Yllfa, daughter of Beornmund
She looks to be a mature woman, neither young nor old.
A house in Bancross hamlet.
Yllfa was born to Beornmund of Forlaw and Yrsa of Edoras, in her grandparent’s croft close to the capital.
She was one of twins, surviving while her brother died shortly after birth. Her name came from her tenacity in fighting to live. “We have a little she-wolf here. Long may she win her battles,” her mother had said.
She has no other siblings.
Her family were farmers, growing crops and keeping some small livestock, mostly chickens and ducks. Her maternal Grandfather, Cenulf, was from a more prosperous merchant family, though he earned their displeasure by forsaking their trade to become a Rider. As the third son the matter was not as serious as it may have been, though Cenulf was something of an outcast from then on despite the position he himself came to hold. Alas, after six years he was involved in a conflict which saw him lose a leg above the knee. Unable to ride well, or be any sort of soldier, he wed Lufa, a farmer’s daughter and healer. He was able to purchase a farm of their own to settle down in, rather than rent from a Landowner. Cenulf was quite an influence on Yllfa’s young life, delighting in teaching his granddaughter much of what he knew.
Yllfa was never taught to read or write though, as is the case with many of the Mark. She delighted in memorising and reciting stories to others, and came to have her own form of coding when she grew a little older. But that is another story.
In her fourteenth year, Beornmund received word of his own parent’s ailing health. There were also disruptive matters caused by Yllfa’s uncle wanting the land made over to him, instead of risking it going to the more favoured Beornmund and Yrsa upon Cenulf’s death.
With some sadness, Yllfa rode with her parents north, to her father’s old home. She found dwelling in the colder clime more to her liking than she had feared, helping out in the infirmary and learning the skills of a herbalist in earnest from Trewgifu, who also worked there.
One of the more difficult times in Yllfa’s life was to follow. Finding it harder than he hoped to make a living, Beornmund accepted a posting in Stangard. It was not the best of places to take a wife, and a daughter who was nearly full grown. The family’s stay was only to last some months, during which Yllfa was lost for a time. Upon her return, Beornmund gave up his position, seeking to return to a more stable life, that being on a rented farm near Harwick.
And there the family dwelt.
Yllfa worked the land alongside her parents. Although she would never consider herself a ‘proper’ healer, she watched ‘proper’ healers whenever she could. She made a study of herbs and leaves and all manner of plants that may be used to benefit others. Keeping more to herself and her study, she did not mix as much as most younger folk and never seemed overly bothered with finding a husband. There were a few dear friends, and she was always welcome to care for the younger children by them and their parents alike. She told the children her stories, spoke about what plants to avoid, and did a notable job in the braiding of hair.
Life was simple, but happy for a while. Then in her twentieth year her mother passed from a fever that affected near a third of the town. There was little time to grieve as all who could help were called into action. After that, Yllfa sought to work more in the infirmary when allowed.
There came a time when merchants from Edoras arrived, bringing with them a dappled filly foal. The foal was a final gift from her grandfather. Cenulf had died, the messenger said, and his son had taken over the farm. But the old man had wished the delight of his later days to have a horse with at least some noble blood. So it was that Yllfa gained Wynn, the last foal sired by Cenulf’s own warhorse.
((As she cannot write, anything here from Yllfa is a story told, or a collection of thoughts. While the actual stories are mostly in a chronological order, the thoughts (Interludes) are usually shorter and can be haphazard time-wise.))
Her father is her only living relative.
Wounds that will not heal, broken bones that will not set, fever and ague. A particular Dunlending.
Dishonesty, superstitions, unnecessary deaths or suffering. She doesn't trust Elves, not that she has seen many.
To live a true-hearted life, run her own small apothecary, and heal whatever hurts she may.
I do battle with the enemies of our people in my own way.
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