Beriedir
Oct 3, 2018 19:23:38 GMT -5
Post by Beriedir on Oct 3, 2018 19:23:38 GMT -5
.The Facade.
Character Name:
Beriedir
Name Meaning: Protector
Age:
32
Date of Birth:
TA 2979
Race: Man
Residence:
Henneth Annûn
Profession:
Ithilien Ranger
Appearance: If one were to take a look at Beredir, some would call him average, others normal, but most would agree that he has a sense of ordinary about him. Beredir is of average height, coming in at a little over 6'2, with an athletically toned body, he is neither built like an elf or bursting out of his armor with muscles. His hair is kept at a medium length, the brown locks usually kept swept back or behind the ears. His eyes are hazel color and they convey a sense of warmth and joy. His face is slightly tan, but usually covered in a slight amount of dirt the negates his tanned flesh. Often times he uses mud to cover his skin, to help mask his scent from the orcs and their foul beasts. His beard is often kept as trimmed as possible in his line of work, running down his jawline to his chin, and up and over his lip. Despite being a ranger, Beredir still manages to look somewhat civilized.
Adorned in plain clothes of an earthly hue, Beredir appears to be just another ranger at glance. Often wearing a padded gambeson, or a shirt of chain mail with strips of cured leather for protection, More often than naught his appearance concealed behind his cloak or foliage, it is rare to see him in more socially befitting attire but it has happened. His body is pock marked by several scars, though his face is unusually clean of scars and youthful in appearance. Fortunately for him most of his injuries have been below the neck, and as such are conveniently covered by his articles of clothing.
Beredir is very much so a man of the land, he is usually dirty, his hands calloused, his feet occasionally blistered, but his trademark smile is what most people remember about him physically. Some jokingly say that his smile could light the way to Mordor, others say it appears obnoxiously out of place with the rest of his appearance. Never the less it helps him stand out ever so slightly from normality. Normality is a good thing to have as a ranger.
Personality: Loyal, stalwart, jovial, good natured, joyous; Beriedir is the man that embodies all of these attributes with a smile, and a positive outlook on everything. Beriedir is more than capable of finding the good in the bad, and will always go out of his way to help those in need; it's most of the reason he became a ranger in the first place. Loyal to his friends, he is always the first one to come to someones aid, regardless of the situation. He is also charming, and quite the flirt with the ladies, though strangely is not married and has not sired any children. Dedicated, determined, Beredir is not one to give up.
Beriedir feels a need to protect all those who cannot protect themselves, and wholeheartedly believes in his duty as a ranger. This belief is what separates him from his older brother who strictly believes in service to Gondor over people. However he is known to let his emotions get the better of him, to let them guide his thought process, for him to quickly react without thinking things through, which can sometimes land him in a sticky situation. Fortunately for him, Beriedir is rarely not without a good friend, as his good nature and personality make him easily likable for most people. At the same time other people will outright hate him and his personality. However Beredir has a fear of leading, and will deter such a position at every chance he gets.
Beredir suffers from nightmares of those he has lost, having lost several rangers, to include some under his command, he suffers from terrible dreams, often tossing and turning in his sleep. He tosses and turns, sweats, and sometimes even speaks in his sleep, often begging for someone not to go before suddenly waking up and gasping for air. These deaths have left a scar on his mind that will likely never be healed.
While at home in the woods and wilds, Beriedir has begun to grow an appreciation for the quiet life of small villages and hamlets, deciding that such a place is where he would like to live when he grows too old or crippled to be a ranger. He has recently gotten it into his head that retiring to a small farm would be perfect, despite his complete lack of experience farming, he believes that the simple life is for him. However Beriedir is quick to voice his dislike for big towns, or bustling cities like Minas Tirith and of course Osgiliath with its Uruk problem. He is not the man who would blend in well with a gathering of nobles, or people of wealth or influence; he would like raid all the finger sandwiches for himself. His lack of manners in such a 'polite' social environment are lacking, more so after 14 years as a ranger, what little social graces he was taught as a boy are now lost. But if you stick him in a tavern, well you'd best watch out.
