Bearslayer

[ferdaboy 1593]

 

Sigmar Baruch atop his steed in the Westerwald

 

 

Deep within the Westerwald, amidst towering mountains and sweeping valleys lay the untrodden lands of Valwyck. These lands remained uninhabited for long due to the harsh winter that plagued the Kingdom for many years. Yet, as the icy clutches of winter loosened, , Sigmar rallied the banners of the Greyguard and set on to claim what was his by birthright, the Duchy of Valwyck.

 

The journey was arduous, challenging even for the hardiest souls of Ayr. Despite the biting cold, nor the relentless terrain, Sigmar and his men continued, unimpeded by the harsh wilderness. Driven by visions of a home for his people, where the soil was rich and the possibility to elevate the house from its stagnant plight, they pressed on. As the expedition ventured deeper, the air grew colder, and the maze of shadows and whispers among the trees grew more and more treacherous. The loss of a man a day became a grim ritual, though it did not deter the resolve engrained within Sigmar, nor his younger brother, Ser Garen whom was never more than an arm's reach away from his brother. 

 

“Are we there yet?” asked the Ser

 

“For the third time today, nay, we must press on.” Sigmar replied, his eyes never leaving the path ahead.

 

“How long then?” Garen pressed.

 

“Not much longer.” he answered, surveying the towering trees before him. 

 

 

“We’ll camp here.” the eldest son of Ayr called out, his voice cutting through the eerie stillness of the forest. As their retinue meandered to a halt, Garen’s eyes wandered the baren, frosted-over clearing in which he found himself.

 

“The beasts in the Westerwald make for good furs.” remarked Garen nonchalantly as he hitched his 

horse to a nearby tree.

 

“Is that so?” he replied, “Have you not enough furs already?”

 

“Aye.” Garen replied, “But I wish to make a cloak for someone.” At that, Sigmar’s face broke into a knowing grin.

 

“Then let us ensure she has the finest cloak in all the land. Fetch your bow and spear; tonight, we hunt.”

 

 

An artist’s depiction of Sigmar’s final battle, based off of Garen’s recollection of the events

 

Hours passed as the two tracked a set of paws through the underbrush, following the faintest trails of snapped twigs here, or a tuft of fur there. The cold air was crisp, biting at the skin, yet their spirits were alight with the thrill of the hunt.

 

Suddenly, the forest erupted into chaos. A deep and thunderous roar nearly shook the two men off of their feet. There, in a clearing bathed in moonlight, stood a behemoth. A bear of unprecedented size, its fur as dark as the night itself, lay its knowing gaze upon the party. It had found its next meal. Without hesitation, Sigmar charged the creature, spear in hand. The bear roared on its hind legs, the shadow it cast covering the entity of Sigmar’s frame as he approached. Garen quickly loosed a well-placed arrow into the beast’s flank, but it barely flinched. Sigmar struck relentlessly, each swipe and stab drawing blood from the bear, yet the beast did not fall. Garen watched in awe of the spearmanship displayed by his brother, and in a fateful moment, Sigmar drove his spear into the beast’s heart as its clawed paw came crashing down. Both struck true, and the bear collapsed as Sigmar was swept to the side. Garen rushed to his brother’s side, but it was too late. Sigmar lay still, his blood seeping into the soil he had died to claim. The bear too, had breathed its last. 

 

Over the next few hours, a solemn demeanor fell over the encampment. As men retrieved both Sigmar and the bear’s corpse, the party trudged forward, behind Garen. A funeral was held for Sigmar Baruch, and the bear’s fur turned into a cloak to die for. 

 

As the people of Ayr began settling the lands of Valwcyk, talk of whom was to inherit now that Sigmar was gone began to surface. 

 

 

---

 

A NOBLE SACRIFICE

THE DEATH OF SIGMAR BARUCH

 

 

Issued by the

DUCHY OF VALWYCK

On the 10th day of Msitza ag Dargund of 457 E.S.

 

 

---

 

TO THE PEOPLE OF THE MOUNTAINS AND THE LAKES,

 

It is with great sadness that we announce the passing of Sigmar Baruch, heir to house Baruch and its incumbent titles. As he was without a child, the position of heir will be assumed by his brother, Garen Baruch.

 

Sigmar Baruch had spent most of his personal life secluded from the rest of the nobility and courts, opting to show his cunning and resolve through his actions, as some may be able to recall from the many sieges in which he fought. From the many battles fought in the recent years, many will remember Sigmar for his accomplishments at the Siege of Brasca, where he alone slew more than ten men. Sigmar was slain at the vanguard of a force sent to claim the land upon which our future will be built. This sacrifice will be deeply felt.

 

In accordance with Haeseni tradition, and with the grief borne by the death of our eldest son, the House of Baruch shall enter into an official mourning period of one Saint’s Day. It has been decided by the family that any delay in the settling of the Westerwald cannot be allowed.

 

 

---

 

BY MOUNTAIN, RIVER, AND COAL,

 

Her Grace, Roslin Annastas Baruch, Duchess of Valwyck, Countess of Ayr, Viscountess of Voron, Baroness of Laval and Riveryn, Lady of Jorenstadt, Guardian of the Hanseti Coast

 

His Lordship, Garen Petyr Baruch

[Xarkly 12618]

 

The Bishop of Westerwald drew his blade that evening, and prayed for the solace of he who was lost.