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Sigurd member of RPG for 5 years

Promethean World Builder Friendly Beginnings Recruiter Conversationalist Greeter Tipworthy Author Lifegiver Person of Interest Visual Appeal Group Theory Property Buyer Concierge Novelist

95,959 words written.
112 total posts.
857 words per post.
112 posts per roleplay.
1,052 average days in a roleplay.
1 universes joined.
18.25 INK received in tips.

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Username:
Sigurd
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No

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Mon Sep 25, 2017 6:32 pm
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Welcome Desk: Introductions & Arrivals
(26 Posts / 86.67% of user’s posts)
Most active topic:
Sigurd Hring's Character Sheet & Journal
(14 Posts / 46.67% of user’s posts)

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Responded to 25 different topics in the Welcome Forum.

Novelist

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Wrote over 80,000 total words!

Universes

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Universes Created

Níu Heimar: The Viking Saga

Níu Heimar is an Old Norse phrase meaning "Nine Homes" in reference to the many realms of Norse mythology. The Viking Saga is a surrealistic story about love and war, legend and fame, the falling of nations and the rise of kings.

Most Tipped Posts

1.00 INK received for post #2822350, located in Grove of Yggdrasill:

Arriving from the Great Ellarian Forest...

Lord Bruce of Essex, or what was formerly Essex in a past life, used his walking stick to clear the branches in his path as he led ahead of David Baxter, heading deeper into the forest. As he left the main portion of the Great Ellarian Forest and traveled through the Viridescent Woodlands, going deeper and deeper, the trees and bushes began to get clustered, being closer and closer together. The forest slowly became darker and darker, with more and more overgrowth and untouched wilds creating a dense canopy. The duo would find less rocks and gravel, less dirt beneath their feet as they traveled further in through the thick bushes and unkempt grasses, stepping over moss covered rotten logs and fallen trees where lichen and fungus grew wildly in different colors of orange, green, red, white, brown, black and yellow.

It didn't make sense at first why Bruce had chosen to go deeper into the forest rather than trying to flee away from it, with the Great Ellarian Forest now ablaze and burning like a wall of incinerating fire and flames behind them. It seemed that going into the Viridescent Woodlands was actually not a good idea, but a very bad idea, as the thick canopy was sure to create a trap from which Bruce and David could not escape. But the 70-year-old man with the long uncombed wildly frazzled white and grey hair just kept walking at a slightly hastened pace, neither running or jogging, nor even taking his time, but pacing rather quickly into the woods until finally, Bruce pushed through the network of vines, palm branches and broadly large leaves, entering the Grove of Yggdrasil, a place where the forest seemed to open up into a circle apart from the huge canopy overhead, which continued to linger and block the sun's view. The grass in the open grove was not only smaller but softer, and the soil itself appeared to be richer, blacker and more fertile than it had been before.

In the center of the grove, the ground seemed to raise up, producing a brownish green web of roots which formed a sort of small earth mound, on top of which stood a massive tree with roots and branches twisting and tangling up the side of it. The tree itself appeared to be not just one tree, but rather a network of trees all growing together as one. That one tree appeared taller, thicker and more robust than all the other trees in the forest around it, towering above Bruce and David as they entered the Grove of Yggdrasil, the place where Lord Bruce had spent many many years living in solitude as a hermit. Despite his past life, his hidden wealth and the legends or stories that surrounded him, the once awesome, strong and handsome warrior was now skinny and living humbly, not in a fine palace drinking expensive wines, but in the deepest depths of the forest, in a makeshift pup tent crafted from a torn ship sail and boat lines, living off of berries, nuts and wild mushrooms, drinking rainwater he had collected from the broad leaves in his campsite.

As he entered the majestic grove, which seemed to glow or sparkle with a sort of shining light that came not from the heavens above, but from the magical air itself surrounding the great tree, Bruce of Essex, or Bruce the Elder as he was now probably more fit to be called, set his walking stick down, standing it up against the massive tree before sitting on one of the giant roots that bowed out of the ground like a large wooden snake-like bench next to what appeared to be an open firepit he had once fashioned from a small circle of smooth river stones. The firepit wasn't burning, but the charcoal and ashes inside of it suggested that Bruce had used the shallow pit several times to lite his own fires. Next to the firepit was a makeshift clothesline which ran diagonally down from one of the branches all the way to his small tent post, next to which sat what appeared to be a knight's metal breastplate of some kind bearing the crest of a wolf with a long forked tongue. This breastplate of course was crafted near the River Thames in East Albion, and was not from the Ellarian continent at all, but from another parallel universe altogether. Next to the armor appeared to be a stack of leather bound books mostly pertaining to different languages. On top of the stack of books was what looked like some kind of rosary necklace with black and white beads.


