Marlon is my name. Marlon Harefield.
I come from the small village of Combe.
Combe lies in the Bree-land just at the outskirts of the village Bree.

Because of the things happened to me in the past I might appear to be cynical at times and not that bothered about others or much about anything at all. I tend to be over-sarcastic at times and I don´t really like people that much. It´s very hard for me to make new acquaintances and there are times that I really need my loneliness. But at the very same time I feel an urgent need to help people in need, who are weaker than myself. That feeling goes away quite fast usually though. And I even blame myself for having such a helpful thoughts afterwards.
I really enjoy the company of those who have won my trust, even if it doesn´t appear to be so at times.
I´ll tell you a short story, which might explain some things:


I was a dreamer ever since my childhood days. My parents, a humble and modest shepherds they were, always encouraged me when I was a small boy. They used to think that the simple life in Combe wasn´t nothing that dashing, so they thought it would be better for their son to keep dreaming about something better. And so I did. I was always playing some games where I was the hero or a some prince from some distant lands fighting against the evil in the world.

But just 2 weeks after I turned 16 everything suddenly changed. My parents and little brother were ambushed in Chetwood, by some ruthless mercenaries from the south, while they were collecting some mushrooms and berries for the winter. I saw it all, I was with them. I happened to be some 100 yards away from them, fighting with a huge log imaging the log as a some brutal orc or something like that. I heard screaming and laughter. I started to make my way closer to the voices and behind a stone I saw my family got killed by these vile mercenaries. After that one day I never touched a wooden sword again or played one of these heroics of mine.

A friendly villager called Seamus took me under his wings and raised me as his own. He also taught me the value of things, value of gold. He was no greedy man nor a bad man. He just happened to enjoy the value of items. He had this huge collection of things he had brought from his journeys across the Eriador. He also had lot´s of tales and stories he used to tell me by the fire at nights. I was in awe with his stories. I started to feel that this was the life I wanted to live.

But once again things turned for the worse. After one drunken night in the Combe inn I was making my way back to Seamus´ house. And saw it in fire. I ran inside i found Seamus on the stairs deadly wounded. He told me that it was the same Southerners that had killed my family that had attacked him in the dark hours of the night and pillaged his house.

That night I swore that I´d hunt those mercenaries down and revenge the death of my loved ones and keep the legacy and stories of Seamus alive.
The first part I did just few weeks after the death of Seamus. Did I make those savages pay!

After that I started to wander across Bree-land and soon even further away collecting valuables for myself for the name of Seamus.
Within my journeys I have came across to a bunch of good people, sharing my passion for the cause.

And that my friends, is a story that is to be written at the moment you are reading this...