Almost every major character in the Ceristen Series was once a warped version of a character from some fandom.

Read that sentence carefully.

Almost every major character in the Ceristen Series was once a warped version of a character from some fandom.

The many families who journeyed to Mordor/Orden were all connected to the Lord of the Rings by their names: Fred = Frodo, Sandy = Sam; Mordred = Merry, Laufeia = Legolas. For whatever reason, there was nothing we loved more than to repeat the LotR storyline over and over with our own characters, following certain events religiously, every time, and skewing others just as religiously, every time; making the heroes villains and the villains (occasionally) heroes; generally just exploring what happened when new characters were put into the holes left by the old.

Once the families reached Ceristen/the Cracks of Doom, they either settled down or drifted away, and any immediate resemblance they had to Tolkien characters vanished.

Except...

The earliest families, made before we got busy with our creative license, still bore the names: Gandalf, Galadriel, Boromir, Gimli, and so forth. We didn't bother about that; it added an extra dimension of hilarity to the world.

Then I started writing it all down.

The names had to go.

So we're going to take a look at a couple well-known characters from the Ceristen series... and the background that lies behind them.

***WARNING!***

***SENSATIONAL MATERIAL AHEAD!***

***THE SECRET LIVES OF CERISTEN UNMASKED!!!***

***KENNETH DENHOLM'S PRIVATE IDENTITY: REVEALED!***

***THE TRUTH ABOUT MR. EARLE***

*cough* I'm not a drama queen *cough*

And the first vic- I mean, characters are...

The Denholms

Kenneth Denholm's, or, pardon me, Aragorn Dunedain's journey to Orden was full of adventure. To start out with, his little brother Legolas was really annoying. Besides that, he was traveling with the usual repertoire of weird and wacky people who made up the Fellowship of the Ring, and two of them, Boromir Stewart and his sister Gilla(Gimli), made his life a living nightmare. Not to mention Arwen wanted to marry the most important person in the world, whom she happened to have decided was the heir of Isildur, and said heir of Isildur wasn't one bit interested in her advances.

(It may be said here and now that Arwen eventually settled down quite happily with Sauron the King of Mordor, realizing that he was a good deal more powerful and influential than the heir of Isildur, and they had a young son named Henry, who after his father's death declared war on Rodron.)

Most heirs of Isildur showed scant interest in becoming king of Gondor, and Aragorn Dunedain was no exception. He got a house in the Cracks of Doom and lived there with his younger brother, no doubt thinking the crazy days were over. But woe to him... he wasn't alone in his decision to stay in Mordor.

Gilla Stewart believed that Aragorn was responsible for her brother Boromir's death, although Boromir had reappeared from his ride down Rauros Falls hale and whole, without his penchant for doing impossible stunts one whit diminished. Instead of being restrained and having her insanity treated, Gilla was let to roam free, shrieking insults at Aragorn Dunedain for killing her brother in cold blood, even when Boromir Stewart came on the scene and wished his sister a good afternoon.

And then, there was Legolas to be reckoned with. Because Legolas Dunedain, i.e. Jonathan Denholm, picked all the wrong role models. He liked to trail Legolas Boogibog around(see chapter: The People Who Don't Exist), thought Boromir Stewart was cool for ziplining across telephone wires, and snuck into the Wilds of Orodruin(read: the Wilds of Thiranu) to watch the giant bear Mordu in his rampages. Plus he was that annoying kid who asks "Why?" every time he's told to do something.

It's to Aragorn Dunedain's credit that he genuinely cared about his little brother, something not often seen in the crazy world of Mordor where so many people were crazy/stupid/annoying and on that account were abandoned and left to their own devices. Aragorn persisted in going after his younger brother, dragging him out of his scrapes, scolding him, and trying to turn him into a decent young man. It's traits like these that showed up in The Village.

And Legolas Dunedain, annoying as he was, genuinely loved his older brother. And even back then, he displayed his traits of odd perceptivity for his age, paired with a childish forthrightness and an admirable sense of pluck. When a giant chipmunk stormed through the Cracks of Doom and wrecked the Dunedains' house, Legolas went after it with a stick into the Wilds of Orodruin, only to find the bones(it had been eaten by Mordu).

Despite their bond, and Aragorn's obvious efforts he went to to discipline, protect, and civilize his brother, there were two people as convinced of his scurrility as Gilla.

One of these was a random schoolteacher who saw Legolas running around wild and attributed it to Aragorn's lack of concern. Because this was Crazy Legea, her prejudice soared until Aragorn was in her eyes a total sadistic monster who beat his brother at home and treated him like a slave.

The other person was one whom Aragorn Dunedain would have preferred to have think well of him. This elderly man, who thought Aragorn was "no-good", a "scandalous young man like the rest of this generation", a "degenerate scoundrel who probably runs with gangs", a "hot-headed young rip", and many other terms that did not describe Aragorn in the least, was Gandalf Earle.

