RPer: Baldursson

Character name: Trindon

Character setting: Fantasy world

Age: 17

Race: Human

Appearance: 6’2”, 245lbs, short cut blond hair, light colored eyes; actually eye color depends on mood and clothes. His arms are covered in ropy-knotted muscles from the many hours spent in front of the forge hammering on metal. His legs resemble small oak trunks. One look at them and the word solid comes to mind. He wears the same homespun clothing that adorns most of the villagers on any given day. When he is not working, he will have the Axe and a longbow across his back. The Axe? You can’t mistake it. It is all shadowy and silver. It was his Journeyman piece. He had found some old books that contained some interesting ideas on shaping and mixing metals. There were some words that Siredon helped him with and they traveled for hundreds of leagues in the mountains looking for certain ores. The Axe was finished on last Mid-Summers Eve. Between the hot sun and the bright full moon there was plenty of light to make the Axe.

History: Eldest son of the village blacksmith. Trindon has a build similar to his blacksmith father but has his mother’s light skin tones. From the time he was seven years old he has been the protector of his little brother, Siredon. Siredon was born premature and very weak, according to the laws of the village he should have been left to die because of this weakness. Because their father was the Blacksmith, the village did not enforce that law. One of the mysteries surrounding Siredon’s birth is that he is a mute. He can communicate but only through Trindon. They share thoughts and Trindon communicates for Siredon when the need arises. Trindon was required to come to the aid of his brother for many years as a result.

Personality: Quiet for the most part. Trindon never looks for trouble and never holds a grudge. He will lend a hand wherever one is needed and doesn’t wait around for rewards afterward. Trindon has been in one fight. At the age of 16, when he and his brother were working closely to make the Axe he walked into the village later one evening. A lot of men were sitting around repairing their nets for the great White Fish run. Jornel the leather maker had been drinking too much. When the boys walked in Jornel made the sign to ward off evil when Siredon walked to closely. Trindon hissed and was about to speak when Jornel’s legs got caught up in the end of Siredon staff and Jornel fell hard. Still hissing Trindon offered a hand to help Jornel off the ground. Jornel scoffed at Trindon . Jornel stood, sneered and asked “What’s the matter? Scared of the truth? Hell we all know what happened on the night that evil get was born.” Trindon launched himself at Jornel. It took ten village men to pull Trindon off. Jornel will never use his leg or arm on the right side. During the fight, no on noticed but Siredon was sitting by the fire with a slightly feral grin and a faint blue glow emanating from him.

Occupation: Blacksmith Journeyman

Abilities: No Known Abilities at this time.

---

An old man in white coat, who looked kindly but alert opened the door of the room. "Trindon?" He asked, checking the looks of the man in the room against a small portrait attached to the clipboard he carried under one arm. "I'm Marcus," He said with a friendly smile, walking into the room, "Mind if I ask you a few questions?"

"Huh?" Trindon jumps slightly at the door opening. "Oh sorry, are you the person I am supposed to be waiting on? I really don't know what's going on. They just told me to wait in this room. Oh, yeah I am Trindon."

"Yes that's me," Said Marcus with a smile, taking a seat in one of the chairs in the room, "as I said - mind if I ask you a few questions? It won't take long."

"Ahhhhhh no go ahead, but if I may ask. Where is my brother? I just want to make sure he is ok." Looks around as if looking for someone.

"He's perfectly fine - and safe," said Marcus, still with a friendly, affable expression, "I shall escort you to him once we're done with the questions, if you like. Now, to being." Marcus paused, "Please don't feel obliged to answer any question that makes you uncomfortable, by the way," he said, then continued, "You're brother was saved at birth because your father was the village blacksmith, correct? Is that because the blacksmith is, feared, respected or...?" He trailed off, waiting for Trindon's explanation

Smiling and comfortable, "It is about respect and need. Away from cities like yours here, good Blacksmiths are rare. A village with one will prosper while their neighbors fail. We are almost always a village leader if not the mayor. So the village honored his wish to keep Siredon alive because he had already made our town more prosperous. Keeping my brother alive wasn't a burden to the town really." Smiles, "Oh he must have been sleeping very deeply"

Marcus nodded, his features displaying a genuine interest in Trindon's reply, "And you are blacksmith yourself," Marcus continued once Trindon finished, "Do you ever encounter... fear, or superstition? From people who don't understand blacksmithing - do others who don't know how it works see it as a sort of magic? Or is all the interest you get benign - gratitude, et. cetera?"

Looks at the Axe resting in a corner of the room, "I am not yet. Just a journeyman. I think some people are superstitious." Anger crosses his features, "Villages are full of superstitious fools though."

"So you've never encountered a negative response to your being a journeyman blacksmith?" Asked Marcus, in an attempt to clarify.

"To my becoming a blacksmith no." Clenches and releases fists over and over, jaw clenches and releases.

Having read the brief biography of Trindon he had been given before conducting the interview, Marcus assumed that the current state of agitation Trindon seemed to be in was probably related to the discrimination his brother had suffered through the superstition of others, and proceeded cautiously, "But your brother, on the other hand... does encounter negative responses, I gather? Why exactly is this - just because he is mute?" 

Looks around the room, sighs deeply. "No, not because he is mute." Looks at Marcus' face. Into his eyes. Trindon looks away for a few minutes as if debating with himself. Quietly, just above a whisper Trindon begins to talk,"Mariamar was the village healer on the night Siredon was born. She was old, very knowledgeable,and greatly loved by the villagers. She had brought her assistant because she knew it was going to be a difficulty delivery. She died that night. Her assistant spread a tale of a blue light landing on the belly of my mother as she was giving birth. Mariamar went rigid and whispered 'That which was lost will be found, Two will become one when one is no more, look for the mark of Vatacomus'. Her assistant left our village shortly after spreading that tail. Everyone has said my brother is evil following that night." 

"And this... mark of Vatacomus..." said Marcus gently, "Does that make sense to anyone? Who is Vatacomus?"

"No one seems to know. I think finding that out is a mission of Siredon's. At least part of the reason we were going to the capitol city."

Marcus nodded, looking thoughtful. He paused for a moment before asking his next question: "And your brother... how does he feel about it all? Obviously he's interested in this... shall we call it a prophecy? Does he have any suspicions or thoughts about its meaning?"

"Oddly enough we don't talk about it much." Trindon's eyes widen at his last sentence. "Ahhhhhhhhhh I meant ahhhhhhhhhh I don't think so."

Slightly puzzled by Trindon's reaction, Marcus frowned in a quizzical and but slightly concerned way. "Are you alright?" he asked.

Sighs deeply, "Yes, just I was getting into the conversation and well it has been a while since I talked to a friendly person. I should not have mentioned that Siredon and I can talk together in our minds."

Marcus shook his head, smiled and held up the clipboard he had, "I know roughly of it already," he said. His expression changed to one of curiosity and interest as he continued, leaning forward in his chair, "So is that what happened just then? Was Siredon talking to you?"

"Yes, he does not trust you. And when I went to tell you the tale of his birth, he and I argued it. But, I decided to tell you in spite of his objections. If it were up to him we would trust no one."

Marcus looked slightly surprised, but not hurt to learn that he wasn't trusted by the mysterious Siredon. "I presume that by default then, he would also prefer it if you didn't trust anyone, either?" he asked, mildly.

"hahahahahahah yeah he calls me a fool sometimes for trusting. But I figure if I am betrayed.......well I have my Axe."