0
followers
follow

Leif and Twig

It is a Dunedain's duty to protect what is good against evil and darkness.

0 · 242 views · located in Middle-Earth

a character in “Blood of the Third Age”, as played by Skittle_Overlord

Description

Image
"My father is Falon, Dúnedain of the North. And I follow in his footsteps!... You haven't seen him around have you?"


Name: Leif

Age: 13

Race: Mostly water and a lot of hot air, must be race of man. little does she know that her mother was an Elf Maiden

Sub-branch of your race: wannabe Dúnedain of the North… in training

Starting Nation as determined by race: Eriador

Physical Descrip: Stormy blue intense eyes are big and round, set on a small heart shaped face. Her mess of brown hair is cut short like a boy's would be, only she messed it up a little bit and had to cut it shorter than is perhaps customary for boys in the race of man. Leif stands at four feet tall and isn't impressive looking in terms of a warrior, but the way she carries herself is confident and graceful, unlike a regular untrained child. Her skin is pale and soft, but not easily bruised, she's surprisingly sturdy.

Personality: Leif is a spunky little shit. She’s eager and has no shortness of wit, so saying things in a way a ‘kid’ wouldn’t understand won’t work. Leif is an odd mixture of maturity and immaturity. Seemingly boundless energy emanates from her to practice the trade she dreams of mastering.

Though many things stand in her way she seems quite convinced that she can push past anything that tries to stop her. Leif could probably coach a mule on how to be stubborn, and often gets her way due to her relentless persistence. Along with this strong will her mind is thankfully in quick order, and thinks of ways around any situation. This is perhaps thanks to her father, who would grill her with riddles and play tricks on her when they traveled together. In fact he gave her quite the hard time, all in good love though. Speaking of her father, Leif holds him in the highest of esteems and often acts to try and do him proud.

Though highly tactful, Leif can be a bit sassy if spoken down to. If you are courteous to her however, she is likely to be very courteous to you. She won’t take your shit yo
Image
Reason for fighting: It is a Dunedain's duty to protect what is good from evil and darkness. And she needs to find her father because she's actually pretty scared.

Brief backstory: Leif’s father is a Ranger of the North named Falon son of Urther, her mother a lovely woman who died when Leif was very young. What Falon tells her is not necessarily a lie, however he fails to tell her the whole truth, that her mother was an Elf and that one day, like all half-elves, Leif must choose who she will claim as her people.

Falon raised Leif himself, teaching her how to survive as he had learned. He soon came to regret this however, as she was growing up fully wishing to be a ranger. He had intended to somehow give her the normal life of a woman and realized in her eleventh year that he had erred. But what else was he to do? He settled upon leaving Leif with the wife of a comrade, while he reported for his duties. This did not sit well with Leif. She would always venture off and wait at the gates for her father or neglect her chores and practice archery and swordplay, tracking small animals and hunting them down.

About three months ago Leif’s father was called to bring a message south, where exactly Leif does not know, but he should have long since returned. He is missing during a time of great need, the North Kingdom is failing. Leif decided to set out to find him, stealing away in the middle of the night and calling herself a boy to those who ask. She returned a few months later to find the farm that her father left at burned down and the family within hanging from a tree. The only thing left alive was a goat, which Leif took with her, her quest to find her father now more urgent.

Equipment:

Twig
  • 24 inch blade
  • 30 inches overall
  • man-made and lightweight, but very well crafted and suitable for someone her size
Image

Short Bow and Quiver of Arrows
not a very fancy set, but sturdy and serves its purpose

Goat// Named Buck// has been known to headbutt people for no apparently reason
Image
bedding, is tied to buck's back

Satchel:
Food
Water canteen
Toothbrush
coin purse
other essentials

Leif’s Attire (regularly):
regular woodsman attire for boy (big for her so she has to fold the sleeves and pant legs up), dark green and brown in color
leather gauntlets
fingerless gloves
boots
forest green cloak (as you would see on a dunedain)
sword at hip
small dagger in boot
bow is usually tied to saddle but when in use slung on back along with quiver

So begins...

Leif and Twig's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Farineld Character Portrait: Deranan Character Portrait: Marick Character Portrait: Akash Character Portrait: Kyouki Mari Character Portrait: Ian karkov Character Portrait: Leif and Twig Character Portrait: Celebrian Character Portrait: Gorthak the Piercer

0.00 INK

(Let's get this shit revived, people :3 I tagged all of you so you would know my intention. We must get this ball rolling again!)
It is a beautiful, clear-skied day. The sun shines bright on a field of pure blue, illuminating the flowing green and gold fields of Eastemnet, much to the chagrin of Gorthak the Piercer, one of the leaders of Saruman's Fighting Uruk-hai. He looks over his shoulder at his legion, shielding his eyes from the annoyance that is the sun and growling at the competence of his troops. He prides himself on having one of the best-trained troops in Isengard's force, though the accuracy of that is disputed by some. Today, though, he simply needs to kill something. He hasn't seen battle in a long while, and executing incompetent Orc Snagas had gone from fun to grating. If he didn't get to feast on some man-flesh prior to getting to Helm's Deep, he just might go mad(er).

As luck would have it, heading in their direction was a large detachment of Rohirrim Forces, lead by an equally ill-tempered Rohan Captain named Mordren whose weary men had just had a run in with White Hand warg riders. They had defeated the riders with few casualties, but the experience of chasing down and killing riderless wargs was one that could make any man or horse tired and annoyed, and his men had the same general feeling. Currently he just wanted to run into some small band of Uruk-hai or Orc scouts to make short work with an raise the morale of his men.

Neither were close enough to spot each other just yet, but their meeting is inevitable, and wherever the Horse Lords and the White Hand meet, there's sure to be blood, black or red...

(Also...ignore the "Ian" character I tagged. He'd been rejected already. Not sure how he got on there.)