Rholf Rhosgor-
Older and weathered. That best described how Rholf felt. Many seasons of traveling between Portosa and Baltis. Many skirmishes with the enemies of Framn Highlands and to a greater extent, the Artaois Mountain Range. Rholf grew restless. The same migration, the same conflict. He questioned why the barbarians of Framn remained there, when there were more hospitable places to inhabit.
Portosa held many squat villages near the lower water sources below the Framn Highlands. He confessed that the water quality was not as pure as the highlands, but it was sufficient for a tribe's needs. When brought before the tribe. The concern was how soft everyone would become. Indeed, being near Artaois's remains gave them strength. It hardened their resolve against nearly all elements. Rholf offered that instead of crossing the mountain range, they could inhabit a settlement further down the highlands.
Again, he was met with question. The Good Old Ways were always better than the Bad New Ways. It made for little growth. The emergence of iron and steel had only arrived two generations ago. The barbarians of Framn were indeed primitive. The barbarians did collect several articles from their skirmishes with the other races. Some of them fragile, others harder than the fossilized stone that surrounded their settlement.
"I will show you the Bad New Ways can help us," he said adamantly. Rholf stormed into his fur covered hut and collected his things and took stock of what he had. It wasn't much. "My pack, waterskin, food, weapon, furs and traps." he thought. At this point, the rest of the settlement stood outside of Rholf's hut. He stood before them, ready to depart. "May Artaois guide your path. Take these with you." A little girl walked forward with her hands extended.
The first item was rusted over, but Rholf did not forget what sound it made. The sound of thunder came from it. He did not understand the benefit of such a thing if only worked once. It did not fit his hand all that well when he gripped it. A dwarf had stormed their settlement but was quickly overrun after the sound of thunder came from it once. "Dumb Squat."
The other item was a dagger. It was made of fossilized bone, with an edge of obsidian. Razor sharp, but very brittle if handled improperly. Rholf knew what the dagger meant to the barbarians of Framn. Few were made and were different sizes and shapes. This one happened to look like a shortsword if someone other than Rholf wielded it. It was a sort of Sigil.
And so Rholf Rhosgor set off down from the Highlands, looking for answers. "The Bad New Ways, here I come."