered her mouth. "Like we said...the murderers..." She had her own reputation here, and the guards knew that she would pay to stay out in the open. She wrested herself away and pulled a dagger from her belt. "How about this?" The guard tried to take it from her, but she pulled it away. He opened his hands, gesturing for an explanation. "Rosewood handle, silver latticework, mithril inlays in the pommel, guard, and sheath, two gutters. Seagull's wings down the blade. Belonged to Gilraen in the house of the steward." The soldier smiled and took it. He walked back to the group advancing towards the single figure.

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Reasons I love England #217:
I saw "whilst" on a traffic sign

(Oh! I'd like to join in! Do you mind if I have two characters out?)

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Heavens no. Hell Yeah.


Set 1: Nurr | Set 2: Me

( Shifty Morwen I must admit this is large step from the always on the “good side” Welcome to the renegade side Morwen! )
( also what is that guys name who keeps chasing Lesao ?)
Name: Deawen Elsent
Age: 23
Appearance: Slender build, very short ( not stocky), copper/auburn hair, blue eyes and pale skin tends to wear black.
Race: Human
Weapons: Long sword, several daggers hidden in various places.
Skills: Horseback riding, swordplay, and hand to hand combat, Mercenary.
History: Born in the Westfolde, Rohan, to a wealthy minor noble family Deawen’s childhood was peaceful and pleasant. She was raised to be a lady but never really was interested in being a lady. She and her two best friends Frela Lǽwan, and Morwen Abies were sent to the royal court to become handmaidens but Deawen was more interested in being a shield maiden rather than a handmaiden.
Deawen drifted from the royal court and studied the art of swordplay, she became a mercenary for various lords and has been hunted down occasionally but she ends up paying a bribe. After King Elessar was crowned he offered Deawen two choices, to become a lady knight and serve under him or be hanged as a murderer. Deawen took the first offer though grudgingly.
Attitude: Bored and always looking for a good fight.
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Deawen rode casually down the street to the main gate of Minas Tirith, she was bored out of her wits but still managed not to kill anyone. When she reached the main square she spotted a small group up ahead. Curious she nudged her horse into a trot. Something moved to her right and Deawen halted her horse and peered into the gloom. She heard soft voices and a slight scuffle. Deawen watched a soldier leave and figured it was nothing to investigate. She urged her horse towards the small group.
When she came within a stone’s throw away she stopped and stood up in her stirrups. “ My my ( what ever that guys name is) what poor little bird do you have trapped now?” Deawen asked her voice mocking and curious. This man had been hunting down murderers since he arrived and it irritated her for some unknown reason.

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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

((That's fine, Maethoriel. Welcome, welcome, everyone. Nice horse, Nurr.))

"Don't make me do this." Lesao said, backing up until her back hit the wall, the soldiers that were on that side slowly backed away. Then they all started advanced as one towards her.
The man still had the cold smile on his face, "You want your freedom, don't you? You want to run out that open gate, but there's something in the way. They're in the way." he said, guestering to the soldiers inbetween her and the narrow opening she entered through. Her eyes widened in horror. "Your freedom. To do what you want. Peace. Maybe even a loving family. Don't you want that?" he asked with an innocent look on his face.
"I won't... I can't... I won't do it!" she yelled at him, then she looked at the sword in her hands as if it were about to eat her alive. "I can't." she whispered. She dropped the sword. It fell with a loud clang onto the stone-paved street.

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Thanks Nurratiel, *Ennostiel*, PD, and Githoniel

( I know I asked eariler in my last post but whats the guys name?)
Deawen heard the clatter of a sword and waited, she wasn't much of an imposing figure, though her horse made up for lack of size. The palomino mare snorted restlessly and was as wine as two men. Though it seemed gentle with Deawen it was a fierce thing to behold in a fight. Deawen smiled to herself and silently hoped there would be trouble, she was getting bored with these civil laws.

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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 use Maeth and Grair, they are tons of random fun.)

Maethoriel Heledir

Age: Far too old (as she generally says, she's in the 5 digits)

Race: Half-elf

Appearance: Short, dark brown hair and eyes. The left side of her face has one long scar starting above her brow, skipping her eye socket and finishing at her lip.

Weapons: She predominately uses sickles, and knives. She finds swords too cumbersome and is completely useless with a bow.

Maethoriel was born in Mirkwood, and is probably one of the first half-elves of Middle Earth. Her father was a merchant and met her mother when he was trading goods with her father. Her mother died when giving birth to Maethoriel's younger sister, her father was able to hold off on leaving Middle Earth for 100 years before his grief overtook him. He entrusted his daughter's care to her grandfather. She became rather restless in the town and left one night without a word, only to find herself in Mordor, she quickly succumbed to the offer of power and learned the way of the sword. She earned the high rank of general before she deserted. After her experience she was greatly changed, often working on both sides to prevent herself from being injured. She was rather strange in her choice of friends and met a dwarf lady by the name of Nin Irohand, the two were fast friends due to similar interest, after Nin passed on Maethoriel befriended her son, Grair and the two were nearly insperable. Her last name, Heledir (Kingfisher), is more or less a title that she adopted. It was given to her for various reasons. She has few close friends and tells them little about her life. Her more notable friends is Gandalf the Grey and Radaghast the Brown. She met both of them by complete accident while she was lost in a forest.

