Middle Earth Ranger Forum

With things a bit quiet on the forums of late and me still waiting on fabric I ordered months ago I thought I may unfold a bit of persona backstory. It still requires some polish so I will post it in sections as I go.

All comments and criticism welcome (and encouraged!)

Part 1 - https://drive.google.com/file/d/1g8xvrz ... sp=sharing
Part 2 - https://drive.google.com/file/d/1xDfvXA ... sp=sharing
Part 3- https://drive.google.com/file/d/12gszcO ... sp=sharing
Part 4 - https://drive.google.com/file/d/1hndClc ... sp=sharing
Part 5 - https://drive.google.com/file/d/1Q2PveK ... sp=sharing
Part 6 - https://drive.google.com/file/d/1PNVrpn ... sp=sharing
Part 7 - https://drive.google.com/file/d/18R_EKa ... sp=sharing
Part 8 - https://drive.google.com/file/d/1ZcHGdw ... sp=sharing
Epilogue - https://drive.google.com/file/d/14U0Rzk ... sp=sharing

The old man waited patiently under the glare of the warrior at the table, he held up stoically and neither shuffled or twitched. He had been warned about this one and subconsciously ran through the list in his head, the fellow was clearly proud, loud and boisterous but he saw no sign of the generous nor of the ‘Can be a bit slow at times’ that the inn-keep had mentioned. From his appearance he was more than a little vain. His clothes were flamboyant and of fine weave. He wore his wealth openly which showed he was either a fool or that he feared no trouble on the roads.

The warrior grew impatient under the scrutiny and finally answered, My story? and what precisely do you want to do with 'my story'?

The old man slid effortlessly into a chair opposite the warrior, waved a hand at the keep and before Eofor realised what was happening he received a fresh tankard and the old man had produced a sheaf of paper, ink pot and quill.
Well, the old man said, Fineas is my name and I record stories for my book. 'A Lifetime of Travel'

Never heard of it Eofor grumbled as he packed his pipe. Why would you want my story anyway?

Are you not Eofor? Eofor of the Black Tusk?

So they call me.

Then I ask you, if I do not tell your tale who will? You are a long way from home my Lord.

Eofor sighed, There is a saga you know.

Ahhh yes but is that really your story? I know the fight at Framsburg took place and the Burning of the East bight is well known but some other parts of it seem…

What?

Well if I’m being honest Lord they seem embellished.

I’ve known plenty of poets and bards and every one of them traded in fiction, so tell me how are you any different?

I will record your words lord, every single word and add none of my own.

Now it was Eofors turn to study the scribe and he did so for long minutes before grunting and lighting his pipe

My words?
Yes Lord.
Every one?
Yes Lord.

With another sigh Eofor began

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Recording - https://drive.google.com/file/d/1g8xvrz ... sp=sharing

Very excited to see where this goes!

Really cool!

Ooh, I'm liking this a lot! Always a treat when a new thread pops up on this board

Keep it coming!

Thank you for the kind words! I have realised that I wrote this to be read aloud. So I have attempted something a little different and recorded it, my mic is not the best but I ran this past some people and they said it was good so here it is if you would prefer to sit back, close your eyes and listen to the tale.
Let me know if you think it works, I am happy to add it with the following sections.

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I am Eofor son of Leofric, Helmingas and proud retainer to King Thengel though it is many years since I took my oath in the great hall at Edoras.

Understand old man that it is not often that I speak of my family for it pains me to do so but you should know that I can trace my line through distant trees to the Hammerhand himself. I say this not from vanity but so you understand the duty demanded by such ancestors and if you understand that then perhaps the story of my exile will make more sense to one not of my country.

I was born the year 2941 in the small town of Heáhstede which in the common tongue men call High-Steading. It lies in the foothills of the Thrihyrne above the Fords of Isen near to the fortress of Helms Deep. My father was a Thegn in high standing with the second Marshal and he was a renowned chieftan, generous to his people and fierce to his foes. My mothers family was less noble but perhaps more fair for she came from Gondor. But I have learnt that a title counts for little away from one's own land and for most of my life I have been called Eofor of the Black Tusk.

My early life was what you would expect for a boy of Rohan. Alongside my older brother Aldwyn I learnt to ride, practiced sword play and played games like any other child of the Mark. I loved the kitchen and was forever sneaking off to listen to the tales of my mother and the cooks until my father caught wind of it and ordered that I stop.

It was in my twelfth year that King Fengel died and his son Thengel took the crown. It was in that same year, that I was given my first real horse. A magnificent creature that I named Ablícan after the way her white coat shone as bright as the sun on new snow. I remember how proud I was to ride with the warriors of the Westfold to the oath taking at Edoras where I swore my oath of fealty to the new King.

