- Messages
- 157
- Character Biography
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Along the old road, Llewen was travelling alone again atop his brown palfrey, Rosemary. The breeze awakened the pines, which swayed to and fro in a rippling cascade of green in the valley landscape that made up the lands of House Merrick, a virtually untamed patch of land stretching 380 acres between two stretches of mountain that loomed over the forest like timeless sentinels cradling the forest in their rocky arms. This was Llewen's land, a vast untamed wilderness blessed with fertile soil that he lacked the men and the resources to begin to cultivate into proper farmland. This was the legacy of Gawain Merrick and his wife, Gwendelain. Somewhere here, on the old road, his parents had met a tragic end at the hands of marauding orcs, which took their entire fortune. Gawain had been on the way to the city of Mardus to buy laborers to begin the process of cultivating their land when the attack had happened, which meant all of the gold really was gone--like any Knight, Gawain Merrick intended to use all of his earning to kickstart the process. A decision which left Llewen penniless and alone since he was 13, his only company the 3 peasant families he technically ruled over as part of the title of Merrick.
Llewen pictured the scene in his head. Terrible images of violence flashed before his mind's eye, and he pictured the terror his beloved mother must have felt, and the tragic scene of his gallant father being cut down in a violent, savage manner, trying to defend his wife but unable to turn away the blades of so many orcs all at once.
He'd been told the news by his father's friend, Landis of the former House Carlisle, who had taken it upon himself to bury Llewen's mother and father. Landis would later come to Llewen's home at Castle Merrick and serve as his steward, but at the time Landis had to be the one who broke Llewen completely. They had a small funeral that day, just outside the castle grounds; only Landis, Llewen, and the peasants attended.
A small mist blew in over the mountain scene and a gentle drizzle of rain began to coat the earth in a familiar dew. Llewen wondered if it was raining when his parents were murdered, and suddenly found himself clenching his teeth and slamming his fist into rosemary's neck.
"Dammit!" he cried out. He thought now of the sad state of House Merrick. In 5 years, he'd made only enough money from his peasant family to cover essentials like food and new clothing, most of which he gave back to them. His father had had huge plans for their land, and in 5 years Llewen had done nothing. He was only 18 now, and 13 then, but the shame welled up inside of him and burst into tears that streaked down his face in the bitter cold of the rain. He suddenly held Rosemary's neck, hugging tightly as he sobbed, "I'm sorry father, I'm sorry! I'm sorry, mother! I'm sorry..."
He wept in this scene for a few minutes before collecting himself enough to look to the road ahead again, still crying, but wiping his eyes a bit. His mother's voice crept into his head:
A knight is always brave and gallant, Llewen. Always.
I'm not either of those things, Mother, he thought to himself.
He looked into the overcast sky, stretching his hand into the air.
I wish I could just reach you... Or even just see you again. I will make House Merrick great. I cannot be weak anymore.
His outstretched palm slowly returned to the reins of his palfrey and, in a moment, he urged the horse on, his purpose made clear once again.
Llewen pictured the scene in his head. Terrible images of violence flashed before his mind's eye, and he pictured the terror his beloved mother must have felt, and the tragic scene of his gallant father being cut down in a violent, savage manner, trying to defend his wife but unable to turn away the blades of so many orcs all at once.
He'd been told the news by his father's friend, Landis of the former House Carlisle, who had taken it upon himself to bury Llewen's mother and father. Landis would later come to Llewen's home at Castle Merrick and serve as his steward, but at the time Landis had to be the one who broke Llewen completely. They had a small funeral that day, just outside the castle grounds; only Landis, Llewen, and the peasants attended.
A small mist blew in over the mountain scene and a gentle drizzle of rain began to coat the earth in a familiar dew. Llewen wondered if it was raining when his parents were murdered, and suddenly found himself clenching his teeth and slamming his fist into rosemary's neck.
"Dammit!" he cried out. He thought now of the sad state of House Merrick. In 5 years, he'd made only enough money from his peasant family to cover essentials like food and new clothing, most of which he gave back to them. His father had had huge plans for their land, and in 5 years Llewen had done nothing. He was only 18 now, and 13 then, but the shame welled up inside of him and burst into tears that streaked down his face in the bitter cold of the rain. He suddenly held Rosemary's neck, hugging tightly as he sobbed, "I'm sorry father, I'm sorry! I'm sorry, mother! I'm sorry..."
He wept in this scene for a few minutes before collecting himself enough to look to the road ahead again, still crying, but wiping his eyes a bit. His mother's voice crept into his head:
A knight is always brave and gallant, Llewen. Always.
I'm not either of those things, Mother, he thought to himself.
He looked into the overcast sky, stretching his hand into the air.
I wish I could just reach you... Or even just see you again. I will make House Merrick great. I cannot be weak anymore.
His outstretched palm slowly returned to the reins of his palfrey and, in a moment, he urged the horse on, his purpose made clear once again.
