DixieDemolisher

Life on the road is never easy, especially not for one such as Jorvin Sigvid who is, as a cave-dwarf, ultimately out of his element.

The story of how Jorvin ended up on the road starts with his birth. Born the son of Cave and Mountain dwarves, Jorvin was bound to experience to very different lifestyles growing up. His father was a merchant, a rich, notably eccentric merchant who spent much of his time beyond the borders of Dwarfdom, while his mother ran their store at home, in Kal'Tarak, as you would expect it was primarily his mother who he was raised from, while his father adventured off to the far corners of Atlas, selling his goods to anyone who would buy them, the roads were dangerous, especially in the early years, as such it was often he was not heard from for quite some time, but in every instance, the old man returned.

While the money flowed in, Jorvin was afforded a decent childhood, not as rich as the nobles, that was certain, but as far as commoners went? It was a decent life. At the age of ten however, tragedy stuck for the young Jorvin, and I’m sure you’ve heard /this/ story a thousand times. Boo hoo, his mother died! T’was a sad day indeed, but to sit around, and languish in sadness was hardly their way, and as such, Jorvin’s father Toren took responsibility for the boy, the shop, and the merchant caravan. A family friend was put in charge of their wares at home, while abroad, Jorvin joined his father in their travels.

It was an adventure, that much was certain.

Living out of a covered wagon was vastly different from a home in the mountains, it was not comfortable to the poor lad, Toren knew this as much as any, but he would see to it his son lived as best as he could on the road, affording the lad whatever books of lore and legends he could find to entertain him, while hiring educators in the form of his fellow adventurers to tutor his son for the hard life ahead. He was taught how to read and write by a kind, elderly woman of human origins, how to survive in the wilderness by a wood-elf scout, brought along to help protect the caravan. Most importantly, Jorvin was taught how to fight by his uncle, his brother’s older brother, and a veteran of the War of the Beards.

And fight he soon did, life on the road was not peaceful, and bandits constantly sought to rob the bountiful caravan of it’s goods before it made its way into town, and as Jorvin matured, he soon joined the guards employed by his father in protecting the goods and camp followers of their merry band. Thankfully, it was not often the drawing of a blade was actually required, as the mere sight of the mercenaries (and Jorvin of course) was enough to scare off any would-be-thieves.

And so, that was life for some time, it was not as terrible as it would seem. His uncle, and the mercenaries in the caravan prevented too grievous fights from occurring, while Jorvin was slowly but surely taught the ropes of the business by his father, in the hopes that he would one day take over, whatever free time he had was spent reading of ancient heroes and Paragons, such as Thorik Grandaxe, or the beyond-brave Urir and Kjell Irehearts, or of course, the wise Wordsmith, Valen Grandaxe.

Always a fan of history it was a dream of Jorvin to learn more, but unfortunately, such things were...Difficult on the road.

Everything changed when, on the journey back to Kal’Tarak from Caras Eldar, after years on the road, Jorvin Sigvid’s luck finally ran out. The caravan was accosted by some forty-odd bandits, and without Toren, who had vanished some years earlier, or the uncle, who fell fatally-ill two months prior, there was no hope of mounting a successful defense. Jorvin certainly tried, mind you, as did everyone else among the merchants, the mercenaries, and their families, but against an entire tribe of Highwaymen, success was not an option. The guards, Jorvin among them, bought time for the camp followers to escape into the wilderness, until finally succumbing to enemy numbers themselves, some surrendered, some died, and some ran, Jorvin, in the chaos was knocked unconscious, surely believed to be dead.

When he woke up, he was robbed of almost all he owned, but very much alive. With nothing but the clothes on his back, and anger in his belly, but very much alive. The business is gone, the shop at home having closed many years ago, but for the first time in his life? Jorvin was without obligations. He ran the his father’s business in honor of him, he trained with the guard in honor of his uncle, and he familiarized himself with whatever ancient legends he could in honor of his mother, so fond of reading them to him as a child, but now? Plenty of paths were open to him, with nothing to lose, and everything to gain, he intends to make his way to Kal’Tarak and make a name for himself, be it as a warrior, a merchant, or a scholar? He hardly knows yet, one could argue he’s hardly qualified for any of the three, that remains to be seen...