Desultory Dwimmerlaik
Join Date: Mar 2002
Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat.....
Posts: 7,779
|
Dedicated Character - Male Dúnedain Youth (child of the woman and soldier) – Novnarwen
Name Brander
Age 16
Gender Male
Race Men, Dunedain
Weapons: None. He has never had any use of weapons. When not being able to see the enemy (if there is any at all), what is the use of a sword, a knife or a bow? To him, a weapon would not serve as a protection; it would be quite the opposite.
Appearance : As his one year older brother, his skin is light (almost pale). Brander has a lot of freckles covering his nose and small parts of his chin; he has definitely more freckles than his brother, and it’s certainly noticeable. His face is formed far more oblong than his brother, giving him a much larger forehead (without it being so big that he’s not good looking). It makes him look rather strict and important, but his childish features and expressions will easily dominate most of the time. He has sharp features. Especially his high cheekbones and his straight nose are what people take notice to at first. Then there are his eyes; Brander hardly opens them, as it makes not difference to him. (He is blind, and has been from birth.) However, when he does open them, most people are amazed by the sparkling green colour which hides under his heavy lids. As he is a very happy and pleased person, he smiles almost constantly, revealing his white big teeth, which are all situated nicely like small pearls in his jaw. Brander has curly, half long hair, which is a mixture between blonde and light brown. He is slight and slim figure, but he is still muscular. He is taller than average people. He dresses normally in light colours, as that fits his personality the best; a light-hearted lad with few worries. Even though he has not seen himself, ever, he is quite confident that he is a handsome young man, having been told so by others.
Personality/Strengths/Weaknesses: His broad smile and his sense of humour are two of his most recognisable characteristics. Brander appears to others to be a very happy person, who smiles and laughs often. He is witty, and is in many ways very charming. He is open-minded about most things, intelligent, but quick headed. He connects easily to people. In others words, he is a very social being, who tends to get restless when not being around people. Sometimes though, he might be slightly sceptic towards new relations, as it’s very difficult for him to distinguish between true friends and others whose only intentions are to take advantage of him.
Brander has of course many weaknesses due to the fact that he is blind. Naturally, he can’t do everything everyone else can. Being blind though, has made Brander aware and appreciate many things that others do not. He lives by hearing, touching and smelling; he does not take these things for granted as most people do. His senses are his only tools in the world, and he is grateful for what he has.
Brander is often reminded of his handicap. Hearing others speaking aloud about their doings - what they have seen - is particularly difficult. The feeling of being excluded isn't to be avoided. He is excluded, because there are many things he cannot do. Sometimes he feels lonely, even though he sits in a room with a dozen others. He feels that people’s lack of understanding towards the situation he finds himself in, is rather horrifying. He feels that instead of appreciating him as he is, people tend to pity him. They pity him because he is blind; they pity him for the wrong reasons! Brander is overly convinced that his blindness should not be a reason for feeling sorry for him. With a little help, he could, as he often says, manage very well on his own. People who treat as if he was a petty little creature who cannot do anything on his own, is the reason why he also feels so abandoned, or set aside in and by the society. No one approaches him like a normal person. They treat him as if he was a child, as if he was dumb. It is a mystery to him why people who can see, can't see that he is exactly like them...
History Brander was born in late winter time of the Third Age 1988. At that time, no one knew that the newly born boy was blind, and that after sixteen years he would still be. At the age of five or six, Brander still remember discovering that something was odd, something which affected him in more than one way. His mother was pointing at a horse and he could not see it. The reason why he did not know it before was that he was not aware of the senses he possessed, and the senses others (like his mother) possessed. He knew what a horse was; how it sounded, how it felt, but how it looked like, was an enigma. So, it was at that time his mother and father, and others, became aware of the boy's handicap. Due to this, Brander was not sent to school at first, as his parents thought it rather useless. Why waste money on a boy who could probably not learn anything at all? To Brander it did not seem such a big deal in the beginning. He hardly knew what school and education was. He learned form his own experiences and he learned from hearing others tell their tales; what more was there to learn? Through his early teens, he spent his days sitting outside in the sun, taking long walks with whoever was interested and so forth. Then, one day, his perspective on life changed drastically. It was early morning, and Brander had just eaten breakfast. As adventurous as he is, he had planned on going for a walk; this time, he planned on going alone. Telling no one of this, he made his way out of the house where the family lived, and found his way out on the street. He’d heard someone calling for him, on the other side. In mere enthusiasm that someone was calling for him, he ran, crossing the street. What he wasn’t aware of, as he was blind, was that a laden wagon dragged by two strong horses was coming his way in a terrible speed. Had it not been for an observant young man, (who had disappeared after the event,) Brander would have been run over and most likely dead. This, mainly, was the reason why he changed. He changed for the better; he became far more independent and determined. He decided that he could not, and would not, live his life doing nothing only because he could not see. It was not going to be an obstacle for living a normal life. Instead of sitting helplessly and without goals at home, he managed at last to convince his parents to send him to school. He could learn and he would. Even though he could not read, and was never going to, he learned much by just being present, hearing others read or do their lessons. This gave him great pleasure; he even found himself taking part in most of the activities; activities he never thought he would be able to take part in. At the age of fifteen, one year later than his brother, he left school, having learnt everything there was to learn, or so he thought...
