Lathranien yelpait alors qu'on l'écoulait du sol. S'agiter dans la prise de la beaucoup plus grande étant qu'elle voix un autre cri de protestation. Levant ses poings pour frapper le délinquant qui a osé la saisir, seulement pour geler comme elle voyait l'armure trop familière de la dernière personne qu'elle attendait. Se moquant du froid et de sa propre terreur personnelle, elle s'accroche à son meilleur espoir de sécurité. Jusqu'à ce que les combats soient terminés et que sa colère se tourne vers le plus jeune elfe. Derrière eux, elle entendait les hurlements de l'orc, mais ils étaient remplis de douleur. Avant eux, c'était le camp. La chanson du métal et du folk effrayé. Parlant assez fort pour que l'elfe entende, Lathranien supplia d'être déçu. Attention à utiliser couramment. Il n'était pas nécessaire d'annoncer son héritage de ne pas le savoir déjà. "J'ai besoin de mon arc! Mon sac!" Et elle l'a fait. L'arc était au moins sa ligne de vie et il l'avait été pendant plusieurs années. "Pousse-moi!" Les Orcs ont couru pour eux, le butin tombant de leurs mains aa ils ont vu les cibles eaay. Il n'y avait pas plus de trois, encore Lathranien a donné une thrash désespérée pour se libérer et boulonner de tous les combats.
Ailleurs, les nains combattirent à côté du Haradim, tenant une ligne de défense contre les agresseurs. Les orques s'emparèrent de poignées de marchandises et de pillages qui retournèrent dans la forêt, car d'autres descendaient encore sur la caravane. Un cycle sans fin de bataille sanglante. Les femmes et les enfants se sont enfuis et ont réussi à se cacher dans la forêt, ou ont été arrachés par les mains griffées des orques. Giles Wigby est toujours resté dans sa caravane à pousser la porte près de l'intérieur. Réussir grâce dans une bonne affaire à son gros volume. Darcyn s'en est pris aux orcs qui ralliaient ses hommes plus aguerris et les forçaient à revenir, pas à pas. Une orque a repéré Ireth qui s'est enflammée. Avec une main non armée, l'autre retient les femmes Haradim. Aidée par un camarade de sa propre famille.
Name: Eodras
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Race: Gondorian
Appearance: Eodras stands just under six feet tale. He has broad shoulders and a well built frame in general. Being outside for most of his life as made him have a slight tan. His hair is scruffy on top and usually quite short on the side, with a slight stubble covering most of his face. Eodras has olive eyes and a nose which is slightly too big for his face and is bent from breaking it as a child. Apart from the big broken nose, his youth is clear to see with his warm smile, which seems to puts people to ease.
Equipment: Eodras dresses like a Ranger of Ithilien. His outfit is mainly composed of dark brown leather armour and then covered in an olive green hooded cloak. He is usually carrying his long hunting bow wherever he goes and arrows can be seen over his right shoulder, the quiver is hidden underneath the cloak. In the bottom of his quiver is a small pouch of Tharni and also some flints to start camp fires. Attached to the quiver is a small bed roll. A plain Gondorian steel longsword dangles from his left hip and then a plain Gondorian hatchet hangs from his right hip. Finally he has a skinning dagger on his lower back.
Personality: Eodras is a loud character, before he left Belfalas he was always making jokes and winding up people who took life too seriously. In the past few months he's become a bit more of a darker person though. He keeps his darker side to himself though and acts like nothing bothers him, until he snaps.
Story: He doesn't really have a goal, apart from making money, he's just wandering around. Eventually go back to Belfalas when he's ready. Eodras wants to be a better fighter not being a very skilled swordsman.
Biography: Eodras was raised in a small town in Belfalas. His Father, who was called Iolas and used to be a Ranger of Ithilien before he settled down with Eodras' Mother. After a few years they were married but unfortunately she died giving birth to Eodras.
Growing up, Iolas taught his son how to use a bow, a sword and often took him hunting. They lived a comfortable life, it was nothing spectacular but Eodras enjoyed his upbringing. His Father on the other hand couldn't get used to not being a ranger anymore and having no wife. He left Eodras alone a lot and spent much of his time in taverns drinking and gambling. After a while people started coming round to the house asking for money. Asking eventually turned into demanding. When Eodras was twenty three, his Father had been discovered down a back alley murdered.
After the funeral, it turned out that his Father had gambled their house away and Eodras was forced to leave the house. He grabbed his Fathers old gear and decided to head off only to come back when he was rich. He headed North towards Bree, on the way he ran into a merchant caravan.
Let me know if anything's wrong. :)