It had been a long trek through the Wilderlands. Over hill and under tree, through glorious sunlight and darkened shade, Halvar's boots had carried him far and further still. In the service of the Free Peoples of The North, the last son of Hal would surely walk farther than even that, but it was with a certain sense of elation and dread that finally his path tread home.
It was always queer; to come back again. To have seen more of Middle-Earth than he had dared to dream as a child, and yet somehow the world still felt so small around Lake-Town. The more things had grown, the more The Shadow had enclosed around them. The more joy spread, the more horrible rumors came out of Angmar to the North, and the desolate lands far to the East. These tales, however, were just as important to tell as that of the great heroes of old. Foolish child were he, that would listen solely to the epics and not the warnings. Had he had listened! Had Esgaroth listened!
So it was that when King Bard sent out the call, Halvar, Son of Halstein, was quick to answer the horn. He remembered well what had happened when Bard The Dragonslayer had gone unheeded in the past: the road took him along the rotting skeleton of his old home, the casualty of hubris. Hubris of Man and Dwarf, now laid bare as a testament to what the old bitterness and prejudices would bring them: Fire, and Death.
Upon seeing and hearing another at the ferry crossing, Halvar brightened considerably. He waved a gloved hand, calling out as he came closer.
" Hail, good sir!"
It would be good to have others aboard the boat: A Lakeman, though he felt the waters below his feet as assuredly as he felt the dirt, was never one to dismiss companionship upon the boat. It would make it far easier as well to sail past the ruins of a past life, were he to distract himself within present company.
Upon coming close enough to speak normally, the Lakeman put his closed fist to his chest and inclined at the neck to greet the other, including his animal companion.
" A morning spent on the waters is always a pleasant one," he agreed to the assessment, " And pleasant companions make the journey far more welcome. I am Halvar, of Esgaroth. Whom may I be in the company of?"