User:Chrisciscoioio/Baraphor
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This article is a Player character biography page The contents herein are entirely player made and in no way represent official Lotro history or occurrences which are accurate for all worlds. The characters and events listed are of an independent nature and applied for roleplaying, fictional, speculative, or opinions from a limited playerbase only. |
| Baraphor Briarman | |
|---|---|
 | |
| None | |
| World: | Landroval |
| Vocation: | Armourer |
| Class: | Captain |
| Race: | Man |
| Region: | Rohan |
| Age: | 20 |
| Height: | 6ft. 2in. |
| Sex: | Male |
| Skin: | Light |
| Hair: | Brown |
| Eye: | Blue |
Description
- My name is Baraphor Briarman, I was born on the 28th Gwirith in the year 2998 (28, Astron, 1398 S.R.) thus making me the age of 20 being this is the year 3018.
Personality Description:
- I am very much fond of Food, and quietly learned to cook, not as a profession but for my own knowledge.
- I am strong sprited, and have a commanding voice in times of need.
- I have little understanding of the histroy that has gone into the lands around me, but am an fast learning and will listen to any story that someone is willing to share.
- I am very adept at seeing into peoples hearts, and some say I have a gift of great importance.
- I am very friendly and I have yet to find someone who talks to me that I am not friends with.
- I have a unfriendly attitude to those that would do me harm and will quickly find themselves at the wrong end of my armerment.
Bio
Background:
My name is Baraphor Briarman and I hail from the land of Rohan, although I can not remember much of it now. For when I was just a young child my homestead was burned and pillage by a band of Wildmen from Dunland.
From what I was told, my father fought bravely to allow time for me and my mother to escape, unfortunately a throwing spear caught my mother in her side as we were riding away. She died soon after.
I remember very little from the journey to the capital of my country, except that as my mother was dying she whispered into my ear to never let go of the reins and everything would be ok. I never let go of the reins so much so that when I finally arrived at my uncle's house they had to pry my hands from them. I still do not understand how our horse made it all the way there, but it must have been some powerful force. I have no further memory other than we moved to Bree-Land in the Town of Bree before my fourth year of life.
I spent the next 14 years of my life doing what young men do, that being picking up my uncles Vocation of Armourer and learning to hunt and survive like all young men of my age. I became well trained with many weapons and was a skilled became a skilled Metalsmith, Prospector and Tailor.On the eve of my 18th year my uncle gave me my father's sword, which he had recovered from the ashes of the homestead. It was a fine Rohan blade, expertly crafted by a mighty craftsman indeed.
Not long after this my uncle and I were out hunting boars near the old graveyard to the north of Bree. After a few unsuccessful hours of hunting, something unexpected happened when suddenly out of the nearby bush an Enraged Splintertusk boar charged my uncle and seriously injured him with a quick tusk swipe to the upper leg and then through his bow. The next few moments seemed to take forever as I watched my uncle collapse and as my hand drew and set and then fired an arrow, which struck the boar under his ribs and pierced his heart.
As quick as I could I ran over to my uncle, but it was too late, he had passed on from this world. I was on my own now. After a brief funeral, I went to the butcher's shop to get the boar divided as payment part for the funeral and for my own sustenance. A strange thing happened when I arrived though, the butcher showed me an unusual mark, and after closer examination, we concluded that it was a fire poker mark. This meant that the Boar had been angered and sent through the bushes.
This lead me to only one conclusion, the vile brigands known as the Blackwolds, had set this boar lose to cause havoc. Unfortunately, there was nothing I could do, until a man came marching through the streets declaring that he was signing up militia to defend Archet, a neighboring town from the brigand attacks. I knew that if I was ever to exact my revenge that I needed to sign up and fight.
I quickly gather up what few pieces of equipment I could get a hold of, including my father's sword, and was off. The actually distance to Archet by road is fairly short, but we had to go the long way around because of brigand blockades. There were nine of us in this group as we made our way north of Bree and then east past the Old Greenway Fort, and then through the Eastern Bree-Fields and On into Northern Chetwood. The journey was fairly smooth, and by the time we reached Northern Chetwood, we had yet to encounter a single soul.
The Path through Chetwood was very narrow and had lots of tight bends, on our first night we camped just on the outskirts of the forest, full well knowing that our journey would get much harder in the coming days. By the third day in the forest you could barely see the sun light through the dense woods. The fourth night into the forest was one I will never forget, we were camped by a pool of water, which was illuminated by the full moon through a gap in the trees. it was very cold, and there was a harsh wind as we tried to get some sleep, while it did come eventually, it was restless.
Sometime before dawn I felt a prick at my neck, upon awaking I found that it was the blade of a brigand scout, I looked around and the same fate or worse was that of all my companions. They seized my sword and proceeded to break it against a rock and dump the pieces into the pool nearby.
I was taken to a holding area in what appeared to be a homestead were I was thrown into a large cell. I spent the first night there, nibbling on the small ration of bread and water they allowed me to have and trying to make a crude club from a nail and board. On the second night I heard a rustling on the other side of the wall, and then suddenly a man stuck his head over the wooden wall and placed his finger to his lips to silence me. After he had made it over the wall he proceeded to tell me what he was here to do and he could use my help in this task, His name was Admir. Not long after this we heard to brigands coming this way discussion how they were going to do me in, Admir stood of to the side out of sight as they opened the door and then he struck and I followed right behind him.
Unknown Facts:
My personal Comments about my character, these are things that you will not find out from a chance encounter and therefore can not be methioned in my profile for roleplaying use.
- I do not know my real surname, and when my uncle died I created one for the purpose of joining up in the milta and is has proved useful.
Other Notes:
((There will always be more added to this, as I progress through the game, but I figure this is a great stopping point, because it is were the game picks up. You will also notice that there are references to the game, this is because I am trying to tie my story to the game, there are some game references that are not done yet, this is because they are not yet completed on this site, but as new things are added I will try and keep it updated. Concerning my last name, being as I lived in Bree most of my natural life I picked up a fake surname for the purpose of blending in and that I do not remember my oringal surname.))
Friends and Enemies
Friends:
- Elfs
- Dwarfs
- Men
- Hobbits
- Food
Enemies:
- Boars
- Blackwolds
- Any Evil Force
- Goblins
- Orcs
- Trolls
- Wildmen of Dunland
Gossip
((Please use this section to post IC reactions and reflections concerning this character.))
- ...
Other Information
Notes:
Please inform me of any problem you find in the disscussion page so I can update all copies.
-Baraphor 05:37, 26 April 2007 (PDT)