Life upon the road is hard for a child, and even more so when your kind are shunned and distrusted in many parts of the land. So it is then that a young couple of the Dunedain, upon learning that they were to be blessed with a child decided to settle in one of the smaller townships of Eriador, at least to raise that child. Lohadloss and Hirvien chose Archet for this, deeming that the small village on the edge of the Chetwood would be both pleasant and far from prying eyes. Indeed, as they raised a small hut to join the villagers, they were careful not to let any know of their status as 'Rangers'.
Hirvien bore a boy, and from the first he would both wail and laugh with equal energy, and many was the night that he kept his parents awake. This bothered them little, in truth, though they were quick to name him Lomin, or 'Echo' in the language of the Sindar, as they joked that even if he was far away they could still hear his gurgling voice. To the villagers and woodsmen of Archet, he was known simply as Chirp, as they themselves joked that he chirped louder and more often than the birds of morning.
A happy child was he, and as he grew into adolescence he lost none of his buoyant nature. Ever was he running free in the woods and climbing the trees, or wading in the river to duel with some imagined water sprite or troll. He was a burden at times to his parents, who feared that he might become a nuisance to their neighbours, but the villagers loved Lomin dearly; indeed, as mainly woodsmen they delighted in the lad's exuberance. It was not long before he was accompanying them in the tasks; carrying small logs and tools for the men. Much did he learn then about the trees they felled and the axes they used to do so, and all thought that he would grow to be a fine lumberjack.
But while Lomin thrived in Archet, his father did less well. For Lohadloss missed the road and the company of the Dunedain, and as the years had passed he had grown weary of the small village. He too found joy in his son, but this was tempered also by the boredom he fostered, and he longed to teach Lomin of the ways of their people. Hirvien herself had sung by the boy's bedside many a tale of the 'Rangers' and their deeds, and of their history also, but the lad had never learned that his parents and he were of that same kin, and this weighed upon Lohadloss' heart.
And so it was, upon Lomin's fourteenth birthday that one of these mysterious Rangers came to Archet. The Dunedain had not forgotten that two of their number had settled there, but had never had need to call upon them thus far. A party of goblins had managed to sneak past the eyes of the Rangers and lay waste to a farmstead nearby, and Lohadloss' sword was needed to aid them in defeating the foul yrch. With a sigh of almost relief Lohadloss agreed, and chose to take Lomin with them, as the boy seemed intrigued by their strange visitor. Hirvien grieved for this, and was against it, but Lohadloss deemed it was time the boy see his own people for true.
As they found and ambushed the goblins, a short battle ensued in which Lohadloss was wounded badly by an orc blade, and his legs gave beneath him before one of their number. Lomin, who had been held back to watch then sprung from hiding bearing a woodsman's axe and with a fierce cry he slew the orc as the vile creature prepared to do as much for his father. Such was the fire in his gaze as he turned to face the other goblins that they backed away from him, and the Rangers had little trouble in finishing them off; indeed, Lomin's axe-blade tasted yrch blood twice more that day.
But the triumph was hollow in the end for Lomin, for as he tended to his wounded father he learned that the orcs' knives were poisoned, and Lohadloss had little time to live. Turning to his son he smiled in spite of his fate and held out a hand to him, dubbing him Lominhur; an Echo of Vigour, for his deeds in the skirmish, and passed away with a loving kiss to his son's brow. A heavy heart was carried back to Archet by Lominhur, and Hirvien wept as she learned of Lohadloss' fate. From that day she resolved to tell and teach Lominhur everything of the Dunedain, revealing his kinship with them, and after a few short months she made plans to rejoin them.
Sorry was Lominhur to leave his village, and sorry also were the woodsmen to lose their 'Chirp', but the young man and his mother departed soon enough, and a desire to emulate his father burned hot in his breast. As they found their kin, and were greeted warmly, Lominhur grew into full manhood and learned well the skills and arts of the Dunedain. Fell he became with a longsword, though he never lost his love of or skill with an axe, and while his moods seemed darker than the merry joys of his youth he retained ever that vibrant energy which earned him his many names. Indeed, among his freinds he became known as Rush, for he seemed never to tire and ran as much as ride when haste was called for, though in their quiet moments he was known still as Chirp to his mother, and could at such times be seen as the same lad who played in the streams and woods.
Since then, he has become a valued and fond companion to his fellow Dunedain, and toils as they do to protect the land and the simple folk of Eriador, for whom he has much love from his early days in Archet.
Description:
The man before you is tall, that much is clear. A good few inches seperate him from what one would think of as the norm for the men of Eriador, and he stands proudly with his back straight. What is not clear is what features he has, for they are masked by the shadow of a deep cowl; his clothing likewise wrapped in the cloth of a heavy cloak. Sturdy walking boots can be seen where this cloak ends, and from his sleeves sprout rough hands, but aught else is hidden by his garb, which surely is designed to brave the harshest of weather. From within his hood a keen gaze twinkles amiably whenever the light catches it, but even so, the point of a scabbard peeks out by the side of his knees; suggesting that this fellow is perhaps not one to catch in a darker mood.