Life continued, I grew broader and stronger, and two years later I fought my first battle, a foray against the hillmen raiding our cattle across the Isen. Looking back it wasn’t a real battle, just a skirmish. The Dunlendings have ever hated us but though they fight with ferocity these men were poorly armed and it was over before I even struck a blow.

Ahhh but the joy of the sword song had kindled in me! From that day on I thought only of battle, taking any opportunity to ride with the patrols. Of course my mother fretted but when I look back I suspect that my father only ever allowed me to take part in the safe excursions. There was sometimes fighting, but never did we face Orcs or other fell beasts.


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Recording - https://drive.google.com/file/d/1xDfvXA ... sp=sharing

Awesome!

Woohoo! That was awesome! Definitely keep going with the audio! It added such a depth to the story!

The audio is terrific!

Again I thank you for the kind words, I have section three here and have gone back and recorded the first section for those of you who want to hear the squeaky (much like my own) voice of Fineas.
I will put a link to each of the audio files in the original post.

That all changed in my fifteenth year, when the Troll came. Of course we didn't know it was a troll at first, just that reports started coming in from our Northern borders of steadings abandoned and empty, and my father's thought was that the Goblin wolf riders were somehow evading our sentries and taking slaves.

A few weeks later though after the hamlet of Dwimmerstan was struck we knew it was no goblin raid. It was two days after the attack when my Fathers band came to the town and hearing a pitiful cry from the well dragged a ragged dirty child from the rubble. He was inconsolable but through his sobs he told a tale of horror and blood, of a huge troll as big as a house that had done great slaughter in the town.

"H...h...he couldn't get me down in the well sire, h… h...his hand was too big to to to fit through the stones… But then I had to sit there and listen" and his eyes grew wide with the horror of it "listen as he…. he feasted"

Men murmured and my father grew grim, he ordered his men to care for the boy and give him food and drink. I could tell he was worried but the tracks were inconclusive and his advisors were sure the boy's fear must had led him to exaggeration.
Still the attacks continued and the whole of the Westfold lived under a cloud of fear. I was forbidden from riding on patrol but it didn’t matter as they never saw a sign of the fiend. It would always attack at night when horses cannot gallop even under a full moon.

My father consulted with his counsellors and wise experienced men for ways to defeat the Black Shadow but time and time again the beast escaped their traps. Father grew more and more frustrated and angry, at night the troll haunted his dreams and the villagers questioning eyes followed him during the day. He was the shield and protector of his people and he was failing. A leader who cannot protect his people is no leader and he knew it.

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Recording - https://drive.google.com/file/d/12gszcO ... sp=sharing

Stellar!

Great story!

Eofor paused at this point and Fineas stopped his scratching. He guessed that the next part of the story would be hard on it’s teller, that he was summoning up the courage to tell it.
Slowly in his own time, after starting long minutes into the glowing embers of the fire Eofor started up again.

Then one evening, about an hour after dusk a farmer rode into Heáhstede begging an audience with my father. He had ridden hard on the wings of a storm with tidings.
"Lord" he stammered as the rain started "I was heading out to check on my lambs what with this storm and all" My father looked impatient and the man stammered on "Well I saw it Milord, I saw the Shadow heading toward Hunigham!"
A horn blew, men streamed to horse and I ran to join them but my father shouted at me to get back in the house. I argued I was a warrior, I would ride with the warband! But they were right and I was a fool. Aldwyn gave me a cuff and told me to do as father said so I just stood in the rain as the horses of the warband thundered past me.

I couldn’t tell you how long I stood there in the rain, pride and shame warring within me but something snapped and I ran towards the stables. My mother screamed at me to stop but Ablícan was waiting and I leapt into the saddle and spurred out of the gate.
It was an evil storm that swept that night, up out of the southeast. The rain was like hammer blows but I knew the way to Hunigham well enough that the occasional flash of lightning was just enough to keep me on the path. The first sign I saw of the Warband was the horses tethered just out of town. The men had proceeded on foot, a trained horse will not shy from a troll in full gallop on the plain but in a dark village during a thunderstorm they would have been a liability.

Eofor broke from his narrative here and addressed Fineas directly

Understand scribe that I say many things in hindsight, in the experience gained from a lifetime of fighting trolls. I knew them not at the time, all I knew was that I was a warrior and my duty was to defend my people, to stand with my father and brother against the monster.

I have spent years reliving that night and heaping blame on myself but looking back I don't think my presence changed anything that night. The roads of fate leading us all to Hunigham had been long woven.

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Recording - https://drive.google.com/file/d/1hndClc ... sp=sharing