Celebarad of Lorien

Celebarad

Fight with the Brigand Captain

 

About the Toon: Oh, the guard, the guard, I love the guard. Dear, silly thing that he is. It’s a shame so much of the way I think of him has been influenced by the character he’s developed (or vice versa), because I do play him with the wild, careless abandon that frustrates and endears him to those around him. You know, hopefully.

I’d never rolled a tank before. It’s an odd mindset you get yourself into, the intense need to know whether you’d survive the encounter with the four mobs, four levels above you, and you bouncing in and out of Overpower, because you haven’t yet learned that yes, in fact, you can be killed. He’s only just 58 as of this writing, and ambling about Moria like he owns the place. It’s a curious reflection of the classes, the way I go through Moria; Bel systematically murdering each mob she came across on the way from A to B, Llythne gaming the system and stealthing her way through, and now Celebarad, pulling all the aggro he can get. Will say this, though, it’s nice not to die. Bel collapses in a heap if a mob so much as looks at her cross-eyed before she’s ready. Llythne’s response to conflict is to ask everybody the colour of a chameleon on a mirror, and then leave before they’ve grasped the non-sequitur (and the clash of lore that surrounds whether or not there’s chameleons in ME at all). To be able to plant one’s feet and just take the hits is wonderfully refreshing. It should also be noted that I was coming off bringing the burg to 65 when I first picked him up, so for the first little while, he was an extremely twitchy guard, compelled by the constant need to try and get behind the mob. So he ran in a lot of circles. If there’d been a dizziness debuff, he’d have gotten it.

About the Character: Well, this is harder than I thought it would be. I suppose as much of his character as seems to be self-evident is hard to put down in a concrete way. Let me see if I can make a story of it. He was raised in Lorien which, much like the Shire, is a place that’s been kept pure and isolated by some external power–in the Shire’s case, the Rangers, in Lorien’s case, sheer force of will on Galadriel’s part, bolstered by Nenya. His father was, as noted, a part of the war of the Elves against Sauron, and has since departed Middle Earth. Celebarad’s led a life of peace and safety, and however he’s filled the centuries of his life (which I’m reluctant to number, though I think I’ve thrown out the notion of “seven hundred years” in the Notes on MCAH), the only hints of darkness or conflict that have entered it have been in stories of such. So that’s been his reality, sitting on a flet somewhere, enjoying being cocooned in beauty and peace, and contemplating the exquisite perfection of some leaf he found, for a decade at a time, or whatever it is that elves do.

Ah, but he’s not in Lorien now, is he? He’s tagging along with Beldrieth on whatever errands she’s about. I wonder how that happened. I wonder if perhaps it will get explained in the story that will follow the one that wraps up our party’s time in Evendim.

So with a wee little bit of backstory in place, let’s see what else can be said about him, all the things that are obvious to me as the result of thinking about this entirely too much.

  • He’s awfully naive. Really, it’s dreadful. Naive in a way that Brassica isn’t, being that she’s got a fair bit of good hobbit sense to moderate the naivety. They’ve both inhabited a mental landscape that’s composed of big, grand stories about beauty and truth and good and evil, and great, tragic deeds. Brassica is rapidly adjusting her world view around the fact that most of the beauty is found in the distance between the reality and the stories. The reality’s a bit muddy, and sometimes her feet get wet, which nobody seems to mention. Celebarad still needs to bring the lens into focus, because he still thinks on the scale of the stories that will be told about the reality he’s blundering through.
  • I don’t think there’s an ounce of caution in him, which is probably the manifestation of his class in his character. He’ll learn eventually, I’m sure.
  • Celebarad is your very best friend, from the moment he decides that he likes you. And his criteria are not very stringent on that front. He’s amazed and fascinated and delighted by everybody. He hasn’t quite caught on to the notion that this isn’t sustainable, because no, seriously, he’ll get between you and a Balrog, even though you only met him five minutes ago. I don’t think he realizes that he’s only got the one life to throw on the line for people who are functionally total strangers. On the flipside, he’s populating his cache of “best friends ever” with more mortals than he’s ever encountered in his life, and he’s going to be pretty crushed when he remembers that they’re all going to die.
  • Relating to the above, he’s decided that Brassica saved his life. Although, really, Bel would have caught up with him when she did whether Brassica had been part of the picture or not, dusted him off, given him a proper dressing down, and then they’d have been on their merry way. But then where would I be,with all these character dynamics and narratives bouncing around in my head? The interior of your skull can only get so dented before you need to dump all this out, you know. Long and short of it is, Celebarad thinks about Brassica the same way he thinks about everybody he likes, only times about a billion.

Gosh, this got long! In my defense, when Brassica gets a bit more fleshed out, she’s going to get the same treatment.

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