Born just on the western edge of Greenwood the Great to Birgir Brigidsdottir and Dagfinn Dagmarsson, Stigandir was the second of an eventual seven children. There was Hakon, his older brother, Knut, Asbjorn and Geir, his younger brothers, and the twin girls, his sisters, Heidrun and Helka.

Only a decade or two after the Battle of the Five Armies, they lived a rough an wild life, often assailed by goblins an wolves from the Misty Mountains to the west and things far worse from Mirkwood to the east.

They lived quite a rather insular and primitive life in a large group of extended family who had settled right on the Great River. Despite their insularity, they did however occasionally trade and visit with both the Elves of Mirkwood and the Men of Dale.

Due to the havoc, destruction, and damage caused by the Company of Thorin Oakenshield and their expedition to Erebor, however, which the Woodsmen deemed a simple mission of greed, Stigandir was taught to loath and hate the Dwarves.

When he was thirteen winters old, he was already participating in long hunts in the Greenwood and war raids and skirmishes against the goblins in the mountains, alongside his father, uncles, brothers, and cousins.

During an ambush by goblins and wolves, in which their war party was saved by a group of passing Wood Elves, Stigandir, due mostly to his size, became known to the Elves, and they called him Arthaegas, the Exalted Mountain Peak, as they claimed he was as large as Erebor itself.

Among the many archaic and odd little things Stigandir was taught, growing up, was a unique spiritual philosophy and quasi-religious worldview. Based on the basic animistic principle that all things (men, beasts, stones, trees, etc.) possess a spirit, Stigandir was taught by his father the importance of keeping such spirits, and the spirits and memories of one's own ancestors, happy, and a myriad of different ways to do just that.

After reaching adulthood, Stigandir became somewhat of a spiritual leader in their ever dwindling community. All his life, since childhood, he had been plagued by a reoccurring dream of a talking raven speaking nonsense and meaningless words and phrases. This was interpreted as the spirits' way of communicating with him.

Eventually, he took a wife, Vigdis Aneisdottir, who ten years ago bore him a single son, Vidar Stigandirsson. Ever since his son's birth, however, he and Vigdis bickered and argued constantly about how he should be raised. Vigdis did not come from the insular community, and seeing how the world was changing, feared to raise the boy in the wilds and wished to move to Esgaroth.

Stigandir, who had only ever known the path of following in the footsteps of his forebears, refused to compromise on the issue, however.

Thus, four years ago, with Vidar only six summers old, Vigdis took him and fled, hoping to escape an make a life somewhere else. To Stigandir, however, this represented more than just the loss of his son and wife, but a curse upon all his kin and ancestors.

In his way, Stigandir had "introduced" the boy to the spirits, so he was known to them, but he did not have the opportunity to teach him how to respect and appease them. Thus it was, and still is, his fervent belief that unless he finds his son, eventually the spirits will take revenge on him, his son, all his kin, and the spirits of all his ancestors.

Unfortunately, he married a woman of unmatched cleverness and guile, and so for four years he has tracked them, but still remains unsuccessful. In his travels he has made it as far south as the Gap of Rohan and as far north as Fornost.

During the very first weeks of his search, while in Mirkwood, he was fortunate enough however to meet a Wood Elf named Cauldring, who has offered him occasional assistance over the years.

As time has drawn on, however, a cataract has begun to appear in his left eye, obscuring some of his vision, and an inexplicable pain grows each day in his right leg, both things he attributes to the spirits beginning to take their revenge.

In an effort to cope, he has taken up heavy drinking when possible. Recently, he arrived in the city of Bree for the first time, hot on the heels of his quarry, only to find the lead to be a dead end.