Balin the Dwarf

[pumpkin]

BALIN, SON OF FUNDIN

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THE BASICS:

Name: Balin
Age: 178
Gender: Male
Race: Dwarf
Birthplace: Erebor, the Lonely Mountain

Current Location: A rather temporary home in the Blue Mountains, though it is likely he will soon be on the move again

Weapon(s): Balin carries a Dwarven mace once made in the smithies of Erebor. Of copper color, the star-pointed blade is incredibly sharp. It is Balin's weapon of choice, his other ally in all of the battles he has fought in, and he is dangerously good with it.

APPEARANCES:

Facial Appearance: Balin looks as though he has seen one battle too many. He has expressive and scrutinizing brown eyes, a large hooked nose, and a long, white beard--traits that only add onto his already sage-like appearance.

Build: Balin, like many of his dwarf kin, is stout and a bit round in the belly. By dwarf standards, he is of an average height. He is older and very much looks his age, but he is still remarkably strong.

Distinguishing Marks: Balin has numerous scars from battle, all of which have their own memories attached. (That is because, of course, in many of the battles he has fought in or seen take place, Balin has lost people dear to him.) He also wears rich-looking, scarlet-colored robes.

Face Claim: Ken Stott

A LITTLE MORE IN-DEPTH:

Personality:

Balin has seen a great deal of the world--much of that its darker aspects. Yet he knows good exists, and thus it is that good which keeps him grounded. He is a strong believer in justice, but only justice tempered by mercy. In that same vein, despite his war-torn life, Balin is actually a considerably peaceful and gentle dwarf. He wishes for things to be done fairly and peacefully. He is a skilled fighter with no qualms about doing battle when necessary, but if given the choice, he would greatly prefer a settled life compared to the vagabond one he and his kin have come to know all-too-well. He is brave, he is loyal, and he possesses the natural fierceness of the dwarf people in battle. Yet he can also recall a time when there was peace in the world of the dwarves, and so it is that peaceful era that he holds onto in dear remembrance and seeks out.

Balin is likewise something of a sage. Well-read, traveled, and--naturally--experienced, he is the sort of dwarf who can provide great comfort and solid advice to those around him. Before the trials faced by his people with the dragon Smaug, Balin was considered to be artful with words and wise by the noble dwarves of Erebor, even despite his then very young age. That wisdom has only deepened with the years, and so his devout loyalty and sage-like wisdom are most certainly the trademarks of his character. He is not perfectly wise and nor he is flawless, but he is ultimately a good soul.

Side Note:This will be a bit monotonous now that I've provided a "personality," but since it was part of my original audition for the character, I'll keep it in here:

Likes:
Balin has lived anything but a simple life, yet it is, in fact, the simple things that appeal to him. He does not feel an immense greed for the treasure lost in Erebor and would somehow prefer the life Thorin Oakenshield has created for the dwarf people in the Blue Mountains. He enjoys peace and quiet, something which his life has had so very little of, and so by extension his has something of a fondness for Hobbits and their (in his mind peculiar) lifestyles. While he himself could never imagine living in a place such as the Shire, away from the protective strength of mountain walls, he can easily understand and appreciate the simple comforts of the Shire people.

As like any other dwarf, he enjoys a nice meal--particularly red meats and good beer, preferably malt--and time spent with good companions. He is not a particularly rowdy dwarf, but seeing his dwarf friends celebrating is certainly something that brings a smile to his face.

Of dwarf treasures, Balin especially likes mithril. To him, it is something of the essence of dwarven treasure and to be fiercely protected.

Naturally, along with his like of peace, Balin is very much an ally of justice.

Dislikes:
Balin greatly dislikes war and violence, though irony has seen to it that they have been a large part of his life. While he is skilled as a warrior even despite his age and has never shied away from the numerous battles in which he has taken part, he dislikes having to fight. Yet, as could be expected, he greatly dislikes orcs, goblins, trolls, and other such malevolent beings. They have been the prime reason for the death and destruction in the life of his family and kin, after all.

In that same vein, Balin does not much like elves. He is more impartial to them than fully disliking them the way Thorin does, but he does not easily trust elves--or any other race, for that matter, perhaps--with dwarven secrets and treasures. He is not so skeptical of them all as to cloud his own judgment, but he is most certainly wary of how involved they become in dwarven affairs.