A pity, because Aragorn Dunedain was courting his granddaughter.

Yes, Kenneth and Marianne were a couple even then. Their romance was a kind of unwilling-Cinderella story, involving a massive character-turnaround for Marianne.

*looks back fondly* Fun stuffs.

Speaking of Marianne...

The Earles

We commonly referred to Mr. Earle as Mr. Earle even in Crazy Legea. His first name, however, was Bilbo. His aging father was Gandalf, his son (Jared) was Gimli, and his younger son, later deleted from the family tree, was Philippe-Pierre Augustine, called Pip. (We had been reading Great Expectations for school around this time, so Pip was not merely a nod to Peregrin Took but also Charles Dickens' protagonist.)

We wanted a couple girls in this family, so we quickly feminized the names of the other three hobbits. Frodo, Bilbo Earle's wife, became the unconventional Frodinka. Sam was easy = Samantha, as was Merry = Marianne. Legolas was added in as Lianne, and finally we tacked on Lobelia Sackvillenesia Baggenesianatha.

The cumbersome/outlandish names were blamed on the grandfather.

Gimli/Jared gets his screentime in The Claw, but you get hints that he was feeling angst-y for a long time before that. In Crazy Legea, the angst gave rise to, well, craziness. He tried some less-than-ideal ways to dodge his parents' authority, which included running away and getting captured by a group of wanted criminals who were hiding out in the Wilds(this group of criminals was highly detailed, very dear to our hearts, and deserves its own chapter someday.)

Pip, on the other hand, was so boring to us that we made him go mad for a while, and then after his mad self had bored us for a year we tied it in to this creepy guy who was going around Ceristen taking over people's minds. By this time the war was over; Berethar had arrived in Ceristen, and he and Mordred were best buds. Jedediah Crayes was starting to show his epic side, and we had stopped calling him Sherlock Holmes.

Jedediah Crayes

We dragged anything we had ever read that deserved mention to the Cracks of Doom. Even things we despised we brought there. Nancy Drew irritated us: we brought her to the Cracks of Doom with her boyfriend in supremely irritating flair. The Happy Hollisters also arrived as a pack of emo teenage petty criminals. Woody and Lotso bear from Toy Story dominated the scene on a regular basis. Eragon. Narnia. Agatha Christie's Poirot. And of course Sherlock Holmes joined the party.

Now, because we exaggerated everybody, we exaggerated Sherlock Holmes, as if the original wasn't hyperbolic enough already. He stalked about with his trademark cap, a lean mean machine with a hair-trigger temper pouncing on every Clue he saw. He was literally unfazable, and he was the person who got called on by Mordor City police whenever there was a crime that needed "solving". He was also the impersonal embodiment of the Law; in fact, you might call him a more unstable version of Inspector Javert from Les Miserables in the detached way he held up standards and examples. More unstable, I say, because of his volatile temper. He figured with immense prominence in The Claw, along with an equally exaggerated version of Hercule Poirot, and we got a kick out of watching them strike sparks off each other.

And where was Watson in all this? Oh, Watson, that boring fellow. We turned him into a grossly overweight character who walked around eating peanuts with oily fingers and trying to associate with Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock Holmes despised him with ultimate passion, and I recall vividly one instance where, after Watson had brushed past him, Sherlock Holmes fled, chopped a hole in the Cracks of Doom's frozen lake, and leaped in to wash away the stigma of those oily fingers.

Well, Watson faded away. But Sherlock Holmes couldn't: he was far too beloved even as his one-dimensional self, not to mention useful. Need a quick rescue in an utterly impossible situation? We had a superhero to do the job. And he couldn't stay that empty 1D character either. Like everyone else, he was unconsciously deepening. The first telltale sign was when the trite "stock phrase" that we constantly used for him -- "I have no friends; everyone is a potential criminal" -- began to sound a little forced rolling off his tongue, at least around a certain young Kenhelm. Mercy and I watched with genuine delight. What a little liar he was! It was so obvious he cared about Mordred. But we pretended we were oblivious; we didn't even suggest it to each other for a long time. It was so off the wall for Sherlock Holmes to have affection for anyone.

His personality traits started to develop and manifest themselves in little things. Sherlock Holmes didn't use to be talkative, but he was starting to prattle on about almost anything: his expertise, other people's idiocy, whatever irritated him. He grew fallible, too; gone the super-hero of Mordor City. And as his mannerisms grew more fine-tuned, his meld of blunt and subtle emerging, we began to increasingly see how grounded he was in a need for truth. He had always lauded his own talents, but now he referred to them in an offhand manner, or alluded to them in more subtle ways, and basked wickedly in the glow of compliments instead -- especially when they came from his *AHEM!* acquaintances. His quirk of catching himself before the word "friend" and covering it lamely with another suitable noun never failed to cause us mirth.

