(I am posting this here and asked the version in "races of middle earth" to be removed).
The great thing about Hobbits is that they can't live to be 6,000 years old and thus, their bios are much shorter than elves lol...
Character Name: Bradimac "Brady" Hornblower
Race: Hobbit (Hairfoot - Hornblower, Fallohide - Brandybuck)
Nationality: Born in the Shire. Raised primarily in Buckland and Longbottom.
Home: Hornblower Hall, Longbottom. The Shire.
Though they are seen by some in Hobbit society to be too pastoral to be considered as what passes for Hobbit aristocracy, as the scion of Hornblower Hall and the de-facto manager of the vast Hornblower Pipe Weed plantations, Bradimac has access to the finest comforts a gentlehobbit could hope for. But while the young Hornblower enjoys fine clothing, he is just as comfortable (and likely to be seen) in simple travelling or working clothes.
Brady Hornblower is a respectable young gentlehobbit from a long renowned family. While he has inherited a staunch work ethic and traditional hobbit sensibilities from his father’s side of the family, his rather slender frame (for a Hobbit), fair countenance, and sandy blonde hair, belie the strong fallohide strain inherited from his Brandybuck mother. Another trait passed down from his mother is an almost wistful imagination that he has dutifully toiled to suppress, as it would be unseemly for a Hobbit of his stature to entertain such fanciful notions when there is hard work and respectably common pleasures aplenty right outside his own door.
He stands a good four feet tall, outstripping his father by three inches in height, but his dark-haired father makes up those four inches (and adds countless more) in the girth of his more typical Hornblower belly. Brady is normally dressed in fine clothes befitting his station, but he is not above pulling on the overalls and work clothes of a mere farm hand when extra hands are needed. Although working in the hot pipe-weed fields is hard work, and he is not obliged to partake in it, he finds the task rather enjoyable, himself being interested in and knowledgeable of all things that grow in the ground.
The Hornblower clan is a well-known family; they are seen by many of their northern brethren to be a more rustic folk, their business quite naturally entailing that they work closely with many simple farm hands and even strange foreigners. The young Brady though, has been brought up every inch the benevolent country gentlehobbit, soft-spoken and well dressed. His childhood was spent as much in Buckland as Hornblower Hall in Longbottom, but he considers himself Southfarthing born and bred. The Hornblowers take pride in the fact that their pipe-weed is the finest in Middle Earth, and Brady is no exception to this. Only the few who know him extremely well notice the ever growing yet unconsciously restless glint in his rare blue eyes.
Born into the Hornblower family, a descendent of the world famous (Shire famous) Tobold Hornblower, Brady Hornblower more resembles his mother’s kin of distant Buckland. He is the eldest son of, Harley Hornblower of Longbottom and Emelia Brandybuck of Brandy Hall. He has three older sisters, two of whom are married with children of their own and one younger brother (who he hopes will someday take over the farms). A very wealthy family, most of the Hornblowers live in a good-sized barrow in the secluded and terraced vale of Longbottom. While not as extensive as Tuckborough or Brandy Hall, Hornblower Hall is indeed the most extensively delved and opulent dwelling in the Southfarthing (a continuing annoyance to the nearby Sackville-Bagginses.)
As a child, Brady was often long on holiday with his mother, siblings, and some of his cousins in Buckland, and still counts many of his kin from that region as dear friends. His father, however, nearly constantly remained in the Southfarthing with Brady’s uncles and elder cousins, (one of whom is the Mayor of Longbottom, Brumble Hornblower), only leaving for auctions and social events that required his appearance. Even then he would soon return to Longbottom as soon as propriety would allow. A fact that is held in secret by the Hornblower family is that the rotund head of the house works so hard that he went through many years subsisting on only three meals a day!
Two years ago, soon after Brady’s coming of age birthday, Harley Hornblower suffered from a debilitating stroke. He survived however, and while his mind is yet clear, he has lost virtually all ability to speak and much of his mobility. He was, of course, forced to give up the daily supervision and operation of the plantations, and that duty has now passed on to his eldest son Brady. Harley still dwells in relative comfort deep within Hornblower Hall, cared for by his loving wife. Ostensibly he is still the head of the house, but for all intensive purposes all who dwell in Hornblower Hall now look to Bradimac for day to day decisions. Through it all Brady has accepted his duty with honor and gratitude for his beloved father and family. He still relies a good deal on the irreplaceable council of his father and uncles, but though he is young, he possesses uncommon wisdom and Shire renowned Hobbit-sense. He is a competent administrator, shrewd negotiator, and most agree that he has all the makings of a true Hornblower patriarch. The good Hobbits of Longbottom are relieved at their fortune in Bradimac’s qualities, as the ever competitive Sackville-Bagginses, who own many plantations outside of Longbottom, are becoming more and more of an economic threat.
With such pressures on the family, young Brady has little time to think of his own dreams. If he did he would no doubt lament his current station, despite all the benefits that it brings, for in Brady’s chest beats the restless heart of the Fallohide of old. He is both Hornblower and Brandybuck, traditional and imaginative. In the dark of night, tucked comfortably in the feather bed of his well appointed bedroom, somewhere in the realms between waking and sleep, he wonders if there is not more to life than work and comfort. Invariably he pushes those queer thoughts aside and seeks the solace of slumber, if only to dream the dreams of kings and elves.