The Centre for RP Testing

[¤-Elessar-¤]

A pannel of judges sat high above a stage below. They were the Grand Council members of Heren Istarion. And this place was to be a place for intervewing potential canidates for Role-Playing bypass, which is essentially receiving the mark of a graduate of Heren Istarion without actually having to partake of the Heren Istarion classes.

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Each canidate, when given permission to post in this thread, should first present his RP profile, and a formal introduction of himself to the pannel of Judges. After that, he is bound to answer all questions raised by the judges, and he must participate in any exams or simulations the judges present to him.
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[Dáin Ironfoot I]

Name: Dain Ironfoot

Race: Dwarf

Sex: Male

Age: 154

Birthplace: The Iron Hills

Home: The Temple of Heren Istarion

Family: Son of Dain III, son of Durin VII, son of Thorin III, son of Dain II, son of Nain III, son of Gror, son of Dain I, son of Nain II, son of Oin, son of Gloin, son of Thorin I, son of Thrain I, son of Nain I, son of Durin VI, son of Durin the Deathless. Husband to Kilease Ironfoot, father to Zalek and Kuri.

Appearance: Average Dwarf height of 4'10". Brown-red beard in two forks, brown-red hair, braided in back. Stubby nose similar to most Dwarves but bright blazing brown eyes which some say mirror the fire of Aule's anvil. Wears red copper Dragon Mask, mithril body armor, and black iron gauntlets, boots, and shoulder guards. Gauntlets inscribed with dwarf runes out of ithildin. Kheled-bruk hangs on back and throwing axes in his belt.

Weapon: Kheled-bruk: "Glass [Mirrored] Axe" in Khuzdul. Made of alloy of mithril and steel. Cannot be stained, nearly unbreakable, and mirrors any light upon its surface into an amazing spectacle of colors. 2. Zirik-barak: "Silver axes" in Khuzdul. Throwing axes kept in his sash. 3. A forging hammer ("Felak"), used for crafting, as well as a weapon in close quarters. 4. Chain- used for his inventing, but can be swung overhead as a weapon, also can be fastened with a throwing axe for more damage. Hidden in armor. 5. Small silver dagger ("zirak-zigil") used for picking locks, also used as a small weapon; concealed in his gauntlet

Animal: Mountain Pony, Zaka-kem

Magic: None

Personality: Wise for a Dwarf, but sometimes makes hasty decisions. Very aggresive and very stubborn, as are most Dwarves. Quick to make friends but quick to anger, like Dwarves are. His only downfall besides his aggressiveness is his excessive greed. Doesn't fear the Elves and is friends with a few, however, Dain dislikes Ents and Orcs with a passion.

Item: A small piece of flint and steel in a pouch in his belt and a dragons scale around his neck

Abilities: Resistant to flame, weak against bitter cold. VERY skilled warrior with an axe, but clumsily wields anything else.

Class: MOUNTAIN KING!!!

History: Dain's life is a story of determination, pride, and nobility. After the fall of Erebor, Dain's mother Dilas fled to the Iron Hills in search of refuge. She was pregnant with Dain and died in childbirth, never to tell Dain whom his real father was or of the noble line he descended from. He was raised in a small Dwarf town of Khazad-ai-uhm. Above the Iron Hills lay a wasteland of what used to be, and a breeding grounds for the surviving Dragons upon Middle Earth. Dain and the small army of Dwarven men and women saved the Dwarf city upon the Iron Hills from Dragons, but failed to do so against the marauding armies of Mornclaur. Gathering what remaining Dwarves he could, he led the refugees into Ered Luin where they set up a small Dwarf city, living in secret and living off of the land. He married his wife Kilease, a fierce and tenacious Dwarf lass, and had two sons: Zalek and Kuri: of each little is known. He has pledged his allegiance to Heren Istarion, and fights valiantly in the name of the West.

[Dáin Ironfoot I]

The Grand Council members of Heren Istarion grew irritable and annoyed at the Dwarf's late arrival. The room was well lit with many torches, but no windows were present save a great yellow glass star behind the judges, the mark of Heren Istarion. But through this window came little light, for it was made to impress and intimidate those who came in front of the lords and ladies of Heren Istarion. In a row sat six people, all fair and noble, the Grand Council; another sat higher above the rest in a kingly golden chair. He was Anamatar, guild leader of Heren Istarion, and in his hands he bore a mallet of pewter and upon his head was a glorious mane of curly white, as white as the snow upon Caradhras. Dain strode in silently, yet proud as a Dwarf-lord of old.

