Forogil Breadwick was born in early November on a farmhouse in Breeland as the youngest of three sons of Ian Breadwick and his wife, Selden. His father was a bearded man of brown hair and wide stature – characteristics his other two sons, Colter and Will, inherited from him. His youngest was unlike his brothers, inheriting the lean build, grey eyes and dark hair of his mother. It was also at her request that he had been named Forogil, after her grandfather, of which he reminded her so. His father was not very fond of such a foreign name, choosing to rather call him ‘Breadwick Junior’ or ‘Junior’, as did his brothers. Only his mother would call him by his first name.

And so Forogil, now mostly answering to Breadwick, spent the first 16 years of his life helping his family tend the estate. He grew tired of the tedium often, however, and would at times run off to explore the surrounding woods and old ruins, returning days later. On his wanders, he often met random travellers, one of them being Jett – an old hunter who would quickly befriend Breadwick and take him under his wing. Whenever they had the time, he would teach his new apprentice how to hunt, track prey and move through the forest in a more efficient manner.  Jett saw the potential in the young hunter and when Breadwick reached 16 years of age, Jett gifted him with a bow of his own and asked him to join him and his party of huntsmen in Chetwood. And so, Breadwick said goodbye to his family and the life of a farmer and headed towards a new chapter in his life.

Over the years, Breadwick would become more and more proficient as a hunter, becoming a valued member of the group. But he would nevertheless often sit at the edges of Chetwood, looking over the marshlands of Midgewater and distant peaks of Lone-lands with an undying sense of wanderlust. While he enjoyed his new life, he knew he wanted more. And so, after 8 years, he said his goodbyes to his friends in Chetwood and headed off to wander the world, just like he had always wanted.

He passed through the Shire, where he would pick up the habit of smoking pipeweed, before heading north to the shores of Evendim. He was fascinated by the old ruins and history of the region and through his help, he had befriended many of the local Rangers of Annúminas. He then decided to venture east, through the vast plains of Lone-lands before reaching the Trollshaws.

The vast forests teeming with life enchanted Breadwick, and he would wander them for many weeks, living off the land and exploring the many ruins hidden in the trees. So much would he wander, he ended up getting lost; and worse yet, as he realized, he was also being hunted. Unable to rest and on the run, he grew more tired each day of the chase. Until one night, a large bear charged him from the dark. Though his arrows were fast and true, the beast had managed to grievously injure Breadwick before stumbling off and succumbing to its injuries. Lying bleeding and dying alongside his attacker; that’s how an elven party from Rivendell, out on the hunt for the very same bear, would find Breadwick.

Deciding to save the man’s life, they would bring him with them back to Rivendell. He slept for many days before waking up. And quite the waking it was; though he had heard of the elves, he never actually met one before; their grace and beauty of all that surrounded him felt almost unnatural. He felt to be a plight on the serenity of the place he now found himself in, thinking that surely, his presence was an unwelcome one. But his worries faded as fast as they arose, as the friendly demeanour and kind nature of his hosts reassured him of their good intentions. With wide smiles, the elves would thank him for slaying the beast in their stead, though he was not certain if they were saying so in jest. For many weeks, Breadwick would slowly heal from his injuries which would’ve been fatal if not for the elves’ mercy.

He wandered the Rivendell valley, conversing with the elves, curiously inquiring about their lives and admiring their craft. As he grew stronger, he’d offer help carrying boxes and chopping wood, whatever his wounded body allowed him to. And when he grew strong enough, he’d join them on hunts. Throughout his time alongside the elves of Imlardis, he would gain deep love and appreciation for their folk and their ways. And through his deeds, the elves would in turn begin to see him as a welcome guest; perhaps even a friend.

After months spent alongside his newfound allies, he had decided the time had once again come to explore the wider world. And so, with goodbyes and promise of his return, he left the Rivendell valley for Eregion and lands beyond.