Post by Herebrand on Feb 8, 2012 13:09:05 GMT -5
Here follows an account of how Herebrand, a Rider of the Riddermark, left the lands of his home and came to Bree
Herebrand, a man of Rohan, was unlike his countrymen. As well as being skilled with a sword, as the Rohirrim were wont to be in those days, he was also enamoured with the smithing of metals, chiefly to make armour, and also displayed an unusual interest in the lands outside the borders of his own country. Old maps he would often consult; ever he would seek for news of distant lands, and would ride far afield to hear it, and his eyes were more often than not drawn to the empty and little-known lands beyond the river Adorn (which forms the wild western border of Rohan).
He had heard in his youth tales of the ancient land of Arnor, the sad fate that befell that realm, and where dwelt still, it was rumoured, the descendants of the Kings of Men. A great desire grew in his heart to see these lands with his own eyes, and walk, if he might, in the footsteps of those Men who could count the Kings of old as their kin. He took it upon himself to begin a great journey, wherefore he might one day come to places that few of the Rohirrim had seen.
He forded with difficulty the river Gwathló, which Men call the Greyflood, and rode North along the old Royal Road which was built by the Numenoreans in ages past. He rode with care through many empty lands and knew not what had caused them to be silent, yet he knew in his heart not to dwell, and pressed on.
He found, after many days journeying, the village of Bree, and decided to remain to learn what he could of the Bree-land and the lands around it, where folk spoke of the mysterious Rangers who did not rest. All that he heard was overshadowed by the encroaching darkness that had again returned to Middle-earth, and he saw how the fate of his own country was bound to the greater fate of the world at large.
His sword was sharp, having seen little use on his journey, and he deemed that the blacksmith who forged it would not have it remain sheathed. Therefore, he took up with folk of valour and courage and vowed to do what he could to rid Middle-earth of this Shadow, so that the Free Peoples could live again in peace and safety.
His road to Bree was long, but his road from Bree was longer still. Few amongst his own people could claim to be as well-travelled as Herebrand became. His path led hither and thither over many long leagues, into many strange lands and many dangers. He earned through his skill and bravery the friendship of many of the Free Peoples - Elves, Dwarves and Hobbits alike, even some who are counted amongst the Great. He conversed with legends, kept great secrets from unworthy ears, and faced nightmares in the mountains and under the earth. He did not seek glory for himself, but fought ever in the hope that the Shadow would be vanquished and Middle-earth would see peace again.
Hardy did Herebrand become, after many long months and years travelling in the wild. Though he thought often that he was doomed to face evil alone, as it seemed, he also found friends on his long road, and it was thus how he came to find his kinship of like-minded folk in Bree. After a chance-meeting with one Faral Garriden in the Prancing Pony, he became known to, and later member of Garriden's disparate group of adventurers, such as it was in the Bree-land at that time. Friendships were forged and oaths sworn, such as with Cuarlang the woodwright and Lady Vendla his wife.
Most unlikely of all, perhaps, was that friendship he found with the Hobbits of that strange alliance. Herebrand learned much of that secretive folk and delighted in their company when their paths crossed. It is said that even the most learned sages in Rohan knew only distant legends concerning them, whom the Rohirrim themselves called the Holbytlan. Strange indeed was the chance that took Herebrand from the Riddermark on the long and ancient road to the North, but it was a chance that changed the course of his life.
Herebrand, a man of Rohan, was unlike his countrymen. As well as being skilled with a sword, as the Rohirrim were wont to be in those days, he was also enamoured with the smithing of metals, chiefly to make armour, and also displayed an unusual interest in the lands outside the borders of his own country. Old maps he would often consult; ever he would seek for news of distant lands, and would ride far afield to hear it, and his eyes were more often than not drawn to the empty and little-known lands beyond the river Adorn (which forms the wild western border of Rohan).
He had heard in his youth tales of the ancient land of Arnor, the sad fate that befell that realm, and where dwelt still, it was rumoured, the descendants of the Kings of Men. A great desire grew in his heart to see these lands with his own eyes, and walk, if he might, in the footsteps of those Men who could count the Kings of old as their kin. He took it upon himself to begin a great journey, wherefore he might one day come to places that few of the Rohirrim had seen.
He forded with difficulty the river Gwathló, which Men call the Greyflood, and rode North along the old Royal Road which was built by the Numenoreans in ages past. He rode with care through many empty lands and knew not what had caused them to be silent, yet he knew in his heart not to dwell, and pressed on.
He found, after many days journeying, the village of Bree, and decided to remain to learn what he could of the Bree-land and the lands around it, where folk spoke of the mysterious Rangers who did not rest. All that he heard was overshadowed by the encroaching darkness that had again returned to Middle-earth, and he saw how the fate of his own country was bound to the greater fate of the world at large.
His sword was sharp, having seen little use on his journey, and he deemed that the blacksmith who forged it would not have it remain sheathed. Therefore, he took up with folk of valour and courage and vowed to do what he could to rid Middle-earth of this Shadow, so that the Free Peoples could live again in peace and safety.
His road to Bree was long, but his road from Bree was longer still. Few amongst his own people could claim to be as well-travelled as Herebrand became. His path led hither and thither over many long leagues, into many strange lands and many dangers. He earned through his skill and bravery the friendship of many of the Free Peoples - Elves, Dwarves and Hobbits alike, even some who are counted amongst the Great. He conversed with legends, kept great secrets from unworthy ears, and faced nightmares in the mountains and under the earth. He did not seek glory for himself, but fought ever in the hope that the Shadow would be vanquished and Middle-earth would see peace again.
Hardy did Herebrand become, after many long months and years travelling in the wild. Though he thought often that he was doomed to face evil alone, as it seemed, he also found friends on his long road, and it was thus how he came to find his kinship of like-minded folk in Bree. After a chance-meeting with one Faral Garriden in the Prancing Pony, he became known to, and later member of Garriden's disparate group of adventurers, such as it was in the Bree-land at that time. Friendships were forged and oaths sworn, such as with Cuarlang the woodwright and Lady Vendla his wife.
Most unlikely of all, perhaps, was that friendship he found with the Hobbits of that strange alliance. Herebrand learned much of that secretive folk and delighted in their company when their paths crossed. It is said that even the most learned sages in Rohan knew only distant legends concerning them, whom the Rohirrim themselves called the Holbytlan. Strange indeed was the chance that took Herebrand from the Riddermark on the long and ancient road to the North, but it was a chance that changed the course of his life.