A lover of drink, capable of handling several pints, though he is known to get quite drunk if left unattended, and prone to bursting out in song with the other drunkards. Thankfully it is a rare occasion for him to get into any fights while drinking, so usually Beredir devolves into a smiling and giggling mess of a man that needs a leash put on him to stop him from running off, and passing out somewhere random. Beriedir also uses drink to help him sleep, plagued by nightmares, he can often not sleep without some help. He is also no stranger to apothecaries, and can often be found collecting various plants while operating in the wilds.
Parents:Ceberion-Father Hernoril-Mother
Sibling(s): Baradir-Brother
Spouse: None
Children: None
History: Born the second son of a small, Gondorian noble family, Beriedir lived a fairly good life in his early ages. Despite being able to trace his ancestry back to the land of Ithilien, he grew up among the grand architecture of Minas Tirith with his parents and older brother. His parents had fled their lands in 2954, being among some of the last people to do so, they settled in the upper levels of Minas Tirith, where their nobility secured them connections, and they could continue many aspects of their former lives; it was believed that one day Gondor would retake these lost lands.
This meant that Beriedir grew up among the higher levels of Gondorian society, and as such he was awarded such privileges such as schooling, though he expressed little interest in such endeavors. Instead the young Beriedir would often sneak down to the lower levels of the city, where he had made many friends, and would often lead his merry band of misfits on grand, albeit imaginary, adventures; sometimes to the annoyance of everyone else. Though armed with a quick wit, and a very likable personality meant that if Beriedir got into trouble, it wasn't much or wasn't something he could get out of. Of course he was always surrounded by his friends, with whom he would get into fights for and vice versa. This was all however done at the annoyance of his older brother, who was often tasked with either watching, or reigning in the young Beriedir.
While the brothers were often at odds due to their conflicting personalities, they were still quite close despite the age gap between them. Of course their difference in personalities meant that they would go down different paths in life, with Beriedir choosing the more adventurous route in becoming and Ithilien Ranger. His desire for adventure found him more at home in the wilds, and he found himself a quick learner of many skills such as tracking, hunting, as well as use of the blade and bow. While he would never achieve the same mastery in these skills as an elf, he was quite skilled in his abilities, and would go on to hone his abilities for over a decade.
Of course almost daily incursions of orcs meant that there was no shortage of time to practice, and life as a ranger was very learn or die as it wasn't uncommon for novice rangers to die in their first encounter. Beriedir still remembers his first encounter with an orc raiding party that had ambushed the ranger patrol he was in. The orcs had detected the wayward rangers first, and began to stalk them through the woods of Ithilien, and if it wasn't for the veteran Ranger who had led them, the orcs would have taken the rangers by surprise and slaughtered them all. While some of the other novice rangers were killed, Beredir managed to triumph that day, personally slaying two orcs, though he was injured after taking an arrow to his left shoulder. This would be but the first of many battles and injuries to come.
The biggest turn of events for Beredir occurred in 3007, after nearly a decade of service as a ranger, and earning quite the reputation to boot, he was picked to lead a party to ambush and kill an orc chieftain that had headed South from Minas Morgul. Beredir and his party of 20 men set out, and they stalked this chieftain and his host for nearly two weeks before closing in on them. Unfortunately the element of surprise was not enough to carry them through the day. The rangers still set forth with their mission, they infiltrated the camp at night, the throats of the sentries slit, the guards put down with an arrow, they moved in deeper into the orc camp. Many orcs were slain before anyone knew what was going on, but then he showed up. An orc taller than any Beredir had ever seen before, his skin was dark, clad in scraps of armor from slain Gondorians, his body ripe with muscles, hair tangled, and the heads of his enemies lay dangling from his belt. The chieftain had rallied what remained of his host of orcs and let forth a loud cry that shook the world before more orcs poured forth from the darkness.
Many rangers fell before anyone had a chance to react to what was happening as things turned from a raid into a pitched battle beneath the stars. Beriedir pleaded for his brothers to retreat, he screamed at the top of lungs, yet it seemed that no one could hear him over the roars of battle, the clanking of swords, the screams of men as they were cut down, and the cackle of orcs as they slaughtered his brothers.
