(can't get enough RPing! My newest charrie is who I will be using.)


Name: Callie Seastar
Race: Elf
Rank: adventurer
Spouse: None
Age: about 2,000 years...or so...
Appearance: Long brown hair, and soft, dark brown eyes. Pixie like face with freckles.
Weapons: she prefers the sword to her longbow, but is efficient in both.

History and Personality: Formerly from Rivendell, Callie has made it her mission and dream to seek out adventure. She is feisty, and loves her horse Falcone to death. Insult her horse, you insult her. She is somewhat of a tomboy, but does enjoy cooking. She has been traveling for about three years, always in search of a good adventure or fun.

May I?

Name: Rhavaniel Falathiel
Age: 3732
Gender: Female
Race: Elf
Appearance: Short for an elf, but with bright green eyes and pale skin. Her hair is long, unyielding and black. She wears mostly dark colours and only her mother's ring around her neck for jewlery.
Personality: Since the betrayal of her husband deeply wounded her pride, she became more easy to anger than perhaps an elf should be. Is very loyal and places herself last in most situations.
Weapons: A treasured black longbow with gold markings and long arrows fletched with owl feathers. Carries knives and an old longsword.
History: Kept quiet. It is known that she was a highly respected warrior and fought for Lindon in the Battle of Fornost and Greenwood during the Siege of Baradûr. Was a close friend to Thranduil and his family, but disappeared after the disgrace of her husband following his imprisonment, torture, and subsequent treachery during the Last Alliance. The information he gave led to the storming of King Oropher's camp and his subsequent death. Locien was released from his prison, but never returned to his family or Mirkwood again. Her twin brother spent some time looking for her, but eventually gave her up for dead or fading.
Other info: Spent long years as Mirkwood's marchwarden and then as a well respected and successful field marshal. Is known to the population of Dale as she and her twin brother Sadron the White carried on her mother's trade practices after her death.

Name: Sadron the White
Gender: Male
Race: Elf
Appearance: Tall, slender and pale; white skin and hair with intelligent pinkish eyes.
Personality: A very gentle character compared to his twin, who does not believe in violence of any kind. Was once arrested on account of harbouring an uruk child and trying to teach it elvish. An extremely curious elf who handles himself with much restraint.
Weapons: The longbow if necessary.
History: N/A

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. O r b i s N o n S u f f i c i t .

(Sure!)

Callie ran around with her horse, Falcone in the field, playing with him as one might play with a puppy. She laughed and he whinnied, both of them clearly enjoying themselves. Her light blue dress swept the grass at her feet as she ran and dodged Falcone. The animal snorted. "What's wrong? Can't you catch me?" she giggled as Falcone stomped his hoof.

(you still in on this, Rhavaniel?)

@ Sure

"Aaye!" Rhavaniel called, her horse rearing slightly as her clear voice cut through the air.
The elf raised a hand in greeting and pushed forward towards the brown-haired figure in the field. Her bow knocked against her back in a comforting manner, reminding her of her status as one of Mirkwood's Royal Hunters. It was worth more than the horse she had bought on the outskirts of Bree.
She had been unsure about drawing attention to herself, but she had acted on instinct. It had been years since she had willingly greeted another elf. She sat straight and headed towards the woman feeling her wariness growing as she grew nearer.

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. O r b i s N o n S u f f i c i t .

Callie smiled and waved, recognizing another elf "Hallo!" she reached up to pet Falcone as the other woman drew near. Callie felt no fear. She smiled widely at the woman as she approached. "Been a while since I have seen another living person out here!"

"These are dangerous times to be travelling alone. I suppose we keep our business to the shadows,"Rhavaniel replied with a wary smile "It would not do for elvish spies to be perceived around these parts. War is coming, but not quite here yet," she stayed seated and reached to her saddlebag, pulling out a flask "May I offer you a drink and inquire after your name and companions, mylady? Surely you are not alone in these troubled lands."
Her horse danced a little, stepping sideways and dragging its hooves; It seemed impatient to run again, and voiced its anger with a loud whinny.

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. O r b i s N o n S u f f i c i t .

She nodded and took the flask, dipping her head in thanks and respect "Thank you, milady, I am just an adventurer. I have no companions, but I know how to fend for myself." she knew there was nothing she could say that would convince this woman she wasn't an enemy, and it did look suspicious that she was a girl traveling alone. The woman seemed so wary of her, it was almost funny, but she didn't laugh.