0.75 INK received for post #2821914, located in Great Ellarian Forest:

Bjorn Ironside and his berserkers continued on their journey west through the Great Ellarian Forest, deciding to stay low beneath the ridgeline and out of sight. Bjorn peered up through the clearing in the trees, noticing what he thought at first glance to be a flock of birds overhead. But as the javelins came raining down upon their location, Bjorn's eyes grew larger and his mouth dropped open. It was an ambush.

"SHIELD WALL!!!" Bjorn shouted, his deep loud voice echoing off the nearby rocks inside the valley.

The berserkers quickly huddled together and raised their shields just as a barrage of spears came whizzing down at them from the sky. They were quick to react, but not quick enough as one of the berserkers was suddenly impaled through the neck by a javelin which pinned his body to the ground. Another berserker was impaled through his thigh as he tried to crouch down below his shield. He let out an agonizing yell as he hit the ground, holding his shield above his head with one hand whilst grabbing his wounded leg with the other. Bjorn Ironside looked absolutely furious at that moment as one of the javelins was deflected off of his shield while another one became inbedded in it, piercing through to the other side and stopping just inches from his face.

The berserkers were in trouble. As Bjorn and his men were preoccupied with the javelins, the Germanic tribes were beginning to descend over the ridge and down into the valley with them. Bjorn waited for the barrage to stop before standing up and tossing his shield aside. It was littered with spears and now too heavy to carry as the Viking berserkers grabbed their axes and prepared to engage their enemies in melee combat. If Arminius and his Cherusci wanted to fight, Bjorn Ironside would give them a battle worth remembering. Glancing beside him, Bjorn noticed a javelin stuck in the dirt. Gripping the shaft with one hand, he pulled it out of the ground and hurled it at the incoming footmen, hitting one of them in the chest so hard that he flew backwards as he was impaled, hitting and impaling the barbarian behind him as well. The other two berserkers charged forward, slamming into the whole group of barbarians with their shields and crushing them under their own bodyweight.

Bjorn Ironside then reached for his own Viking axe and began fighting. The injured berserker with the wounded thigh would wince in pain as he snapped the javelin in half and pulled it out of his leg. He limped to his feet and kept fighting, holding his shield in one hand and his axe in the other. The berserkers were outnumbered 39 to 4, and Bjorn Ironside found himself surrounded as he spun around with his axe, hacking away and deflecting javelins to both his left and his right. As one of the barbarians tried to jump down off of the ridge on top of him with a knife, Bjorn flipped the barbarian over his shoulder and slammed him on to the ground before stomping on his face, and crushing his head against the rocks. Bjorn Ironside was an absolute brute. As the eldest son of Ragnar Lothbrok, he was known to be one of the largest and strongest Vikings in the whole kingdom. The berserkers he had brought with him were no ordinary men. They were the best of the best, and the Germanic tribes were about to see why as the wounded berserker swung around, hitting a Cherusci warrior in the mouth with the edge of his shield. The man's jaw was instantly shattered as his teeth went flying off to the side along with his blood and spit.

Yet despite their best efforts, the barbarians kept coming. It didn't take long for the berserkers to get covered in the blood of their enemies. Each swing of the axe sprayed blood everywhere as limbs and javelins went flying. Bjorn's face was speckled red, his beard dripping with blood as he gazed up to the mounted equestrian in the iron mask, making eye contact with the leader of his new enemies for the first time. Bjorn's eyes were bright blue, but there was a hatred and ferocity in his gaze so powerful that it pierced through that iron mask and could be felt by the rider behind it. For a brief moment between killing people, Bjorn Ironside raised his axe and pointed it at the rider on the hill. It was as if he was challenging him or her to personal combat. Bjorn was mad with fury, and wanted to fight the Germanic chieftain one on one, before he quickly turned to confront another attacking warrior, deflecting the javelin that had been thrusted at his hip by the lunging barbarian. Bjorn twirled around him, swinging his Viking axe backwards and lodging it into the man's lower extremities from behind whilst simultaneously ducking and dodging another javelin that came aiming for his head. He spun around again and planted that same axe horizontally into the second barbarian's neck before letting go of the handle and letting him fall to the ground.


