Sigourd was a rambunctious and rebellious young girl. More often found fighting with her brothers than learning the ways of preparing bear skins and far more interested in wandering the pine forests than learning about house keeping.
So, as her clan elders tried more and more to bring her to heal in regards to what a young girls should be, she rebelled more often against them. Till, one evening she'd had enough; Taking down one of the ancestors swords from whee it hung upon the great cave's wall, to adding a great fur cloak to cover her too large and equally borrowed chain shirt, she slipped out into the darkness of the valley and was soon lost beyond the borders of her clans' demises.
It was actually many years until Sigourd's wanderings finally settled down in a small valley of her own. Now grown to full maturity and, after more than a few run ins with brothers and cousins, she knew her family had accepted her hard fought for Independence, she st about 'settling' in. It took some little time for her to make the caves 'comfortable', but the hunting and game were plentiful so Sigourd wanted for little.
Now a single being in the wild might come to fear the predators of said environs. Sigourd, however, as a mature Frost-Giantess was in effect the valley's highest level predator. Using her great bow, spears and javelins down to even just bare rocks or her prized family sword- not even the large white pelted cave bears thought of crossing her even larger self.
In time, as a Frost-Giant's life span is longer than most creatures, at the southern, warmer end of Sigourd's valley the game and sport began to change. No longer where deer, elk and moose the common things for the hunt, but bison and cattle began to replace them. Again seemingly in no time at all to the long lived Sigourd, little human steadiness began to pop up like mushroom rings all over the plains her valley opened onto.
Secretly she would often hid within the edges of her forest's pines and watched the comings and goings of these little folk with interest, of course never fear, their distantly viewed existence looked upon with curiosity. Often times her musings being during the expeditions she would mount in which to add 'cow' and 'horse' to her larder.
Now, from the human's perspective, the loss of some of their herds to predators of the wilds was only expected as the way of the world, but to begin to lose prized mounts and other possessions to some creature that could simply lift said animal from a corral. Or worse yet, simply open a large barn door to reach in and pluck prized oxen from their pens, eventually brought the ire of the people of Barlenstead to bear upon the thieving of their lively hood.
Soon, as tales are want to do, the story spread and those of a more marital and adventurous nature drifted closer to learn and 'deal' with the threat to Barlenstead.
The first group to range into the hills were local youths seeking glory and adventure. When they had not returned after many months, with the fear and trepidation growing, a larger and more experience number of adventurers drifted in from the whispered spread of rumors of glory and treasure to be had.
Sigourd, in the meantime, had no idea such things were afoot. She hadn't even met the group of youths directly. Only coming across their path and eventual remains in a snow bear's den. The same cave she'd first tried to make her home in only to find the roof leaked and the opening faced the seasonal storms. These short comings had finally won out over Sigourd's stubbornest, but not before she'd decorated the opening with carved statues in the rocks of a pair of rampant elks and large paving stones as a form of steps, the better to reach the raised cave mouth.
Taking the bear pelt and human trinkets back to her home, she puzzled for a short while as to the meanings of these signs. But not very long as her giant-ish nature came to the fore and so she began to 'prepare' things for any 'guests' she may have of the little folk.
The tales of these encounters make for a much longer tale than this teller has time for, needless to say many an adventurer met their werds at the hands of Sigourd, their tales becoming nothing more than strands in the Giantess' own legend. It was one of these adventurers who's addition had an unexpected turn in Sigourd's tale.
Barlingson Fergasun was/is the fellow's name. As large and loud and feisty a fighter as there ever was. A man just as prone to scream, leaping into a fray as calmly loose arrows into an engagement. It was Barlingson who survived his groups encounter with Sigourd, but in the doing of something else happened. While the size of his frame was not quite up to the standards of Frost-Giants, his spirit, strength and personality almost certainly were enough to capture a certain frost maiden's heart.
