PC

	Vogar Ironsmith (Bill)  Dwarven Warrior; Age: 180 Hair (what's left): Brown with medium length beard. Although, with his skull cleaved, little hair grows on the scarred right side. Height: 4' 6"; Weight: 223 lbs Shadow Weakness: Lure of Power. Distinctive Quality: Patient. Background: Lore of the Lost. Specialty: Folk Lore
Hope: By recovering the past, I can make things better in the present. Despair: I'm certain someone else solved my quest; found Thorin's blade. Languages:  Dalish (Bardings), Common, Dwarven.

Vogar is 192 years old, born in TA2772. Thus, only 27 years old when he fought beside Thorin at the Battle of Azanulbizar (between the Dwarves and the Orcs) in TA 2799. Vogar witnessed Thorin’s shield broken and thus him picking up the thick oak branch to fend off attacks. Vogar joined in the cry bestowing the warrior as “Thorin Oakenshield”. 

In TA2941, Vogar answered the call to battle once again with Dáin II Ironfoot of the nearby Iron Hills, as he marched to the Lonely Mountain along with 500 heavily armed Dwarves, mostly skilled veterans of the War of the Dwarves and Orcs. It was during the Battle of Five Armies, that Vogar was injured…before Thorin was killed. Thus, Vogar’s memories are of a still living Thorin, the Mountain King. So, when Vogar thinks ‘king’, he thinks of King Thorin of the Lonely Mts, not King Dain II of the Iron Hills with whom he marched. 

The healing remedies that the merchant Mirabar offered, connected synapses in his brain restoring some of his forgotten memories (Lore). Which put Vogar on his quest to find King Thorin’s long lost sword ‘Deathless’ in hopes of aiding the dwarven call to arms to face the growing Shadow threat. Vogar must backtrack Thorin’s journey with Bilbo to learn where the sword was lost (in the Trollshaw forest). He doesn’t know about hobbits (those memories have not reconnected). Thus, he didn’t know to track down Bilbo; but, maybe Zim might tell a tale or two…Or Vogar finds a member of the dwarves who accompanied Thorin on the journey. 

Meanwhile, per his injury, Vogar suffers short-term memory loss. INT DC12 to remember the day’s events. Otherwise, he’s forgotten the day. 

Vogar starts each morning pulling out his fine comb and mirror to brush his hair. Which may look comical to most considering he has so little left. The Orc blade cleaved his scalp from forehead to across his right eye (he did not lose his eyesight). After all the surgery to sew the skin back together, his hair just refuses to grow back on the rightside of his head. But don’t tell him that even if he looks at his face in the mirror. To him, he has a full head of hair and full beard. Yeah, that too refuses to grow on the rightside. 

[In TA 2941, Thorin (with his sword, axe, and oak-branch shield) began his quest with Bilbo. He wielded his sword, Deathless, against the trolls in the Trollshaw forest, but was forced to surrender, when the trolls threatened to kill Bilbo. When Gandalf saved them, Thorin searched for his blade but found an elven blade (Orcrist). It is unknown what happened to his original sword, Deathless, but it is presumed that he left it in the troll hoard, as it is not seen again after that.] 

On, 20 May, TA2964, Vogar found Thorin’s blade in the Trollshaws. He now is on a quest to deliver it to King Durin II in Erebor.

When Arwen took Vogar to lake Mirrormere, in the waters he saw a vision of the lost empire of Khazad Dum. At the time it just seemed to be a memory of Durin’s accomplishment. But when he entered the troll cave around that old Water-Tower, and saw the goblin graffiti along the ramp, he recognized Khazad Dum. Could the goblins be expanding those mines and tunnels? Vogar had long heard there is a door on the West side that has been lost and there is secret word to open it from when the Elves and Dwarfs were allied. Dare Vogar take a peek? Would Arwen or Elrond share the elven half of the door-key? Maybe Durin himself will offer the dwarves’ half.

	Lorig (Matt)  Dwarven Scholar; Age: 55 Hair: Brown with medium length beard Height: 4'; Weight: 150 lbs Shadow Weakness: Wandering Madness. Distinctive Quality: Hardy. Background: Lure of the road. Specialty: Herb Lore
Hope: We are all equal on the road. Despair: My travels are my excuse for getting away from home.

Lorig grew up helping his father as a blacksmith and learned some of the trade.  When his people came back to the Lonely Mountain he followed his family to take part in the battle of the 5 armies.  His eldest brother was wounded by an unknown goblin poison during the battle and has lain in a coma in the family hearth since.  When his brother fell ill, Lorig abandoned his smithy trade and started searching for a cure in the libraries of the Mountain.  When these fell short, he took to the road to find some way to help his brother.  Swearing an oath not to return until he could wake him from his slumber.  On his journeys he studied medicine, herb lore, and history in the libraries of Gondor.  He has been on the road for 10 years.  Lorig often travels to where he hears people are suffering from plagues or other illnesses.  He tries to help the good people of the world and hopes to make a difference before returning home to save his brother.  Lorig is fond of Hobbit leaf and rarely skips a meal.  He is very jovial and always happy to meet a new companion on the road.  He met up with the group after helping one of the members recover from some battle wounds.

