Bradán, Chieftain of Dunland

At birth, Bradán was no one's likelier candidate for chief. Born as the second son to a young couple of fisherman, Bradán's childhood was unremarkable, to say the very least. Making their home in the banks of a minor watercourse within the lowlands of Dunland, the small family was inconsequential to the outside world, whether for their lack of wealth or for the friendly terms they were on with the nearby communities, the small aggregate lived peaceful, quiet lives, oblivious to the outside world.

Starting on his sixth birthday, Bradán's father, Brannas, began to teach his young son the family trade. On the following years, Bradán would be taught how to fish with both net and harpoon on the shallows of the stream by his home. Albeit not being a very productive net-fisherman - due to his impatience and rashness - the youth made for a more-than proficient killer with a harpoon, not only due to his unusual strength but also to his flawless accuracy. It did not take him long for Brannas to acknowledge, and indeed attempt to diversify, his child's skills by taking Bradán to the nearby forests to hunt. This he did more out of necessity than for to give use to his son's capabilities with a javelin; life as a fisherman, although peaceful, was not bountiful and when Winter pressed harder than usual, a new, alternative source of food was required. Even despite his father's relative incompetence in training him for hunt on land, Bradán made for a fairly competent huntsman in the woods, he fell his first deer by age ten, and his first boar before his thirteenth birthday. When his fifteenth year came around, Bradán was as much a lethal hunter on land as he was on water and his father Brannas - much thanks to his sons - could now support his children easily through even the harshest of Winters.

But alas, this plentiful life was not to last. The politics of Dunland - if we can call "politics" to the never-ending skirmishing between clans - were ever-changing and so, it did not take long for a less-than-friendly tribe to take up residence nearby the family home. Their attack came quickly enough, swift and brutal, and by the end, both of Bradán's parents were dead, taking with them his older brother who had tried to take up arms against the attackers in defense of his mother. The remaining siblings managed to make for the nearby woods, just nearly so. They left in a rush, the attackers closely trailing their steps but, with Bradán's knowledge of the woodland, they managed to evade their would-be captors, vanishing between the trees virtually unscathed with some mere, shallow scars to show for it. What came next was pure, overwhelming uncertainty. The siblings returned the next day to the house, only to find it scourged beyond recognition, most of the fishing equipment was gone - bar for some javelins and harpoons Bradán managed to salvage - and so were the hunting supplies as well. Their parents and brother were torched skeletons, left to rot under the sky. As they buried the remains of their family, the young orphans were now left with an utter sense of emptiness; their home was gone, as were their parents and any means they might have relied upon to sustain themselves, their lives were on shambles.

Naturally it fell to Bradán to lead the remaining of his siblings, he was now the eldest, the best hunter - whether on land or on water - and, although neither of the siblings could wield any sort of weapon, Bradán was the only one who could lethally hurl a javelin, making him the most capable "fighter" among them. Leaving their ruined home behind, Bradán, his brothers and his sister headed north, seeking refuge among some of the towns of the Dunlendings there. It would seem however, than any village they passed was reticent to take up a band of teenagers with near-to-no skills in their midst. So many were the rejections that soon enough the siblings gave up, finding themselves wandering the wilderness once again.

With Winter soon approaching and with no food resources to hold them through it, Bradán took his siblings to the North-South Road that traversed Dunland and prepared them to the only thing he hoped would save them at the time, they were going to raid a caravan. They soon found a lightly-armored escort that would make for a fitting target and so, during the dead of night, they ambushed the sleeping travelers. The victory came with relative ease, the merchants were caught off-guard and those that did rise to defense were almost as inexperienced as the siblings themselves. By the end the teens were victorious and the caravan's protectors were dead. Their attack was such a success that they decided to do it again the next day, and then again, and again; by the forth assault, even though they did not even need the goods to scrap a living through the Winter, the siblings had already made their minds on a career as marauders.

As their first year on the road draw to a close, and with Winter beyond their backs, the siblings found themselves in a rather secure position. In the mean time since leaving home, they had became better and better at hit-and-run attacks against travelers; they had built themselves a reputation in the nearby villages that ensured they were not trifled with and above all, they had grown into master javelin throwers, a skill that made them able to inflict critical damage against an opponent while doing so from a relatively safe distance. Their raids became more and more frequent, albeit never against the bigger, better-armed caravans, and they were usually able to take down a caravan in one fell swoop, whether by day or by night. Those they did not managed to take out in one go, were worn down until they were weak enough to take head-on.

During their third year since they had left their home, the siblings - by this point already renowned for their material possessions they got from raiding - received the first recruits to their cause, two twins from a nearby village that made for more-than capable archers. To these two many soon followed, attracted by the promise of easy, even if not-so-licit, gains. The first few were mostly inexperienced youths, looking for some place to call their own, but soon enough they found there was another type of marauder looking to join their ranks, these recent-joins were actual warriors of Dunland, men that, for a reason or another, had fallen into hard times and were looking for a way out. These the siblings eagerly welcomed, and proceeded to learn and train with them for combats to come. In the space of a few months Bradán finally learned how to wield a proper axe and, as the years passed by, he found himself quite proficient in this, much thanks to his natural strength, allied to which came an agility not commonly found.

By the age of 25, Bradán was able to defeat any member of his band, and what a band it had become. Now numbering thirty and growing, that once small assembly of bandits had almost became a full-fledged tribe, able to take down even the most protected of caravans. Bradán was their uncontested leader, he would have it no other way, and the remaining members listened to, and indeed obeyed, to every command he issued. He was a proper chieftain now. As chief then, he decided it to be the best time to settle down his fledgling tribe; and what better place to do so than the grounds of his old home?

The tribe that had first displaced the siblings and murdered their parents had long-left by then, probably after being defeated themselves, and their successors were fortunately not quite as gifted. For a combat-hardened tribe such as his, these new occupants were a mere pushover, he settled his tribe among the bygone ruins of his home and prepared to make his life there.

By this point the only thing he was missing was a wife, as well as sons to carry on his blood. To this, the response came from the most unexpected place that could be. Boadikea was the chieftess of her own tribe, a woman as ruthless and unpredictable as Bradán himself. The woman agreed to marry him only after he proved himself worthy by being the only one capable of besting her in combat. She would go on to join her numbers to his and, most importantly, to give birth to his first son and heir that same year. Boadikea and would still gift Bradán with two more children over the next four years, first a boy by the name of Hudok and then a girl called Antia.

Aged 32 now, Bradán is among the most powerful chieftains in Dunland, commanding an army of fierce warriors and marauders. Albeit being now capable of encroaching proper armies head-on, Bradán still much prefers his original hit-and-run tactics against unprepared opponents as means to inflict greater damage for the tiniest losses. Able to realize swift and brutal attacks, only to vanish among the hills and forests of Dunland afterwards, Bradán has built himself quite the reputation throughout the land, his enemies going as far as to call him the "ghost of Dunland".