A little adventure (open)

[duilin]

Duilin always called it adventure, those trips she, her father Beran and her brother Daerol undertook every two or three months. She had been nine years old when their father had packed together all their things for the first time, some of their clothes, some food and water, and the weapons and other items forged out of metal, and had placed them all neatly onto a carriage. He had sat her beside himself on the carriage, letting eleven year old Daerol ride a horse separate from the carriage, and steered them away from their home, away from the little village and away from the river Snowborne. He had taken them on a small road, guided them past Edoras, where they only had stopped to refill their food and water stores, and had travelled further with them, along the mountain ridge, travelling from one small village to the next. To little Duilin, it had been a grand adventure, for the first time being away from her home. And that feeling had never changed. It always felt like a completely new adventure, each time Beran opened to them that they would go on another such business trip to sell his metal items.

This time, Beran had taken them to Edoras. They had put up a small green tent just inside of the city, next to the wooden city wall. And from their carriage, they would offer the people all the swords, daggers, arrowheads, nails, horseshoes, chains and whatever else Beran and Daerol had to offer. Their three horses grazed next to them. Duilin would keep a fire burning close to their tent, but not too close to let the fabric be burnt. Just close enough to keep them warm during the night, and to cook stews and soups on. At least twice a day, Duilin would take a walk with two buckets toward the nearest well to fetch them some water. Sometimes, she went thrice. She would buy vegetables from close farmers to cook their meals. She would fetch the horses some hay and would currycomb them. But, and this was what Duilin enjoyed most about their adventures, she would always have the opportunity to meet new people.

She was always one to make quick friendships. She greatly enjoyed talking to people, even to strangers, and let them in on her thoughts. She always was in search for some good, nice chat to keep her from doing what she actually set out to do.

Today, after having been already three or four days at Edoras, Duilin set out to fetch water. It was still early, and she thought it clever to be one of the first at the well. So, she carried her two wooden buckets and slowly strolled down the road toward the well without haste. She actually meandered from left to right, deep in thought, a melody on her mind.

[ULF ASGRIM]

The beginning of June meant the beginning of summer. You could see it on the way people were dressed and what they ate. Thick shirts and woollen scarves have already been put into the lowest drawers and light linen tunics have been found. Warm tea and herbs were no longer anywhere to be seen and instead there was cold mead and fruit juice everywhere - even in the hands of the hurried people. The leaves on the trees seemed more summer-y yellow and their juicy green colour had faded away. Soon they would turn red in the autumn and fall down to earth. When they did that, it was truly autumn when they did that you would know that winter was coming. It was first there you needed to worry about cold and not now. It was perhaps a bit chilly in the weather – it always was in Rohan, but it was far from being cold enough to go in woollen clothes. The man was just wearing a simple dark outfit – but he was also used to far more cold than the people he passed by. He had been to the North where winter lasted eight out of twelve months.
His name was Ulf Asgrim. A quite unusual name for a Rohirrim and he didn’t even look like the blond haired people. But he was not from Rohan. He was from north of Bree-land. He was from a place of dark haired people with cold grey eyes. Mountains and wild forests were covering the earth there – no big steppes as far the eye could see. Though the steppes of Rohan were still green and lush despite the harsh environment. Horses loved to living here. Especially at the vast places with the tall grass. They loved to breathe the cool wind that blew over the steppes and it was therefore a perfect place to be for a Rohirrim Rider. Ulf was one of them – he was the first ranger of Rohirrim.
He walked in a slow pace down the filled streets of the market in Edoras. On his shoulder was a very unusual bird. A raven was glaring down at people with one eye as it had its head tilted. It bog beak was clicking as if it was talking to the man, but he just ignored it. Ulf has had this raven for a half year now. He had found it with a broken wing on the steppes this winter and had taken it home to take care of it. The raven had slowly grown attached to the man and was now following him everywhere.
With a drinking horn the man walked over to the well from where people usually gathered water and stepped right in front of a young girl who was the next one in line. Ulf had never cared for waiting in line, and with the reputation of a ranger of Rohirrim, people usually let him pass. He leaned over the well, and filled up his drinking horn before turning back to the young girl. “Excuse me.” He said as a small smile played on his scarred face.

