Firawyn
12-18-2007, 08:45 PM
(OOC)This is an open RPG, anyone can join, just jump into the story. My character, Nieswyn, is on a journey to redemption (read on, you'll get it) from injustice done by King Eomer. (I like making good guys look like jerks!) Anyway, you don't need to post a profile, just make sure you describe your character/s a bit in your first post. A little background, some physical appearance, general motivations and personality stuff. You know. Have fun.
The journey begins.
************************************************** *******
Nieswyn looked up at the slope rising in front of her. Weathertop, this place was called. One more step toward Rohan.
She was a Lord's daughter, and should have been treated as such even if she was a bastard, but old prejudices die hard, and King Eomer would not forgive her for her father's betrayal.
Granted, her father Grima Wormtongue was anything but Lordly in his conduct, and it was to Nieswyn's never ending shame that her mother took with him at all.
Her mother was just a peasant girl, and perhaps she just wanted a chance for her children to rise above the status they were born to. But Nieswyn was the only child, and both of her parents were killed in the War of the Ring.
"I'm an orphan of no good standing," she reminded herself. As she walked past a small stream she saw her reflection, and stopped to ponder.
Her hair was long and black, her pale skin covering sharp features. All from her father. But her hair was thicker than her father's, and she had her mother's cold blue eyes and long lashes.
She could not complain about her body - tall and willowy with tight muscles and strong bones. She was well formed as a women of twenty nine should be, but that part of her was not showed in the steam's reflection, because she wore a man's cloths now; some light ranger's armor and a sword of no distinction. It was sharp though, and she knew how to use it, and that was the important part.
She'd been thrown out of Rohan as the child of a traitor as soon as the War was over, nearly twelve years ago now. "Curse Eomer." Nieswyn muttered to herself, as she began the climb up Weathertop. "Someday I will watch you cry on the stoop of your own home."
The journey begins.
************************************************** *******
Nieswyn looked up at the slope rising in front of her. Weathertop, this place was called. One more step toward Rohan.
She was a Lord's daughter, and should have been treated as such even if she was a bastard, but old prejudices die hard, and King Eomer would not forgive her for her father's betrayal.
Granted, her father Grima Wormtongue was anything but Lordly in his conduct, and it was to Nieswyn's never ending shame that her mother took with him at all.
Her mother was just a peasant girl, and perhaps she just wanted a chance for her children to rise above the status they were born to. But Nieswyn was the only child, and both of her parents were killed in the War of the Ring.
"I'm an orphan of no good standing," she reminded herself. As she walked past a small stream she saw her reflection, and stopped to ponder.
Her hair was long and black, her pale skin covering sharp features. All from her father. But her hair was thicker than her father's, and she had her mother's cold blue eyes and long lashes.
She could not complain about her body - tall and willowy with tight muscles and strong bones. She was well formed as a women of twenty nine should be, but that part of her was not showed in the steam's reflection, because she wore a man's cloths now; some light ranger's armor and a sword of no distinction. It was sharp though, and she knew how to use it, and that was the important part.
She'd been thrown out of Rohan as the child of a traitor as soon as the War was over, nearly twelve years ago now. "Curse Eomer." Nieswyn muttered to herself, as she began the climb up Weathertop. "Someday I will watch you cry on the stoop of your own home."