[piosenniel]

Arry’s character

NAME: Brand,

AGE: 20 years old

RACE: Men

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: An old short sword, plain blade with leather wrapped grip – passably fair at using it. An all purpose double edged knife he always wears on his belt – uses it throughout his daily routine. Weapon of choice is his stout oak cudgel he uses when out with the small flock of sheep belonging to his family.

APPEARANCE: 5’ 6”, 140 lbs; fair skinned with an uneven light tan; lean build, lithely muscled; straw blond hair, chopped off just below the shoulders and bound back with a leather thong. Dark blue eyes. Wears dark brown breeches, homespun tunic, brown leather belt with a brass buckle. Scuffed mid-calf boots Has a tightwoven cloak his mother made him – light brown.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Brand is a quiet, even tempered, dependable fellow. Hardworker. Likes to see a task through to the very end. He likes the rhythm of the old ways, or so he calls them, doesn’t care much for change, and can be quite suspicious of any who live outside his village. He weighs almost everything in light of how it will benefit his family first and then his townsmen. He is, of course, a loyal man to his King, and would knock anyone down with a blow from his cudgel who’d gainsay him. The King, though, is more a vague idea to him than a real man.

HISTORY: He comes from a long line of sheep farmers, and as the only son, he expects to take over the running of the family farm when he is older. He has two sisters, both older than he by several years – Hilde and Winnifred. They are married and plague him constantly with invitations to meet what they consider suitable matches for him. He is not in the market for a wife at present. He has projects about the family farm he wants done before he starts thinking of a family. He’s not traveled much – just those times with the flock as he moved them from grassy area to grassy area. And never across The Great River. Those times they move to summer pasture, he rides among them on his sturdy chestnut mare; his hound running at his side, keeping the sheep together. Dog and horse are as even tempered as their master.

Over the past year, the villagers have heard rumors of Orc and East-men pushing against the outlying borders of those little hamlets that lie just east of the river and beyond. Brand has pushed down the panic and fear those stories first brought him. Now he is determined to figure out some way he can be of use in the protection of his family, his village, and the livelihoods that sustain them.

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FIRST POST FOR THE GAME FOR THE ROHAN VILLAGERS


Arry’s post


The iron bell that hung in the wooden tower above the Lord of Wulfham’s mead-hall rang out in the dark watches of the night. Aldwulf, the march-warden for this far eastern area of the Riddermark, sat in his carved chair giving orders to his wife and sons. They moved quietly and efficiently about him – pushing back benches and tables to make room for the crowd they knew would soon be there; heating up kettles of water for the hot tea the cold and tired villagers would need to hear the news.

Aldwulf rubbed his thumb along his coarsely bearded jawline. It was a nervous habit of his, helped him keep his focus he told himself. Tonight that was a lie. He couldn’t focus, not yet. The news was still too fresh. It made his gut ice cold to think of the horror that was coming their way.

A messenger had come earlier in the evening from one of the small hamlets a week’s ride north of Wulfham. The smoke they’d been seeing on the far hills now had a hideous face he’d told them. Orcs and men from the east-lands had made their way near to The Great River. A number of Outlander villages that lay in their path had been razed – the houses and barns burned to the ground, the people killed. The headman for the messenger’s village had sent him and a number of other messengers out to warn those who dwelt near them. And he, himself, had been sent by the headman to let the marchwarden know what was happening.

Questioned by Aldwulf, the man told him that many of the villages were heading to safety. A number to small fortressed hills further westward and some even making the long march to Edoras. ‘It is said,’ the messenger told him, that some great power to the south and east of us presses against the Mark and would swallow us one by one, until his shadow covers the grasslands and we are no more.’

The man would not stay once his message was delivered and the lord’s questions answered. He took a quick meal, a cup of ale. and then was on his way, riding back to intercept his own village’s flight to a place of safety.

‘Rouse yourself, Aldwulf,’ he heard his wife say as he considered the choices before him. ‘The crowd is come through the gate and will soon enter the hall.’ She handed him his thick vest to put on, for it was still cool in the hall, thought they’d piled the grates with wood and the flames licked at the offering hungrily. He tied back his grey shot hair with the piece of cord she gave him next and stood up before his chair as the villagers entered.

^*^*^*^

Brand squeezed along the south wall of the hall, making his way to a place nearer the raised platform where the Lord stood, talking to the heads of some of the more prosperous families in the village as well as the man who captained his small company of warriors. Brand waved off the offer of tea, focusing his gaze on that core of decision makers. Something big was happening and those who saw to the welfare of the village were discussing what should be done.

Aldwulf finished speaking to the men near him and motioned for the crowd to attend him. With an economy of words he explained the situation – that a messenger had come and the news bode ill for Wulfham. In the space of a few days, he would expect the villagers to pack up their belongings and be ready to move themselves and their animals to the safety of the King’s own city. The warriors would ride with them for protection, he told the people, many of whom were already muttering about the plan, both from fear and from the tumultuous turn they knew their lives would soon be taking.

Many questions were shouted at Aldwulf. And he took them as calmly as he could, giving as much assurance as he could to his frightened and angry people. When the asking was all done, and the ruffled feelings smoothed over for the moment, he raised his hand again, calling for quiet.

‘I have need of a small party of volunteers,’ he said, his gaze going about the room. ‘Fast riders to bring this news to Edoras. The King will want to protect his people and to do so he will need to know what we have learned. I would send some of my own armed men, but I want them all with us as we travel.’

His eyes rested on a number of folk about the hall and then moved on. ‘Four young people, those for whom others can pick up their responsibilities is what I want . . . what Wulfham needs.’ He nodded toward the captain of his men who began moving through the crowd with three other of his warriors.

Brand watched as three of them clapped their hands on the shoulders of a young villager each and led him or her . . . for there were two females he noted with some astonishment . . . to where the march-warden waited. ‘Poor sods,’ he murmured to himself, thanking his lucky stars that he did not stand among them.

Much to his surprise and dismay a voice rang out behind him. ‘There you are!’ the captain, himself, said, drawing near. He grasped Brand’s shoulder and urged him firmly toward the others.

A short while passed and villagers began to return to their houses, most to begin the long job of sorting through what they would need to bring; many to weep at what they must leave behind.

Brand and his chosen companions were told to go home and get what rest they could. Aldwulf would see them back at the hall midmorning to instruct them on what he wished them to do. ‘Bring your horses and what weapons you might have,’ he told them. ‘My house will fill your packs with food for traveling and with drink for several days' journey. You will leave directly then for the King with my written message.’

He nodded to them once he had finished speaking and then wishing them well, dismissed them to their beds.