Rolf Redforge: Magnar of the Thenns and would-be King-Beyond-The-Wall
Born among the snow and sleet of the Frostfangs, Rolf has known the cold of winter his entire life. Though the Thenns might be more prosperous than other free folk, Rolf's life has never been something one could call easy. A sickly child, it appeared for a time that the the babe would not make it past his first two nameless years much less the first two weeks of his own birth, but kissed by fire as he was, Rolf was lucky. When illness had taken him and his parents seemed sure that the child would pass in the night, Rolf was visted by visions of ravens and weirwood trees. The next day, his fever had passed and he had become as healthy as any babe his age should have been.
He grew up a hunter under his father's watch, and as soon as he could hold a spear, he was stalking the hidden valley of the Thenns for game to help feed his family. He had a talent for hunting, an observant and curious eye lending itself well to the killing of game. His young body hardened among the icy stone of Frostfangs, and as all wildling children do he was forced to grow fast up. He killed his first beast at six with his father's help, and managed his first solo hunt at the age of nine. When his father was confident enough the child could kill a beast on his own, Rolf was taken to far edge of the Thenns' lands. Three days they journeyed out into the Frostfangs, fighting both beast and climate for safe passage along the dangerous mountains. After camping the night, Rolf awoke to find his father gone, along with the rest of the supplies he would need to live through the next few nights. A rite of passage among the Thenns, Rolf would need to find his way home from the wildnerness in order to survive. It was on one of these freezing nights alone in the Frostfangs that Rolf was again visited by a greendream far different than the one he experienced as a babe. He saw veins bleeding an orange colored ore, a broken crown made of the same metal, and dancing, scaled beasts breathing fire down his brow to melt the crown. When he woke, he felt such a drive to search the mountains that his hunger almost disappeared. He spent two days near-starved in the Frostfangs, but Rolf found both a chunk of the strange rock and his way back into the Valley of Thenns.
For six years following, Rolf spent every free moment of his adolescence tinkering with those strange rocks. His body had aged into an athletic form, and years hunting and ferrying rocks from the Frostfangs had shed every once of fat from his body. He was a fine warrior, a good hunter, and were it not for his strange obsession, a spearwife would have claimed him already. By the age of five and ten, however, Rolf's years of effort had finally payed off. By melting the rocks with intense heat, just like he saw the dragons do in his greendream, and beating the rapidly cooling metal into shape, he could make an edge sharped than any spear. The first sword he made was crude, impure, but it was his. Rolf had won himself a name, Redforge, as well as the attention of his clan.
Arming his fellow tribesman had proven to be the first step to Rolf's ascent to Magnar. The better weapons yielded better hunts, which meant happier Thenns. Happier Thenns fought better, worked harder, and killed quicker than before. Every blow struck by a bronze weapon and every sword stopped by bronze armor had Rolf's, or one of his apprentices, work put into it. Rolf himself had proven worthy in battle against a crow ranger, taking the tattered remnants of the Watchmen's cloak as a trophy to remind others of his success. He had taken a spearwife,
Willow, and by the end of his tenth and seventh year, Rolf's name was put forward during the election of their Magnar.
The Thenns believed that their Magnar was a living god, but it was a god that they put into power. As such power could be given, it could also be ripped away. Every incumbent Mangar, after receiving enough support from fellow Thenns, must challenge the ruling god for position by way of combat using weapons of their own make. The ruling Magnar came forth with steely courage, but weapons of bone. The older man had more experience in combat than Rolf, this was true, but the youth had progress on his side. Wrapped in bronzed scale armor, and wielding a bronze sword of his own make, Rolf looked something out a legend to the Thenns. The fight was bloody, brutal, but quick. Rolf had become Magnar of the Thenns; a living god among his people. Standing, panting, before the cheering crowd of free folk, he knew he had to lead the Thenns to greatness or die trying.
Rolf ruled well the next few years. He made that initial vein of bronze into a mine, and more weapons were made than ever before. Hunting continued to prove profitable, and it was rare for a Thenn family to go hungry during those times. There were occasional conflicts with the giants, but Rolf had found that giving the creatures tribute was enough to appease any border disputes. Over time, the large folk become friends to the Thenns, and trading became commonplace among their people. Ranging parties rarely came within their territories, but when they did, Rolf's people only occasionally suffered losses to the Crows. The Thenns had been growing for close to a decade under Rolf's rule, and though life still hard, it was better than before. That, however, was not enough for Rolf Redforge. He would travel to the edge of the Frostfangs with his spearwife's hunting party at times, and see the poverty of neighboring tribes from afar. He knew he could make their lives better, make every free folks' life better, if he was given the chance. He knew the only place that would be even feasible would be South. South of the Wall.
So at the age of twenty and six, Rolf began to expand the Thenn's influence to other tribes. It began slowly first, simply reaching and trading in hopes of establishing trust, but over the course of a year he had found allies among the other wilding clans. Some still resist his attempts at allegiance, true, but the free folk were eager for another chance at life South of the Wall. Many see Rolf Redforge as the only wildling crazy enough to make that happen.
