Rambles of a Ranger (aka Kaya's keepsakes)

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Rambles of a Ranger (aka Kaya's keepsakes)

Postby Kaya » Sat Sep 16, 2006 3:51 am

Hail and well met. :)

I've started this thread to have a place where I can explore the world and background of my muse. Mainly, I’m doing this for my own pleasure, and to have a central space where I can collect all of her memoires.

Maybe, later on, when she explores the big world of RP, excerpts of favourite RP posts will be added.

You are more than welcome to follow her tale, of course. :)

~~~~

A work in progress, and still very much under construction at this point... but here is already a glimpse of what should become a decent character sheet... ;)

‘Dúnadaneth’ : Woman of the West

Characteristics:

Born: the Yr. 2996 of the Third Age, in Combe.
Countenance: Sandy brown hair, grey eyes. She’s of average height en slim build.
Clothes: She wears rusty browns and greens most of the time. When in town she wears comfortable yet plain dresses. A dark and worn cape huddling her shoulders whilst traveling, covering high boots, breeches and a tunic of the finest leather.
Jewelry: She bears a ring, a snake circling her finger that bites its own tail. Around her neck, she wears a torque of plain silver, with runes engraved.

Now she lives in Archet, in a small wooden house near the edge of the settlement, together with her 3 year old son, whom she named Barahir – after the chieftain of the first house of the Edain.

Personality: She’s kind and calm, yet can be even more stubborn than a mule.

Occupation: Herbalist, ranger, falconer. She knows how to weave, and can often be found on a local market looking for the odd little thing no one else has interest for.

Pets: She’s usually in the company of a kestrel named Roäc, and to cover longer distances she uses a blue roan gelding named Cýrawn, Sd. New Moon, her father’s horse.


Lineage:

Her lineage traces back to Arnor through Arthedain from her father’s side, and to Cardolan from her mother’s. Her parents now are in their late fourties.

Her father was a Ranger. There were periods in her life she hardly ever saw him. And when he was at home, he mostly helped out his father and brother in the family’s Smithery. After the end of the War he turned to this craft full-time.

Her mother has always taken care of the household, which has been hard especially since there were 5 children whom she had to raise mostly on her own. During winter, she brought in extra coin with spinning, and helping out in the local backery..

She had an older brother, Beridic, her senior by 11 months. He died during the War of the Ring, which is still an unhealed scar in her family’s heart. Her three younger siblings are aged 25 (Zaiyar) , 22 (Ryada) and 16 (Reni). The youngest two still live at home, the oldest moved to Bree with his wife.

Her grandmother, from her mother’s side, was a wise woman, a healer. It’s from her that Kaya inherited most of her character. One day she just disappeared, and none ever heard back from her.


Timeline:

3d Age
2: Disaster at the Gladden Fields; Death of Isildur.
862: Division of Arnor into Arthedain, Cardolan and Rhudaur.
1000: Arrival or the Istari in Middle-earth; Sauron begins to take new form.
1300: Return of the Nazgúl.
1409: The Witch-King of Angmar invades the Northern Kingdoms.
1500: Hobbits settle at Bree
1600: Beginning of the Shire reckoning.
1900: The Dúnedain or Rangers wander in the wild; but the heirs of the kings live at Imladris (Rivendell) with Elrond.
1974: The forces of Angmar capture Fornost; The remnants of the North-Kingdom is destroyed; Arvedui, the last King of Arthedain, is drowned in the Icebay of Forochel.
1975: Eämur of Gondor brings a fleet to the north. Too late to save the North-Kingdom, he avenges its loss at the Battle of Fornost; Angmar is destroyed.
1980: Return of the Nazgúl to Mordor.
2460: End of the Watchful Peace.
2463: Formation of the White Council; Gollum comes upon the One Ring.
2746: Orcs of the Misty Mountains start their fiercest attacks on Eriador.
2747: The Battle of Greenfields is fought in the Northfarthing of the Shire.
2748: The worst of the Orc-battles of Eriador comes to an end.
2910, Birth of Aragorn
2941: Expulsion of the Necromancer from Dol Guldur by the White Council.
2950: Sauron re-enters Mordor
2996: januari: Birth of Beridic
2996: december: Birth of Kaya
3001: Bilbo’s farewell party
3002: Gandalf begins to explore the history of Bilbo’s ring, and with the aid of Aragorn searches for news of Gollum
3018: Frodo sets out
3019: The war of the Rings
3021: The ringbearers leave Middle-earth


Short bio:

Kaya’s a herbalist. It was her grandmother’s nature, and her dad’s prior occupation, that have kindled her love for everything that grows and the magic they hold, and the freedom that is to be found in the outdoors.

Whenever her father was at home he used to take her and her older brother out for walks in the wild. He learned her how to read the stars, how to use a sword, how to read tracks. Even though her memories of him from during her childhood are rare, those she treasures.

It was her grandmother who learned her the way of the plants, about their use in the kitchen, as ‘first aid’, and how they could be used to turn to good as much as to evil.

