So I,
oft wretched and sorrowful,
bereft of my homeland,
far from noble kinsmen,
have had to bind in fetters
my inmost thoughts.

Deorcred son of Deorcsen born of Folde two decades ago to the mother Saegifu of Rohan. He was raised goodly in measure beneath the canopy of Aldburg. Deorcsen of the first Eored and the Guard of Meduseld in the time of war and the simple yet wealthy farmer in the time of peace, which was only a little time so Saegifu also helped his husband in the field work. Not too later, Deorcred picked his first steed, and indeed a great mare it was, with chestnut mane of long and he began to help his mother and father in the field work, his hold of the hilt was later than he dreamed of. For his mother of gentle soul, took a great loving to his only son, and did not want to raise him for straight into the war.

Yet the blood did not delay in his veins, Deorcred reached for the sword not too later after he began to mount his great steed swiftly. His first mentor was his father, and he was the perfect one for him since he had the chance to raise and get to know him from his very birth. Deorcred wielded his sword in a very skilled way, and very soon after his start, he began to train with steel. Soon his family was rich and wealthy enough to buy an estate around the plains of Folde, which would bring the lordship to both his father and Deorcred. Inside the walls of Aldburg, he took a liking to a nearby farmer's red haired girl, his emotions were pure and innocent and never wanted to hurt her feelings in any manner back then.

Not too later after his childhood’s end, Saegifu caught by a local sickness, and the life escaped from her at her bed, with his son and husband near her. That event affected Deorcred deeply, a sad yet proud lord of his family joined straight to the ranks, to his father in the first Eored of Edoras. Deorcred learnt to read, write and perfect his skills within combat. He trained with noble weapons of his forefathers; blade, spear, sword and soon he was capable to use all of them in a significant level. Many would say that he was ruthless and fierce in a combat for his soul became grim after the tragic death of his mother.

A great assault of the Orc-kind happened at the western marches, the Rohirrim of the nearby groups mustered for the defense. In that line, Deorcsen and his son held fast. Being the first serious combat of Deorcred, he was excited, yet never afraid. He rode to the war with his father and the rest of the Eored, they charged and broke the lines of enemy, diving straight in. In the chaos of combat, he lost the connection with his father. His mind was with Deorcsen,  it was seperated from his body and hands for he couldn’t see him or his steed anymore. He charged the enemy nonetheless, swinging his sword and taking many heads of the enemy and he took no harm whilst in that sorrowful day.

Few would remember now the tall boy of blond hair took his helm off and revealed his fair face of tears and terror. His collapse was quick onto his knees beside his father’s dead and bloodied body. Soon as the battle has ended, Deorcred carried his father’s body away, their armour both were scattered and stained with the blood of enemy. The innocent face of Deorcred glanced at the last member of his family before burying him with his own hands. He turned back to his almost cursed and empty estate now, nobody ran the field anymore, nor he had a need for it, the long silence and vain peace came to his homeland.

He packed up and mounted his trusted horse. Having abandoned all of his responsibilities, his wealth, his duty and titles and the nearby farmer’s girl once he was sweet on without a word in the pursuit of his own inner peace and freedom. He traveled Southern cities and worked as a hired blade in the realms of Men for great raids and a guard for the caravans. As much as he grew more grey moraled, he sold his blade more scantly as of late, only taking part in serious and honorable business and he is on ever travel with a love for drinking and freedom, he is known as being enigmatic yet an approachable, lone person.

Long ridden after and having seen and experienced that was laid before his destiny as an unbidden wanderer, he decided on taking the law on his hands, the warrior rode over hills and over dales until the first light of the morning, with all his hatred and dark tranquil soul, to live what years left from his fate in a dire cause to defend the miles of fen and field, and with the people of the Mark he cared within.