Image


0.50 INK received for post #2821649, located in Oor Cavern:

Halfdan Ragnarsson, better known as Hvitserk, the son of Aslaug the Seeress, being also the brother of Ivar the Boneless and half-brother of Bjorn Ironside and Ubbe Ragnarsson, entered the Rikkisopi Caves after aiding his brothers, and helping King Harald Fairhair to extinguish the Norman Ellarian heretics from Iskjerne Bay, reclaiming the northern territory beyond the mountains and restoring it to the natives. Hvitserk never really had a relationship with his father, but he wanted to make his brothers proud by walking in their footsteps. He led a small group of 100 warriors into the cave tunnels, when all of a sudden he began experiencing visions or hallucinations. Being the product of incest and the son of a powerful seeress, Hvitserk had inherited certain distinct qualities which messed with his mind and sometimes drove him nuts. He began to see visions of the future, as though through intuition, and peered forward in time to the events leading to his own death. Retaliating against the Taiyou emperor Shimizu Takayama by invading Niihama sounded like total suicide, and Hvitserk envisioned many other atrocities and bright daylight mares and horrors, witnessing glimpses of mass murder and bloodshed right before his very eyes.

Hvitserk stumbled and leaned against the nearest cave wall, pressing his forehead against the hard cold stoney surface while cringing. Just then, his brother Ubbe Ragnarsson walked up behind him from out of the barely lit fork in the narrow black caverns and labyrinth of winding tunnels. Ubbe had ordered his leidang to retrieve the weapons of the fallen praetorians and bring them along, so that Ubbe was now dressed in the Argosian Praetorian uniform and armor that he had taken from the elite soldiers his Vikings had killed in Iskjerne Bay, with a specialized sword and shield which could withstand the force of a 50-cal sniper rifle. Ubbe placed his hand on Hvitserk's shoulder to comfort him, having no idea that Hvitserk had just experienced a series of premonitions and terrifying visions. Hvitserk nodded when Ubbe asked if he was okay, and followed Ubbe deeper into the narrow passages and into the first open cavern when Ubbe took the lead. Ubbe had an additional group of about 50 warriors with him, seven of which were also now dressed like Argosians, wearing praetorian armor, while Ubbe himself wore the uniform of the Decanus whom he had decapitated.

"Wait," his younger brother said as his visions became more clear. Hvitserk could see through his mind's eye what dangers lie ahead, waiting for them around the corner. "What is it Hvitserk?" Ubbe asked. Hvitserk paused for a moment, placing his hand on the cave wall. He could sense that something about the Oor Cavern had changed. Something was eerily different about the gateway to the other side. "We can't just walk in there like this. If we do, we will all die. Something's different about this place my brother. Very different. It's not like before," Hvitserk said, urging him to re-think his strategy. Ubbe stopped to consider his brother's warning, nodding quietly as he turned around to gaze at the army of 150 vikingr warriors who had followed them into the caves. Ubbe Ragnarsson was planning on just storming the gateway like the Iskjerne Vikings had done in the past. He had brought a larger force with him this time, his only regret being that he didn't have more warriors to spare. He would have brought even more if he could, but the Vikings no longer had strength in numbers and would have to be much more tactful now if they were going to stand a chance against their enemies. Ubbe started to formulate a plan.

He ordered the eight Vikings in Praetorian armor to step forward and asked if any of them knew how to speak the language of the foreigners. A few of the older Varangians had been privy enough to travel abroad in times past and had picked up a little bit of Latin on their adventures, but not very much. Takao had taught Sigurd Hring how to read and write in Taiyou, but that was generations ago and there were few Vikings in their time who could recall the old ways. Of all the 150 people in his army, only one of them spoke enough broken Latin and Taiyou to carry any meaningful conversation, a Rus viking named Rulav who could easily pass as one of the Argosians with his clean shaven face, auburn hair color and pale blue eyes. "Trade me your armor," Ubbe said, exchanging the Decanus' uniform with Rulav, and putting on the armor of one of the other lesser ranked praetorians. Ubbe then told some of the other Vikings to remove their shirts and armor and hand over their weapons. Using a long chain with shackles on it, Ubbe linked them all together as one, and told them to look as filthy and weary as possible as they began covering their bodies in ash and soot. Some of the mock prisoners even cut themselves intentionally, on their arms and chests, and above their eyebrows, doing their best to look as though they had been beaten and demoralized.

