ArkenGuard

Birth was a torment for many women, and no different was Robert, who erupted from warmth into a frosted hillside. The winter fell in thick rows over the Highlands, carving inlets into stone and forming great, icy reserves within which the wolves had gathered for den. Adolescence was marked with winter's presence, as the pressures of survival beset the clan of Dunbar and boasted ill omens for the Highlanders. In his youth, Robert was ingrained in the hunting rituals of his father and his father's allies, and whilst the child often took a backward position in the hunting parties, the child witnessed each spear plunge in earnest. Tales of the south wrapped about his ears in splendour most evenings around open fires, where the huntsmen might tell Robert of their trials. Be it a merchant vessel or mercenary work, Robert recognized among his kin an appreciation for the ventures they had taken. Such tales inspired a natural wanderlust in the young lad, whose aspirations of travel often found themselves overshadowed by the surmounting desire to enlist among the Kingdom of Norland. He had considered himself a warrior's son, and to continue that journey is all he came to know by the dwindling of his teenage years. His capabilities with a blade had been marked by frequent rehearsals with the other men, though Robert did not yet boast an impressive skillset; and as consequence, his natural size was not sufficient in disallowing his defeat in spars. The shed of man-blood was always rare, save for an afternoon upon which a flick of crimson landed upon Robert's cheek. The man afore him stood protruded with arrow and shaft, and his torso twitched angrily in revolt to the agony. In short collapse, Robert turned and sought shelter amid the woods, as several more of the dark stalks fell to impale and penetrate the kind faces of his adolescent allies, and from the woods ran Robert for the stone-lain hills beyond. The silent clatter of his sheath as it lay undrawn reminded Robert with each footfall, and his mother's forewarnings rang about his ears. The ensuing cacophony of shrieks and howls startled each remaining man, and the snow beneath their feet kicked up in wide plumes as all -- Robert included -- dashed for safety behind oaken logs. As the chaos ensued, the proximity between allies grew, and the soft sleet fell in wide sheets that concealed the wood and separated many. Robert stumbled over himself, his boots already sogging with melted snow. His lungs burnt with expenditure, and the signage about him was worn with the elements. Onward he went, with loose goods in bundle, as he sought salvation among the wilds and a warm roof to place over his head.