	Ricfried the Silent (Brian) Woodsman Warden; Age: 25 Hair: Light Brown Eyes: Blue Skin: Brown-skinned with a little red in the cheeks thanks to a life in the open. Height: 5’11; Weight: 185 lbs Shadow Weakness: Lure of Power. Distinctive Quality: Willful. Specialty: Old Lore.
Hope: My dreams don’t dictate who I love.  TBD how this plays out. Despair: I believe my dreams are being fed by the Shadow; they are leading me to my doom. Languages:  Vale of Anduin Tongue – an archaic version of the Common Speech, closely related to Dalish.

- My village was destroyed by marauding Orcs when I was 16.

- Moved to my uncle’s village fell in love with a girl ( her name is kept private).

- She went missing (presumed captured or killed by Orcs).

- I swore vengeance and have killed hundreds of them in forest.

- The Wizard Radagast met during one of my hunts and befriended me.

- He introduced me to the Beornings.

- This ultimately led to me traveling with Otbert.

- Travelled to Bree with Otbert the Foresighted.

	Tony: Hobbit Treasure Hunter

Zim originally comes from the Shire area, having grown up on stories of Bilbo’s adventure.  A strange hobbit, he approached the stories with wonder and merriment.  Particularly strange for a Gamgee, he grew up feeling somewhat isolated from his family and community.  His family thought he wasn’t ‘right in the head’ when he started showing signs of the rare hobbit mental disorder known as ‘wanderlust.’  When he was younger, hearing the tales of Bilbo, he practiced skills to become a ‘burglar.’  Of course he didn’t intend any slight or ill-will towards his community, and he always returned what he had ‘burgled’, at least when he remembered to do so.  As long as he returns it, it’s really not wrong now, is it?  And ultimately, he was just practicing his skills for when he too could burgle a dragon’s lair. 

So it was that one day he decided to leave his community to search out his group of dwarves and his dragon’s lair.  Making his way into the human lands, he observed more than he wanted to see of violence and bullying.  He developed a particular ill will against big people bullying small people, and learned early on that a well placed arrow delivered a particularly avid message.  He also learned that his small stature and quick reflexes would allow him to blend in to his background and to surprise would-be assailants.  During his travels, while keeping his skills fresh, he happened to pick the pocket of a Rider of Rohan.  He was particularly surprised when the rider snatched him by the wrist, unfortunately while the rest of his hand was still in the man’s belt pouch.  Dangling from a couple feet off the ground, he was confused by the grin that spread across the man’s face.  ‘What is this we have here?  Not quite a youngling I can see by our eyes.  A halfling?  I’ve never seen one of your kind before.  By all rights I should have you thrown in the stockades.  What have you to say for yourself?’  Ever quick thinking, Zim apologized for ‘accidentally’ finding his hand in Axel’s belt pouch, and offered riddles and tales of his homeland to avoid the stockades.  The two became fast friends, and Zim began travelling with his new friend – the first of his recruits to raid a dragon’s lair.  … at least should he ever find one.

	Evermud "Mud" Mountainroot  Wood Elf Wanderer (Duane) Reluctant Adventurer, Chef, Cautious 6', 180lbs, 350yo

I used to be one of the Royal Chefs for the King’s family, although I probably was more of a professional dreamer.  I often dreamt of being a Royal Guard, defending the realm.  I would study and train with some of our best trackers, rangers, and chefs.   After the war, the stories of the deeds of my Great King Thranduil, during the Battle of Five Armies have inspired me to venture out and make a name for myself.  You see before, I was too worried to leave my position but looking back, what have I accomplished…nothing, nothing to leave behind.  So, one night, under the stars, I made a promise to myself that I shall not return home until a bard in every land sings of my deeds.

Since leaving Mirkwood, I have been on countless adventures.  Mainly contracts to tracking down lost friends or families, occasionally hunting down thieves, murderers, and beasts, and every now and then hunt for treasure. 

On one my many troll hunting contracts, as I was navigating a ledge when my foot suddenly busted through my worn-out boots and I slithered down the shallow cliffs into a den of wolves.  They all appeared to be eager to rip me apart.  Without hesitation, I started shouting and feverishly started firing arrows, until I had none left, then pulled out my sword and screamed.  Luckily for me, the few malnourish wolves that remained scurried away.  That is when I met the dwarven scholar Lorig.  He bandaged me up, we shared some stories, drank some ale, and became great friends.

