View Single Post
Old 12-18-2003, 08:22 PM   #14
Mithadan
Spirit of Mist
 
Join Date: Jul 2000
Location: Tol Eressea
Posts: 3,310
Mithadan is a guest at the Prancing Pony.Mithadan is a guest at the Prancing Pony.
Sting

Welcome Hilde! We look forward to reading your character profile.

Backstory - Baran (Mithadan):

Baran was a Beorning. He grew up in the northern vales of the Anduin near the fabled Carrock. At the time of this tale, he was 30 years of age, though some among his people might have argued that he acted like a lad of ten summers.

Baran was large, a full two meters tall and a bit more, but he was broad shouldered, heavy boned and well-muscled. His hair, was long and tied in a single plait reaching halfway down his back, and was brown as the leaves of an oak tree in the fall. The length of his hair in back was nearly matched by his long and curling beard in front. He wore rough but comfortable clothing of earthy colors and his boots were of some sturdy padded cloth. He often went abroad with a staff, and like many of his people carried also a stout-bladed knife but no other weapons.

When Baran was but five years of age, his father was slain in battle with Orcs from Dol Guldor. Thereafter he was raised by his mother, Borwë and his grandmother, an elderly woman who was nonetheless wise beyond her years. Most among the Beornings cared little of history unless it involved tales of battles, but Baran's grandmother was steeped in the lore of her people and it was from her that he learned of the Beornings' great journey eastward when they fled the ancient shadow and their parting from their kin, the Maenwaith, the "skilled ones" who could take many shapes.

Baran himself learned the shape of the great brown bear early in his youth. However, he could not understand why the Beornings could take but one form when their kin could take many. His grandmother would grin when he asked of this and merely respond, "That is why they are called the Skilled." Indeed, the Maenwaith had been but a fable to the Beornings. None had been seen in many lives of Men. But just five years before Baran was born, a young girl, little more than a toddler, had been brought to the Carrock by strangers who had come up the Anduin, apparently on foot. They left the child there and, the tale went, shifted into birds that winged away towards the south.

This child, ever after known as Bird, could not become the Bear. But at a young age, she had been cornered alone in the forest by wolves and had escaped even as her friends came up by changing into a black bird. Thereafter many thought her odd, though they treated her kindly. Baran was fascinated by her and spoke with Bird when he could. But when he was but nine years old, she left the Carrock and went off towards the west to seek her fortune and her people.

Baran devoured all the stories of the Maenwaith that his grandmother knew and listened to the tales told by others as well. The legend that one day the darkness would lift and the Beornings would be free to travel westward was well known among his people. Less well known was a tale whispered among the most ancient of the elders, that they would then be reunited with the Maenwaith. And when Baran heard that story he asked if he would then learn new shapes. The elders laughed. "You are a Beorning!" they chided him. "Your shape is the Bear and no other." Yet Baran dreamed of flying as a bird or swimming as a fish.

He was only thirteen when the War of the Ring was fought, but nonetheless joined his people in defending their lodges and homes. He slew his first Orc then, avenging his father, and many more besides. Then the Orcs retreated and soon came the strange tale that the Dark Lord had been defeated by a Hobbit, even one like Bilbo the Great of whom many tales were told. And indeed it seemed that the darkness had lifted. Dwarves, Elves and Men no longer feared to travel and the Beornings grew rich in trade. Some few among the Beornings whispered that they too could travel but they were laughed at by most, for the Carrock was their home.

Baran left his people for the first time at age twenty. He journeyed to the Lonely Mountain where he heard the tale of Frodo and the Ring from no lesser person than Gimli himself. He heard also of the great king of Men, Elessar of Gondor and of how the roads were becoming safer with each passing year. When he returned to his people, his grandmother had fallen ill, and though he stayed with her day and night she faded as all Men must. But before she died, she bade him remember the tales and pass them on to others. But she also said that he should not fear to make tales, not just of words but by deeds.

He stayed among his people for three more years, then one spring he left and travelled west. He at least would follow the legend and maybe even find the Maenwaith. And maybe someday he would fly back to the Carrock to tell his people tales of his own...

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 5:59 PM December 22, 2003: Message edited by: Mithadan ]
__________________
Beleriand, Beleriand,
the borders of the Elven-land.
Mithadan is offline