On My Own

My time on my own was for a long while uneventful. I filled my days with wandering, hunting, and practicing my skills both with my sword and with the small magical tricks Helja had taught me. Helja was probably the closest thing to a mother I ever experienced, although I suppose a grandmother would be more apt. She was much older than even my father, but wise and loving. A Clever Woman was what those in town referred to her as, but I suppose at some point she had learned from elves or druids themselves. She taught me how to use the power of nature and of growing things to tap into the "weave" as it is called. Some simple healing, how to sharpen my luck on the hunt, how to interact with the elements around me, and other such simple tricks. I doubt as though I will ever be a wizard or the like, but I quite enjoy the feeling of tapping in to the forces of nature, and turning them to my favor.
 
Other than my simple magic, I spent long hours with my bow and sword. I will say I improved with both, but many years of swinging an axe has made me more comfortable hewing with my arm than aiming with my eye. I have learned that in times of stress and in battle I find myself rushing headlong into the middle rather than holding back and assessing. A foolish behavior no doubt, but the harder I hit the more successful it seems to be.
 
As I wandered I intentionally set a course westward and southward. I had often made the trip north from Greenbriar to Marsh and even High Marsh. Once, as a boy, I even accompanied my father to Port Dawnwater. The size and throngs of peoples were unbelievable. I remember the feeling of suffocating with every step I took closer into the heart of that giant, walled beast. I have avoided the large cities ever since. I recall that my father had business with a dwarven guild and received a very poor deal out of it. The whole experienced soured my taste for cities, people, and anywhere I could not see the trees.
 
It was both my hatred of crowds and more loathing to see familiar faces that drove me deep into the great wood towards the south. Of the south I knew very little. I believe that Helja came from somewhere to the west, beyond the southern moors. But where and how long ago I have very little idea. I was not hurried, and many times considered turning around and heading back home. I came up with many stories and explanations, but none even seemed to justify the feeling in my heart. I knew I could not force myself to return, so I carried on.
 
For months I carried on in that life. Camping, hunting, practicing, and wandering. I was adventuring, but having few actual adventures, until I met the two of the most unusual men I have ever seen, even to this day.