Fandom Hell on Middle Earth Character Sheets

[Leusis]

Appearance: (Pics only here, please for the love of all that is holy, no anime)

BASIC INFORMATION
Name: (No explanation needed)
Aliases: (Other names, titles, nicknames, and aliases.)
Age: (Biological age. How long have you been around?)
Gender: (I probably shouldn't have to explain this, but yeah, Male or Female, this is after all, not our world and it was made by an old British man almost a century ago.)
Race: (No I do not mean you can be a thousand year old elf with intimate knowledge of battle and tactics. If you can find a reason for somebody other than a Gondorian to fight this battle, go right ahead, but you will not make a character exceeding the limitations that have been set, you are a foot soldier, not a hero. That's regardless of your race or birthplace.)

PERSONAL
Sexuality: (Ships gotta sail, then sink each other.)
Home: (What area of Middle Earth does your character hail from, if possible go further than just Gondor)
High Concept: (Sum up your character in a sentence or two, don't go off on a tangent about a personality you'll end up not sticking to.)
Bio: (Try to at least give me a paragraph or two to work with. Those of you who know me, know I love me an overly long and detailed backstory. Only makes it better when that character dies a gruesome death after all your hard work.)

PHYSICAL
Appearance: (Written only; Otherwise delete and see above)
Weapons & Armor: (Anything that the character uses for protection, or attack during combat)
Items & Personal Belongings: (Any other items that the character has, or belong to them)
Skills & Abilities: (Include things like bartering, or the ability to pickpocket, maybe you're actually kind of decent at fighting or sneaking. Please add an explanation for every skill describing how far said skill goes.)
Weaknesses: (Weak sides of a character. Fears, inabilities, inexperience, emotional issues, mental issues, etc. Only ones that could be said to negatively affect the character. I don't want to see anything like "Ruthless" on here, that's not a weakness, especially not where you're gonna be living)

FLUFF (Optional)
Hobbies: (What does your character do when not paralyzed with fear at the sight of a charging troll?)
Quote\s: (Notable things that the character has said, that may show off their personality or speech type)
Theme: (Musical theme, for those of you who decide your character is cool enough to deserve one)
Other:

 

[Obi-Wan Kenobi]

BASIC INFORMATION
Name: Felaven (Fela (Cave) + benn (Husband), yes I used the cool generator thing for this, don't judge me.)
Aliases: Five-Finger Felaven, That Five Fingered Fella (if someone's feeling particularly brave), Steelfist
Age: 52
Gender: Male
Race: Gondorian

PERSONAL
Sexuality: Straight
Home: Pelargir, Gondor
High Concept: Grizzled veteran marine of Pelargir who's spent most of his life fighting and losing bits of his life to corsairs, and now orcs. He now couldn't give less of a fuck about anything and runs purely on petty spite, sheer hatred, and a surprising amount of alcohol, whenever that isn't running short.
Bio: Felaven was born to a family of middling merchants, but Felaven was never the money-making type. He was an aggressive, rowdy child, one who had a mind of his own, and a mind that led him to constant fights. Fights which he tended to win, on account of being bigger than most other children. As he grew up, he found himself growing further, though broader more than taller. He also found himself with quite a handsome set of features, one which eventually attracted his future wife, Lodril, and a few idle lays in the meantime. But before he'd even met Lodril, he had gone into the Pelargir soldiery, quickly proving himself canny, talented, and brave in his service. It was during his celebratory night on the town for being promoted that he first met Lodril. His memory tells him that it was a moment of perfect love at first sight, but actually it was a bit of a shambles. He was egged into asking her out by his close friend Nestor, she laughed and told him to try harder next time. He tried harder. It worked. They kept in contact and proper love quickly replaced the shaky, rotted wooden bridge of lust. Within a year they married. Felaven was 27.

