Hilumrekjā, or Braigion in the Sindarized form of his name, was born beneath the stars once upon a time. He was the second child of a chieftain of Avarin nomads that belonged to the Penni division.

Braigion lived up to his name: son of the wild, in his late adolescent years. Wandering off under a starry eve, he managed to become a hunting orc party’s guest for a while. He suffered severe wounds, though recovered from them after miraculously managing to escape. A large, faded scar that runs across his hip to his lower ribcage is the only obvious mark that remains to this day as a reminder of the event.

Retracing steps, and following barely visible tracks of his kinsman, he managed to find his father’s group once more. A few Avari treated their chief’s youngest with much scorn, even to the point of physical violence. As much as Braigion’s father tried to amend the damage (even though upon his son’s return he was much disappointed with him), Braigion remained scarred and paranoid even to his own kindred, and often remained silent.

As the stars rotated, and sun and moon arose, they all traveled ever more Eastward. Coming across the Secondborn was a startle for the Avari, and also for the Atani. The elves viewed the men as another form of orc at first, but none were slain. Eventually, a mutual friendship was made between both groups. Mingling with men and other groups of Avari were among the most memorable events for Braigion. As much as witnessing the death of the mortals were a startling and saddening thing, he only grew to respect and love them more for how short a time they have in the world.

As the Secondborn began to forge themselves their own settlements, it was the same for the Avari as well. For most of Braigion’s life, the lands beyond the Sea of Rhûn were the most joyful and heartwarming experiences and adventures he had lived.

But it never can last.

As a loyal son and sentry to his sire, he followed his father as their party was sent back West for news. With the dreadful Long Winter that fell upon them, Braigion’s older sister Laiknis died. The party’s number continued to diminish before the remaining elves had to return back home else all would perish.

A second attempt was made many years later, only this time hardier warriors were coming with. Unfortunately they happened to be Braigion’s rivals, though they spoke nothing to him and kept their distance. As the party traveled through the Brown Lands, they were assailed by massive wolves: wargs. Among the dead were Braigion’s parents; everyone else that survived were his enemies.

As he kneeled beside the corpse of Ībgondō, his father, soon after breathing his last, Braigion was once again assailed by the remnants of the party. By natural consequence, Braigion would have assumed leadership of his house, though the others would have none of it, and drove him away.

Braigion continued westward, unsure of where he was going or where to go. By fate or chance, he stumbled across the borders of Mirkwood. He did not linger for too long, finding the forest very unpleasant and far too dangerous than it was worth, and kept moving. Eventually, the Avar came across the great mountains of the Hithaeglir. That sight was both wonderful and terrible, yet with not much thought he still trekked onward…

Braigion was nearing death in facing the cold and unforgiving conditions of the mountains. Once more by chance or fate, he came across a small camp at the mouth of a cave. There he encountered one of his higher kin. He had heard rumors of them before, and always wondered, yet still he ran from fear (and slight madness from having almost no social contact for some months).

Some weeks later, the same elleth and her cousin found him in the Trollshaws, but instead of running away, Braigion complied and followed them into Imladris. The experiences were new, shocking, and unsettling for the Avar. He was not able to settle comfortably, or let alone rest without worry, especially after continued scorn even from the “higher” elves.

As of now, however, Braigion has adapted to these drastic changes, though remains suspicious and if not a bit peeved with the pride fullness of the Noldor. In spite of this, Braigion remains for no apparent cause except the hope for something better.