About Brenorn's training along with the Grey Wolves, and how he became a warrior.
"The Grey Wolves. My life took such a good turn the day I joined them, that I sometimes woke up anxiously in the middle of the night, fearing it would have been just a sweet, sweet dream. As I had already written, Gareth took care of my training personally since the very day I joined them. Harsh exercise routines, drills and unforgiving sword-slinging lessons. He was patient to teach me the basics, but once I learned which end the sword was held at, he would make sure I paid for - and learned from - every single mistake I made.
Did he expect me to lose interest, scare me off? Or did he plan to catch my attention and make me do my best? Whatever the case was, I would shrug off every cut and bruise, and always come back for more training. Sometimes I would even drag Gareth away from his bedroll half-awake for an early lesson, or willingly provoke him during sparring to make him not hold back. Nowadays I realize, it's just the fact I had nothing else to worry about or put my dedication on in my life, that I made it a personal challenge to become the best swordsman ever to live.
Time passed, and my skill did nothing but increase with every training lesson. I eventually joined more boys and girls in their instruction, which would lead me to meet the best friend I've ever made: Illias Hazeltree. Bandits had ransacked this poor boy's hometown, a small village in Bree-land - that familiar place I know as Archet today. Horrible things were done to his parents right in front of him before they were executed, and the brigands were hoping to sell him off as a slave, fate from which the Wolves saved him as they passed through Gondor. The debt of gratitude and the chance at building a new life from scratch was all this tall, strong child needed to overcome his pain, and was one of the best trainees the Grey Wolves had ever seen... right behind myself, of course. We got along great almost instantly, and made one of the best teams one could ever see - Illias was much stronger and scarier than me, but I must admit I had a sharper mind. Gareth seemed to be so proud of both of us, saying that 'We represented everything a Grey Wolf should stand for: honor, strength and bravery, all while in a good sense of humor'. (Brenorn's handwriting seems to shake a bit on the last few words, noting he may have actually chuckled while writing it)
Time passed indeed. About four years and a half we had been training, honing my skill both by myself, and planning joint-battle tactics with my good friend Illias. I put my focus on fighting with a weapon in each hand, a style that required much finesse and coordination, and Gareth was actually surprised I could copy his movements almost naturally. Illias did nothing but grow even bigger and stronger with years, and he was a fearsome sight with a two-handed sword in his hands, yet surprisingly agile for a man of his stature. We were about thirteen year olds when we were given one of the greatest honors of the company, which I understood as a way to get us to train and get used to the added weight: getting to wear the characteristic chainmail and furs of the mercenaries. Illias and I were the first to make it for years in the company, and I felt so happy and proud... probably wouldn't have if I knew the trance I was about to go through.
One day, which seemed like any other, Gareth walked past Illias and I with a grim face. This was very, very alarming indeed, for very few things would make this man not spare a smile or clever joke. Something was wrong, very, very wrong. We followed him waiting for no other word, hurrying behind him and listening as he spoke to the few men left in the ruins, as most had left us for an assignment. Erin, one of the orphan girls living with us, just a couple years older than Illias and myself, was missing. The girls would usually go out to the vicinity of the ruins to pick up fruits, herbs... or head for Anórien to buy supplies if they were old enough for it. Night was starting to fall, and she had been gone for a good few hours already. Gareth sent the men to search the forests incase she had got lost or attacked, then turned to Illias and myself. He told Illias to stand watch on the main road, while I was to travel to Anórien myself and look for her. My first assignment! I was so excited, and so nervous too, for I had not set foot in Anórien ever since I had left.
Everyone got moving to cover their assigned territory, and I arrived at Anórien when night was almost upon us. I searched around the market, and some of the back alleys, calling Erin's name and asking some of the locals. Night had already closed on us, when I heard some rough laughing and screaming, apparently struggling, in one of the back streets. I saw Erin running into one of the alleys - a dead end - with five rude looking men running after her. By the looks of it, she had been trying to hide from and avoid them for hours, but had finally been caught by them. Rage began to boil within my body. The wild wolf living within each of us, Gareth had called it more than once, yet I didn't understand. I could now. I saw it, clear as water, feeling it inside my chest. I walked slowly to the alley, where the men were starting to rip Erin's dress, apparently not noticing the wolf cub that had just stepped into the scene. Waiting for no further provocation, I drew both the swords hanging from my belt, and ran them through two of the men's backs, which made the other three look back at me. Erin took quick advantage of the distraction, running around them to the way out, and looked at me with a terrified look. 'Get out of here, Erin', my own voice sounded strange to myself, as she just nodded and walked away, frightened and shaken up. The next few moments I only remember as a few crimson shades, a dervish-like blade dance like I had trained so many times before between the three men. One of them got their throat slit by a quick slash, after which I quickly turned around to thrust both my swords on the other's guts. I let my guard down carelessly with that maneuver, which resulted on the remaining man almost splitting my skull with his light axe, which I thought I had barely avoided at the moment, almost being slashed over my right eye. I quickly followed with a furious slash that severed the man's hand, and a thrust to his groin with my other blade, leaving this one to a slow, painful death. I slowly walked back out, and still feel like part of me was lost forever in that alley today.
Erin was waiting for me there when I got out. She held a scream after she noticed me, blood dripping from my face as, I hadn't realized yet, but a long cut ran from above my brow to below my lips, being just lucky enough it hadn't caught my eye itself. Any of you who may have seen me in person will now know where my most noticeable scar comes from, and I must add I wear it with pride, since it is the badge of honor for standing up for those you love. We returned to the safety of our ruins, where my wounds were dressed as Erin told Gareth the tale. Shortly after that day, I was already one of them. One of the warriors of the pack."
- Brenorn Greymane