Rhavaniel ventured a careful smile "Then we are alike, you and I,"
She slid off her horse and patted its neck "Tell me, I have been in the wilderness for somedays now- Is there a village or town nearby where I might be able to buy provisions? I have only lembas to offer- And I confess even it has seen better days."
The saddle bags were wet, as was the elf herself. She had been riding along a stream when the skies had opened up and poured down- The rain stopping as soon as it had started.

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. O r b i s N o n S u f f i c i t .

"Oh dear..." she looked at the saddle bags sadly "There is a small town about a mile north of here. I can lead you there if you wish." she smiled and scratched behind Falcone's ears. "Falcone won't mind." she giggled as Falcone snorted. "There is a nice tavern there, you can stay and rest up and get provisions. I was thinking of going back anyway." she smiled, hoping to put the other woman at ease.

May I?

Name: Thoril Pegason
Age: 25
Race: Human
Occupation: He has been many jobs in his lifetime, ranging from a guard of Gondor, hunter, ranger and even a bartender at one point.
Spouse: None.
Appearance: Short, brown, tousled hair, with intense brown eyes. He has a well built body due to his rigorous training to join the Guard of Gondor. He wears black trousers with a brown belt, with a sheath attached to hold his long sword. He generally wears shirts on top, neatly buttoned and pressed. He also has a jacket with white cuffs. Often, when walking, he will wear his black riding gloves - more out of habit or warmth rather than riding.
Personality: Thoril has a gentle, but wary nature. He is always eager to help someone in need. He likes to spend his time in great company too.
History: Was born in Gondor, but after a few mishaps with some mischevious twins he was exiled. Thoril felt that he had learnt all he could from Gondor and so turned to a life of travelling. (The reason he wears his riding gloves: He once a hand a horse, when he was in Gondor, called treacle. He adored her very much and spent the majority of his time with her. His mother used to laugh and say she was Thoril's first girlfriend! However Treacle's life was short lived. One night the twins had entered her stables. They were drunk and thought a stable would be the best place to sleep it off and have a smoke. A fire started, taking out the stable and most of the second sanctum too. Thoril was heartbroken. He has never purchased another horse since.)

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(yes please, Naer! *huggles*)

Callie wandered the streets of the small town, gladly getting lost among the vendors selling food. She had been traveling for days. She purchased some food, then found the local Inn, she sat down, ordered and ale and relaxed as she sat down. She had done miles and miles of traveling that day. Her hair was loosely braided over her shoulder, revealing her pointed ears.

( )

Thoril walked through the streets of a small town. After a few moments he came across the towns market place. He perused the stalls with mild interest. After some deliberation he purchased some fresh meat and bread for his travels. He then continued on through the streets until he found the local inn.

Once inside he crossed over to the bar and ordered a pint of ale. He paid the bartender handsomely before turning to find a vacant table. He spied one by the window. With a shrug of his shoulders he crossed over to it and sat down. He set his ale down in front of him and pulled off his black riding gloves and placed them in his pocket. He glanced around the inn, smiling faintly to himself.

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Her eyes quickly went to the door as it opened, startled out of her relaxation. But relaxed again as the man walked in and sat down. Her eyes going to her ale once more. Then she was startled as a hand grabbed her braid. A rather smelly, disgusting man stood there, smelling her hair deeply and grinning wickedly at her. She recoiled in disgust "Sir, do not."'she said quietly and calmly. The man dropped her braid and grabbed one of her arms. "Sir! Unhand me!" she was a bit louder, yet still quiet.

Thoril looked round as he heard a woman's voice in distress. His eyes widened as he watched the man lay his hand upon the woman. He wrinkled his nose in disgust. Thoril stood and walked over to the three with determined strides. He laid a hand upon the brown haired woman's hand. "My love, I am sorry I did not see you sitting here," he flashed her a smile before looking at the man. "May I help you sir?" His voice was harsh and cold. He glared at the man.

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She blinked and her jaw dropped. Love? What? He obviously had her confused with someone else. She shook her head and was about to respond when he addressed the man. It clicked then, and she sat in silence, watching them. The man sneered at Thoril. "Care to share?" he snarled out, sending her a wink. She snorted in disgust and tried to shake his hand off, but his grip tightened and she rolled her eyes. Great.