"Lords and ladies of Heren Istarion: I am Dain Ironfoot of the Lonely Mountain! I come to you now to pass out of the classes that have been restricting me from my full potential as a full guildsman of Heren Istarion," Dain bellowed clear and deep, like a waterfall in the depths of the earth, "Oh- and Anamatar, I love what you have done with your hair!"

Anamatar gave Dain a confused glare and quickly brushed the white wig off his head. "How did that get on there?" he said, his eyes shifting side to side with a nervous manner.

[Anamatar IV]

Anamatar spoke quietly to Ingolemo who sat in an equally great throne to his left. This was a matter not to be handled lightly. Anamatar spoke.

"I have reached the final verdict: the one who put this wig on me gets stable duty for two weeks!" (ooc: :rolleyes: )

Anamatar and Ingolemo conversed once more. This time Ingolemo spoke.

"Master Dwarf, please bring to the Centre a witness to testify for you: one not in this council yet has role played with you and can testify for your ability as a role player and ability to grow as a role player."

[¤-Elessar-¤]

Elessar held up his hand, motioning for the dwarf to stay where he stood.

"Do not let the witness speak as of yet. There is something I wish to address first.

Dain, before we release you into the RPing world, there is something that must be told to you. You cannot, and are not allowed to be, lord of Erebor.

For indeed, one came before you to the forum, with the name of Dain Ironfoot. He was the first to claim all of those lands as his, and his claim was undisputed. But ages ago he and his kingdom were lost to war, and now all of that land to the north belongs to Mornclaur, the land of the Dark Lord.

So, please, take that into account before you post your Role Playing profile on the boards. It will reflect of your knowledge, and of your respect."

[Dáin Ironfoot I]

"Why Lord, I have no idea what you are talking about. I am no lord of Erebor, but I am a grand captain of Heren Istarion, and I am of the line of Durin the Deathless. My fore-fathers indeed were from Erebor, and it pains me now to see my brethren fall under the sway of the Dark Lord of Mornclaur. However, perhaps one day once the war has ended, we shall reclaim Erebor for our own, as I would much like to do so. I have the right to the throne of sorts, and I would rejoice in regaining it. However, this is merely a dream and has little chance of actually happening," replied Dain.

OOC: To tell the truth, I have not acted as Lord of Erebor in war rps, although it is in my profile. I am merely a captain in the wars, that is all. In other RPs, like Mists Unknown, I am Lord of Erebor, hell, I could be Lord of Mordor if I wanted :p ! But in the future, I will make sure I am not the Lord of Erebor, although I do lineate from there. I'll also change my profiles as well.

**EDIT** I updated my profile... I think there cannot be any discrepencies there. If there is I can ADJUST IT some more I GUESS! :mad: ;)

[¤-Elessar-¤]

"Excellent Dain. I fully approve of your method of dealing with verbal confrontation. You may now proceed as Anamatar asked."

[Arathin]

OOC: I have asked Anamatar already, and he said that the fact that I am married to Elessar does not intermesh with my testiment to Dain's RPing skills.

Dain walked quickly to the doors he had just entered from and called lowly, before returning to his place. When all eyes had settled again upon the door, a stately figure was to be seen. A simple, undecorated gown of soft black velvet was drapped over the figure. Her waist was clinched slightly with a cord of silver threads, and her long flowing brown hair hung over her shoulders. A dark emerald cloak of the finest linen flowed lightly behind her as she strode to stand before the council with her hood covering her face. When she came to stand beside Dain, she delicately lowered her deep hood, casting her eyes over the entire council to ascertain that she had their full attention. In truth, few could look away, as Arathin nodded to her friends amoung the council and cast her dear husband a slight, but warm smile.
"I am here to bear witness to Dain Ironfoot's abilities within the realm of RPing. I have fought with him in the current war while he, Heren Istarion, and the Rangers were possitioned within the lands of Mithlond, the province that I govern. I have also RPed with Dain in Mists Unknown. In both the war and this RP, Dain has proved his prowlness in battle and his almost natural talent for such things as quality posting over quantity. He has a nack for coming up with inventive and interesting plot twists, which keep within the story very well, but also continue to keep the RP from dying. He has knowledge about the world Tolkien created, and, although this is not taken to an extreme, he does use his knowledge to help keep things in line. He is quick to learn how best to keep things within each RP's standards while also brushing with the boundries for a fun RP that keeps the members coming back. I have found Dain very observant. He isn't likely to miss a post that was made, like so many on TTF are unfortunate enough to do. Most importantly, Dain truely tries to understand and work with his fellow RPer's. He is very good at forming a companionship with his fellow RPer's in his effort to add all he can to all the RP's he is participating in to bring out the full potential strength of each character and RP."