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Novnarwen's post
Brander had been sitting on a wooden stool for several hours now, in the middle of the bedroom, second floor of his family’s residence. Silently, he listened to the noises that filled the air. By hearing the sound of steel against steel, the cries of pain and roars of either personal victory or of horror, the blind boy managed to make images in his head of every aspect of the battle. He could almost see the soldiers struggling against hordes of Angmar, trying to manoeuvre the enemy into defeat. He could see everything so clearly, probably clearer than others who had a perfect vision; the sky was dark, choking every happy moment in the soldiers’ memory as they fought what seemed to be an endless battle. As a carpet, the heavy clouds lay floating over them, deep and threatening, suppressing every good feeling which still remained in their tired bodies. Fright and terror took command over them and forced the men to turn around to meet their worst fear; not the orcs themselves, but death. Death and defeat. They knew in their hearts that they, soldiers, were the symbol of hope during this battle; if they were defeated, there would be no hope left.
At times when he sat there, quietly by himself, feeling useless and weak, his brother, Faerim, and his father, Carthor, appeared in a long series of images, both in the ongoing battle. Did any of the cries of pain and despair belong to them? He wondered. Brander had never cared much for his father. He neither loved nor hated him. Indifference, one could call it. Now however, realising that death was so close, he felt badly about his feelings towards the man who had bred and fed him. Was he not grateful for what his father, and mother, had given him? To some extent he was, Brander admitted. The problem was not what Carthor had given him, it was what he hadn’t, which, in Brander’s eyes, were far more important than other things. His father had never given him what most fathers gave their sons, such as confidence, trust and responsibility. Carthor had never been proud of him either, partly because Brander had never really achieved anything significant, which was most due to his blindness, but Carthor had never given him the chance to do anything either. Brander tried being independent, tried trusting his own abilities more than others’ willingness to help, but it was hard when he was always being looked down on, not only by his father, but also by others. Society in general seemed to hate the fact that he was blind and decided thus to ignore him. He was educated and young; it should not be hard for a man like himself to get work. In his case it was however. Brander had tried many a time, but everything had resulted in the same manner.
He closed his eyes hard, tried thinking about something else; in fact, anything else. His mind failed him. His father was out there; he was indifferent about what happened to him. He hoped on the other hand, that his brother would return home safely. He and his mother Lissi had expected Faerim for the last hour, but his brother had not come back. What ill has befallen him? Brander wondered. Even though his brother was always favoured by their father, he loved his brother. There were few who treated him the way he did, equally and with respect. If Faerim died, Brander would also.
**
Slowly, time went by. It seemed that while he’d been sitting on the stool, thinking about his brother and father and listening to the sounds from the ever growing battlefield just inside the walls of Fornost, he had forgotten how hungry and how tired he was. Now drowsiness was sneaking upon him, as a sly enemy, making his eyelids heavy. He stood up and walked silently over to the bed in the corner of the room. His brother would come; in the meantime, he could sleep.
Everything he’d heard when being awake, the sound of the wall falling and the men crying, had surely been tucked into his sub consciousness and was currently depriving him of the good sleep usually brings. The images he had so effectively and eagerly created, haunted him. The uneasiness he felt could be seen as pearls of sweat bathed his forehead and doubled quickly in number. He lay trembling with fear as the face, or the image, of Faerim appeared in front of him. His whole figure seemed to rise up in front of him, enlarging by every second passing. Suddenly, a bow, right in front of him, was spent. An arrow, as fast as the eagles fly, ran through the air, almost touching the dark clouds; its target had been carefully planned in advance. A scream of horror echoed. A man sunk to the ground, his face halfway buried in the sand. He writhed in pain, rolling back and forth, until he rolled no longer. The features in his sombre face could be determined by a weak source of light; the image of the pale face belonged to without a doubt his dear brother Faerim.
Brander opened his eyes wide. With tears in his eyes, he realised that the arrow had not been sent by his brother; the bow had been spent by an unknown enemy, hidden in the shadows. He rose quickly to his feet, greatly alarmed by this frightening, but yet realistic dream. “It cannot be true,” he muttered to himself, “It cannot.” He wanted to call for his mother, but the thought of making her worried with his dream, seemed to be the dumbest thing he could do. After all, it was only a dream. Nothing more. When thinking it through though, he realised that the man in the dream might as well have been his father. I’m blind, he thought, I don’t know how either of them look like. It’s only an image, an image of a person I don’t know. This seemed to comfort him, and with renewed hope in seeing his brother come home soon, he took his position on the stool again and waited.
Last edited by piosenniel; 01-09-2005 at 03:19 PM.
|