Name Cerchennil
Ranger of the North
The Wilderness
Outward Appearance

His short black hair is swept back, usually hidden beneath his hood. His pale grey eyes once shone bright with pride, vigor, and reslilence, but now have darkened with grief. Being beardless, like the rest of his kin, adds to his youthful appearance. 

His garb shows sign of being beaten down by weather. dirt, mud, grass stains and other elements of nature spot his torso and legs. Usually, hidden by his cloak and garb, a seven-pointed brooch sometimes glints under light.

Like his father and forefathers before him, he carrys dual blades. If not in combat, they are be covered by a leather sheath. In combat, the swords dance throughout the air, slashing anything that dares enter their path. A sheath is strapped to his boot, holding a dagger, either for being useful in a fight or a utilitarian purpose.

He stands at 6'2" feet tall, his build thin and strong. He is able to charge into combat, providing a distraction for his kin to flank the enemy, or archers to let fly their arrows.    

The image above was made by https://www.artstation.com/medjugore/profile and edited by my friend to be able to be a banner upon LA. Man dem is an amazing artist, go check him out!


Only a trusted few know.

For the few he considers trusted, they would receive a tale like this one:

I was born in a cabin near Nen Harn. My childhood was, most likely, like any other of our kinsmens'. I trained, helped, and so on. My father had taught me, or began teaching me, at the age of six. He wanted me to be prepared for my future duties. My father was a scholar, warrior, where my mother was a healer, scout, and so on. That was their main focuses, and so, some of them were mine. I am not the scholar my father is, nor the healer that my mother is, but I am certainly a warrior and a scout. My parents were a friend of animals, least those that lived near them. At the age of twelve I had bonded with a raven, Limroval, I named him. I have no long backstory, not an interesting childhood, or anything that an foreign, intriguing adventurer has. However, I have seen grief, not much, nay, but enough. A orc party was in the Far Chetwood, getting dangerously close to our cabin. We all took up our bows and notched our arrows, aiming at the orcs, we let them fly, and several of them fell limp to the ground. Yet, there was more, two orcs had went out of view, we assumed there weren't any left living. We were wrong. The two orcs had sneaked up on us and engaged us in close-combat, we prevailed, but at the end of the day, our cabin was heavily damaged, beyond repair, my mother was wounded, a gash across her chest, and us tired. We left, heading towards the south, we camped in a ruin, and for a while, made it our home. This is what led to me being here, south of Nen Harn. My duties. My hatred for orcs. My oath. That, is my story.

His kin, Limroval, his raven companion, his blades, Laegang and Laegrist
Father: Bregreinor Mother: Hathronath
Servants of the Enemy
Nature, swordsmanship, Eriador, his kin, his family, ravens, birds, animals, Adhroch, his flock
Servants of the Enemy, particularly Orcs, assumptions, tomb-robbers, oath-breakers, usurpers, dishonorable folk, lies
To obey his Chieftain and defend Eriador
"Protecting Eriador and obeying my Chieftain is my purpose, nothing else."

Cerchennil's Adventures

Ignorant about Progress 2 years 7 months ago
Of Kings and Kingdoms 2 years 8 months ago
Exchange at the Evendim Gate 2 years 8 months ago
Ambush at the Evendim Gate 2 years 8 months ago
Camping in the Lone-lands 2 years 9 months ago
Cerchennil's Adventures

Cerchennil's Gallery

Cerchennil's Gallery