The dead giveaway about his "friends" came a year after the War(in Legea timeline), when there was a little adventure in Ceristen with a murderer(we liked dragging murderers into Ceristen... for some reason?). Sherlock Holmes, during this tense time, acted in a horrifically uncharacteristic way to Mordred. This shook me on several levels.

One, there was something wrong with my dear character for him to be acting like this, because yes, he cared about Mordred. Two, he was dear to me. Three, he had a personality that behaved, under normal circumstances, in predictable ways. He wasn't Doyle's Sherlock Holmes, but he wasn't a caricature of Sherlock Holmes either. He was someone all our own.

Then, during the aforementioned drama with the Mad Pip Earle, a totally unprecedented thing happened. Jeddy got angry. Not the surface fluff, not the petty explosive rage. Really, dreadfully, rightfully angry. He got angry and it was the most epic and wonderful and terrifying thing that had ever happened in our talk-play. In that moment, he blazed forth into a whole dynamic character.

We were sold. We were goners. We loved him.

Because of his involvement in The War and (we thought then) The Claw, we realized we were going to have to change his name. This was a toughie for me. Usually I was able to find something easily that rang a bell of familiarity with the old name, but Sherlock Holmes was a perfectly unique character. I needed something both a little eccentric and at the same time very solid and, well, rather English, you might say. Something that showed both his erratic, explosive, voluble side, and his firm anchor on reality and the truth.

I was flipping through the baby name book, shelving names for future reference, and I don't know how it exactly dawned on me, but suddenly it was there. Jedediah Crayes. The blend of everything I wanted in all its glory of perfection. I dashed out of the room squealing, "Mercy, Jedediah Crayes! Sherlock Holmes' name is Jedediah Crayes!"

In the old Legea, Sherlock Holmes was a master marksman and carried several braces of pistols on his person. After some time, this too had to go. We watched the guns fade away with deep regret, but the sting is gone now. After all, we replaced them with Jeddy's staggering collection of knives, and those are maybe just a little more thrilling.

We'll close out today's study of characters with a look at...

The General (and the Captains)

You probably know by now that King Conrad III used to be Sauron. By logical deduction, the General was the Witch King, and the Captains the other eight Nazgul.

This was, in fact, the case.

The government structure of Orden, now officially decreed in writing by the amazing Mercy, still reflects this:

This is, incidentally, why in my earliest drafts Captain Rhodes has the ignominous title of "Captain No. 3." Because, earlier, he was Nazgul No. 3. Captain Murray was Nazgul No. 2, which should come as no surprise to anyone who recalls their rivalry.

The first time the Witch King showed up as anyone of note, it was when he attacked Minas Tirith on a whim and got defeated by Eowyn. The shame of this, or perhaps the massive concussion he received as a result, kept him quiet for awhile after, but got him quite a few newspaper headlines. When he recovered, it was to the vast disappointment of Captain No. 2/Captain Murray, who had been planning a takeover upon his presumed death. The chemistry that resulted from Captain Murray's later remorse was fun, but rejected nonetheless in favor of a loyal but bitter character.

Those top three were the most developed in personality. Captain No. 5/Captain Rhinehart's defining characteristic for a long time was his terrible singing voice. Captain No. 4/Captain Keyes was a sidekick for Captain No. 2(they both fell in love with the same girl, at different times, and were both rejected). Captain No. 6 was a smart-aleck, Captain No. 7 a hero-worshipper of Captain No. 2. Wow, Captain No. 2 had a lot of charisma back then, apparently...

The Witch King's personality underwent a slow and rather torturous metamorphosis. From the brash young fellow who went out to conquer Minas Tirith and came back half dead, he somehow ended up as the person that everyone called out for any problem in Mordor City, not to mention the colony of Rauros Falls (read: Tharen Falls) a few hundred miles away, and the person who had to take care of everything that incompetent King Sauron couldn't handle. With this change, he evidently had to be a semi-capable man, and not the weirdo who randomly decides to attack cities that weren't attacking him. He developed a little of the nice-but-overworked CEO aspect. We grew fond of him.

He still had no face.

It was a very, very long time before we were able to picture the General and Captains with faces like any other human being. We even discussed the idea of having them in the book as these people who "are really just like other people, they just... have the misfortune to have no face." A birth peculiarity? A side effect of becoming a Mordorian Nazgul?

Eventually, they were all blessed with faces, and Captain Rhodes and Captain Murray have clearly delineated, beautifully unique features that I can visualize on the instant.

Strangely, it's still the General's face that is the part of him I am least aware of when I picture him in my head. It's the way he stands, the set of his shoulders, the lift of his head, the way he moves. His gentle, commanding presence that magnetizes the people to him. And I think that's the way it ought to be.

Hope you enjoyed this tour of the people who still exist... just DIFFERENT! I'm working on a really fun trivia chapter, but it's taken a back seat lately to writing in Path of the Tempest. Speaking of PotT, I've got a backup of some really exciting chapters that I can't wait to post!!! As soon as my last reader catches up... ;)