Her grandmother, as stated before, one day just disappeared. Kaya was then 16, and from that day on she started to roam the surrounding area on her own, gathering plants and cultivating them. She was often to be seen with a basket filled with herbs. The folks in Combe teasingly used to call her ‘the little witch’.

Then one day, she was in her early twenties and had moved out to Archet recently, her father returned from one of his travels, looking serious – or more serious than ever. He hardly spoke during dinner. It wasn’t until the next evening, when the younger children had gone to bed, that he informed her and her brother of what he seemingly already had told their mother earlier. Something was amis, war seemed to be brewing. He said they could use all the helping hands they could get, for their forces were scattered and widespread. Her brother immediately agreed to help his father, and so he joined him in his long travelings. Kaya was summoned as [].

When war finally burst out in all its fury, her father and brother followed the Grey Company to the aid of the Southern Kingdom. It was there her brother was slain by an Orc-blade. Kaya at that time fought to keep the Bree lands safe, falling back upon all she had ever learned to survive. Then, she found out of her pregnancy.

When the news of the end of the war reached also their little neck of the woods, they awaited the return of their father and brother with growing anticipation.
It was she who first saw a glimpse of his approaching figure. A man suddenly looking much older than his years, his spirit to live on lost on the battle plains of Gondor, fled along with the dieing breath of his son.

The shock of the news was immense. Not even the war, or the fighting, or the fright, had had such an impact on her life as the vision of her father returning, a broken man, and the news about her beloved brother’s death.
She swore that one day she would undertake the journey to Gondor, to lay flowers on his grave.

But even though it seemed the world had stopped, that only had been a trick of the mind. Maybe a wishful thought - for how could every day life just go on when such a young life, a life with such potential, had been ripped away? Maybe by giving birth to a new life. 2 months afther her father’s return she gives birth to a healthy baby boy, which she named Barahir.
Last edited by Kaya on Sat Sep 17, 2011 7:25 am, edited 3 times in total.
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Also writing Arunakhôr, Elenya Elemmirë, Bréhon, Berhelf, Heldred, Kos el-Qadah and Elengurth.

The Dúnedain of the North: The Drake Hunt

A Tale or Two

On a writing adventure with Jaeniver in Scriptorium: Crossroads

Proud member of the Class of '02

All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.


Art by Lane Brown
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Postby Kaya » Sat Sep 16, 2006 3:52 am

Awakening in Archet

Aren’t dreams of the most wonderful enigma’s in life? Vivid, sometimes. Surreal, more than often. Inexplicable and far-fetched, too. Often frightening: a foreboding doom, or a ghost from the past that haunted you whilst you seemed to have forgotten how to move even a single toe. Fleeting fragments that disappeared with dawn breaking. Yet some, some were so peaceful, so real, so beautiful, that waking up ought to be considered a sin.

The isolated screech of a kestrel resounded while it circled high in the sky. In the deep below, on the thick grass and surrounded by bushes and plants blooming colorfully with late summer flowers, lay the figure of a young woman breathing easily under the wake of Morpheus. Her mind had traveled far, following the Great East Road to the Last Bridge, to then divert to the south, all the way to the Gap of Rohan. Leaving Rohan behind her, she then had moved south to the Pelennor Fields. A road of tears, yet heavenly enlightened she felt.

Never had her feet journeyed such distance, yet in her dreams she had already visited all the corners of Middle-earth, picturing it as she remembered from the books and scrolls she had read.

Another screech resounded, causing her to stir. Slowly the presence of this world chased that of her private time and space away, and the sounds and smells of her garden, and the nearby Chetwood, and the cooking of Daisy Daffodil, her neighbor, passed the barrier of her consciousness, drawing her nearer, and nearer, until she felt the blades of grass tickling her face. She had dozed off in the middle of the day! Lazily she opened her eyes. A smile curved her lips.

“Barahir…”

Two hazel eyes immediately looked her way, and a smile that emphasized the mischief of his age made the child’s red cheeks stand out even more. “Mom.”

He quickly covered the short distance between them, putting his attention back to the ladybirds and beetles playing hide and seek in the grass as he dropped himself on his backside close to his mother. With one hand she tussled his hair.

“You know what day it is, Barahir?” she suddenly asked while she watched him as he carefully pointed at a ladybug that had chosen to take a rest on his trousers.

He looked at her, then looked up as if he was thinking really deeply. Ultimately he shook his head, his hair waving with the movement.

“Then, do you know what day it is tomorrow?”