[Anamatar IV]

Anamatar and Ingolemo spoke quietly together. Their whispers echoed in the hall. Finally, Anamatar spoke.

"On behalf of the Leadership of Heren Istarion, compiled of two: Ingolemo and Anamatar, I am impressed with Dain's ability as a role player. I feel he is a very good role player and has will only get better. From my experience there are some flaws in his role playing but they are not things that we can teach him in training. They are simple things that you can only learn from experience. So our vote is to pass Dain Ironfoot." Anamatar pounded his malet on the arm of his chair.

[Arathin]

Arathin smiled broadly, and congradulated Dain. Then bowing to the council before her. "If I am no longer needed..." She flicked her gaze about the room and nodding, turned to leave, closing the double doors behind her.

[Nenya Evenstar]

Nenya stood up from her seat on the dais and glided down the marble steps at the front. Her simple white gown hung in delicate folds about her form and a white swan lay gracefully upon her forehead. With a warm smile she congratulated Dain on his acceptance. "My good dwarf," she said raising her hand as though giving a blessing, "may your wonderful skills enhance this forum as a whole and may you never cease to do your best in everything that you do. The light shine upon you." A small light seemed to eminate from Nenya's upraised hand for a moment and as she lowered her hand the light faded. Then, with one last smile, Nenya left the room.

[Anamatar IV]

Anamatar stood up and ran to the door and called Nenya back, as there was still one more person to be tested (;)). Anamatar got back to his place at the head of the room and saw Ingolemo in his seat.

"Why do I have to stand again?" Anamatar complained with a whiny look on his face.

"Once I die and you become leader of Heren Istarion YOU may sit here. Now hush up!" Ingolemo spoke harshly.

"Hmmmmm," Anamatar mumbled as he fingered his large malet that he had forgotten to leave next to his chair.

"Give me that!" Ingolemo cried and grabbed the malet from Anamatar. "Scatha, come forth and be tested!"

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;)

[Scatha]

Name: Farathorn

Age: 236 years

Race: Peredhil (1/2 elven, 1/2 Numenorean )

Place of birth: Mithlond (Grey Havens)

Occupation: Assassin / Archer , frequently travels with the Dunedain.

Abilities:
 An excellent stealthy warrior, with a sharp tactical mind
 Blacksmith, taught by both numenorean and dwarven teachers.
 Healing (herbal)

Magic: Minor healing powers, enough to aid those that travel with him, or himself.

Appearance: Farathorn stands around 6 feet tall, with a muscular build, combining his elven and Numenorean heritage. His tanned skin seems to be darker then it really is, due to his bright greenish eyes. From within these eyes emanates a light sparkle, which reflects the intelligence that lays beyond them. His long brown hair and slightly pointed ears immediately remind you of his elven heritage.

He usually wears the following attire: A pair of black breeches, tucked into a pair of kneehigh, scuffed leather boots. A green cotton shirt, partially covered by a brown, studded leather surcoat. A black leather swordbelt, with two sheaths hanging from it, and a darkgreen cloak complete his attire.

Animal: A horse, named Anthatal (nightsedge) from Rohan, which he found in the wilderness.

Items:
 A Mithril chainmail, consisting of very fine interlocking rings, sewn between the two leather layers of his surcoat.
 A pair of brown leather gloves, lined with the same mithril chain.

Weapons: Two exquisitely crafted short swords, with a mithril blade, that faintly glows in a greenish hue, when in the presence of evil creatures. These were given to him by his mother, as he ventured out to find more of his kinsman.

