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Ealstan
Ealstan Applethorn
| Name | Ealstan |
|---|---|
| Status | Active |
| Occupation | Retired Woodsman |
| Age | Getting on in his years |
| Race | Man |
|---|---|
| Residence | Combe |
| Kinship |
| Outward Appearance | A relatively tall man, perhaps just surpassing six foot and reasonably muscled as one can expect from a man who makes his living either chopping wood or dealing with irritable wildlife. What is likely the most readily apparent thing about Ealstan is his rather clearly advanced age. With hair long since turned grey and a face worn by years of the realities of life. This is not to say he looks weak or vulnerable, in fact the opposite. While he may be past his prime, he is by no means withering away. His face is mayhaps not one a person would consider handsome, nor is it one a person would consider ugly. Perhaps in his youth the answer would be different, but that is many years ago now. |
|---|
Background
A man of Combe born vaguely fifty or so winters ago, he stopped keeping track when he reached the sixteenth one... or was it the seventeenth one? Regardless. Ealstan was born to a mother and to a father who would fall afoul of a rather nasty fever and passed a year into his sons life. There after he was raised by his mother, Anne Applethorn, and grew into his teens the way most boys do, getting into constant trouble and the general foolishness that is healthy for young men.
After his mother's eventual passing, Ealstan slowly settled and started work at the Combe lumber camp, a profession he holds to this day and, even though it may be blowing his own trumpet, has become damned good at.
Other than that he's lead a rather quiet life save for dealing with the occasional bear, boar, wolf and brigand as one tends to do in the Chetwood.
| Friends | There are few he would consider friend. Though he'd state Brynleigh as one if he was pressed. |
|---|---|
| Relatives | A distant cousin but not much else. |
| Rivals/Enemies | None that haven't been dealt with in ages past or have moved on with their lives. |
| Loves | No-one. Though he is partial to a roaring fire, fresh boar steak and big mug of mead. |
|---|---|
| Hates | Ruffians, troublemakers, southerners and other such folk who cause little but harm in Bree. |
| Motivation | Continue living his life in Bree as he has done for several decades at this point. |
| Quotes | "Oh bother." Said after accidentally cutting down a tree only for it to fall onto a section of the ruined wall close to the entrance of the Chetwood. |