It was a ballsy move, but Ubbe and his Vikings were about to try a very old and simple tactic. It was a sort of Trojan Horse tactic. They were going to walk right into Oor Cavern, and pretend to be captured with hopes that the Taiyou would fall for it and let them pass right through without a fight. Rulav, Ubbe, Hvitserk and five other Vikings in Argosian Praetorian armor would escort a chain gang of 20 other Vikings dressed as captives, while the other 122 vikings stayed back in the darkness of Nyrman Pass and waited for the signal to advance. It was a shot in the dark and a very sensitive, extremely risky operation that required full community and cooperation among all of them as a whole. It was also going to require a lot of luck, even on top of all of their coercion and planning. One slip up, and every single one of them was sure to die before they ever reached the surface. Ubbe took the swords and axes handed over by the Vikings and wrapped them up in a wool blanket, handing it over to one of the servants. He left the shackles and cufflinks loose enough around their wrists and ankles to allow some freedom of mobility, so that the strongest ones among them could still break free if they had to. But without their weapons and armor, the large metal chain would be the only thing the Vikings had for which to defend themselves, and they would have to work together as one unit in order to use it effectively.

Ubbe Ragnarsson went over the plans with his army again, making sure that everyone involved knew exactly what they were supposed to do. Rulav went over some of the basic gestures and terminology that he felt the Argosians might use to communicate with their allies, but warned all of them never to make eye contact or to speak unless spoken to. "I'll be their leader, so you let me do all the talking. You just nod your heads and obey. If I give you an order, just raise your fists to your heart like so, and bow your head. Don't say anything. We only got one shot at this, so don't screw it up. Let's get in there and make our ancestors proud of us, alright?" Rulav looked over to Ubbe and nodded. Ubbe looked at Halfdan and Rulav before nodding back. "Alright, let's do this." Rulav said before going to the front of the line. With that, he looked over to the flag bearer who was holding the Argosian banner and gave him the signal. The flag bearer raised the horn trumpet and blew into it, loud enough so that the Taiyou could hear their approach coming from around the corner. The sound echoed throughout the cave system, and suddenly the high-security motion sensored cameras picked up on their movements as the Vikings began marching into Oor Cavern, approaching the bomb-sheltor or vault-styled Taiyou Gate which had been completely sealed off and reinforced to prevent anyone from getting through the portal.


0.50 INK received for post #2821685, located in Oor Cavern:

As the gear-shaped door opened, the eight Iskjerne Vikings disguised in Argosian Praetorian armor marched up to the opening gateway and stepped on to the extending platform. Four of the officers stood in front, while the other four praetorians stood at the rear behind their gang of twenty shirtless captives, who were all bound to a single chain. The flag bearer stood at the front of the line behind the decanus as he shouted the command to halt.

"Subsisto!" Rulav shouted as they entered the ramp and came to a sudden stop on top of the platform.

As the Vikings boarded the platform, they waited patiently for it to move again as it brought them deeper into the Taiyou chamber where dozens of heavy machine guns were focused in on their direction. This was a crucial moment, as it left the Vikings completely exposed and helpless, bunched together on top of the narrow platform with nowhere to go. But they kept their resolve quietly and stayed in character, waiting patiently for the platform to carry their small group over to the other side where it docked again before letting them off.

Once the platform came to a stop and the small metal guard rail opened, Rulav pushed the small gate aside with one hand and motioned with his other hand for the troops to follow as he stepped off the ramp and continued marching. The praetorians made sure that everyone got off of the platform as the last officer at the very end proceeded to close the guard rail before stepping back into formation. Rulav ordered them all to turn left face and then marched them up to the next set of doors where he ordered them to halt.

Everyone did exactly as they were told without saying anything, or even diverting their focus on the scenery around them. Most of it was technology that they wouldn't have understood anyway, and Rulav had warned all of them not to let their eyes wander around too much as they entered the Taiyou chamber. This they did, and as Rulav's contubernia came to a sudden stop in the middle of the welcoming committee, he swallowed deeply and waited for somebody to approach him or start barking commands, not entirely sure what if anything they were supposed to do next.


