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Vardun
Vardun, the Warrior of Dunland.
| Name | Vardun |
|---|---|
| Occupation | Blade for hire. |
| Age | Estimated to be in the midst of his life. |
| Race | Man |
|---|---|
| Residence | Travelling. |
| Kinship | None. |
| Outward Appearance | Alas, even if he was shorter in height than the average Men of Arda, he was not any less intimidating. His hostile gaze, always watching (whom ever he'd meet) carefully.All across his chest, arms and legs, scars dominated as a delicate but although frightening decoration. Even over his right eye, did he wear the markings of combat, in form of a long - though light - scar.His clothing were however, nothing fancy.. Pratical and with no real decorations other than the few leather- and fur-patches, keeping it all together. Alas something was indeed strange, for unlike his fellow Kin he carried no trinkets nor did he possess any trophies. Only did he carry along with him a long Great-Sword, old and yet still sharp. Serving as a deadly companion wherever he fared.Yet it was not all he brought along with him, for around his neck a strange leather-pouch hung. Many, and perhaps you, have before wondered what it might contain... Alas I dare to disappoint you, for this I cannot say. |
|---|
Background
Ive told many a tale in my day, and many a word have I written down about Heroes and Villains. Yet the one tale, that I am about to tell you, you may find quite different. And perhaps even to your liking. So gather around, gather around Children. To listen and to learn of a tale not of Bravery and Heroism, but of blood and Savages:
I cling sometimes to the thought, and I think you do aswell, that the life in Arda was that of a beautifull one. Filled with tales of the lushest flowers, and Children playing their endless game of youth in the grass.
Yet both you aswell as I, know that it is only the shallow surface...
For in the last and indeed the most bloody days of the Third Age, a most strange figure began to appear upon the roads of Eriador. He was known by one, and one name only, the primitive name of Vardun. He carried neither titles and nor was he heard of in any of the glorious Tales that served as entertainment for the drunken Patrons, forever lurking in the busy Inn's of Arda.
No, for he (Vardun) was a Savage. Grown up among the enemies of Rohan, and yes you must have guessed by now that Vardun was indeed a Dunlending. Hailing from the misty Hill-land not far away from the steppe's of the Riddermark, raised only to hate and despise the Rohirrim for all the pain and suffering that they had brought upon the secretive and dark Clans of his dear and ancient home.
Alas I dare not, or no.. I will not tell you now, what made him come here, to the lands of Eriador, so far away from his home. For that is yet another tale, one among many, that only Vardun himself can reveal...
Author's note: Hello, I hope that this Laurelin-Archives page was to your sincere liking. And that you would like to hear, and of course, read more about my Wild and Savage Dunlending. Should you find the need or desire to seek out my Character, When he is not present at the local RP Hub's. Feel free to send me a Message, either on the Website here, or In-game. - All rights to the music-art used for this Profile, goes to Brunuhville.
| Friends | |
|---|---|
| Relatives | Unknown at current time. |
| Rivals/Enemies |
| Loves | One could indeed say that Vardun did not love, alas it would be far from the real truth. Like many others of his Kin, he adored the thrilling rush of combat, the beautifull sound of the Flute. Aswell as the honey-like taste of a well-poured pint. |
|---|---|
| Hates | Hatred.. A strong word, yet it was the only word that could describe the furious anger that Vardun had towards the Rohirrim. Yet they were not the only beings that had grown to be subject of his savage rage... |
| Motivation | Even if Vardun never spoke nor hinted towards his ambitions of his long and dangerous Journey, one thing still remained clear. Something drove the Savage forth, yet I dare not suggest to carry the Wisdom of knowing what. |
| Quotes |