Unfortunately his cries and please were answered by the wrong thing, the chieftain himself set eyes upon Beriedir, and strode across that patch of dirt that the orcs had claimed as theirs. Time seemed to slow as the two locked blades, a crash of metal so loud it seemed to sound like thunder itself, Beriedir with his speed and finesse, and the orc with his raw strength. Unfortunately things began to turn in favor of the orc as Beriedir found himself on the defense, he struggled to keep his blade raised as the orc brought down blow, after blow against the ranger's sword. Beriedir found himself kneeling on the ground, his arms trembling as sweat began to drip from his forehead before his mind was filled with pain as the orc landed a blow to his face with a gloved hand, and quickly brought his blade down against Beriedir's broken guard. The blade cut against the ranger's light armor from his right peck down to the beginning of his stomach, red blood began to seep out from the wound as Beriedir fall back against the ground, gasping for air as red pain began to wash over him. His vision began to fade, he certainly thought that this was the end before he heard a loud cry, followed by the swirl of a green cloak as blades locked together, the orc let out a loud, thunderous cry as the unknown ranger landed a blow on the foul beast, black blood flowing forth like a wave, and that was all that Beriedir remembered.
Waking up four days later in Henneth Annûn, stricken to bed, his body overcome with pain, he strained to sit up. It is from here that he learned of the tale of his unfortunate raid, of how only six rangers returned that day, and of how Beriedir had been dragged off the field of battle by another ranger and carried before stumbling into another patrol of rangers who whisked Beriedir back Henneth Annûn
. Beriedir would spend the next couple of months recovering from his wounds, though while superficial, had become infected, but he was expected to make a full recovery. He also tracked down this ranger who saved him, and quickly set about to become friends with the man.
For the next four years, following his recovery, Beriedir would set about working on rebuilding his reputation, his determination and stubbornness leading him to sign up for every challenging task set forth. He remembered the advice his brother gave him "we pick ourselves up when we are knocked down, if not for ourselves for Gondor". Beriedir has now signed up for a scouting mission into Northern Ithilien to record troop movements near and around Minas Morgul.
Character Name:
Beriedir
Name Meaning: Protector
Age:
32
Date of Birth:
TA 2979
Race: Man
Residence:
Henneth Annûn
Profession:
Ithilien Ranger
Appearance: If one were to take a look at Beredir, some would call him average, others normal, but most would agree that he has a sense of ordinary about him. Beredir is of average height, coming in at a little over 6'2, with an athletically toned body, he is neither built like an elf or bursting out of his armor with muscles. His hair is kept at a medium length, the brown locks usually kept swept back or behind the ears. His eyes are hazel color and they convey a sense of warmth and joy. His face is slightly tan, but usually covered in a slight amount of dirt the negates his tanned flesh. Often times he uses mud to cover his skin, to help mask his scent from the orcs and their foul beasts. His beard is often kept as trimmed as possible in his line of work, running down his jawline to his chin, and up and over his lip. Despite being a ranger, Beredir still manages to look somewhat civilized.
Adorned in plain clothes of an earthly hue, Beredir appears to be just another ranger at glance. Often wearing a padded gambeson, or a shirt of chain mail with strips of cured leather for protection, More often than naught his appearance concealed behind his cloak or foliage, it is rare to see him in more socially befitting attire but it has happened. His body is pock marked by several scars, though his face is unusually clean of scars and youthful in appearance. Fortunately for him most of his injuries have been below the neck, and as such are conveniently covered by his articles of clothing.
Beredir is very much so a man of the land, he is usually dirty, his hands calloused, his feet occasionally blistered, but his trademark smile is what most people remember about him physically. Some jokingly say that his smile could light the way to Mordor, others say it appears obnoxiously out of place with the rest of his appearance. Never the less it helps him stand out ever so slightly from normality. Normality is a good thing to have as a ranger.
