User:Kerda2007/Linathor

Linathor
Beware, evil! Linathor knows YOUR name.
World:	Landroval
Vocation:	Historian
Class:	Lore-master
Race:	Race of Man
Region:	Gondor (Langstrand)
Age:
Height:
Sex:	Male
Skin:	Fair
Hair:	Hahahaha
Eye:	Two of them, and they are fixed upon his task.

Background

The Family Line

Anfalas natives Rodart and Gweneth Kinsfeld met and fell in love. Gweneth is a scholar of note in her Lord Golasgil's fiefdom. There were rumours that Gweneth was the illegitimate daughter of Lord Golasgil and his former maidservant, Nitriti.

These unproven rumours have not tarnished Golasgil's honour since he remains unmarried. Gweneth, daughter of Nitriti, was raised and cared for in Golasgil's household and educated in the ways of the fiefdom and the scholarly arts. Eventually she met and fell in love with Rodart Kinsfeld, a labourer who frequented Golasgil's market. The Kinsfeld Family have owned and operated a mercantile that delivers goods throughout the area from the River Morthond to the southwestern coastline nearing the River Lefnui, now for over 80 years. Rodart and Gweneth were married with the blessings of both Lord Golasgil and the Kinsfeld family. They were wed and had three children, of which Linathor is the eldest. Rodart and Gweneth own a farm overlooking the Bay of Belfalas, about 110 miles west of Edhellond. Here they have unofficially retired, although both Rodart and Gweneth work almost as much as their two other children (who are very active stakeholders in the Kinsfeld Mercantile).

Linathor's Coming of Age

Linathor was a lad of slight build who worked with his father, but lacked the endurance and strength to carry on the work. It was in his teen years that Linathor showed a natural talent in the scholarly arts when he inadvertently set fire to a nearby chair in the house while reading one of his mother's books. Gweneth was astounded since that book was gifted to her from an elderly scholar in Lord Golasgil's library. Even more remarkable, it was written in Sindarin - a language that Linathor was not taught, and he deciphered the intonation and words himself.

Moving from Youth to Man

Shortly thereafter, Linathor began studying in Lord Golasgil's household as a scholar. Within two years, he had mastered the books and arts taught to him and was sent to Minas Tirith (sponsored by a proud Golasgil) on a charge to become a Gondorian Lore-Master. Following five years of patient study, Linathor completed his testing and earned the title of Lore-Master. He then developed an interest in his mother's genealogy. His grandmother, Nitriti was formerly known as Forwen Leafheld, and hailed originally from Eriador. Linathor finished his initial duties as a Gondorian Lore-Master that year before seeking leave of his masters.

With naught but a staff and teary-eyed blessings from his parents, Linathor set off for Eriador to discover what he could about his mother's family, and to quell or verify rumours that a shadow was gathering around a small area in the north called The Shire.

Physical Description:

Slight of build, slightly above average height, slightly below average constitution. Linathor is not very daunting, but what's inside makes up for his rather homely appearance. Spending a lot of time running, you can imagine that he keeps lean and mean. His sharp green eyes can discern lies and evil without hesitation, and his quick reflexes have saved his hide many a time.

Personality:

With opposing extremes of joviality and seriousness, Linathor can be a difficult man to be around. If he commits to something, he values it deeply and pursues it with all his being. He hates injustice and those who prey on the weak and often lengthens a simple matter into an epic event by helping everyone along the way to his original goal. He is nary idle and rarely says No to those in distress. He values loyalty and honesty in his companions - traits that are extremely difficult to find - and so he general travels alone, relying only on the unwavering devotion of the animals he summons with his ancient knowledge. This solitude keeps him safe, but distant from others. He has been accused of being aloof at times when he is merely cautious. His desire to learn of his mother's family and keep his homeland safe is what drives him when all else fails.

Linathor's heart is a closely guarded secret and although he shares mirth with anyone who offers, he will not be so quick to yield to his deepest desires. He has not forgotten the kindness of Golasgil's house and maintains an unswerving loyalty to his homeland of Anfalas, fostered by his intensive training and deep-rooted sense of honour. He sees the plight and decline of the Elves, and his heart aches to assist them in attaining peace.

"The weakness within us is something that must be actively sought after and fenced in. Then, with a strong light shining upon that weakness, eliminated with intense effort and no quarter. Only then will evil be defeated - inside and out."

