Archangel_Styx

Deep within the mountains of the Highlands, past the borders of the Kingdom of Norland, lay a wood cabin. Here lived Behrtwold Stalherz, who was born to Torwynn and Rhea Stalherz in the year 1793 of the First Era on the 19th of the First Seed. He was not the first born, but he was the first one to survive the following months unlike his three siblings prior. The Stalherz settled as hermits after the migration to the new realm. Behrtwold would grow up knowing the pain brought upon them due to his family's lifestyle. Harsh winters and scarce resources reminded him that he could die any day. His father, Torwynn told him he wasn't old enough to go hunting with him, so his daily ritual revolved helping his mother with the daily chores. When Behrtwold was 5 years old, his mother Rhea gave birth to another boy, named Klauven.

The two boys grew together, forming a love and a bond that they knew was unbreakable. With love came rivalries over garnering father's attention. Behrtwold, now 10, was old enough to go hunting with his father. Behrtwold began to understand how the world worked. The deer ate the grass, they ate the deer, and eventually they would die and be food for the grass. His father showed him views he had never seen before, and during the spring of 1803, they took an annual month-long journey to civilization for resources. 

Torwynn was a fur and leather trader. He took what he could from his hunts for his family and sold the rest at markets in Varhelm. This time he brought his son with him. After 10 days of travelling down the mountain, they had finally arrived. Behrtwold had never seen so many people before. To him, the highest point in the world was upon his father's shoulders... and yet there were people seemingly much bigger than he. The buildings also astounded Behrtwold, colossal towers of stone ornate with banners of red and black surrounded them. In the distance, upon a half frozen sea, were ships much more massive than the toys that his mother carved for him when he was younger. 
 

As soon as they arrived however, they left. Days had passed and Behrtwold dreamt every night of Varhelm. On the 3rd day while travelling, he asked his father, "Why do we live all by ourselves? Why not join all the other people?" His father looked at him with a brash disgust on his face.

"Not another word son, before the cold bites it from your throat." He snapped. 

The following winter was one of the worst that family had experienced. It snowed, and snowed, and no amount of preparation or fur trades would have saved them. It didn't stop snowing for a whole week before Torwynn forbid anyone from leaving the cabin, in fear that it would sap the heat from inside and life would become worse. After 2 weeks they ran out of wood to burn, and resorted to using old clothes and toys. After another 2 days, those too ran out. 

Another week passed, and the snow hadn't relented. Torwynn and Rhea didn't eat for 3 days, opting to let their kids enjoy the meals instead, much to Torwynn's disagreement. Then, the food and water ran out. Behrtwold and Klauven knew something was wrong between their parents. Father hadn't said anything to either them or their mother in days, and mother would let out soft cries in the night when she thought the children were sleeping. All of them were worried. Except father. 

Father had started laughing hysterically. His breath catching in his beard and crystallizing. It was at that point that father grabbed his hunting knife and began charging at Behrtwold and Klauven, swinging his knife arm in the air ready to strike at them. Mother stood her ground between them and they began yelling nasty words and wrestling over the knife, that was flung out to the side. 

Rhea slapped Torwynn, and he retaliated with a jutted elbow. She screamed out in pain as Torwynn continued to strike her. Fade to black as both Klauven and Behrtwold were crying out at their father to stop which only garnered more hatred from him. Behrtwold was stricken with horror that his father would do such a thing. Six year old Klauven however had noticed the knife that had been flung from father's hands. 

Torwynn felt cold. Colder than he had before in any winter. This cold ran deep, deep from within. It was his knife that had been lodged into him by his own son, the son that he wanted to eat. He then felt that cold turn to numbness, and he let the numbness fade to black. 

The snow had stopped, and Klauven and Behrtwold buried their parents. After not eating anything for 3 days and being left on their own, they joined each other in a simple hunt for small wild life-- had any still existed around them. The following years would be a challenge for them, having to figure a lot of things out on their own. Too scared to make the journey to town by themselves. Too scared that something worse than what had happened to their father might await them. 

Four long, harsh years had passed, and Klauven had fell ill with an ailment that had made him weak, and feverous. Behrtwold would have to bury his younger brother as well. He knew this, and he knew that there was nothing he could do about it.  

In Year 4 of the Second Age, before he had become a man, Behrtwold had laid to rest every one of which he had called family. 

On the day of his passing, Klauven had asked Behrtwold to continue living for him. To travel the world knowing that he would still be with him in his heart. 

"Brother" he said.

"You're strong, big brother. I know you can live for the both of us. Live a good life. For both of us." 

After months of preparation, Behrtwold set off on exploring the world.