[duilin]

Duilin liked Edoras. Not so much because of its inhabitants, though. Its average inhabitants were very much like the average inhabitants of her small home town in the Eastfold: Rooted to the soil, somewhat patriotic, hard-working and - well, yes, it might sound superficial, but just to state it as fact, most inhabitants had blonde hair, or at least lightly brown coloured. Not surprisingly for Rohirrim. But what Duilin enjoyed so much about Edoras was the landscape. That one single rock, placed in the middle of a vast steppe, framed by the beautiful and rough White Mountains - that was a sight Duilin greatly enjoyed. To her, that portrayed the essence of what she thought Rohan was.

So, as she stood there in the very small crowd of people, waiting on her turn to fetch water from the well, she smiled brightly at the White Mountains in the distance. She had to blink often, the sun was blending her and the wind sent her hair into her face and eyes. And, most certainly it was this distraction - the view, the sun, the wind - that enabled a man, darker than the usual Rohirrim, to jump the queue and push past her. Yes, she blamed it not on him and was in no way annoyed with him, but blamed it on her being distracted. She smiled at this stranger. How odd. He wore such dark clothes and such dark hair that it was obvious his origin was not from Rohan. Instantly, Duilin's curious and very nosey side kicked in, eyeing him with great interest and coming up with a hundred of questions to ask him. She didn't, however. Not yet. She watched as he bent to fill his drinking horn, and as he turned back to her. She noticed some scars. Yes, she certainly wanted a nice talk with him.

She herself wore nothing too warm and wooley. But she wore a pair of gloves, out of two reasons. Duilin tended to have cool hands, not even pumping them helped to warm them up. And secondly, it was easier to work as much as she usually did while wearing gloves. The metal handles of the two buckets would not carve themselves so easily into her flesh then, for example.

"Sir." She spoke, half meant as a greeting, half meant as acceptance that he jumped the crowd, telling him in her way that she did not mind. She nodded at him, too. She moved forward now to let the water run into the first of her two buckets. Holding it in place, she looked up at him, wiping a strand of hair out of her face with one gloved hand. "You're not from here?" It was no real question - she already knew he was not from Rohan. But, from her vast collection of questions she wanted to ask him, it was the most important one to begin with.

[ULF ASGRIM]

Ulf loved Rohan more than anything else; more than the wilderness of Bree-land even though he could sometimes miss the trees and the mountains. He liked the vast landscape and grass as far as the eye could see. He loved the culture of Rohirrim people and their friendly and welcoming spirit. They were nothing like Gondorians who were more what a person would call; big city folk. They seemed a bit distant and arrogant. None really talked much to strangers and all of them had their own businesses to take care of. The people from Bree-land reminded a bit of Gondorians, but they did not have the noble arrogance he saw in the others. They were just plain quiet.
He remembered the time he had been recruited for Rohirrim. He and his trainer had travelled to Bree to visit his family and to give him the contract he had signed. His trainer had talked and told jokes for the Bree people, and felt like he was not liked by any of them because they had just been standing quietly, without any interruptions, and listened to him. But that was just the nature of the dark haired Bree-people. They were just quiet. There should always some ale to make them talk again.
Ulf was still like that. He liked silence and enjoyed loneliness; however his personality had slightly changed since he had lived in Rohan for twenty years now. He had slowly adapted the Rohirric hospitality and friendliness. He had become more open and usually found someone to talk to every time he came to Edoras. It was not hard for a Rohirrim Rider to find people who were willing to have a talk. Many had questions or wanted their children to be recruited. Others just gave the riders respect and showed their gratitude to their work by being overly friendly to them.
But despite how well Ulf had become adapted to the Rohirric way of living, he could not turn into a complete Rohirric citizen. His hair was still black and so were his clothes. The raven on his shoulder even gave him an extra exotic look, and that was probably what the young girl could see when she asked if he was not from around here.
“No, I was born in Bree-land, m’lady.” He said and placed his drinking horn in the holster there was in his belt. “Let me help you with those heavy buckets.” Ulf said and extended his hands as he offered her to carry the water. “Though I have lived in Rohan for twenty years now. I am the First Ranger of Rohirrim.” He said and let his green eyes smile down at her. “Are you from Edoras?”