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Old 03-27-2008, 04:01 PM   #35
Nogrod
Flame of the Ainulindalë
 
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NAME: Stigend, husband of Modtryth, father of Cnebba

AGE/GENDER/RACE/WHERE FROM: 30, male, Eorling from Westfold

APPEARANCE: Normal height, of light construction but muscular because of the hard physical trade he has. Bright yellow straight hair and blue eyes. Not the handsome guy girls fall in love with but his eyes do twinkle.

BITS OF CHARACTER/HISTORY YOU FEEL MIGHT BE HELPFUL IN DEFINING THE CHARACTER: Even with the disagreements he loves his wife and has been forced to defend her honour quite a many times. His son means a world to him. He's a bit overprotective as regards to him even if he wishes him to be a soldier or a carpenter in the end. Stigend is a hearty man and always ready to laugh even if he's more silent and observational in the company of strangers or those ranking above him. He's a dutiful and honest man clearly knowing his place in the world is not among the noteworthy.

Quote:
Originally Posted by Nogrod

They had come to Edoras because of the horse fair. There was always work for carpenters in fairs like this. Stigend had soon been enlisted to the workforce and had been building different stages, fencings, pens and the like for three long and laborous days with all the other hired hands. His wife Modtryth had made it to the workforce too – despite her outlook - preparing the canopies and serving as a general maid preparing food, taking care of the children and so on. Their 8-year old boy Cnebba had had the time of his life with so many other children around, running amok as their hired-hand parents had too much work to do to watch after them.

So Stigend was a carpenter, son of a carpenter. That’s the way it goes. Though he had rebelled against his family and the afore-laid career already in youth, enlisting to the local Men-of-Arms at the age of 16. But he never got used to the discipline of an armed militia or the hierarchical system involved. So he had returned and taken willfully to adopting his father’s trade. His second and the more serious rebel against his family concerned his marriage with Modtryth. “There will be no Dunleding blood in our family! Not a half-Dunleding, not fourth, not eighth, not any! You just realize that! And behave like a decent Rohanian! There are fine ladies to marry out there, and you come up with this Dunleding-monster!”, his father had bellowed to him, as he had told about his intentions to engage with Modtryth, a half-Dunleding.

They had tried to live in peace in their community as an odd pair for several years, raising their firstborn and getting some income from temporary carpentery and maiding. But it had been hard, sometimes unbearable because of the insults and the general scorn, not to mention the actual offences. When Modtryth’s mother accidentally died, they lost their last actual tie to the village they lived in and decided to hit the road. After that they had wandered around the countryside, taking a temporary post here and there. That kind of life had now lasted almost four years to date.

After the horse fair was over, and the workers were pulling down the constructions of the fair, Stigend was approached by one of the fair’s organizers, a man called Rumstan. His friend, a somewhat renowned Sir Byrthold needed a few handy carpenters to build an extention to his house as his stature was climbing up. Stigend was happy to have been picked from the lot, but also weary of having to serve yet another Lord or Sir or something. There was use for the money, but these “better people” just gave him the shivers. They were the ones who didn’t accept other kind of people and who despised ones like his son and wife. To his eyes, they seemed all to think that only strawhaired and blue-eyed people were humans to begin with. And only his sons piercing dark-brown eyes had led to contempt so many times already on different places they had lived in. Anyway, he accepted the offer because of the money involved – these “Sirs” could afford a nice pay if the work was well done.

By the time Stigend was working at Byrthold’s house, both he and Modtryth heard about the local Mead Hall being under renovation. “Think about it. That, if something, would be our chance to get a place - a good place actually - to stay and work in.”, Modtryth had remarked to him the day she had heard of the renovation. She had given him a sharp look and added: "For a bit longer while this time, maybe. You should really try to apply there."

“Those are those fancy folks living in a Mead Hall. You know them! I don’t think they will look at us too kindly there either. Remeber that Dunleding incident at the fair? What would they think of you, or Cnebba? You know the ways of these better people...”. Stigend hadn’t exactly tried to hide the poignancy of his words.

His wife had looked at him and raised an eyebrow. "Nevertheless you should try to apply. You know I've managed with those lordly swines all my life. Funny, one could imagine you were the one with a Dunlending background" she had commented. As Stigend had opened his mouth to say something, she had continued: "As to Cnebba... You can't protect him from despise all his life. He has to learn to deal with it, as I have learned. And besides, not all rohirrim are like that. I believe they will treat our little darling well. If they don't, well, we'll deal with it... This is our chance. It is unlikely that we get another as good an opportunity very soon"

“But why not to try somewhere out of the sight of these pompous lords? Edoras is swarming with them! We should try and find a community to live in – not once again hiring ourselves to some lord who doesn’t care about us as humans but only as work provided!”, he tried to argue his wife for his case not to apply to the Mead Hall.

And this way they had gone to and fro with the discussion or argument, it depends on how you look at it. In the end Modtryth had gotten her will. She had managed also to force Stigend asking lord Byrthold for a letter of recommendation for him.

Sir Byrthold was a busy man and seemed somewhat annoyed by Stigend’s request for an audience. But then again, he had been happy with the effectiveness of these three carpenters his friend Rumstan had hired him, and the quality of the work had delighted him. So he allowed Stigend in. “A recommendation? What for, may I ask?” he had asked wryly from a bit trembling Stigend as he had come forwards with his cause. “For the Mead Hall you say... So you would like to work there?” Surely lord Eodwine had grown in stature, and it could be counted on Byrthold’s credit if he would in this way help Eodwine to get good workers enlisted. But Byrthold had also heard rumours about this man’s wife and child. Well, Eodwine is one of those stranger-lovers, he might even appreciate this. And if some of my friends come asking about my recommendation, I could always say, that I gave it to this decent Rohanian chap only – maybe I didn’t even know about his wife and the child..., Byrthold thought to himself and happily made his signature to a paper that was then to be filled by his clerk.

That evening Stigend and Modtryth embraced each other warmly the first time for a long time. Not that they were not getting along together, but there just hadn’t been that spark about them for a long time. Now everything looked somewhat promising. Although all was still open and Stigend had his doubts – as always. The next day could decide very much of their future.

But there is that court tomorrow... Will that high lord have time for our kind of people at all? I hope Modtryth is right in her hunch that this lord Eodwine is better than most of these lords and sirs. With these thoughts Stigend closed his eyes and immediately fell asleep. --- from Eorling Mead Hall/Post 321
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Please Pio could you also add a link to my post #321 in the Eorling Mead Hall where I kind of recite all of the history of these three (my first post to the EMH) after this CHARACTER/HISTORY stuff of Stigend? Just if anyone's interested. I sadly haven't yet learned how to "clip" just one post to link it...

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EDIT: Linked ~*~ Pio
__________________
Upon the hearth the fire is red
Beneath the roof there is a bed;
But not yet weary are our feet...

Last edited by piosenniel; 03-27-2008 at 08:36 PM.
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