☀  The peaks between Hildebeast and Castagad always conjured up the strangest rumors; witches, giants, and monsters all found their place in the crest between the twin mountain lines. Many stories were shared between Midland travelers but as time went by only one tale proved itself to be true: That nomads by the count of a small township roamed freely from snow covered tip to tip.

  How the band survived the frozen heights no man could say but when word of the nomads massive bodies reached the ears of Hildebeast Raiders a large recruitment force was sent to encourage enlistment. Despite their natural bulk the nomads were surprisingly passive weilding only farming tools as weapons against the mounted Raiders. Although strong the nomads could only look on in terror as their male offspring was snatched away forced to fight battles they never should have seen.

  Not all captives held the same fate though; shackles and chains were only as effective as the mountain children let them be. Some froze terrified of the sudden attacks while others raged fighting like a giant possessed until the raiders were forced to cut the dissenters down leaving the slain children in the snow. A select few held onto paitence istead of anger or fear quietly testing their own restraints growing more confident by the day, waiting for their moment to flee. Vattier Klom had grown thin from the march back to Hildebeast, he had seen friend fall from starvation and blade but still he marched on leaving the mountains he had always known as home behind. One night Vattier overheard his captors discussing how they had came a weeks walk to Hildebeast from where they currently camped. The two marauders were supposed to be guarding the future battle slaves but drank heavily singing praises to their homeland until they passed out leaning back to back on each other.

  Vattier knew his time had come breaking his shackles he roused his comrades to awaken and flee with him. None though would follow him Northward over the shadowing hill, long ago most had given up hope knowing their families would have retreated back into the mountains far from sight for as many years as the violent rumors of Raiders presisted.

  Vattier ran over the hill and through the woods lost the moment he left the chains of the Raiders. If by divine guidence of sheer luck the young brute made his way to Yearn avoiding his pursuers and the natural dangers the wilderness provided. Upon his arrival there Vattier was warmly accepted and taught the ways of the fisherman. Vattier kept a simple life from that point on only catching what he could eat for the day and assisting the other townspeople ward off Raiders and wolves.

  As Yearn grew and grew the town became known as a peaceful beacon of Midland and it wasnt long before the various strains of aquatic life captured the taste of Heiros. Trade and industry boomed bringing a small amount of peace between Midland and Heiros but none to Vattier. Although the Raiding parties had begun dying out the new desire in fish often left the large fisherman with an empty net. When Vattier could no longer catch enough to support his daily meals he stalked the market place begging for food.  

  Surprised he was to find how much the townsfolk of Yearn had changed, what would have normally been given for free was now priced its weight in gold. Vattier never cared much for gold and was rudely turned away. 

  Considered a vagabond Vattier begun earning small amounts of coins as a woodland guide. But it never made a difference his favorite dish was far too expensive for him to afford. What little choice Vattier had when the mercenary captain who had hired him as a guide invited him to join the ranks of the Brass Bucklers.

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