A longbow, purchased on his way through Mirkwood, along with a large quiver of arrows.

Several knives, which are safely tucked away from plain view.

Family: His father was an elf from the Mithlond region. His mother a fullblooded Numerorean from the line of Arathorn I, which he was named after. Due to his envolvement with the Dunedain, thus traveling a lot, Farathorn has remained single so far.

History: Farathorn grew up in Mithlond, raised by his mother, after his Father never returned from a trip at sea. At the age of 58, they received word of a Numenorean refuge in the Iron Hills and moved there shortly afterwards. They resided there for a large number of years, while he learned the craft of blacksmith. Due to the nearby dwarven community, Farathorn was able to get lessons from a dwarven smith, as well as from his Numenorean kinsman. When he near perfected his craft, he got restless to find more Numenoreans and elves, so at the age of 104 he once again ventured away. This time the goal was to get to Rivendell. After a short stay in Mirkwood, where he purchased his bow, he reached Rivendell and remained there for a great duration, gradually gathering more knowledge of his mixed ancestry. It was there, that he met the Dunedain, who turned out to be the kinsman he sought after, and started to travel with them on their journeys.

Personality: Farathorn is a mild mannered person, polite and not easily angered. His loyalty is something that must be earned, but if he counts you to his friends, that same loyalty will not fade easily.
His intellect and sharp tactical mind, makes him diplomatic in his answers to strangers, but wary of them at the same time. After all, an assassin must be careful whom he trusts.

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Farathorn walked into the Hall and bowed towards the council, with grace and agility. Standing before the council, the man seemed humble yet confidant in a way. He cleared his throat slightly and began to speak:

"I, Farathorn, bow before this council, wishing to present my case to those that strive to improve the quality of roleplaying on these here forums. For this ideal, I salute thee."

He paused briefly to look around for a sign of approval, then continued:

"I stand before you today, to pass the training given to the members of this guild, as I could be of more use to the guild as a teacher, then to be stuck into a training which would not improve the skill, but only the finer points of it. These I can easily improve by aiding your cause, while brushing up on the required reading for the guild."

The half-elf took a small step forwards, while taking his swords out of their sheaths and placing them on the ground in front of himself, then knelt behind them.

"I hereby request to pass the training, to help this council in the improvement of roleplaying. My swords are at your disposal, if this council will have me."

Farathorn looked around at the faces of the councilmembers, his face sincere and his eyes filled with determination.

[Anamatar IV]

Hail and well met, Farathorn. Your profile is very good, elaborate, and unique. I just have a few problems with it. Note that these will not be held against you in any way.

You say you were taught by the Dwarves. Dwarves typically are loath to give their teachings to other races.

You seem to be using a lot of Mithril. In the wars currenlty there is a limited supply of Mithril. You can keep the hauberk I think (I have one) but Mithril blades aren't too popular.

That's about it for now. Ingolemo won't make his choice for a little bit....

[Scatha]

Farathorn bowed towards Ingolemo.
"Thy request is reasonable, consider the swords to be made of Numerorean steel. I will alter this in my profile, before it is posted officially."

He paused and elaborated the second point made.
"The one thing this dwarf has taught me, was to make a chainmail, consisting of very fine rings, to keep the mail supple and dense, to provide the best protection possible from chainmail. Everything else I learned was of Numenorian blacksmiths. I would be prepared to change this in my biography, or scratch it if needed."

Yet during this entire discussion, the half-elf has not moved from his knealing position, still awaiting the order to rise up again.

[Nenya Evenstar]

Nenya had taken her seat once more upon the dais and sat in silence while Farathorn spoke, listening with her heart and her mind. When he was finished speaking, Nenya said in a clear voice, "Farathorn, welcome! Could you bring a witness before us? One who will witness on your behalf and who is not of this council?"

[legolasismine]

Name:
Adlyn addie for short

Creature:
Elf

Birthplace:
Mirkwood

Gender:
Female

Home:
Legolas's treehouse

Age:
1,900

History:
Had a normal mother but never knew my father neither his race,grew up in mirkwood nothing special soon fell in deep love with Legolas,but he soon left though promising to return but still she waited years passed she soon gave up hope and left to pursue an adventure of her own but still carries the only reminder she has left of him,but has no idea what her new life has instored for her.

