Loden merrily strode along the packed earth and stone roadway. It felt comforting to be on such familiar ground. He gazed upon the forest, left and right, with warmth, smiling as thoughts of his childhood flooded back.  Those were good days, good times indeed, he thought to himself. He allowed the loss of his mentor and adopted father to sink back in his subconscious for now. No reason to become sad and gloomy on such a beautiful day as this. The insects buzzed about the clearings, butterflies bounced on the air and small birds darted in and out of the trees singing their songs of joy, of life. So, did Loden Grimm, sing his song of joy, one he learned  many years ago from Brand of the Nightwood...

[center][i][color=7bcdc8]If you'd come with me to County Satrom,
O brown-haired flower of maidens,
I'd give you honey and mead for food,
O brown-haired flower of maidens.
Bright salmon I'd bring back to you,
Wine and beer to drink after that,
You could sleep sound in a bed of down,
O brown-haired flower of maidens.

Oh, I saw her toward me through the mountains,
Like a star approaching in the mist,
And I was talking and conversing with her
Till we reached the cows' pasture.
We sat down beside the road
and I swore to her in writing,
That nothing she lacked  but I'd rove out to find
For the brown-haired flower of maidens.

Ah, I'll not go with you,
and it's no good your asking,
Said the brown-haired flower of maidens,
For your speeches won't keep me alive without food,
Said the brown-haired flower of maidens,
A thousand times better that I were single forever
Than to be walking the dewy glens with you,
And that my heart gave you love and affection,
Said the brown-haired flower of maidens.[/color]
--Old Gaellic folk song[/i][/center]

Almost on cue, the song ended as he came to the small village of Bosfyrd, the hamlet he visited on occasion with his father, fetching supplies or bartering away something one of his siblings may have crafted. The children made many finished products over the years, which Brand could find a buyer for quite easily to help raise his large brood of wayward children. The children were more than happy to use their talents to raise money for the family. After all it was Brand who taught them to build such fine tools.

The sights and sounds of the woods and hamlet caused many delightful memories of a safer time. They overwhelmed him and brought joy to his heart. That feeling is what pushed the Ranger-Healer to sing his song of yore.

Standing at the edge of the town, leaning against a building, Loden eyeballed several armed men with no identifying tabard, seal or banner marking them as soldiers belonging to Baron Whul or King Harold. They displayed no colors for any of Harold's vassals in Vendland. Were they were mercenaries? If so, why were they here in Bosfyrd? 

Not wanting to attract attention, Loden silently made his way past back doors and through alleyways until he found himself at the tavern known as [i]"The Scuffed Boots"[/i]. He entered quietly, lowered his hood and scanned the room. He attempted to acclimate himself to the patronage, looking from face to face. He eagerly sought a familiar face. It had been ten years since last he visited these lands. Although he was certain there was someone in this tavern who knew him, he was equally certain they had all grown up and changed their appearance.

Loden scanned the room until his eyes fell upon a tanned young man in his early twenties. Given his appearance, chances were he was one of Brand's children and that made him a brother. The man was dark haired and appeared to possess a natural grace only a few, himself included are blessed with. He had similarly dark eyes, almost amber in color. He was clean shaven with his hair pulled back wearing a sand colored cloak. The ring in his ear, made Loden look twice as he'd only seen a few of the desert tribes wear these, then it dawned on him. This was the boy, Masef who was twelve years old when he left. He was 80% certain it was Masef and would speak with the young man to verify.

Then his eyes fell upon a trio at the back of the room, two young men and a young woman. The taller of the two men, looked familiar but could not place him. The shorter man, was still taller than Loden, maybe just under six foot with a lean muscular physique. His kind, soulful eyes reminded him of a boy he knew in his teens. Then it hit him, this was the kid who came to Brand's home in the last three years he lived there. He had previously lived with a monk and had an old soul. [i]'What was his name,' Loden throught to himself, 'Bey, Ron? Baron? something like that.'[/i] When he looked at the woman, he realized she was an elf which brought him back to the elven girl he once knew. He remembered nursing her back to health at one time. Although she was always shorter than him, today, she was about the same height. He recalled she was a very kind hearted sweet young girl who he really enjoyed being around. When he realized who it was, he shouted, "Ashira!" and moved as quickly through the crowd to the trio. As he got closer, a smile spread across his face, "Ashira!" he exclaimed at the group. "It's Loden, Loden Grimm.  I haven't seen you in ten years." He reached out and gave her a big hug.


[@NickTrano][@Naril][@Flagg][@R31GN][@AirBender][@HeySeuss][@poohead189]