My Application:

[Modest_Proposal]

My name is David. I have nearly seven years of ttrpg experience and four years of pbp. 

I’m familiar with Traveller, D&D 5e, Starfinder, a little bit of Pathfinder 2e, and The One Ring 2e. I have not played 1e, but I do have the pdf’s and from what I’ve been told, the transition is not difficult. I’ve run a five-year long live Starfinder game and two year-long pbp campaigns (both which have concluded), both with the Traveller system. I’m usually the GM of the games I'm in. I sifted through your forum and learned you recently experimented with 2e. It’s interesting to me that you reverted back.

My experience of Middle Earth extends from the Lord of the Rings book Trilogy, snippets of the Silmarillion, and the films (though I don't like to count the new Amazon show).

I'm interested only in The One Ring game, as I have no experience with Ironsworn and a GM’less game is out of my comfort zone for now.

Your group appeals to me for a few reasons: 1. Your group has a proven track record 2. The post rate of 2-3 times per week works well for me. 3. I enjoy playing campaigns where the player characters are not epic heroes. I like stories about ordinary people doing extraordinary things.

 

I wrote my backstory into a kind of opening story. If this is unacceptable, I can revise it:

 

Cecil Brandybuck (a hobbit of the Shire with a fondness for fishing, boat riding, and other dubious pastimes):

Cecil stood on the last stone of Brandywine Bridge. In his pack was a paper, fragile and yellowed with age, which had been passed down through the generations as a weapon suitable for dinner parties. Whenever there was a squabble with the Bolgers or Sackvilles, some meady Brandybuck would hoist it up as proof they were of a tougher stock.

They would unfold it on the table as one might a sacred scroll: an unclaimed “will and deed”, they’d say, to a plot of farmland on the far side of the Misty Mountains (how absurd!). Proof! Handed down from their grandfather’s grandfather.

Of course, nobody was foolish enough to pay it any mind, Brandybucks included. But Cecil often spoke with the Dwarves that passed Brandywine Bridge and he let his fishing raft drift farther each season across its river. He knew the old tales.

His mother Amaranth, who was technically the owner of the curiosity, seemed to think there was some truth to it. She would spend her idle hours guessing the details and inventing wild stories of adventure to young Cecil - of giant frogs and fish. Peaks as high as the clouds. And on the other side... somewhere far away - their ancestors still remained. Fishing and playing in the mud. Dirtier than the rest!

She read the will:

The deed was to distributed at the death of a Mr. Ivy Tuber (she reckoned a long ago ancestor of Mr. Gormadock Brandybuck).

—

When his mother passed away (or so they say. The Sackvilles claimed she drowned), the will fell to Cecil.

“This is yours now.", his aunt told him. "Amaranth was a bit cracked about it, but it was hers, so now it’s yours. There hasn’t been a Tuber this side of the Shire since… well, since before I was born, anyhow! Wonder why they changed it. I rather of like the name Tuber. Tuu-ber. Asphodel Tuber.”

“Don’t go sniffin’ about that. The only Hobbit ever set foot across the mountains is ol’ Bilbo and you see what it done to him.” replied a little one.

“It would explain a lot about you, I’d say!” She handed the deed to Cecil. “Now don’t listen to him. This is a part of our history. But let’s be glad it’s just that…”

—

*later, Cecil stands at the edge of the Shire*

Giant fish, he thought, looking at a distant mountain top. And at the end of it all...

He sifted through his bag one last time, lingering on his mother’s things. She had drawn maps but they had never been creased. One lead up the river and to the lip of the great mountains. He smelled the lazy daffodils, fastened his fishing pole, and was off.

End

---

---

(For context - the Brandybucks are said by Tolkien to have descended from the Stoors)

 

 

[Modest_Proposal]

I've come to realize the art I choose was AI generated. I will change that if I end up a candidate. 

[Vladim]

Sounds good, everything looks solid so far! I am fine with the backstory being written in that form, it gives me all the information I need. And yes, don't worry about the picture too much if it's hard to find the right one. Please give me a day or two and I'll try to send some writing prompts you could choose from-ideally ones that could also function as hooks. Or, if you prefer, you can come up with your own writing prompt.

[Modest_Proposal]

Good! Feel free to send me your own prompts. 

(I corrected some minor formatting mistakes in my background post)

 

[Vladim]

Ok, here's some ideas that could serve both as prompts (to write a short scene) and hooks or additional elements to your character's backstory. Ideally, some of these could be used to start making some connections in Wilderland and/or further justify "adventuring" in the region. Please feel free to mix and much, ignore, embellish or whatever suits your fancy. It's basically up to you; if you don't like any of the ideas, feel free to use your own.