Family:
Mother Margo,rest of family is unknown

Apperance:
Long dark hair,brown eyes,5'9,curvy,a regular beauty

Clothing:
Long gray skirt and white canopy

Weapons:
Blood biter my prized sword a gift from someone special,my bow and arrows

Magic:
Incredible hearing,trained in stealth,wondeful eyesight

Personality:
Kind and good hearted and brave but very fierce we she needs to be

Animals:
Camanche a beautiful brown horse and my companion on my trip

Items:
One blade,one sword,and my bow and arrows

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Adlyn walked into the hall only armed with her special sword underneath her skirt for safety,bowed before the council.

"I,Adlyn ask for your premission too porceed in role playing with your approval on these here forms I am new and young and can understand your disapproval but I ask kindly for you too approve me of this abilty."

[Scatha]

Originally posted by Nenya Evenstar
Nenya had taken her seat once more upon the dais and sat in silence while Farathorn spoke, listening with her heart and her mind. When he was finished speaking, Nenya said in a clear voice, "Farathorn, welcome! Could you bring a witness before us? One who will witness on your behalf and who is not of this council?"


Farathorn nodded and pointed at the doors, which led outside. "Bringing a witness shall not be very easy for me, since but a few have played with me so far, on these here forums. One of the most distinguished members in another forum might be able to tell you more however."

With that he marched towards the doors and slowly opened them.

[Mablung]

Through the doors came an Elf. Hailing from the halls of the Mithril Knights, Maegelen was wearing a special wardrobe for the occasion wanting to make as good an impression as he could for the sake of his friend. He wore a white tunic and black pants with a soft leather belt across his mid section. On his back was a black cloak clasped at his neck with a brooch cast in the image of the Knights. He bowed before the council then gave Farathorn a reassuring look before beginning. "Greetings all, I am Maegelen of the Mithril Knights. With the death of its previous proprieter ownership of our Golden Axe Inn has passed to me. That is where I met our mutual friend Farathorn. As he said he has not participated in many RPs, but he has visited my Inn. First of all let me assure you that nothing but a strict RP atmosphere is maintained within its walls. That is the way the founder created it to be, and it is how I have done my best to maintain it as such. But onto Farathorn himself. He is among the finest patrons to ever grace my presence in my humble opinion. His posting is always clear and concise with no form of mistakes that are visible. His character is well developed, and he knows how to act said character properly. Above all I find him intelligent which is an important characteristic to have. All in all I cannot think of anyone else at the moment I would love to see graduate from the normal ranks." Maegelen then stood silent waiting for the council to render its decision hoping that he had helped.

[Nenya Evenstar]

Nenya glanced at the other Grand Council members with a quick turn of her head. The were each sitting primly in their seats with looks of concentration on their faces, and Nenya couldn't help but grin for a moment to herself as the quick thought passed through her head at how formal they all looked. It was almost as if they were images to be carven into stone and never touched by Time.

"Farathorn," Nenya said after a moment of silent thinking, "you have my vote to move forward and pass through the training of Heren Istarion. I vote that you should be granted the level of a Teacher. From what I have seen of you and from your poise in RP's, I think that our teaching staff would greatly benefit from your presence. I hope that the others are as impressed about you as I am." Nenya's smile was encouraging as she turned her head to discern what she could from the her fellow Grand Council members.

[Scatha]

Farathorn bowed towards Nenya and spoke to her in a calm voice, which contained a restrained tone of gratitude.

"I thank you kindly, Mylady. Thy words honor me."

With a swift glance to the proprietor of the Golden Axe Inn, the half elf took a stance behind his blades again, then turned his face to the members of the council.

(*and twiddles his fingers as he waits* ;) )

[Anamatar IV]

Because of the urgency of training and the need of trainers, with the powers bestowed in me as Leader of Heren Istarion, The Grand Council, and the Trainers, Scatha, Farathorn of the blood of Dunedain, speaker of the hugh tongues, I pass you from training into Training. You I assume will be training war strategy?

[Scatha]

Scatha bowed and looked at Ingolemo and Anamatar.
Slowly he came to a stand and nodded.

"I'd be honored to."