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Anonymous
Tarsorel
| Name | Anonymous |
|---|---|
| Status | Active |
| Occupation | Unclear, but it has something to do with credit and caravans. He is also the shield of his company |
| Age | Hard to tell. Young face with graying hair |
| Race | Man |
|---|---|
| Residence | Bree. Originally from Gondor |
| Kinship |
| Outward Appearance | Tall and broad shouldered, Tarsorel is powerfully built. His hair is dark passing into iron gray, which belies his relatively youthful face. Crows feet are present at the corner of the his gray-green eyes. His face is otherwise smooth save for a vicious scar over his forehead down through the front of his face. His neck is thick with muscle, as is his chest and arms. His stomach has a paunch, though there is prodigious strength underneath. He is narrow at the hip with powerful looking legs. Despite his obvious strength and vigor he appears old and it is hard to nail down his age His voice is mellow and slow. His mannerisms are similarly slow and deliberate, until it is time to take action. His expression is one of calm neutrality, neither betraying joy or sadness. |
|---|
Background
Tarsorel was raised on a village near Calembel. His father was a blacksmith and his mother kept the household. It was a happy childhood with little concern. Tarsorel learned his fathers trade from an early age. He also learned his letters and maths from his mother, who kept the books for the family business on top of her household duties. But most importantly, Tarsorel grew up with Alandra. Alandra, his first childhood friend. Alandra, his first chaste kiss under the willow tree. Alandra, his first love. His wife. The mother of his children.
Alandra. His children, Boe and Cylanda.
Tarsorel joined the army, leaving his young wife and twin children with his parents. He served Gondor faithfully for many years as a soldier under Argus Lorenth, a iLord from the Lamedon region.
He returned home after his service to Gondor and was happy for a time. Until the war found his small village. Until the Haradrim came. Until he could not defend that which he loved, and so, lost everything. His failure was now his constant companion. He shame his secret. And the scar on his face a constant reminder of what he had lost.
That was before, and now his wounds have turned to jagged and rough scars. Tarsorel today can be found in Bree. He keeps a small apartment and office near the West Gate, from where he conducts his business. A young boy named Dover, who appears no more than 12, works for Tarsorel as a courier and runabout. The man, who two years ago those who lived in Bree might remember as a layabout and drunk, appears to be doing well for himself these days. Yet he keeps company with an odd group, lead by the dark bard a Ryheric. That association alone keeps him separate from the social circles of thr Bree merchant class.
Yet Tarsorel does not seem to care. He spends his time divided between maintaining his martial training, attending to business dealings and trying to be a positive presence for his friends.
| Friends | Lavendara, Ryheric, Mildwynn, Cwenawynn, Emmawynn, Brynnen, Tatton, Sicarra, Brynleigh |
|---|---|
| Relatives | None |
| Rivals/Enemies | None |
| Loves | Family, friends and kinship |
|---|---|
| Hates | Enemies of the Free Peoples, and anything that threatens those he cares for. |
| Motivation | Honor. Dignity. Being a stalwart shield for his friends. |
| Quotes |
Anonymous's Adventures
| Old and new wounds | 3 years 3 months ago |
| End of a Chapter | 3 years 4 months ago |
| The Blades of the Southron | 3 years 5 months ago |
| Failures and consequences. | 3 years 6 months ago |
| The Day Isulril Died | 3 years 10 months ago |
