[piosenniel]

CARRY-ALONG CHARACTERS


Carry-along character – Undómë

NAME: Rædwald (the aging lancer)

AGE: 42

RACE: Man of Bregoware

GENDER: male

WEAPONS: long, plain oak, iron tipped lance; plain iron short sword; iron helm, boiled leather vest beneath a short, sleeveless chain-mail shirt. Other items of armor have been melted down by him at one time or another for farm implements and repairs.

APPEARANCE: Ash blond hair, streaked with white. Thick white mustache with close trimmed beard, also much streaked with white. Faded blue eyes. Skin wrinkled and roughened from many years spent in the sun moving his herds about. Ordinary homespun clothing, leather breeches, thick, tight woven, hooded brown cape. Scuffed and worn mid-calf boots.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Cautious, soft spoken, Good at sizing up problems and paring them down to their essentials. He’s not as quick physically as he was when he was younger. He likes to think this isn’t so and continues to act as if his reflexes were as acute as if he were in his twenties.

HISTORY: The youngest son in his family, Rædwald never married. He figured his father’s resources would be stretched far enough for his older brothers and his sister’s dowry.

At the age of seventeen he left home with the blessings of his father to serve in the ranks of the Riders for one of the more important Lords along the Rohan borderlands. He served for eleven years, coming back to Bregoware at the news of his father’s death to help with the homestead and the family flocks.

From his service to the Lord he had managed to save a small pouch of coins with which he bought a trio of nanny goats and one billy. He has since increased his herd to about fifteen head. He lives in a small hut he built on the outskirts of his father’s (now Rædwald’s oldest brother’s) land and spends all of his days with his little herd.

His hut borders on Leof’s land. He and Meghan and Leof have often aided each other with the goat birthings or the doctoring of various ailments of their animals. They have also cross mated their flocks to make for stronger, healthier goats. Rædwald is fond of Meghan, thinking of her as almost a niece of his own. She and he are close friends and respect each other for their knowledge and love of their flock.

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Rædwald

Undómë's post

(I'll put this up after the group leaves the village. He'll follow after them and meet with them when they make camp)

It was late morning, the four riders would already be well on their way from the village. Meghan’s brother, Leof, had come earlier in the morning to ask a favor of Rædwald. Since Leof had his family and his mother to look after, would Rædwald follow after Meghan and keep an eye on her for him. After a short consideration, the older man had said he would do this, for a promise from the younger man. And so they met for one last word together before Rædwald left.

‘Now, Leof,’ Rædwald said, motioning for Meghan’s brother to follow after him. ‘I’ve milked the nannies and penned them in with hay in the rick. The two billys are in there, too. And I’ve given them all a measure of oats.’ He pointed to the small pen where his little flock now stood jostling each other for positions near the fence, vying for his attentions. ‘Now over there,’ he went on, pointing toward the little shed that served as his barn. ‘There under the tarps is the hay you can take with your own. Some of it’s loose; got most of it tied into sheaves. And in my hut are three oaken barrels of oats. Take them, too.’

He reached down and gave his oldest nanny a scratch between her ears. ‘I’ll see you in a couple turns of the moon, old girl.’ His hand came up to the back of his neck and he rubbed it slowly. ‘Now you remember, Leof, what I told you.’ He raised his hand to cut off Leof’s protest. ‘Nay, I mean it. You must make that promise to me, or I cannot take this task on for you.’

Rædwald saw Meghan’s brother to the edge of his little holding. The man had made his promise, and Rædwald knew his goats would be safe, whether or not he made it back to them. He pushed what clothes he thought he’d need in his old leather pack; rolled up a bedroll; stuffed some dried fruits and meats into leather packets, and filled several skins with water from the well.

He got down on his hands and knees and looked beneath his single bed. It was dark, and he got back up to fetch a candle stub. There they were – his helm, crusted with dirt and some straw where it looked as if a mouse had nested in it; his mail shirt, a bit rusted here and there; the thick leather vest that went beneath it, nibbled on, he noted. And there, rolled up against the wall his oaken lance, the tip of it having fallen victim to the same rust as had his shirt.

Rædwald gave them all a cursory cleaning, then stuffed the helm, vest, and mail shirt into a canvas sack. He secured everything to his dun mare. Giving his little holding one last look about, he mounted up and moved at a tempered pace out of the village. If they met no problems along the way this day, then he would come upon them in the evening as they camped.