"For almost two decades I ruled..."
At least that is what he told his mother when she asked him what he was doing with his life. It called to him certain memories.
He remembered arriving on that rocky, windswept shore of Valhalla by long boat. He was met by several barbarian warriors clad in fur and mail. Some of them had ridiculous horns sticking out of their helmets. They fought well. They died anyway.
They were part pirate, part barbarian, and all warrior. A couple steps above bloodthirsty savages. Oh, and they were strong, very strong, not as strong as Roland, but very few were.
This was one of Roland's early trips from Evermoor. He snuck out even though Julian was trying to watch over him for mother. Roland wanted to try something. As a member of the Amber line he was expected to be able to rule. He wanted to find out if he could.
From that first encounter, he built his war band of the survivors. They encountered other war bands and either fought or traded. That's how things were done. Regardless, Roland's group grew. They had boats and horses and a few fortified keeps. He was respected by other leaders, feared by other warriors, and loved by his people.
After awhile, Roland proposed a Meet. A Meet was called so all the tribes and clans could trade, arrange marriages, draw up treaties (which consisted mainly of 'I won't kill you or your people and you won't kill me or my people. Unless, of course, we have nothing better to do.'). They all came. Roland, and his big ax, promised no violence to all who came. So, the smaller tribes arrived as well. Roland erected a great hall in which all the chiefs stayed and drank and fought and drank and talked and drank...
On the third day, before any serious fights broke out. Roland suggested that things would work out much better if they all united under one banner. They agreed and the all suggested that they each should be the overlord. Roland concurred. Which surprised and confused those present. How could they all be the Overlord? Then he laid out the rules. Of all the newly created overlords in the hall, whom ever managed to walk out of the hall alive would be the true overlord. The next of kin of the fallen would be given control of their areas but they would bow to the Overlord.
There were many songs, ballads, and poems written about the small war that occurred in that hall.
When Roland stumbled out of the building the next day he congratulated the new clan chiefs on their sudden promotion. Then, under the watchful eyes of his warriors, he spent a full month in bed rest.
Upon his recovery he began to issue his orders. Roland perceived that he needed to keep his people busy or they would lapse into their bickering ways. So he set them to building roads and his castle. Those who were still mostly savage warriors he sent, with great fanfare, on epic (and deadly) quests for glory. Those true warriors he turned into his army and police force.
In ten years he had forged a kingdom. It was not perfect or grand but it functioned. His people were generally happy. His warriors were respected throughout the land. They were still relatively brutal people but that was to be expected. After all, Roland was their King.
Then Roland started to age. Well, not really. It is truly amazing what a little make-up and powder in ones hair can do. He was also concerned of his lack of an heir. It wasn't for lack of trying but between his two wives, 3 mistresses, and his girlfriend, none of them would bare a child. So, he went out and found a lad of 12 years and adopted him. Some comments were quietly made but Roland dealt with them just as quietly. So Roland trained the boy, called Ulath, in all the virtues he possessed and, if Roland felt he needed to know something that Roland did not know, he found someone to teach him. After more years of ruling Roland put his affairs in order and died.
Well, not really. But someone who passed as an older Roland and, in fact was called Roland, in the shadow that he was found. Roland literally took him from his deathbed there and placed him on 'his' deathbed in Valhalla. Admittedly, it was a little tricky and very disturbing to watch an old decrepit you die.
Roland willed Valhalla to his son Ulath and chose 100 of his closest, fiercest, and most loyal of his warriors and their families assemble on the very beach were he arrived over 20 years prior.
Then out of the mist came Roland (the real one) with several longboats. In a grand, but short, speech, he informed his most loyal subjects that they were to come with him to a place 'beyond reality' to receive their reward. After an amazing journey across 'the Sea of Stars,' they settled in Evermoor. Their descendants are still there and are just as loyal although they no longer remember their origins. They consider Evermoor their eternal home and Roland their Defender.
It has been 4 or 5 generations since king Roland ruled Valhalla but he is still remembered fondly. He has taken place in their legends and most believe that Roland is their immortal King and the rest are caretakers of the realm he crafted. Of course Roland could never completely abandon Valhalla. He visits and will occasionally perform some feat that sparks rumors of King Roland's return but overall he leaves it well enough alone. It has grown up and does not need him anymore but he likes to look in from time to time...