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Hrovamo
Hrovamo
| Name | Hrovamo |
|---|---|
| Status | Active |
| Occupation | Guard/ Metalsmith |
| Age | Old |
| Race | Elf |
|---|---|
| Residence | Lindon |
| Kinship |
| Outward Appearance | Tall and powerfully built, even for an old Noldo, Hrovamo tends to walk as if he carries the weight of his long years on his shoulders. Almost always clad in some armour, even if it is incomplete, he always has a mail shirt and pauldrons unless in an Elven city. His armour is old, but well cared for. Fair of face, dark of hair, grey of eye, with a narrow band of amber colour around the iris, he mostly looks like what he is. There is rarely any hint of deception about him. |
|---|
Background
Born in Beleriand, of the people of Celegorm, Hrovamo was recognised for his strength at an early age, and trained accordingly. He spent much time as a guard or personal escort of leading Lords, and occassionally of the Prince himself. However, he made himself a traitor to his own when he refused to fight at Doriath, resulting in him spending quite some time alone. He eventually took up with those Noldor heading for the new Kingdom of Eregion, following more the Lady Galadriel than Celebrimbor, though he did have much respect for the latters skill. After the fall of Eregion he did not go to the newly established stronghold of Imladris, but risked the Hithaeglir to find, and offer his service to Galadriel again. He has remained in the Golden Wood since then, only recently travelling West, to possibly take ship soon.
| Friends | Most have been slain, or have sailed West. He knows of a few still in Lindon. |
|---|---|
| Relatives | None in Middle Earth |
| Rivals/Enemies | General enemies, no one specific. |
| Loves | Stars, forests and high hills. Birdsong, particularly at dawn and dusk. A mellow wine, and a few good companions, when he can find them. Tales of the old days. |
|---|---|
| Hates | Feeling so tired. |
| Motivation | He doesn't want to sail until he feels he has done all he can for his people. |
| Quotes | Just one more year... |