Lodril bore him two sons, Iaew and Lhossendir. Both turned out healthy, happy, bright children, and his home life was generally happy, besides the usual few marital hiccups. And, well, you've read what he ends up like. This goes downhill. Hard. Corsair raids had begun to come in much thicker and faster in recent years, Pelargir's forces were being spread much thinner than they were able to properly maintain. And this is where things started to properly crack. More and more often, Felaven was returning home with injuries, with new horror stories to tell. Cynicism began to take root, putting strain on his home life. There were a lot of things going wrong, tactical mistakes costing the lives of his friends, the commander killed by a stray arrow, so on and so forth. Over the years, this constant grind began to wear away at Felaven, and he knew it, but he refused to quit. It was his duty to Pelargir and Gondor and the White Tree to bend all his efforts to defend them. Another strain on his relationship with his family. His greatest rock was Nestor, who had shown himself to be an excellent leader and was promoted to a position of importance within the Pelargir Marines. Felaven was 33

On one of the regular sorties against an incoming corsair fleet, Felaven's ship was sunk, and he fell from a mast crossbeam onto the deck of the Umbar ship who had rammed him. Through some stroke of fortune, his fall had been unnoticed in the whirl of combat and shouted orders, allowing him to get the drop on the ship's crew, cutting through a knot of pirates before being noticed. He had carved a bloody swathe across the deck, using the sounds of battle to mask himself, when he finally screwed up, losing his ear and much of his good looks. As he was about to be finished off, a fortuitous javelin speared through the corsair's neck, and boarding planks crashed down. Likely aware there was one of their own wreaking havoc aboard, one ship had take advantage and moved in to finish the kill. He was pulled back and his wounds stitched up. He found out later, as he was recovering in a ship hospital, that Nestor had died in the sinking of the ship and drowned with little fanfare. Felaven was 36.

A night raid, the first anyone knows of it is a squadron of fireships plunging into the harbour and setting clusters of moored ships aflame. They are followed by corsair ships, cutting through the still harbour water and sending out rowing boats packed with corsairs. The defenses rallied, but not fast enough to stop the raiders in their tracks. Homes were burned, and one of them was Felaven's. Families were slaughtered, and one of them was Felaven's. After the raiders had been eventually sent packing, Felaven rushed home to find his life essentially destroyed in one fell swoop. Thereafter, Felaven swore grim vows to repay this a thousandfold on the foes of Gondor. He dedicated himself entirely to the art of soldiery. Felaven was 41.

Another night raid on Pelargir. At least a hundred more comrades slain. Felaven helped drive off the attack, he did his part. Word arrives from Osgiliath that the enemy marches on the East, and extra forces are desperately needed. More fighting, more servants of Sauron to kill. Good. Felaven volunteers right away to be sent to Osgiliath to defend it against Mordor. He is accepted, and marches with the Pelargir force sent to reinforce East Osgiliath. Felaven is 43.

Two years of fighting in Osgiliath, street by street the forces of Gondor are pushed back by endless mountains of orcs, trolls, and the terrifying harassment of a Nazgul. Felaven loses his hand to an orc. There's almost nothing left for him to sacrifice anymore. Felaven is 45.

The current day. Felaven fights because it's what he knows, and what he needs to do. Felaven is 52, and he shall grow no older.


This is getting a fix-up when I'm better rested. WIP

PHYSICAL
Appearance: Felaven has a careworn face that seems to have cared so much that it's looped back around to not giving a crap, which is something like Felaven himself. It is his face. It's a very craggy face, and one that seems to wear a perpetually stormy expression. For somebody his age, he's actually not got too many wrinkles. He must've had tight skin or something. His hair, by now, is snow white and has been for at least fifteen years. Stress. Said hair is a thick, scraggly mess that is cut practically short. It looks like it's been cut with a knife, and it has. His beard is full, but tangled and grimy. He has large ears, the right one of which is missing half of it, which matches up to a corresponding ugly, jagged scar dragging its way across his cheek down to a little on the other side of his face, at the chin. There's another scar, this one thin and curved, from his right temple down to just above his lips. His nose has clearly been broken dozens of times, and only bears shades of its previous proud, noble, aquiline shape. His sky-blue eyes now seem less dazzling and more haunted, giving Felaven the appearance of being some manner of spirit inhabiting a corpse. Which, interestingly enough, is a sentiment Felaven would wholeheartedly agree with if he heard it. In his youth, he was a handsome heartbreaker of a man, but nowadays he is ugly.