• Cecil was given the location of the Easterly Inn, a pleasant hobbitish establishment recently built at the Western eaves of Mirkwood, near the Forest Gate (the entrance to the Elf-Path), run by a certain Dodinas (Dody) Brandybuck. But after many trials and tribulations, when he at last arrives at the lands of the Beornings, the tidings are grim: the inn has beed destroyed, and the hobbits slain by orcs. How does he react to the discovery? How does it change his outlook?
• After gathering information in Wilderland, Cecil learns of Mountain-Hall, or Firienseld in the tongue of the Anduin men-folk. This hidden village is likely the closest settlement to his ancestral home.  How does he earn the trust of the Woodmen who live in the eaves of Mirkwood to tell him where this hidden hall lies in the Misty Mountains?
• Cecil spends months in Rhosgobel seeking information about Mountain-Hall. His arrival has been at an inopportune moment, a time when orcs are attacking the settlements. How does Cecil distinguish himself in this time of turmoil to attract the attention of the Brown Wizard, Radagast?

[Modest_Proposal]

I decided not to use the first prompt. I think Cecil seeing dead hobbits is the kind of bombshell that would be more interesting during the campaign rather than before. 

And so I chose the second prompt:

 

----

[in the foothills of the Vales of the Anduin, after a journey across the Misty Mountains]

 

   Cecil leaned against his staff and turned to face his enemy. Bedrock ebbed in staggered clusters, rising in balance toward the mountains until it met a shear upward face. He turned back. In front of him now, beyond the foothills, spread an endless bed of grass with rivulets running crossways down a shallow gorge. The earth was wet here and in many places too soft to walk, but the sound of water delighted him and so he loosened his fishing pole and found a comfortable spread to rest. He lingered there, forgetting quickly of snarling wolves and men and matters of business. He was beside the Brandywine again and not too far from honey nut cakes and good company. He began to sing:

 

“Yip!, yip!, yip! To the Brandy I go!

Down the line and not too slow,

Toss up the fish and back below

Till bucket’s full and paddles row!”

 

   He unwrapped his feet and slid them into the river, letting the blood between his toes wash away. The last, lonely stretch of mountain had spent every bit of him. The same was true of his guide, but the men of the Anduin were like springs and easily returned to form. Just as soon as Rothgil had left him, the man was back on his way to the High Pass, cheering and singing as if he were leaving for a feast.

   Cecil leaned against a river boulder and fell into a heavy sleep. In his dreams, he heard his mother humming and it gave him comfort, but as he leaned to reach her, he dipped a foot into the river and was startled awake. Strangely, the hum persisted in a low, manly tone to the East and then stopped suddenly. There was a man standing on the raw edge of a cliff on the far side of the river, staring at him. Cecil scrambled to face him. He looked similar to Rothgil. Both had long brown beards and satchels with a braided loop. A small splitting ax hung on his belt and black hair draped over his shoulders, covering the strap of a quiver and his bow.

“What is your business here?” He said. 

“What business is that of yours?” Cecil answered.

“Are you alone?” 

“No.”  

The man looked toward the cliffs. “I think you are.”

“What matter is it to you?”

“Matter?” The man tipped down the short cliff and approached, padding the ground for solid earth. 

Cecil widened his stance and edged back. “I will have you know I have travelled a great distance! I am on official business! Very official!”

“No doubt. And how did you come to this valley?”

“A guide took me. Rothgil.”

“I have not heard this name.” The man now stood at the lip of the river, less than a stone’s throw from Cecil. A thin layer of mud caked his face and darkened toward his feet. He stood still.

Cecil continued. “I come seeking Mountain Hall. Wherever it may be.”

The man stiffened, his hand drifting to his bow. "How do you know that name?"

Cecil quickly shifted, “I should let you know - The song you were humming. Hmm hmm, hmmm. I’ve heard it - from Rothgil:

 

‘There upon the collared stone

I swing my axe and hew alone.

So Winter’s pass may not be late

To -'"

 

“To mountain’s pass and forest gate.” The man spoke over him. He stroked his beard and smiled, with mud cracking around his cheeks. He limbered up and thought carefully for a moment. “So - friend of the Woodman. You wish to see Firienseld?”  

Edited April 14, 2023 by Modest_Proposal (see edit history)

[Vladim]

Thanks! I'll mark you as complete!

[Modest_Proposal]

Great! I know the application process will be open a while, so I'll keep my eyes peeled.