Personality: Loyal, stalwart, jovial, good natured, joyous; Beriedir is the man that embodies all of these attributes with a smile, and a positive outlook on everything. Beriedir is more than capable of finding the good in the bad, and will always go out of his way to help those in need; it's most of the reason he became a ranger in the first place. Loyal to his friends, he is always the first one to come to someones aid, regardless of the situation. He is also charming, and quite the flirt with the ladies, though strangely is not married and has not sired any children. Dedicated, determined, Beredir is not one to give up.
Beriedir feels a need to protect all those who cannot protect themselves, and wholeheartedly believes in his duty as a ranger. This belief is what separates him from his older brother who strictly believes in service to Gondor over people. However he is known to let his emotions get the better of him, to let them guide his thought process, for him to quickly react without thinking things through, which can sometimes land him in a sticky situation. Fortunately for him, Beriedir is rarely not without a good friend, as his good nature and personality make him easily likable for most people. At the same time other people will outright hate him and his personality. However Beredir has a fear of leading, and will deter such a position at every chance he gets.
Beredir suffers from nightmares of those he has lost, having lost several rangers, to include some under his command, he suffers from terrible dreams, often tossing and turning in his sleep. He tosses and turns, sweats, and sometimes even speaks in his sleep, often begging for someone not to go before suddenly waking up and gasping for air. These deaths have left a scar on his mind that will likely never be healed.
While at home in the woods and wilds, Beriedir has begun to grow an appreciation for the quiet life of small villages and hamlets, deciding that such a place is where he would like to live when he grows too old or crippled to be a ranger. He has recently gotten it into his head that retiring to a small farm would be perfect, despite his complete lack of experience farming, he believes that the simple life is for him. However Beriedir is quick to voice his dislike for big towns, or bustling cities like Minas Tirith and of course Osgiliath with its Uruk problem. He is not the man who would blend in well with a gathering of nobles, or people of wealth or influence; he would like raid all the finger sandwiches for himself. His lack of manners in such a 'polite' social environment are lacking, more so after 14 years as a ranger, what little social graces he was taught as a boy are now lost. But if you stick him in a tavern, well you'd best watch out.
A lover of drink, capable of handling several pints, though he is known to get quite drunk if left unattended, and prone to bursting out in song with the other drunkards. Thankfully it is a rare occasion for him to get into any fights while drinking, so usually Beredir devolves into a smiling and giggling mess of a man that needs a leash put on him to stop him from running off, and passing out somewhere random. Beriedir also uses drink to help him sleep, plagued by nightmares, he can often not sleep without some help. He is also no stranger to apothecaries, and can often be found collecting various plants while operating in the wilds.
.The Blood.
Parents:
Sibling(s): Baradir-Brother
Spouse: None
Children: None
History: Born the second son of a small, Gondorian noble family, Beriedir lived a fairly good life in his early ages. Despite being able to trace his ancestry back to the land of Ithilien, he grew up among the grand architecture of Minas Tirith with his parents and older brother. His parents had fled their lands in 2954, being among some of the last people to do so, they settled in the upper levels of Minas Tirith, where their nobility secured them connections, and they could continue many aspects of their former lives; it was believed that one day Gondor would retake these lost lands.
This meant that Beriedir grew up among the higher levels of Gondorian society, and as such he was awarded such privileges such as schooling, though he expressed little interest in such endeavors. Instead the young Beriedir would often sneak down to the lower levels of the city, where he had made many friends, and would often lead his merry band of misfits on grand, albeit imaginary, adventures; sometimes to the annoyance of everyone else. Though armed with a quick wit, and a very likable personality meant that if Beriedir got into trouble, it wasn't much or wasn't something he could get out of. Of course he was always surrounded by his friends, with whom he would get into fights for and vice versa. This was all however done at the annoyance of his older brother, who was often tasked with either watching, or reigning in the young Beriedir.
While the brothers were often at odds due to their conflicting personalities, they were still quite close despite the age gap between them. Of course their difference in personalities meant that they would go down different paths in life, with Beriedir choosing the more adventurous route in becoming and Ithilien Ranger. His desire for adventure found him more at home in the wilds, and he found himself a quick learner of many skills such as tracking, hunting, as well as use of the blade and bow. While he would never achieve the same mastery in these skills as an elf, he was quite skilled in his abilities, and would go on to hone his abilities for over a decade.
