Childhood

Born in a small, out of the way country home right on the western borders of Combe, nestled comfortably within a small valley that overlooked a small, scenic lake, the minute before midnight, on the 28th day of October, Rhyva was healthy, and timely. Her mother, Rhayena, was a lawless woman, and her father Aaron was a high ranking man of the watch. Their relationship ended the 29th of October, when Rhayena was able to regain her strength from childbirth, and vanished without a word, leaving Rhyva in the hands of her young and parentally ignorant father. Being so busy as he was, he had no time to be a very involved parent, and thus he left his only child in the care of various nannies.

She learned to walk before she learned to talk, her first word coming out a month later, "Mom" that word was, the toddler referring to Cathrin, her longest running caretaker at the time.

The first person she called 'Dad' was her criminal uncle, who was only loose because of a bias trial (Which went in uncle Foth's favor)

Cathrin stuck around until Rhyva was around nine, eventually getting it through her head that she was not, her mother. All the same Rhyva would continue thinking of her in this same light, until the day she left. Since she was largely independent already, why did she still need a caretaker?  Her dad came back into her life. He was a near stranger to her, and her to him, having missed the first decade of her life to a large degree. Rhyva didn't want her dad. She wanted her Mother, Cathrin. She knew she wasn't her real mother, but she was there at least (Even though she knew she was being paid for it).

"What's my favorite color?" She asked her dad when he told her he'd be around more often.

"I don't know.." He would reply.

"Red." She simply stared at him, before locking herself off in her room.

Similar questions like that would pop up over the next few months, only adding to her resentment towards her father, only agreeing to come out of her room when he actually got one of her trivia question correct.

She slowly let her resentment fade away as her father tried his hardest to reconnect with his estranged daughter. She een agreed to go on some of his suggested trips. Fishing. Fishing was fun.

Not so much the fishing part, but the lake part. She liked the water, and was always an excellent swimmer, even though it meant they'd never catch a thing that day. She made the lake in far Chetwood her second home throughout this time.

Teenage years

What was it about the young watchers in Combe that excited her? They were only a few years older than her, but their parents had no problem with them parading around town in their fancy uniforms (Fancy to her at least) with their pointy spears (Glorified sharpened sticks) and mighty swords (Rusty old blades) At the age of thirteen, she had accepted her father back into her life completely, and took interest in his life with the guard the next town over, in Bree. For reasons she didn't quite understand yet, she was never introduced as his daughter - in fact, he introduced her to no one at all, much to her thinly veiled dismay. She always found the prospect of the watch an intriguing and exciting one, frequently pestering the recruits with questions they didn't know the answer to whatsoever.

She started to spend her time while her dad was working, emulating his work with games relevant to the trade (Or at least the exciting parts) - Her friends Will, Gudlen, and Charlie were usually content to play her made up, sometimes overcomplicated games. One of them was called, "Watch and Bandits", where two of them would play the roll of the 'heroic watchers' (Rhyva almost always played this roll), and the other two would play the bandits. Though the basis of the game involved a back of copper coins, masks, pretending to hold up locals in combe, and a bunch of various overcomplicated rules that Rhyva seemed to change whenever the game became too hard, or too easy - they usually ended up just pummeling each other with waterlogged sticks, used to proxy clubs, spears, and 'swords' (The thin ones were swords). 

Fun though these years may have been, they turned to derail when her father remarried a beautiful, but very whiny and stingy woman by the name of Naomi. She would scold Rhyva for her wild antics with the local boys of Combe, insisting towards women having a different place in the world,

"Women are not meant to bare blades, get filthy, shout, and tackle their friends! They are supposed to be proper, and show the utmost respect towards their men!" Perhaps this would work for Aaron, but Rhyva would not have such a thing pushed upon her. With her at constant odds with her stepmother, she began to resent her father once again for keeping her around. Whenever she was to try and play with her friends in the square, she would be drug back inside by the ear, and scolded by her stepmother.

