Eden Erenford

Eden is the second-born son of Arlan Erenford. He has been Lord of his house since early 435, following a succession of tragedies within the Erenford family.

Appearance and Character
He stands taller than average at 6'2", with a lean, but broad-shouldered build. Several years ago he would've been described as athletic, strong, and even a little handsome, but recently Eden Erenford gives the appearance of a haunted man. A tired, weary posture, an ever paler complexion, and a gaunt face usually overgrown with a thick dark beard make him look ten years past his age. His eyes are lit with a trapped intelligence, like that of a man whose mind devours itself when denied some worthwhile purpose or passion.

Generally speaking, Eden does not like to talk to other people or be around them. He exudes despair, and when forced by duty to go out into the world, a corrosive spectre just follows him everywhere and engulfs whatever place he comes into. Nevertheless there are times when the new Lord will suddenly find life breathed back into him by an interminable current of energy springing forth from a source unknown, allowing him to somehow thwart his nature and come across sociable, even charming.

Childhood
Eden's early childhood didn't differ too much from the experience typical of other second sons of highborn families. His personality and temperament were shaped in part by the fact that with every passing year he grew more and more acutely aware of the uncertainty looming over his future as someone who stood to inherit nothing. In some ways this was a self-imposed anxiety, but whatever the case, he chose to escape this by pouring himself into his studies and reading voraciously from a young age.

From the beginning Eden excelled as a student. He worked diligently to learn as much as he could and seemed to have an innate appreciation for the value of an education. He proved himself a talent at math and machines, and constantly sought to understand things on a mechanical level. How do you put this? He wanted to be capable of things. He wanted to know that if you put him in a room with some tools and some materials, he could eventually come out of it with a creation. At times he would imagine himself without his name and without his bed in the castle, without his parents or his brothers, or the servants. Take away all that and you get a clearer picture of yourself. Eden sensed this truth early on in life.

All this is not to say that Eden was bereft of interests beyond his books and lessons. In their spare time, his brothers, Brynden and Elyas, would spend hours in the castle courtyard sparring, practicing swordplay. Eden had little desire to join them in this. The way he saw it, a man could spend years mastering the sword, becoming its ultimate practitioner, a veritable artist of death, only to walk out onto the battlefield and simply be shot. Eden never had visions of himself as any kind of great warrior, but he knew that when it came down to it, he wanted to be able to put an arrow through a man's body if the need should ever arise.

It was slow learning for him. He didn't have a natural talent for archery, and it took many hours of practice day in and day out before he gained anything close to proficiency. He got there, though, and eventually began to join his father and brothers regularly on hunts in the western forests.

Becoming heir
In the twelfth month of 434, Eden's older brother, Brynden Erenford, returned from fighting against the Warsmiths in the southern reaches of the Riverlands. It was noon when the wagon conveying Brynden pulled in through the castle gates and rolled to a stop in the wagon parking area. Eden was nearby, tending to his birds, and was the first of his family to notice his brother's return.

Brynden sat on the edge of the wagon bed, his feet hanging just an inch off the ground. Strange, thought Eden. He'd expected his brother to come in on the back of some trotting horse, all grand and glory. Eden didn't go up to him immediately, and instead just watched him from about 20 yards away. Brynden was sitting on a pile of straw, staring down at his feet, holding a melon-sized rock in his lap. He didn't just hold the rock, but seemed to cradle it with one hand and caress it lightly with the other while he stared off into space. Eden watched him do this for about three whole minutes.

He heard the wagon-driver explain it to his father and mother. Brynden had been wounded on the battlefield. Someone had thrown a heavy rock at Brynden. The rock struck him directly in the head and then tumbled down into his lap.

"I saw the whole thing happen." Said the driver. "I'm amazed he's not dead. That rock knocked him out cold but it bounced off his head into his hands, which sort of just latched onto it and wouldn't let go. He aint spoke a word since he woke up. Doesn't respond to his name, neither. He just lugs around that rock all day. It's got a big red stain on it, where it hit him."