Sigvald, Riverwarden

Thu Jun 21, 2018 11:51 am

Sigvald
Guild bowman of House Riven

Figures burst through the tree line panting and wide eyed. Their simple clothing torn by thorns, they plow through underbrush with reckless abandon. A second group moves behind them just as reckless but driven by hunger not fear. Twisted dark figures chase the survivors of the lumber camp as they race toward the sound of the river nearby. As they clear the last copse of trees they catch sight of a ship, its proud white sails coasting it downstream gracefully. They redouble their efforts shouting as much as their ragged breath will allow. One of them tumbles his old limbs not as able as his fellows, his white hair smeared with mud. He rolls to see one of the dark figures looming over him with a crude blade, it’s face leering with a sickly tongue dangling from a drooling mouth. As the blade rises the man can only hold up his arms futilely to protect himself.

The Goblin is thrown back violently by the impact of a heavy dark arrow. The survivors and attackers together hesitate, searching. A figure stands on the bow of the river ship notching another arrow into a great bow. The ship’s course drifts close to the shore as sailor’s beckon the woodsmen from the deck. The weary group helps up the old man as another Goblin rushes in only to fall down clutching a fletched shaft protruding from it’s neck. The survivors race to the water and leap without hesitation into the water. One by one shafts fly into the pursuers. Few of the attackers try to follow into the waters and the ones who do are shortly floating down current still and lifeless.

Before long the last heaving survivor is brought on board and panic gives way to joy as the soaked figures catch their breath. “Th-thank you!” one wheezes. The figure from the bow of the ship cocks his head their way. He stands tall, dressed in rich cloth and heavy pelts. A handsome clean shaven face dominated by piercing hazel eyes tastefully accented by Khol. A thin silver circlet tames thick curly blonde hair. The man grins broadly “Welcome aboard the Goldberry, on behalf of trading house Riven me and my men are at your service.” The woodcutters look about to speak before being cut short. An animalistic screech cuts the air, the survivors cringe instinctively. On the shore one of the figures still boldly stands while the rest flee, the largest of his group he stands defiant. His cry an unmistakable challenge as his hate filled eyes lock with the bowman. With a grin the bowman notches another arrow and draws on the Goblin, “Welcome to the age of man.” he gives a mirthless chuckle as he looses his shot.

   Sigvald remembers the time before the death of smaug grimly. Under the shadow of the dragon the lives of many in lake town suffered. His mother often said they were once a great people descended from heroes and wise lords but he hadn’t ever believed it. His father had been a rough man who had made enemies easily and ended up floating in the lake when Sigvald was still young. With three children to care for Sigvald’s mother did what she had to in order to ensure they didn’t go hungry. Sigvald remembers these years vividly but has never spoken of them. The only blessing they had was that his two siblings were too young to understand what their mother did each night to survive. Unfortunately it didn’t take long before she too fell victim to the cruelty of laketown's seedy side and Sigvald became the head of their household.

  Through toil and grit he carved out an acceptable life for his siblings but it was a miserable existence for him serving men he did not respect. He shielded his brother and sister from his feelings but deep down inside he was filled with rage. Anger for the corrupt lake town master, anger for the damn dragon Smaug and for a whole corrupt world that had destroyed his family. When Smaug fell from the sky and the call went out for able bodied men to follow bard to the lonely mountain Sigvald answered readily. He was going to finally take back from the world that wronged him. He happily fought against elf and dwarf for the part they played in the dismal life of lake town, perhaps if they weren’t so greedy things would be different. That was when the orcs arrived and he saw true evil. At first he fired at the orcs out of necessity as just another enemy, but when he saw the bravery of elf and dwarf and how they mourned their fallen he understood who the true enemy had always been. Perhaps it wasn't only the men of Laketown who had suffered.

In the aftermath of the battle when Bard became king of Dale and dragon gold began to rebuild lake town as a true city, Sigvald was transformed. Before he had been a bitter angry man but now he lived in a world of opportunity. For the first time the stories his mother had told of ancient brotherhood and heroes seemed possible. He also saw men like Bard who had remade the world to fit their will and Sigvald swore he would do the same. Many men of Lake town were determined to become the backbone of the new Esgaroth including Sigvald’s uncle who founded a trading house with nothing more than a handful of leaky boats. Without hesitation Sigvald swore himself to his family venture. He eagerly joined Riven house voyages down river to see the world and shape a better future for himself and his siblings.

  In the years since his family has quickly amassed a fortune, the rash courage of him and his cousins have secured his house trade routes others were too slow to exploit. Their shabby fleet has grown to become a respectable sight up and down the rivers. Their heroic defense against the dangers of the wild has helped them earn a name. Where once he had hunted to fill empty bellies, now Sigvald hunts beasts that a decade ago had preyed on his kinsmen and drove them to cower in their homes. Many proud trophies now grace the Riven trading house walls as proof to trading partners of their virility in a still dangerous world. No trophy is as precious as the only one he didn't claim himself. Sigvald is working on his personal boat The Excursionist, its mast head a carved snarling dragon head adorned with one single true dragon tooth. Plucked from the lake after Smaug died Sigvald considers it his totem, proof heroes exist.

   Fortunes have been good for him but Sigvald remembers a great deal his siblings do not. He is troubled by the thought that fortunes can wane as quickly as the grow. His uncle and cousins have proven loyal kin but often Sigvald feels his voice goes unheard. He sees in Bard a lesson, wealth is good but position is the true foundation of a better life. He hungers for title, one that will ensure his brother and sister do not go without. As a veteran of the Battle of Five Armies and a member of the guild of Bowmen he has proven himself to others but not himself. With each journey down the river Sigvald sees himself rolling the dice on life. Perhaps this time he will find his fortune, his opportunity. And while others see the shadow rising in the world, he has seen what men of bold nature can do, with fellowship he truly believes there will be victory against the darkness. He sees men in other lands who live like the men of laketown once did. One black arrow ended the evil of a region, perhaps another elsewhere can do the same.

   Trade has taken him to the far south and all along the lands of the middle men but he always treasures the journey into the quiet parts of middle earth the most. His profitably trips to trade with the hobbits of the shire show him a world he hadn’t thought possible while Smaug lived. He feels he should resent them their easy carefree lives but instead he sees in them what mankind could become when the fighting is finally over. With each trade negotiation and expedition brought home safe Sigvald feels more like one of those ancient lords of man from his mother’s stories. While others feel the light is dimming Sigvald refuses to, he will either tame the wilds or die trying. To him all that matters is that when his death comes it won't be facedown in the lake unmourned. He will die with his bow in his hands and perhaps a crown on his head.

Fri Jun 22, 2018 12:03 am

Very nice!

Sigvald, Riverwarden

Sigvald, Riverwarden

Re: Sigvald, Riverwarden