Again he looked at her, his face all serious now as if he considered it a crime not to figure out what she meant.

“It’s someone’s birthday.” Playfully she poked his belly with her forefinger. “Your birthday.”

The little boy’s mouth fell open. “My… birthday?” It seemed a complete surprise to him to find out he had a birthday. “Wow,” was the conclusion.

“You know what that means?”

He shook his head.

“Well…” She took one of his hands in hers. “You know how old you are now?” With an attitude he straightened two of his fingers. “That’s right.” She pushed his ring finger upwards too. “And from tomorrow on, you can show this finger too when people ask you about your age.”

She giggled as his mouth fell open once more. Swiftly she got to her feet and held out her hand. “Come on, lets get you inside to make you some lunch, before the ladybirds start nesting in your mouth.” He tucked his hand in hers and together they walked through the door that gave access to their small wooden house. Looking down, she saw he still was gazing at his fingers.

~ ~ ~ ~

Meanwhile, another house, another village, not that far away.

“Have you completely lost your mind?!” the woman exclaimed, her hands propped on her hips as she stood decisively in front of her husband and his latest purchase. “You bought our grandson a pony?? He’s only turning 3, Balar!”

The sturdy man waved one hand slightly, trying to calm her down. “Easy, Dorah. He’s not a baby anymore. Besides, you know Kaya wants to start taking him out, wants him to learn about the wild, maybe after winter already.”

“It is easy to figure out from whom she inherited that irresponsible behavior, that girl!” Dorah spat.

“She’s not irresponsible. And she since long stopped being a girl. We both know-”

“If you hadn’t been so insistent and stubborn, taking our children out into the wild, introducing them to ‘great adventures’, exposing them to danger... almost pushing them into your footsteps, then, then...” Dorah continued, her hands gesturing desperately and agitated while her voice became louder.

“Don’t even say it!” Balar suddenly exclaimed. Immediately he fell quiet, surprised by his own outburst.

They looked at one another in silence that seemed to last forever.

“I’m sorry...” he started, when he noticed tears welling in her eyes. She abruptly turned and hurried inside, her long skirts rustling. He knew she wasn’t as much upset about his outburst as about the memories that had come flooding back. It was best to let her be now for a while.

Balar sighed. Over three years later and it was still an unhealed wound, to all of them. He wondered if there ever was healing for such wounds.

He turned to the buckskin pony that had been waiting patiently all that time, and patted the animal’s neck. Then he lead him through the fence, where the other horses – his and that of Reni, their youngest – were grazing.

Half an hour later, Balar was walking through the slopes that surrounded Combe. He followed the winding path that would lead him to Archet, the small settlement that lay hidden behind a thin wall of trees, part of Chetwood.
Image
Also writing Arunakhôr, Elenya Elemmirë, Bréhon, Berhelf, Heldred, Kos el-Qadah and Elengurth.

The Dúnedain of the North: The Drake Hunt

A Tale or Two

On a writing adventure with Jaeniver in Scriptorium: Crossroads

Proud member of the Class of '02

All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.


Art by Lane Brown
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Kaya
Dúnadaneth
 
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Joined: Wed Jan 23, 2002 6:29 am
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Postby prettygaladriel » Mon Oct 02, 2006 6:04 am

Ahhh so this is what you were talking about....it's very well-written, Kaya. I'm going to be following the revamping of your character, so you better keep writing :D
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Postby Jaeniver » Sat Oct 07, 2006 6:09 am

Mind if I keep a track on things too?

and you said you forgot how to write, :P nonsense
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Postby Arassuil » Wed Jul 09, 2008 5:51 pm

Quite an interesting character tale kaya! Makes for a good read! I do hope you can continue with it.
:)
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Postby Kaya » Sun Sep 14, 2008 3:49 am

Thanks! :)

Yeah, I should somehow find the time to continue with this. Unfortunately, between work and evening classes and housekeeping and sports and socializing, life already seems quite overbooked. :bang:
Image
Also writing Arunakhôr, Elenya Elemmirë, Bréhon, Berhelf, Heldred, Kos el-Qadah and Elengurth.

The Dúnedain of the North: The Drake Hunt

A Tale or Two

On a writing adventure with Jaeniver in Scriptorium: Crossroads

Proud member of the Class of '02

All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.


Art by Lane Brown
User avatar
Kaya
Dúnadaneth
 
Posts: 5256
Joined: Wed Jan 23, 2002 6:29 am
Location: Northern Wilderness (and otherwise, in Belgium)
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Postby Arassuil » Mon Jul 06, 2009 12:37 am

Yes, I understand that. I know it's hard to get the muse into the right 'feel' to write something that was so inspired at one time. Life does sap the muse. Anyway, thanks for this!
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