This is the first part of the many I will write on the Laurelin Archives, I have intently waited with doing this for Rohan to be released as now I can also start on "Present" chapters. I hope you will enjoy my little wandering thoughts, Jorundr.
orundr hails from a little farming settlement south-west from Edoras, His parents, Eoheort and Leofwyn, did most of the work on the farm and Jorund and his sister Leofara where send off too a nearby village to be educated with other children of surrounding villages.
The favorite way to spend time for Jorund was not to brawl with the other boys, or fight with wooden weapons, but instead he preferred to wander over the the rolling plains by himself, dreaming of other places, often sitting in a lone tree staring at the skies or the horizon. His parents left him mostly alone because with his head in the clouds he was never much use around the farm.
And one day, while on one of his journeys, he decided to keep going further, and simply not return. It wasn't because he didn't care or love his parents and sister, nor was he unhappy or sad, he simply wasn't bound to this place.
till not sure where is he was going or why he was leaving his home behind, Jorundr travelled from one settlement to the other sleeping where ever he could find shelter, stables, bushes and empty sheds. He could feel the eyes of all people on him, who was that dirty boy? They asked themselves, where does he go? Surely things where not that bad on the west mark that childeren wander around like unkept sheep?
Hunger was all he could think off, he knew how to collect berries and other fruits that nature provided, but never would Jorundr have thought that aquiring food would be this difficult, surely the people of Rohan are generous? Could they not spare only a bit of bread he wondered. And not long after that he started to beg, but everyone simply seemed to ignore the poor boy, his cloths covered in mud and stinking of stables.
One morning, with his stomac growling like a beast from the wold, he approched the tavern of the village slowly, looking around if no one payed him any attention, he carefully crept through an open window at the back and looked around the tavern. A few men were heartily laughing to eachother over their early mug of mead. On the table behind them laid several freshly baked weat breads. Slowly Jorundr sneaked towards the table, remaining the the shadows, quiet as a mouse. He kneeled beside the table, out of the sight of the men, and reached out carefully towards the bread nearest to him. Quick as a snake, a hand grabbed his wrist and he got pulled roughly towards his captor. In panic he tried to struggle and escape, kicking and punching, but it had no use. He got pulled upwards with a strong arm around his neck and looked straight into the grey-green eyes, sunburned skin and rough beard.