So sayeth Linathor, Lore-master of Gondor - of the land of Anfalas, fiefdom of Golasgil.

Journal (Most recent first)

Hope - it is Rising

My travels have lead me to a few stalwart and hardy adventures that call themselves "Band of Hope". They seem trustworthy and unusually dedicated to their pursuits of the One God of Middle-Earth (and beyond). I have aligned myself with their purpose and joined their jovial Band of Brothers. Recently a new arrival, who goes by the (obviously made-up) name of Mornach has crossed my thoughts. He seems... familiar, somehow. He has shown me a few "tricks" to add to my retinue for skinning creatures of the wild. He is a wild sort and appears to have suffered some sort of trauma. A shame for such a young man - and yet I can't help that he has grand potential. He is certainly unmatched with the bow!

The Greenfields and Oatbarton

Brockenborings is a town of little hope. The Hobbits are all huddled in a valley around a modest pond. For Hobbits, they would consider this place crowded. To the east is some sort of minor settlement called Scary where mining and exploratory operations occur. North of Brockenborings is a vast field, aptly called the Greenfields. There are some odd happenings that belie these peaceful fields. To the east and west are camps teeming with hostile orcs, and yet the road north is not patrolled or harassed. It's as if they are waiting for something...

I passed warily northward through a sparse forested area, only to emerge to another Hobbit town! This place is called Oatbarton, and indeed illustrates the hardiness of these small folk (I'm starting to use the word stubbornness and hardiness interchangeably I've noticed). This town is surrounding to the north by wolves, and to the east by giant locusts. There is much happening here, and much is asked of me, the "Giant Man, Friend of the Bounders". * groan *

I can go no further. The road north is choked with wolves. The eastern path is swarming with locusts and their devilish queens. To the west are impassable cliffs. Still, I have sworn my aid (yet again), upon my return from assisting Radagast... and Trestlebridge, and Bree. Valar protect us!

Things forgotten, now left behind.

My travels to, and through, Eriador have led me to chance upon much ancient lore. I've discovered many lost scrolls and artifacts from as far back as the Second Age throughout the commonly-found ruins and ancient strongholds (now often overrun with hostile orcs, or worse). I collected these, in random hopes of learning more of my grandmother's family (the Leafheld name). This line of research has proved mostly fruitless, although I have used my research to craft some Scrolls of Power for other locals who have banded together to fight the seemingly-endless evil surrounding Bree. I can only hope that my skills of scribing wards and words of protection proved equal to that which they faced.

After selling what little remained, I sought out a Hobbit in Brockenborings who calls himself a "Ranger" to teach me some rudimentary foraging skills. These new skills will allow me to scavenge the many fallen trees and create items to provide a modest income - if I do not put them to use myself. These tiny people are a sturdy lot. For my assistance in their meager happenings, they have called me "Friend of the Bounders", apparently some title of honour among their limited law-enforcement.

Shadows, real and beyond

I had the fortunate occurence to encounter a noble and admirable (if cranky) Hobbit named Old Mugwort. The little man is far away from home, but certainly dedicated to the travellers and sparse settlers of the Lone-Lands. Last night I assisted him by slaying a rather troublesome wolf named Shadepaw, thanks to the lure of Mugwort's fine cooking. The wolves here are much larger and more vicious than seen in my travels. They hunt alone and are sometimes accompanied by orcs (or worse, a forced half-breed known as half-orcs). The locals call these giant wolves "wargs" and it sounds appropriately sinister.

After that, I travelled briefly to Ost Guruth and into the vile swamp known as the Harloeg. There is a wise man named Aric of the Eglain who knows much about the Dead. Radagast has set me on a path of great difficult and horrific danger in the Red Swamp, but my fervour and hatred of the evil that is spreading like a disease though Eriador is increasing almost daily. I will return to Aric after I have completed my tasks in the North Downs (for I have given my word to assist those noble and embattled men) and find out what sage advise Aric has that can assist Radagast.