Of course almost daily incursions of orcs meant that there was no shortage of time to practice, and life as a ranger was very learn or die as it wasn't uncommon for novice rangers to die in their first encounter. Beriedir still remembers his first encounter with an orc raiding party that had ambushed the ranger patrol he was in. The orcs had detected the wayward rangers first, and began to stalk them through the woods of Ithilien, and if it wasn't for the veteran Ranger who had led them, the orcs would have taken the rangers by surprise and slaughtered them all. While some of the other novice rangers were killed, Beredir managed to triumph that day, personally slaying two orcs, though he was injured after taking an arrow to his left shoulder. This would be but the first of many battles and injuries to come.
The biggest turn of events for Beredir occurred in 3007, after nearly a decade of service as a ranger, and earning quite the reputation to boot, he was picked to lead a party to ambush and kill an orc chieftain that had headed South from Minas Morgul. Beredir and his party of 20 men set out, and they stalked this chieftain and his host for nearly two weeks before closing in on them. Unfortunately the element of surprise was not enough to carry them through the day. The rangers still set forth with their mission, they infiltrated the camp at night, the throats of the sentries slit, the guards put down with an arrow, they moved in deeper into the orc camp. Many orcs were slain before anyone knew what was going on, but then he showed up. An orc taller than any Beredir had ever seen before, his skin was dark, clad in scraps of armor from slain Gondorians, his body ripe with muscles, hair tangled, and the heads of his enemies lay dangling from his belt. The chieftain had rallied what remained of his host of orcs and let forth a loud cry that shook the world before more orcs poured forth from the darkness.
Many rangers fell before anyone had a chance to react to what was happening as things turned from a raid into a pitched battle beneath the stars. Beriedir pleaded for his brothers to retreat, he screamed at the top of lungs, yet it seemed that no one could hear him over the roars of battle, the clanking of swords, the screams of men as they were cut down, and the cackle of orcs as they slaughtered his brothers.
Unfortunately his cries and please were answered by the wrong thing, the chieftain himself set eyes upon Beriedir, and strode across that patch of dirt that the orcs had claimed as theirs. Time seemed to slow as the two locked blades, a crash of metal so loud it seemed to sound like thunder itself, Beriedir with his speed and finesse, and the orc with his raw strength. Unfortunately things began to turn in favor of the orc as Beriedir found himself on the defense, he struggled to keep his blade raised as the orc brought down blow, after blow against the ranger's sword. Beriedir found himself kneeling on the ground, his arms trembling as sweat began to drip from his forehead before his mind was filled with pain as the orc landed a blow to his face with a gloved hand, and quickly brought his blade down against Beriedir's broken guard. The blade cut against the ranger's light armor from his right peck down to the beginning of his stomach, red blood began to seep out from the wound as Beriedir fall back against the ground, gasping for air as red pain began to wash over him. His vision began to fade, he certainly thought that this was the end before he heard a loud cry, followed by the swirl of a green cloak as blades locked together, the orc let out a loud, thunderous cry as the unknown ranger landed a blow on the foul beast, black blood flowing forth like a wave, and that was all that Beriedir remembered.
Waking up four days later in Henneth Annûn, stricken to bed, his body overcome with pain, he strained to sit up. It is from here that he learned of the tale of his unfortunate raid, of how only six rangers returned that day, and of how Beriedir had been dragged off the field of battle by another ranger and carried before stumbling into another patrol of rangers who whisked Beriedir back Henneth Annûn
. Beriedir would spend the next couple of months recovering from his wounds, though while superficial, had become infected, but he was expected to make a full recovery. He also tracked down this ranger who saved him, and quickly set about to become friends with the man.
For the next four years, following his recovery, Beriedir would set about working on rebuilding his reputation, his determination and stubbornness leading him to sign up for every challenging task set forth. He remembered the advice his brother gave him "we pick ourselves up when we are knocked down, if not for ourselves for Gondor". Beriedir has now signed up for a scouting mission into Northern Ithilien to record troop movements near and around Minas Morgul.