She didn't think it fair, that she was expected to dress and act in a certain way - Wearing several layers no matter the heat outside, having tea parties with Susan and Mary? These things did not appeal to her. Not one bit. Especially since they, had already started to reach physical maturity. Rhyva looked like a boy at this age, hair cropped short, very lithe, lacking in all too much figure. Yet still she was made to wear these unflattering poofing dresses with frills, laces, and shoulder pads - oversleeves, undersleeves, bodices, girdles, and whatever else Naomi could fit on her to make her 'more proper'. She felt like she was being used as a play thing.

She wished Aaron would step in more often. Or at all. But he never did a thing.

It was a struggle for the next few years, up until fifteen. She had grown out of the childish games, and wanted to be part of the real watch.

"No." was her father's short answer.

This would be followed by a lengthy bout of begging, and eventually the long answer,

"No, because it's far too dangerous. There are more bandits coming to these streets each and every day, and I won't put you in harms way. I have kept you out of the public eye for a reason.. Besides, Naomi would kill me."

But all she heard was the final statement. She now knew in her heart that she despised Naomi with every fiber of her being.

Enlisting

Rhyva's dad passed in the heat of battle above the scholar's bridge on a dreary night, the day after Rhyva's eighteenth birthday. She looks back upon him without focusing on all the bad, but giving her focus on what good he did for a small portion of her life. At the very least, she was relieved. She was old enough to not need a guardian, and smart enough to make it on her own. Most importantly, she could finally be rid of Naomi for good, banishing her to a realm deep within her mind were memories went to die.

It was around now, she finally hit physical maturity, and actually developed a figure, quickly taking notice from the young men about town she had never gotten before - Though the meaningless random complements, free drinks at the Combe and Wattle, and occasionally getting to call men out on their gawking was a welcomed change from going beneath notice, it was still not her place to succumb to chivalry. She wasn't to become her step mother.

She spent the next year or so hounding the sellswords, and guardsmen alike around town, getting what tips and pointers she could in the art of swordplay, and the likes. Particularly the sword, since it's all she actually had (A gift from her uncle given around this time, one she still carries to date).

She enlisted herself as a recruit in the watch at the age of nineteen - though she was way over her head, she quickly learned the ropes and was able to assist her companions where she was needed. She quickly earned the rank of 'Third watcher" and was contented with such, even though she often did find herself much busier, and arguably more useful than the handful of people that gave her instructions. It was during this time, that she started a romance with Lhiam, who was a watcher right upon her enlisting as well. 

Break in Stride

After a long bout with the watch, without the recognition (She felt like) she deserved from the gaffer, she hung up her uniform. Though this was not the only reason for her leaving - Lhiam had soon vanished from her life for his own reasons, her uncle had recently passed on, and she had been getting attacked so often being the only 'on duty' watcher for so long, that she was beginning to fear for her own safety. Leaving left her at the time partner, Yisabelle Blackboar in her rank - Soon to inherit the rank of Captain in Rhyva's place. Though the details of this period are fuzzy, she claims to have spent the last portion of it traveling with Amoryl. She returned to Bree-land at the age of twenty-five.

Return

Where does the name Rhyva actually come from? It was not her given name. Upon her return to Bree-land she administered this name to herself, but insisted that people old and new call her "Red" (After all, it is her favorite color). She didn't want people to instantly hound her about her previous time spent in the hedge wall. She moved back into the old house, and turned it into a kennel, using the skill as a dog trainer that she picked up in the lone-lands to train hunting dogs, and guards dogs alike.

She found her old partner in the place she'd felt she herself should have been - at the head of the watch. Old habits die hard it would seem, and she accepted the offer to re-enlist as Yisabelle's Lieutenant. But she did not wish to alter the flow of her current life either.. The solution? Working out of uniform, only relaying what information she could without actually stepping in to such events.

For reasons that are still largely unclear, Yisabelle suddenly stepped down from her position, making Rhyva the next one in charge. No more out of uniform work for her, it would seem, as suddenly all the weight was on her shoulders.

Update - 5/25/2015

Having run the watch from it's head for quite some time now, Rhyva finds herself in a bind, between a newly formed family, and her job. As a result, she has taken on a less forward position, and a more administrative position, trusting her officers to pick up the reins where she can no longer find the time to do so.