The shadow of the giant ashwood tree overlooking Varhelm casts itself over the childhood home of Thorfinn. As he looks up at its gently swaying branches he shifts the weight of his heavy pack filled with all of his earthly possessions from his sholders, standing seemingly idle as he collects his thoughts. He thinks back to his childhood days when he would watch the ships launch from the harbors, filled with armored men and bristling spears - and then when he'd watch them return, the hulls of their ships sitting low in the water. His mind shifts to his teenage years where he worked as an apprentice carpenter; carving intricate knotwook into soft wood with his woodworking set, and then to his early twentys where he worked building ships at the shipyard in Varhelm while married to his wife.
Finally, his deep-set brows knit together as he dwells upon the events of one year ago. Today just happened to mark one year since his wife had gone missing in a freak blizzard. Since then, the whole of Varhelm held too many memories that pained him to consider staying. Having sold all of his possessions that were unable to fit in his pack, he picks it up once again and loops its straps around his shoulders. Bringing a hand up to the beartooth necklace that his now presumably deceased wife had given him, he takes one last glance at his once-home before setting off down the road, continuing to a destination which he did not yet know.
