On a time long ago, yea, e'en ere the third thousand-year age of mankind had begun, didst Orald of the Old Forest seek his home of ages past.
Long had he sojourned in the isle of the Celts, but ever did his heart yearn for the sea. Thus, on a certain day, didst Orald take to ship, and journey o'er sea e'en unto the utter West.
There, in that land which is in these latter days named América, didst Orald find once more his home of old.
Tall was he, and dark of hair. His shape was large, for though he was yet few in years as his kind accounted it, had Orald the rotund figure of one of later years. He laughed seldom, moved to tears on occasion, but yet remained at peace in that land wherefrom he once was birthed.
Orald's heart yet was young, and his thought turned seldom to matters of time yet to come, and didst Orald seek simple means of keeping his purse to filled. Of a time much after didst Orald take up servanthood to the twain masters of Sírs and Róbuc, and thusly did he toil for the wages therefrom he could gain.
Yea, still thither dost he toil, not unhappy yet ever unmindful of the many years yet before him in which only the Valar know what may befall. For yet there may come a time when needeth he yet greater sustenance than that which e'en now doth he receive.
Nonetheless is Orald sated, and frolics often in the gentle fields of TORn, where he doth find the joy he findeth not under his masters' yoke.