As for his build, Felaven is a truck. Six foot three with broad shoulders and a barrel chest, build still visibly muscular despite his advanced age, though certainly diminished compared to him thirty years ago. His arms bear a scar or two, and his chest and back bear multiple, all of which he has forgotten the cause of. Even his right thigh has a mass of scar tissue where he was once speared through the leg. Notably, his right hand, his good hand, is missing, cut off at the wrist. In its place is a broad, thick blade about a foot and a half long, which Felaven takes special care of. It's also what he uses to cut his hair and beard.
Weapons & Armor:

Spoiler: Weapons and Armour

All the armour depicted, the right shield, the spear/javelin (I'm gonna assume it's a javelin that could be used as a spear in a pinch), and the left sword. On the topic of the armour, however, Felaven has "requisitioned" (read: looted) a steel breastplate, backplate, vambraces, and greaves for his own use. He's often seen using either a shield and his stump-blade, or just going two blades if he's feeling particularly hotblooded. He's gotten good at shrugging the shield off his back and onto his arm, though it's not exactly quick, and if he's pressed for time he'll just draw a sword so he's not wasting that hand. He's also got a little dagger, but that's a utility thing more than anything.
Items & Personal Belongings: The silver locket, depicting the White Tree of Gondor, that his late wife gave him. Little else, and it is by far his most treasured possession.
Skills & Abilities: Has immense knowledge of hand to hand combat and combat tactics (and to a lesser extent javelin throwing and strategy, and to an even lesser but still adequate extent, archery), amounted over decades of near-constant skirmishing with the corsairs and long years in Osgiliath, as well as a comprehensive military education. Unfortunately, he's not nearly as young as he used to be, robbing much of his speed and endurance from him. Not to mention that he lost his good hand nearly a decade ago, and he's had to play catchup learning to fight with his left hand. So ultimately, he's fairly above average, but nothing truly special. On the plus side, he's not lost too much of his strength or mind, so his ability to give handy pointers is still excellent, as is his ability to direct a combat. An excellent sailor. He knows the basics of directing naval combat too, though he's learned more watching others do it than doing it himself, and it's unlikely to come up. An excellent instructor, he's really got the 'mean old bastard' act down. Mostly because it isn't an act, but there you have it.
Weaknesses: Has absolutely nothing to look forward to if he lives, so he no longer cares about self-preservation. He won't just give Sauron his life that easily, not yet, but if someone has to stay behind and get chewed up by a horde of orcs, Felaven's your guy, and he will fight anyone who even thinks of trying to go instead. Extremely short temper, not only making rash decisions but, depending on how wound up he is, starting fights with his comrades. Tends to get other people caught up in his own blind quest for vengeance, decisions motivated by 'what would do the maximum damage' rather than the more pragmatic 'what would be the least costly action'. Has trouble getting decent sleep, constantly tormented by not so nice visions of his past, rendering what few rests the defenders of Osgiliath would get rather less effective. May or may not occasionally hallucinate.

FLUFF
Hobbies: Sharpen his weapons, polish his armour, otherwise maintain kit. Weigh up the pros and cons of throwing himself in front of a charging troll. Not many cons.
Quote\s: "What kind of fool stance is that? Afeared children have fought with greater prowess than what you're showing me. Come on! Widen your stance! Don't let your sword drop so low! No! Not so high! Again! Again, I say, now do it before I knock your mouth free from your blank face!"
"Hold your ground! I don't care if they outnumber us two to one, you will hold your ground or I will run you through here and now! Get back in formation! Stand! Today, we shall bring our enemies low once more! You just need to HOLD YOUR BLOODY FORMATION YOU CRAVENS!"
"You're on patrol when you see two orcs at the end of the road, and they're shouting something at you in their foul tongue and waving their swords around. What do you do? ... Too late! They were distracting you while a third orc slipped behind you and put a knife in your back. Don't you ever underestimate the low cunning of an orc. Stronger men than you have done so, and they all ended up in orcish bellies."
Theme: A cool enough cat to have his own theme, but I suck at finding themes, so I guess he's gonna get let down once again.
Other: Felaven is, in practically every way possible, a monument to fallen greatness. And yeah, yeah, his bio's also a monument to bizarre yet edgy literature. I'm tired, and it gets the point across.