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Freiri
Freiri Greendelver
| Name | Freiri |
|---|---|
| Status | Active |
| Occupation | Retired trader and scholar, amateur gardener |
| Age | Old |
| Race | Dwarf |
|---|---|
| Residence | My family's hall is at Erebor, but I currently reside at 1 Frothing, Rikbarg |
| Kinship | Durin's Folk |
| Outward Appearance | Freiri is an older Dwarf, soft-spoken yet loquacious, with a kindly manner and a bittersweet air. He is usually clad in robes and hooded cloaks. He prefers bright colors, but as a footloose rambler is often seen in a road-worn drab. |
|---|
Background
I was born in the Blue Mountains in 2819, 200 years ago. My mother Im taught me to smith in those days when Longbeards relied on trade, but my heart was given to song, lore, and story.
In my 125th year, shortly after Erebor was reclaimed, I moved with my parents to live beneath the Mountain. They dwell there still, but I and many others soon felt a longing for greater halls.
I was a hale 170 when Lord Balin set out for Khazad-dum. To my everlasting regret, I did not follow. Yet several years later I did leave King Dain's realm; not to seek Moria, from which we had had no news lately, but to study its history wherever traces remained.
I traveled widely, but to the libraries of Rivendell I came most often. I grew to understand that although strong arms and stout hearts might retake Moria for a while, only a revival of old alliances and a change in the fortunes of the world may bring about a rebirth of Durin's Kingdom.
Of late I live at 1 Frothing, Rikbarg in the land of my birth, and walk again, as I did in my youth, the fading roads of the North of the world.
| Friends | Kandral |
|---|---|
| Relatives | None |
| Rivals/Enemies | None |
| Loves | lore |
|---|---|
| Hates | |
| Motivation | Freiri is at a stage in life when he has seen his ambitions through, and unforuntately saw them frustrated to some extent. He now reflects rather than strives, looking backward or far forward rather than to the middle-distance of attainable ends. |
| Quotes | "Unwearied then were Durin's folk; Beneath the mountains music woke: The harpers harped, the minstrels sang, And at the gates the trumpets rang." - Gimli |
