Tarsorel

Tarsorel

Name Tarsorel
Status
Active
Occupation
Soldier
Age
Hard to tell. Young face with graying hair
Race
Man
Residence
Bree-Land
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 just starting to form at the edges of his dark green eyes yet 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. He has a small but noticeable  paunch, a concession to age and recent inactivity.  He is narrow at the hip with powerful looking legs. Despite his obvious strength and vigor he appears somehow prematurely old.

 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 in a rural part of Gondor.  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 hoped to earn enough money soldiering to build a nice home.  To go to Gondor and set up a blacksmith shop. To give his family a better life than he had.  Such are the dreams of the young. Full of wonder and excitement, heedless of danger and strife. 
 

He returned home and was happy for a time. Until the war found his small village. Until the orcs came. Until he could not defend that which he loved, and so, lost everything.   His failure is now his constant companion.  He shame his secret. And the scar on his face a constant reminder of what he had lost. 

Friends
Lavendara, Ryheric, Mildwynn
Relatives
None
Rivals/Enemies
None
Loves
Family, kinship, faithfulness.
Hates
Orcs, fighting, himself
Motivation
Tarsorel is looking for purpose after his losses
Quotes

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Tarsorel's Adventures

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Tarsorel's Gallery