Grair Ironhand

Age: 110

Appearance: He is a relatively normal height for dwarves at 4'3''. Grair has a straight red-beard and he is very meticulous about its upkeep. It is nearly always perfectly braided unless he has been in battle.

Weapons: Grair is quite talented with projectile weapons and uses a bow as well as a pair of twin throwing axes when he fights.

History: Grair was born in Ered Luin and lived their until Erebor was retaken by Thorin and his company. He has one brother named Bavor after his father. His mother, Nin -named for the color of her beard- married his father and Bavor adopted his mother's surname after they were married because Nin's family was higher on the social ladder. He inherited his abilities in battle from both of his parents. He met Maethoriel through his mother and they came to be friends over the years. Grair's favorite activities are going to market and haggling with shop owner's as well as flirting with their daughters. This trait has gotten him kicked out of several stores to the amusement of everyone in his family. Although he is not technically taken, he does have a special fondness for a wind-maid named Ilmarinen.
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Maethoriel watched the young ones from her perch atop a wall. It was always interesting to watch young upstarts try and conquer other young upstarts. Although, she was slightly dissapointed by the pay offs, oh well. She always found it infinitely more entertaining to watch the guards cower in front of her, it did not take to much, just a follow through on a particularly vicious threat. The self-proclaimed woman of Mordor shook her head while behind her wall she heard the familiar lumber of a friend.

"Having fun at other's expenses, lass?" The dwarf questioned, yanking the woman off the high wall by her cloak.

She let out a small yelp of surprise as she landed in a lump on the hard pavement, "One day something bad is going to happen whe you do that, and you shall feel aweful."

The copper haired dwarf shrugged and didn't respond, "Another squabble?"

She nodded, "Yes, I thought that the street urchins of this place would be smarter than provoking guards while around others."

"Dissapointed?" He laughed.

"Very much so," she replied dryly.

"Going to jump in for a heroic and overly dramtic assist, Thorn?" The dwarf asked with a raised brow.

She gave a barking laugh and said in a low deadly tone, "No, I think I will watch them squirm."

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Heavens no. Hell Yeah.


Set 1: Nurr | Set 2: Me

((Sorry, Daewen, you must have posted after I opened up this page, I didn't see your post until just now. His name is... *makes something up* Elod (e-lod). Sorry about that.))

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Thanks Nurratiel, *Ennostiel*, PD, and Githoniel

( Thank you, I think last time you opened this rp I asked for the guys name and you had to make one up. lol)

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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

((Oh... Well, I leave things to the last minute.))

Lesao didn't fight back when Elod ordered the men to bind her. They obeyed with as much force as he had intended. The ropes burned her wrists. Elod shoved Lesao in front of him and forced her to walk. "To the prison, murderer." he said. They walked up the streets, the children playing would stop and look at her with wide eyes. They had never seen a murderer before. A mother who was out watching her children hustled them inside, she looked at Lesao as if she could hurt them even though she was bound tightly. She almost cried. They don't know what really happened. "Why are you doing this, Elod?" she asked him, stopping for a moment.
"Because Lord Aragorn ordered me to rid the city of-" he said, but Lesao interupted him.
"I know that's why they think you're doing it. But why are you doing this to me? Following me everywhere, and spiling my chances of living in peace." she said.
"Why don't you just give up? It would save you the pity of others. If you let yourself be killed, you could save the hurting of those back in Rohan. The ones who knew him." he said, not bothering to say who 'he' was, he knew she knew.
"I will never give up." she said narrowing her eyes.
Elod guestured to the now-empty street in front of them. "Then be my guest."

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Thanks Nurratiel, *Ennostiel*, PD, and Githoniel

Deawen Followed the group quietly not caring if she was seen or not. Her horses hooves clopped on the pavement as they followed. THe group stopped for a Moment and Deawen took the chance.
" Elod You rat what bird have you caught now?" Deawen asked mockingly as she manuvered her horse around the group so that she was infront of 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

Lesao looked up to the new comer. Rat is the right name for him, she thought. She noticed how the woman manuvered her horse so she then stood in front of them. She looked the guards coming with Elod and herself. There weren't too many, I could take them, she thought before she could stop herself. No! she told herself, you won't do that.

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Thanks Nurratiel, *Ennostiel*, PD, and Githoniel

Deawen stared at the little group her expression bored and with little interest. She didn't like to be ignored so she remained on her horse to remind Elod of the pecking order. Deawen watched the girl steadily, trying to figure out why the girl seemed fimilar.

_________________
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

Deawen stared at the little group her expression bored and with little interest. She didn't like to be ignored so she remained on her horse to remind Elod of the pecking order. Deawen watched the girl steadily, trying to figure out why the girl seemed fimilar.

_________________
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