Trestlebridge

This is a beautiful land. [1]

I have recently befriended a good man named Talbot Hinton who, until recently, was honoured among his peers. Unfortunately, he was accused of falling asleep at his post while orcs pillaged his charge. He pleaded with me to help exhonorate his name and I agreed. After discovering that he was drugged by some foul orc concoction, I brought my findings on his behalf to Captain Trotter of the local militia. Talbot has since be reinstated and Captain Trotter has asked me to assist in bringing an end to this new devilry of the orcs. If I can find enough brave souls to assist, I hope to accomplish this in the near future and bring some answers to the Men of Trestlebridge. I hope that I can convince them to seek proper aid as well. They are proud, and not without allies to the south.

Bree Land

By Eru, the lands north of Bree are infested with orcs! I am attempting to make my way to Trestlebridge to see if I can assist the men of that town, but the hills are choked with evil. I must stay for a while and see what I can do.

Ost Guruth

This bastion of the Free Peoples has inspired me. After the prolific and angry orcs I've encountered, plus the demonic spiders it's no wonder they have named this place the Lone-Lands. What respecting, normal citizen could possibly want to settle this dangerous place? I am thankful for Radagast who has helped organize some resources in this area. I was hoping to make my way east to Rivendell, but even the well-marked roads are too dangerous for me at this time. Further research into my mother's family line must wait until I can manage to travel safely (or at least well-armed) through the Trollshaws.

The Barrows

Of the horrors in the Great Barrow, southwest of Bree, I shall say little. Myself and some fellows have vanquished much evil from this horrific place and many a peace-loving Man of Bree may sleep easily. Of the demon Sambrog and the hateful creatures that served him, there shall be heard precious little. Peace has been restored. For now. It is unfortunate that I must yet return to this place to retrieve some ancient chalices. These chalices, empowered and buried with the Men of Cardolan long dead, may hold some warding power against those who need to travel this cursed area.

Bree

I have found a bastion of strength and commerce in Bree! My arrival in Archet was disappointing, and I thought that little strength remained in the north after what happened there. Only upon entering the "town" of Bree have I renewed my hopes of finding information on the Leafheld line. I have also been fortunate enough to encounter a master trainer here who can assist in furthering my studies. I thought five years was a long time, but now I see that my life has much ahead of me. The men of this land are fairly short-lived (like my father's family), and I pray to Eru that my lifespan will follow that of my mother, for I have much to do. My master has told me of the Elves in Eriador and that I should seek out the knowledge of the Grey Havens or a place called Imladris to learn of the Leafheld line. He tells me that it is his belief that Leafheld is not a Race of Man family name, but perhaps translated from an Elven name. I have met many good souls here, and I am determined to stay for a while and help rid their surrounding lands of evil influences in my limited manner. Imladris is said to be hidden in a valley near the Misty Mountains, and not to be found by unfriendly eyes. From THE LOREMASTER TRAINER in the Scholar's Stair, I have learned that some elves near the secret war-camp of Esteldin may be able to assist me in finding Imladris. Onward, to seek them!

Esteldin

This is a strange land.. nestled in the middle of the North Downs is a massive bastion of men in a hidden valley called Esteldin. Here they wage war against the forces of Angmar that trickle down from Ram Duath, a dangerous and blacked area northeast of here - the cusp of Angmar. The men here are noble Dunedain, and of pure heart. They are heavily beset from giant spiders and orcs and trolls... plus an indigenous population of giant natives that seem to have allied themselves with the orcs and evil hillmen of the Ram Duath.

There is another here, a woman, named Elamore that I have met. We found ourselves battling orcs and trolls together southeast of Esteldin, in a deadly place called Dol Dinen. She is mighty, wielding an overly-big two-handed sword with skill. I have found her to be... interesting. She is battle-ready, but gentle-spirited. Her cropped hair and combat prowess belie a softer side. We have honed our skills to be a potent force against the evils of Angmar already. The Rangers of Esteldin have commended us on our dedication to helping them pushing back this tide of wretched evil. The Rangers have assigned us some tough tasks to complete, but we approach them with justice and honour, working together for strong victories. We shall remain here for a while and help with what we may. As we learn more of each other, we have fallen in love. We know not where our paths will lead us, only that we travel together.

The Ranger Daervunn has told me of a place called Lin Giliath, to the southwest of Esteldin - a haven of Elves! He suggested I talk to them and lend what aid I may. Hopefully, I can befriend some of these gentle folk, and they can speak on my behalf to someone in Imladris that I might someday gain entrance and find more information on my family line.

User:Kerda2007/Linathor

Background

Journal (Most recent first)

Navigation menu