Refson Unthar
Title:
Landowner; Master of the Farmer's Guild
Description:
Tall is the figure of this man, definetely one of the Northmen kin. Pale and bleached is the skin, almost sickly so. Veins run through like tentacles seeking hidden treasure -- at most places but vague lines of smeared blue, but at others clear and thin like lengthy needles 'neath the surface. No hair, not a single lengthy strand or gay curl, frames his stern face, nor is the latter obscured by a beard or the faintest stubble. Bald is the man, a clear sheen upon the perfectly shaven skull. The cheeks are slightly baggy, and his nose is of monstrous size. Bushy, dark-golden eyebrows partly hide his keen gaze, and the pair of cold eyes mirror the outside world like still, motionless pools of a treacherous blue.
The Northman's frame is broad, yet somewhat disproportionately so. Heavy he seems -- fat even, especially about the thighs and stomach -- and yet there is a notion of strength and wariness to his movements. The woollen cloak that enshrouds him is large, reaching his lower calves. Darkly grey is the thick garment, much like the rest of his attire consists of several shades of that very color: the tunic, the trousers, yes, probably even his underwear. Shining black boots adorn his feet, breaking the monotony of the sombre grey slightly.
History:
Year 3020 of the Third Age. Harsh is the winter in the lands of King Brand. Iach Celduin, a small village nigh the eaves of Mirkwood, lies covered in snow. It is there that a woman of questionable repute gives birth to her bastard son, drawing her last breath at the same moment the child draws his first. The midwife, an old and bitter spinster, had no wish for a child. Yet, her conscience was still intact, and she sought and found refuge for the squealing baby boy. A farmer, owning a small strip of land upon the edge of town, adopted him with few questions. The man, a stern and solemn fellow by the name of Reffsar Unthar, took him in, naming the boy Refson after himself. Love or kindness was not the self-proclaimed father's main motive however. In fact, he saw a cheap labour force in the lad, and rightly so...
Little upon fifteen years later, we find our friend Refson by the grave of Reffsar, bitter and weary beyond his count of years. No wonder, for the boy's youth had been one of constant work, from the moment his legs would bear him. One of beatings, sparse food and sleeping in the cold. Yet, at long last, the curse was lifted. No more tyrant to command him. He now owned a few fields, and a modest fortune, hidden by the stingy farmer beneath the floorboards of the small cottage.
And indeed, life did take a turn for the better. Another fifteen years later, we find the boy a man. A man owning most of the land around Iach Celduin, and more than a few of the town's businesses. The small fortune has grown into a large fortune, through good investments and -- so some say -- shady and corrupt dealings. Shrewd is his mind though, his nose smelling a lucrative deal a league away. Yet, despite his lust for more riches and profit, he is quite known to indulge in the pleasures of... life. No doubt to compensate for his harsh and sombre youth.
If we skip another five years, we even find he managed to betroth and wed one of the Girion kin, a young lass by the name of Isolde, barely twenty summers old no less. How he was able to broker such a "deal" with the royal family has been heavily speculated upon since. Sure, wealth he has and land he owns, and he profiles himself as one of the main benefactors of the numerous military campaigns of the glorious Northmen army, but still... he remains of mere common birth. Evil tongues say he holds some sway over Gelbard of Girion, decorated war veteran and the one who arranged and approved the marriage, the girl being his cousin once removed. However, these tongues are wise enough to hold their silence in presence of both the grizzled general and master Refson Unthar.
Armed with royal ties now, the bald landowner's influence and power has yet to wane, and he has clearly grown into a figure of significant importance in the sourthern dales of the Kingdom. This culminated in his appointment to the office of guildmaster of the Farmer's guild, giving him a tight control over the food production and distribution of the Kingdom. One wonders what goals this man has left to achieve? Whatever they may be, he might need to seek a new ally to hold his ground in higher circles, due to the recent, untimely demise of Lord Gelbard.
