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Grufmier the Scout

My name is Grufmier. The Scout some call me too; although old Ambrigon, may his shade rest, was particularly fond of the sobriquet "... The thick headed."
I was named for my father's maternal grandfather. Seems he had a strong bond with the old man and never quite got over the feeling that he had abandoned his kin to move in closer to the town of the menfolk. Apparently soldiering is not a profession held in high regard by the other small folk.
At any rate, he got to do his soldiering and then some. By all reports he was a talented fighter and Imposing in his skill at arms. By the time I knew him he was a quiet, melancholy hobbit; used up and broken by the things he had been through in the wars. So it was that it fell to my mother to do much of my raising; and old Ambrigon too.
Ambrigon was already elderly by the time I met him and would grow to ancient in the balance of the time I had the fortune to call him my friend. He had been a real life Ranger in the service to some order or other, he never did tell me which. He lived a ways outside of town in the deep part of the woods that I wandered whenever this or that chore did not require my attention. Our meeting is a yarn for another time but suffice it to say that I did what I could to lend my strong shoulders and youthful energy to ensuring he had a steady supply of firewood and a clean home. In return he taught me all he was willing to share about the way of the wild places. How to move quietly in the deep forests. How to keep my way and not become lost. How to stalk the roe deer, where to find sweet water and useful herbs. What animals lived where and how to walk through their realm and not be seen as an interloper.
The trade of arms Ambrigon taught me as well. How to pull a bow and how to swing a blade (Although the large unwieldy swords of men were ever a clumsy thing for me). Deeper knowledge he possessed too but was ever reluctant to share with me. Of this spring I only ever tasted but a trickle.
So here I stand before you now. Grufmier, outwardly my father's son with his shaggy brown hair and ruddy face, his meloncholy too I fear. I have my mothers hazel eyes and bookish tendencies. Ambrigon, however is the father of my heart, and to him I owe the most.
I now seek employ. I am a good scout, a decent hunter and a passable fighter. I would put these skills to use to do my part, however big or small, to set The Kingdom back to rights.

Scout Grufmier

Advisor Description

Andromiel, now that is a story worth telling. I had grown up on an unhappy farm,as far as I knew, the only child my parents ever sired. Imagine my surprise when not too long after Ma died being accosted by a female hobbit while browsing the wares being hawked at the market. She was older than me, about eight years older. Taller too. With auburn hair and full cheeks lined as much by laughing as by time spent under the sun without a hat.
"Are you Grufmier by chance?" She asked without preamble or excuse
"I may be." Says I. "Who's doing the asking? She laughed then, a high sound like the tinkling of bells, the smile on her lips spreading to her eyes. She had sad eyes just like Father, except when she laughed. When she laughed Andromiel's eyes danced like candles.
"You must be." She said, dismissing my suspicion as ridiculous. "You look just I as I had imagined you from fathers letters. He loved you you know."
"Loved me? You must be mistaking me for someone else." I said. "I only ever had one father and mine never showed much interest in me. He was too busy… "
"You're wrong about that." She interrupted. "Our father loved you very much. He had high hopes for you. He may not have been able to express it to you but he told me. You were the son he had dreamt of when he was a young man. Before all the… well, you know."
At this point I had begun to turn on my heel. I was not sure who this woman was, and I admit there was indeed more than a passing resemblance to my father but it was too much to process at once. The mind rebels at what it cannot comprehend and I was ever so sure she was simply out to seperate me from some of my hard won gold.
"Perhaps m'lady, you can tell me of a large treasure you need to transport if only I can be of service to pay the port duties it can be split between us down the middle!" I spat. "Good day! I think n--"
"He was relieved when you became friend with the old Ranger."
I stopped dead in my tracks.
"Ambrigon was it? He was jealous of the old man to be sure. However he was also happy you found someone to be the mentor to you that he could not be."
It started slowly from there with much pigheaded suspicion on my part and long suffering patience on hers but over the next several days I learned Andromiel's story. How my father had sired her on a pretty farm girl while on campaign somewhere in one of the endless wars. How he had provided for them what he could spare by way of extra coin. How he had kept a regular if infrequent correspondence with his daughter far away and how he had insisted she remain otherwise an orphan lest his legal wife be caused pain by his youthful indiscretion.
Her mother (Laugh) passed on and with no other prospects and my mother in the ground she decided to come here to seek this brother she had heard so much about. I came to find Andromiel to be clever, funny and full of information about the world outside this town, having traveled far and long to reach me. I also desired her knowledge of our father. A man I had lived beside but knew little about. She, having never laid eyes on the man nonetheless had a keen insight into his mind and heart. Between the two of us we figured we may yet get a whole picture of who he was.
Since this starting we have become close I would venture. Not as close as siblings raised Sid by side but I trust her, and that is the important thing.

Grufmier the Scout Post Play & MMORPG RPG Text

Reflections On Your Mother

Mother. Poor, shrunken sickly mother. Your deserved better. I still remember the time I told you that I didn't believe father was worthy of you. How pained the look in your eyes were as you told me that I didn't understand the full truth, who he was before. I remember he wracking coughs… and the blood. Blood that I wiped from your chin as you lay growing weaker by the minute. You wee my protector. You were the one who opened the world to me through those books.
"There's more to this wide world than the woods outside our door." You told me. You were right. I imagine you were right about my father too. If what Andromiel says is true there is much more to him than what I imagined. I still don't know if I can forgive him though. Bearing witness to his mothers last tortured breaths is no job fit for a son.
Even so, I miss you. Our talks on the nature of things. On the duties of a man. The way your eyes would light up with utter joy each time I took interest in something and you would run to the small bookshelf. "I have just the text for that." If I have any discipline of the mind it's I. Thanks to you.
I miss you.

Scout Grufmier

How silly I was to think I could make a difference. Grufmier the king? Pah! I have tried so very hard to make a difference here for the better of the realm. Alas, this place is welcome to its own devices. One of my kind will never be accepted as anything but what I am; an orphan halfling. So back to the woods I will go. Deeper into the woods I will go and there get what wages I can whether they be sparkling gold or a hare for the pot. Let the menfolk see to there own intrigues and adventures.