Færeld a-fíndan Eard

Færeld a-fíndan Eard

(Journey to find home)

It was early morning, fastening the leather strap that secured the fading green blanket to the horse, Nihtwulf gave a grunt and patted the horse. He was thinking about the letter that had arrived for him in Bree, unexpectedly and quite to his surprise. It had been almost 5 years now since that late afternoon in Snowbourn, yet it seemed memory lingered still among some there.

With a small smile he next secured the saddle onto the back of the horse, making sure the saddle-straps would not hinder or gnaw into the hide of the horse, satisfied he next applied his attention to the bridle, it was a bit lighter than what he normally used, but fitted the blanket and saddle, it needed to, for his horse needed to clearly portray that here came one from the mark.

Content with his preparation he finally slung his meager belongings, packed in a few bags and rolled up neatly, over the back of the horse behind the saddle, again making sure they would not hinder the horse in its motions. Taking good care of his horse was not even something he gave much thought to, it was part of how every rider naturally tended the steed that would carry him into battle. Learned at an age where a sword or spear arm was not even yet fully grown.

Satisfied Nihtwulf gave a small grunt, then picked up the green cloak hanging off a fence nearby, he clasped it securely to his shoulders, and tugged at it a few times to make it sit perfectly, then reached under his mail into his tunic pocket and pulled out the folded parchment, reading once more the letter;

Rider, You do not remember me, but I remember you. I am Algar, advisor to the Reeve.

I was there when your spoke your mead oath to the nobles in the hall of the Reeve. Your words were harsh, but they rang true with the spirit of any who would be Rohirrim. I know you left for northern lands soon after, when the Reeve would not go against the wishes of the king.

Now I ask that you return.

The pride of the Rohirrim once again roams free, the king has called for all who are able to aid in the rebuilding and securing of the mark. I call upon you.

Seek me out once you get to Snowbourn.

Folding the parchment neatly, Nihtwulf tucked it back into the pocket and picked up his armaments and helmet. He donned the helmet then mounted the horse, and slowly led it out towards the square, he needed to procure some provisions ere takin the south road, perhaps he’d have to visit the vendors near the Boar Fountain in Bree, given that the locals were not yet up and the stalls lining the street out of the village were not yet open. Water he could always find in the wild, but food might be scarce, and he would prefer not to have to hunt for it every day.

It would be a long journey, home.

Memories (Aug. 1st 2018)

Forest Camp (Aug. 3rd 2018)

Goodbyes (Aug. 4th 2018)

Skirts and outskirts (Aug. 11th 2018)

Last of the settled lands, for now (Aug. 11th 2018)

Words (Aug. 13th 2018)

Broken Oath (Aug. 15th 2018)

Ruin camp (Aug. 17th 2018)

Duty of a guard (part 1) (Aug. 18th 2018)

Duty of a guard (part 2) (Aug. 22nd 2018)

Days spent in thought (Aug. 27th 2018)

The following two items were written back in 2012, they are the basis for the Chronicle, and the character, and provide a background to build upon.

Mead Oath (October 24th 2012)

A Worthy Home (October 22nd 2012)