Helping those in need, being a tracker and hunter is rewarding but I still feel empty.  To fulfill my promise, I needed to do something big, but what?  Coincidentally, a few nights later, I received a message from Lorig, asking me to meet him at The Prancing Pony.  I rushed over and made camp in a tree overlooking the Inn.   Watching, and noting every patron’s comings and goings for the last few nights.  It is not that I do not trust my friends, because I do trust them, sort of, it is that I do not trust anyone else.  As you know, anything that can go wrong, often does.

After seeing Lorig, I jumped down and entered the Inn beside him.

	Axel “The Red Bastard” Freator Rider of Rohan (Geoff);  Age: 24 Hair: Red – Eyes: Green Height: 6’3”; Weight: 235lbs Shadow Weakness: Lure of Power Distinctive Quality: Quick of Hearing Specialty: Trading
Hope: We are all equal on the road. Despair: Fear of when the shadow descends upon us. Horse: “Stedrick” – Well trained brown stallion.

-Son of common woman and (unbeknownst to him) low level noble

-Orphaned at young age

-Began squire duties as no one else would take him in

-Became highly proficient as a front-line cavalryman

-Loyal to Rohan military since taking him in – In the back of his head fears the ability to protect his homelands – Met group during previous travels- Often volunteers for escort missions outside of Rohan

-Met adventuring party during “X” adventure several years ago

-Considers this group a surrogate family/brothers after all they have been through together – Will protect with his life

-Came running with special leave of absence when “X” contacted him to get the “X” oath brothers together?

-Bold/Brash – highly confident – “The Red Bastard” because of his origin as well as his relentlessness

-Binge drinker

-Only his friends can call him "The red bastard" – If others do, they’re fighting words…

-Does not live in the area, traveling/staying the evening in the Prancing Pony.

-I caught Zim the hobbit with his hand in my pouch trying to steal (he says replacing from where it fell). I showed mercy by not removing his hand with my blade. He's stuck beside me ever since. Like a booger you just can't fling.

RETIRED PC

	Otbert the Foresighted (Bill) Beorning Wanderer ; Age: 25 (Tracker/Survivalist) Hair: Black Eyes: Blue Skin: Brown-skinned and VERY hairy. Height: 7’3”; Weight: 278 lbs Shadow Weakness: Wandering Madness. Distinctive Quality: Bold-already doomed so no sense being cautious. Specialty: Dark Secrets-recognize the influence of Shadow and certain it has sealed my fate.
Hope: Even when things seem hopeless, I know this is not the death I see. Despair: I know those that stand beside me are fated to die beside me.

 “I am Otbert The Foresighted. You may call me Otbert The Foresighted.”

Beorn, Chieftain of the Beornings, realized the Shadow seemed to follow the little-ones in the time of the ‘Hobbit’. Thus, he sent Otbert west to watch for signs of the Shadow.

Otbert dug into his backpack for another empty jar, “Thank you again my little ones for providing me feast and funds.” As the bees swarmed around him, Otbert dipped his fingers between the combs to scoop out the honey, directing the flow into the jar. “I know you have traveled far and wide to gather the nectar for your nest. And your sweet reward will allow me also to travel far and wide to keep your flower fields safe. But I cannot take credit for the absence of orc. The last great war of man elf and dwarf decimated their kind. But there is other evil that roams the lands.”

Otbert sat alone and far separated from the other patrons of The Prancing Pony Inn. Whether it was his bulk and smell that kept others away or the occasional honeybee that flew from his frothy mug back inside his vest, he sat alone. He had already pocketed the coins the innkeeper paid for the jars of honey, not bothering to count as he knew Barnabas Butterbur an honest man. Hilda delivered his bowl of stew as she was not afraid of the bees who flew to the flower behind her ear. A gift from Otbert, “Beauty always attracts the bees. And Bzz so enjoys your company.” Hilda blushed as she returned to the bar.

And the drunken brute at the bar also turned red as he watched Otbert’s exchange, “hitting” on his girl. Or so he thought. Ale strengthened his courage and prodded him into action as he staggered across the room to confront his rival for Hilda. Otbert ignored his approach, which only made the drunk madder as he punched his open palm into Otbert’s chest, “Keep your damn furry paws off my gal.”

Now the punch was harmless for Otbert; however, honey leaked out from his vest causing him to look down. Thankfully Bzz flew out of the vest unharmed. Otbert rose from his chair. The drunk almost falling backwards as his gaze was drawn higher and higher till Otbert stood his full 7’3” height. “My friend, how would you feel if someone smashed your house? Did you mean to smash Bzz’s honeycomb nest? I think it best if you sleep this one off.” With that, Otbert grabbed the man’s collar and carried him, kicking and screaming, outside where he dumped him into the watering trough. When he returned to his chair, Hilda already had another mug waiting, “Barnabas thanks you for not busting up the place. On the house. More food?”