0.50 INK received for post #2821974, located in Great Ellarian Forest:

As the fire raged on, Reginarus stared into the flames, eating a red apple while mounted on top of his own horse, which had been provided to him by the Argosian army. He hadn't given the horse a name, just calling it "horse", but he did talk to it sometimes like it was a person. He thought back over the pain he had experienced, and the things he had done. He remembered how he crawled out of the ground, and how Caesarius had saved his life. Reginarus's one hundred legionaries were standing on foot behind him, ready for battle in a perfectly square 10x10 band formation. As his eyes drifted into the fire, Reginarus became hypnotized by the yellow and red flames now towering over 100 feet high and stretching for miles over the Great Ellarian Forest when suddenly he saw the forest move, swell up, groan, and begin to rise into the shape of a blazing black tree mound.

As he kept staring into the fire, Reginarus saw the mound become larger as it turned into a burning tree mountain which ripped forth through the ashy hot forest, covered in flaming hot fire, looking down at him. Reginarus locked eyes with the mountainous burning giant who stood above and before him, 300 feet tall and burning like a ball of fire. It looked absolutely enraged as it looked down at Reginarus and opening its large inferno of a firey cave mouth to roar.

"Reginarus," Livia said loudly as she pulled the flap to his tent, causing Reginarus to jump. He had been dreaming, as he woke up, sitting in a wheelchair in his own tent. "Everything okay?" she asked, looking down at the rifle in Ragnar's hand. Ragnar looked at the rifle before tucking it into his lap and rolling his wheelchair outside. He stopped to gaze at the Argosian firing range before wheeling himself over to the range and lifting his rifle into the air with both hands, pointing it at the target with three colorful rings encircling a big black dot. Ragnar aimed his weapon and pulled the trigger, flying backwards out of his wheelchair and bumping his head on the ground with enough force to make him blind and deaf for a minute as he almost knocked himself out. After a second, his ears finally started ringing as his vision became blurry. He could faintly hear Livia calling his name and asking if he was okay as he slowly regained consciousness. "Reginarus... Reginarus..." her barely audible voice starting to get louder and louder as the ringing in his ears reluctantly went away.

"Reginarus," Livia said loudly as she pulled the flap to his tent, causing Reginarus to jump. He had been dreaming, as he woke up, sitting at the table in his own tent, gripping his metal crutch like a rifle. "Ready your cohort, we will venture to Iskjerne Bay, and parlay with King Finehair, before we lay siege to his kingdom. I hope to avoid bloodshed, but I am prepared should I need to be." She took a step aside, and a Vexillarius behind her was preparing a white flag, while several Legionaries began preparing their weapons. Reginarus nodded and said, "I'll get right to it" as he limped to his feet and started adjusting his waistcoat or vestus before stopping and looking twice. He noticed the white flag, and immediately stopped Livia before she closed the tent flap to walk away. "No no no don't use that flag," he said quickly before grabbing his helmet with his free hand, his other hand still holding the crutch that he was leaning on to walk. He grabbed the paint brush he used to brighten the horsehair on his helmet and proceeded to hobble over to the Vexillarius, who looked similar to the Ulfhednar except in Romanized clothing, ordering him to hold up the flag. Reginarus stared at the flag for a second before using his paint brush to draw the Algiz Rune on the flag.

It was a rune he had learned a long time ago from an old friend, representing the meaning of protection, peace and prosperity. Afterwards, he nodded and turned to go carry out Livia's orders, limping over to his horse. It didn't take long for Reginarus to get his crew in order. Very soon, the towering cloud of smoke would be visible from Iskjerne Bay, but this was intended as the Argosians wanted to be seen by their enemies. Reginarus's one hundred legionaries were standing on foot behind him, ready for battle in a perfectly square 10x10 band formation. As his eyes drifted into the forest fire, Reginarus thought about the blazing giant from his dreams. He expected it to rise up at any second, but it never did. Nothing unusual happened this time as he rode his horse over to Livia to rendezvous with her back at his tent after his legionaries were in position with the other legionaries.

"I'm going to challenge his right to rule through Holmgang," Livia said unhesitantly. "If he refuses, we will burn Iskjerne to ash, but if he accepts, I will defeat him in single combat. Reginarus, I am counting on you to take my place as Legate should I fall, and bring word to Lanius, my second in command." Livia was blunt in sharing her plans and wishes openly with Reginarus, and he was keen to listen. "Let me fight him for you... as my debt," he said, offering to be her champion during the holmgang. Livia thought about it for a second, but didn't say anything. Instead, she grasped her own horse's reigns and started to move away, returning to her own cohort. "Let's move out!" she yelled, her voice soft but still loud enough to echo over the field as workers went about as close as they could get to the edge of the burning treeline, pouring buckets of water into the grass to prevent the embers from burning the field.