Iluvatar's Grace
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Esbaron, of Gondor
http://www.iluvatarsgrace.com/viewtopic.php?f=50&t=214
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Author:  ShiffDrgnhrt [ Wed Apr 20, 2011 10:40 pm ]
Post subject:  Esbaron, of Gondor

Clang, clang, clang. . .

A bitter wind was blowing that day, but the heat of the forge kept the chill at bay for the young blacksmith. Esbaron was shaping a new set of horseshoes for a customer, who happened to be a ranger from Ithilien, and it was getting late as the sky became a rosy pink to the west and dark to the east. That customer, however, was none other than Faramir, the Captain of the Rangers. Esbaron had met him only once before, under much less pleasant circumstances...

About ten years ago, when Esbaron was still a lowly apprentice blacksmith, his older brother Elderon joined the Rangers in order to help protect his home, and his mother, and his brother, as his father had done before them. But despite a his bravery and courage, Elderon was felled by a Mordor arrow, and it was Faramir who brought his body back to Esbaron.

"It has been a long time, Esbaron."

The smithy turned around to see the familiar face. "Lord Faramir. What brings you-"

"Something that leaves no time for pleasantries, Esbaron." The Captain's face was grave. Something of dire importance was on his mind. "I need you to do something for me, and before you agree, hear me out. I do not ask this as a Captain or as the son of the Steward. I ask as a man with an older brother."

Esbaron frowned. He had heard that Boromir had travelled north to Imladris for some meeting of great import, but he was not greatly fond of the man. Esbaron felt he was too eager for glory in battle. "What can a smithy do for you, Faramir?"

"I need you to go north, and find Boromir. Tell him that the men want to know he is well, and it will greatly improve morale if they are fighting to make Gondor safe on his return."

Esbaron sighed. He had no reason to say no. He had little to stay for. He was always busy trying to earn enough to keep his home and forge, and had no relations of worth in his village. "What would you have me do"

. . .

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