History:

One of Durin's Folk, Balin is a noble-blooded dwarf born in T.A. 2763 to Fundin the dwarf. He was just seven years old when the dragon Smaug attacked the Lonely Mountain and drove out the dwarf colony. Even at that time he had been a close companion to Thorin, the dwarf prince. Following the attack on the Lonely Mountain, Balin's family moved to Dunland along with their king, Thror, where they lived as refugees and worked in the local forges. Balin's younger brother, Dwalin, was born two years after this.

By that point, violence and homelessness had become something of a routine for Balin and the other dwarves of Erebor. At the young age of thirty-six, he fought in the War of the Dwarves and Orcs, in the Battle of Azanulbizar at Moria, alongside his father, Fundin. This would be the battle that would claim Balin's father's life.

Following the battle, Balin and the rest of his kin, the Longbeards (lead by King Thrain II), returned to Dunland, but their restless and uneasy lifestyle began to eat away at them. It wasn't long before they moved on to Eriador, the Blue Mountains, and set to work making a new home for themselves there. Naturally, Balin went with his people. The moving he was no longer fond of, but he was grateful to be away from Dunland, and he had faith in the home King Thrain and the young prince, Thorin, were making for the dwarf people in the Blue Mountains.

Life in the Blue Mountains was not the same as it had been under the Lonely Mountain, but Balin had started to get himself accustomed to it. He knew that the dwarf colony there had only just begun. Given time and dedication, it could thrive. It would never be Erebor--he felt for sure that the glory of the Lonely Mountain kingdom was gone for good--but it would be a clean slate for the vagabond dwarves of Erebor, led by a good king. In his mind, he was sure that was all they needed.

But Erebor was not yet a lost cause for King Thrain, something Balin came to discover fairly soon after the move into the Blue Mountains. Still restless for the lost kingdom, Thrain went on an expedition back to the Lonely Mountain in 2851, asking Balin, his brother Dwalin, and a small number of other dwarves to return with him. Balin had his doubts about the mission even then, but his loyalty to the king was unfailing, and so he accompanied the other on the quest for the Lonely Mountain anyway. It resulted in only more battle and strife. Hounded by such foul creatures as orcs and wolves, King Thrain went missing after being separated from Balin and the rest of his company win Mirkwood. Balin and the others searched for the lost king, but he was never to be seen again. The trek back to the Blue Mountains was one of despair, and upon arrival, Balin had to report the dreaded news back to the dwarf prince, Thorin. With Thrain gone, Thorin had become the new king. Balin had already been a close friend to the prince--now he lay all his faith in him as king.

Time passed, the life under the Blue Mountains was building itself up and up--a life nothing like the one once seen in Erebor, but still remarkable enough to behold--and Balin finally began to get a sense of long-missed comfort about his life. His memories of war and destruction remained as strongly in his mind as the days they had all occurred, but he was determined to settle somewhere for good.

Yet it could not quite be that way...

Balin sensed it almost immediately. The same unease in his dear friend, Thorin, that he had sensed in King Thrain. The longing for "home." Not this new, made-up one, but the one that had been so unfairly stolen from them, the one that held all their beloved treasure.

Though life under the Blue Mountains has been going smoothly enough, Balin is aware that his dear friend and king's determination for Erebor grows with each day that passes. Before long, he is sure that the other will embark on a quest of his own for the mountain. And Balin himself knows without a doubt that should Thorin ask of it, he would accompany him to the Lonely Mountain, however much the thought of such a venture troubles him.

Roleplay Sample:

Tonight was not unlike others. It had all become routine, trekking through the wilderness, resting, trekking again, and camping, all so that it could be done again the next day, and the day after that and so on and so forth. This lifestyle of being constantly on the move, never in one place...it wasn't foreign to Balin or the other dwarves in the company. This had been a great part of many of their lives, for many of them did not have a real place they called home. It didn't mean, however, that it made the lifestyle any easier to bear. Balin himself was aware that he was not as young as he used to be, and while his age had yet to really slow him down, he often wondered deep inside himself if there would ever be a point when he could retire properly. Stay in one place, have somewhere to call a real home.


