"You need to keep your rest, mister. " The old man looked up at the ceiling while hearing the woman talk. A think blanket covered the elderly man and a wet cloth was laying on his forehead. "I don't think that I have the strength to defy you." His speech was grizzled and showed a glint of the speaker's origin, something that he did not want to let know in normal circumstances. The woman that sat at his bedside took the wet cloth from the forehead of her patient. She drenched the object in a nearby bucket before placing it on the old man's forehead again. "It is but a nasty fever. I have something to sooth the headache. I can run over to the apothecary, if you wish." Mister Greenhand looked up at his caretaker. An elderly woman with grey hair yet her voice sounded still young. The old man simply nodded before looking at the ceiling again.
Should I get her something nice? I pay for her services yet she seems to be fond of me. That or she is just good at her work, I guess. It doesn't matter much...I will get her something. Maybe a simple bracelet? Or would she not wear those kind of jewelry? I should have paid more attention before she headed out the door. Have to keep an eye out when she returns. If she doesn't than I cou-
What was I thinking about? Why was I thinking about such trivial matters? The boys can rake care of themselves. That was not the problem. Still...what happened? I am laying in a bed in a small town im the middle of nowhere. With a fever no less. Since when do the great get fevers? "More importantly...since when is a fever my greatest worry?" The words echoed through the empty upper floor. No answer was heard yet an answer had to be found.
Tadforth Greenhand, no. Tidhelm stood up out of bed. The fever not bothering him too much at the moment. Tidhelm walked over to his bookcase. After a short moment of searching the small booklet was found between two rather large tomes. Only after walking over to his table and sitting down, did the old man open it. The first page was in front of Tidhelm, withered and hard to read. A reminder of the past to keep a look on the future.
My name Tidhelm, son of Baldwine, son of Hulda. Born in the small town of Walstow, near the East wall in the land known as Rohan. Twenty summers old am I when I begin in this tome and I will keep writing in it until my goals have come been concluded. I will do everything in my power to make the world a better place for my future heirs. I will not stop in the face of adversary or strive. I will not bow down to the oppressors that wish to bring harm upon us. I will protect my town and will honour the oaths I have taken in life. I will make a difference in this world to make it a better place one day. This I swear to do till the day I die.
Tidhelm grabbed a nearby quill from the table and dipped it in some ink. After turning the page, the old man started writing the long overdue second page.
My name is Tidhelm yet I am known under many other names. Tadforth Greenhand, the conqueror of Minhiriath, The old Man, Orc-Friend, the lackey, Folcbrand, the Enforcer. Those were just a few that I could remember at the moment. I reject my heritage and country of birth as they do not represent me anymore. I am seventy three winters old when I am writing this page. I have never continued writing in this booklet before now. I have done everything in my power to make this world a better place. Not for myself, not for my heirs nor even for the ones I once called kin or friends. I made the world better for the majority that lives in it. I have seen the face of adversity and strive yet they both could not stop me. I have bowed down to the very beings that I once called my oppressors and I never made a choice more righteous than that one. I have brought harm to the town I was born in and do not regret it nor do I regret the foolish oaths that I have forsaken for new oaths. I have made a difference in this world to make it a better place one day. Like I had sworn to do till the day I die.
