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I was born in Westmark to a Cavalry Pæthfindian and his wife. I know for a fact they wanted a boy; not because they told me so, but purely by the fact that my father’s gift to me on my birthdays was always something that could cause pain. Dad, whom I called "Athair", spent a lot of time with me: riding around the countryside, taking care of the horses, and showing me many things like how to field-dress a deer, what to look for in a good horse, how to scout the terrain without being discovered, and how to effectively kill an enemy. When I was about eight I met Blædtunge. We were inseparable. I would often go help him out with his farm chores so he could get them over with more quickly and we could go out with Athair and track wolves. But a year later my world turned upside down. It was the middle of the night and suddenly Athair was in my room shaking me awake. There was an odd glow in the air. His voice sounded forcedly calm when he told me to get my cloak and meet him outside. As we sneaked out the back entrance I saw grotesque shapes moving about. I had never seen orcs before, but I knew what they were from Athair’s descriptions. Mother was already in our stable out back when we came in; Athair put me on his horse in front of Mother and gave me his sword. He told me to use it wisely and protect her. I wanted to cry, but I put on a brave face and gripped the sword as hard as I could. Athair led the horse quietly around the town, then told Mother to ride hard and not look back. She suddenly went into hysterics, and I with her. Athair looked about to cry himself, so he gave the horse a solid slap on the rump and it galloped off. Mere seconds later I looked back and saw Athair in the grasp of a pair of orcs. I turned my head forward again and my mind went completely blank. The horse galloped blindly on for hours. It was almost daybreak when we suddenly came up on a narrow canyon. The horse attempted to jump it, but at the last second he tripped and sent Mother and I flying into the river below. I was swept downstream and never saw my mother again. I don’t remember much about the next few days, but I do recall wandering about in a strange town by the sea. An old man came up to me, excecuted a double-take, and leaned down closer to see my face. He told me that I was the spitting image of my mother. This man, unbelievably, was my grandfather. He took me in and raised me; taught me something of navigation and shiplore, and gave me my beloved horse Aduaidh. I loved my grandfather, but my heart yearned for the green fields of Rohan, so when I was old enough, I packed up, said farewell to Grandfather, and headed back. The rest is history. I joined the Cavalry, was reunited with Blæd, made new friends, and discovered that Rider’s Ale is a heck of a lot better than sailor’s grog and hardtack. I have my beautiful horse, wonderful companionship, a place to live...oh, but life is good! Forth Eorlingas! |