These days, on Thorin's quest for the Lonely Mountain, he often found himself awake even into the wee hours of the night. He was restless. Nothing about this quest was very easy, and they had already encountered enough danger along the way to only further his doubts about the entire thing. He had full trust in his own keen eyesight, and so on many nights such as this, if he could manage it, Balin found himself up, wide-awake along with the one other dwarf, hobbit, or wizard on guard duty, watching along with them for any unfriendly or unwanted presences.


Gandalf had the watch tonight. Balin's eyes darted over to the brilliant old wizard's direction, found the other's brow furrowed, his eyes gazing off as he thought deeply about something. Gandalf was always thinking. Balin imagined there couldn't have been a point yet in the wizard's long life where he hadn't been carefully considering something in that big old head of his. An absolute genius. That, and Balin had something of an unshakeable faith in Gandalf the Grey. The wizard was an oddity in his own right, cavorting with dwarves and elves and hobbits, what have you, but he had proved himself to be a valuable ally and friend to the dwarves. And that in itself was special; dwarves did not trust easily.


Gandalf had also been the one who had insisted on bringing along Bilbo Baggins, the young hobbit from Bag End.


Balin looked to Bilbo now and realized that the sight of the lad had brought a smile to his face. The hobbit was no youngster by his own people's standards, but to Balin, he was little more than a babe. Perhaps it was that sense of innocence about Bilbo that Balin so appreciated and felt a need to protect. And thus far, the hobbit hadn't exactly proven himself to be the most capable little fellow--more trouble than he was worth, if he was going to be honest about things--but something about him had grown on Balin.


The dwarf had had his first glimpse of the Shire when Thorin and his people had made for the Blue Mountains. A cozy world of green, motley-colored flowers, and plains with open, sea-blue sky. The simplicity of the hobbits, the peace, their ignorance to all else that happened in the world...Balin hadn't fully understood it himself, but then, the lives of his people had been fraught with violent wars. They would never know--nor, likely, understand--the kind of lives hobbits lived. Balin had been nonetheless envious, though perhaps it had been something about that envy, about the distance of the Shire-folk from all other Middle Earth people, that had made him come to quite like their burglar, Bilbo Baggins. He was an unlikely burglar--he hadn't even been able to cope with the ponies at first, poor bugger--but he was nonetheless a remarkable fellow. Bit by bit, he was finding his way through all the madness of this adventure. He was becoming deeply immersed in it all. And though his face looked peaceful in rest this night, Balin was sure that the quest was following Bilbo even through his dreams.


Having been through such a life himself, Balin pitied Bilbo for that very reason. The young hobbit had a taste for adventure, and that was undoubtedly what he would get...but that thirst would never be quenched. Assuming he made it through all of this unscathed, it would continue on within the hobbit, eating at him from the inside out. It was exactly as Gandalf said. He would never be the same. There were some things even time could not heal, after all. And the thought of the innocent hobbit experiencing the taint of the world...it bothered Balin. He had not been entirely for this venture to the Lonely Mountain himself, and it directly involved him. This was not Bilbo's war to fight, and yet he had been swept up into it anyway. It all felt very wrong.


Confound it, the old dwarf thought to himself, looking to the starry skies above, his own brow furrowed in deep thought. He loved Thorin dearly, trusted in him, longed to protect him and whatever else that might entail. He would be loyal, as he always had. Even if he was still somehow against the venture to the mountain. Confound the quest, confound hobbits, and confound the damnable need for treasure.


Balin traced the stars above with his eyes, constellations he remembered from his days as a dwarf child. Despite all that had gone on in the world, all that they--the sparkling, diamond eyes of the sky--had seen come to pass below, they still remained looking on, shining as brightly as they always had. They had endured.


And that was the strength of the dwarves, too. To endure.



Balin sighed. Whatever happened in all of this, he would remain devoted to Thorin and this company. And he would believe in Gandalf. And their confounded little hobbit burglar. He would follow them to the ends of the earth and help as best as he could. He knew this for sure.

BEHIND THE SCREEN:

Alias: Pumpkin
Codeword:
Experience: I've been writing for well over 12 years, and roleplaying for over 10~
How you found us?: Through my twin, who is app-ing for Bilbo, actually~
Other Characters: None yet
How should we contact you?: PM is good!