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Ulfric Bjornson

"One man's oppression is another's benevolence."

0 · 1,136 views · located in Tiberia

a character in “Of Glory”, as played by Scarlet Loup

Description

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“How does one draw the line between dictator and monarch? The truth, my friend, is you do not.”




The Basics




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|| Full Name ||
Ulfric Albrecht Bjornson

|| Nicknames ||
Ulfric the Bold or the Kingslayer for the violent way he usurped the throne. His harsh ways and brutish mannerisms have given him the nickname of "The Bear".

|| Gender ||
Male

|| Age ||
Fifty-one

|| Rank/Title ||
King of Ostwall

|| Sexual Orientation ||
Heterosexual

|| Kingdom/Alliance ||
Ostwall




What's on the Outside




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|| Hair Color ||
Ulfric still retains the brown that his hair has always been, but it is obvious that it has begun to go gray with age.

|| Eye Color ||
His eyes are a light emerald.

|| Height ||
Six feet

|| Weight ||
One hundred and eighty pounds

|| Scars ||
Ulfric has far too many scars to remember where they are come from. Many are from swords and spears in war, but he also has a few from working as a child. His hands remain calloused from years of rough labor.

|| Description ||
One does not have to know Ulfric to tell that he was, and still is, a man of massive strength. At six feet and one hundred, eighty pounds, he is not a force to be reckoned with or taken lightly. Rather, many look toward him with fear in their eyes or respect, or perhaps a mixture of the two. Nevertheless, like all men, his hair has begun to lighten in color as gray finds its way into his once-chestnut hair. His beard too is streaked with the gray of age. However, both this and the wrinkles he has acquired hardly faze Ulfric. Rather, he views them as a way to show how long he has lived and fought. They mark a harsh life full of struggle. Instead, Ulfric is bothered by his hindered mobility in age which causes his joints to ache in Ostwall's cold weather. He refuses to dress in the rich golds and reds of the nobility in Falor. Instead, Ulfric dresses in more practical, slightly over-sized cloaks and coats of various furs in varying browns and grays.




What's on the Inside



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Personality:
{Distant, Reminiscent, Brutish, Instinctive, Ignorant}

To say Ulfric is a barbarian is harsh, to say the least. He often tries to sophisticate himself through intellectual pursuits or games of mental strength. In reality, however, he is no more than an emotionally strong peasant. Ulfric lacks the education and refinement of the other leaders of the land, but he pretends that he is one of them even though the gap between Falor and Ostwall has always been unbreachable. His distances himself from others not because he is a morose being but because he has always preferred solitude given the years of it he spent in Ostwall's army. Often, one can see the reminiscence on his face, for he usually appears to be lost in his thoughts. He is a paranoid man, though, and has therefore kept his kingdom under quite a strict rule.

He speaks without refinement or deep thought over his words. Really, it is only due to his advisers and his son that he has managed to remain in power for such a long period of time. Because of this, he often gives off the impression of being barbaric or crude. This, however, can simply be attested to his upbringing without a formal education. Having grown up in and experienced a world where quick reactions are the difference between life and death, he is often an instinctive man. Overall, his actions tend to turn most against him, but he certainly is not an evil man. Instead, he is better described as naive or ignorant. He realizes that times have changed and he has far more power than he once had, but he also finds it difficult changing his way, much like teaching an old dog new tricks.


Hobbies:
  • Hunting, especially for large game
  • Sparring
  • Games of Strategy, though he is not very good at them.
Habits:
  • Tends to rest his head on the heel of his hand when he thinks, pressing his knuckles into his lips
  • Often hums tunes he has heard over the course of his life to himself
Oddities:
  • He's quite the alcoholic, but Ulfric also does know when to regulate himself in public.
  • As he ages, his old injuries have come back to haunt him. He often moves in a bit of a limp because of the physical pain.
Likes/Loves:
  • Beer
  • The Forest
  • Solitude
  • His Family
  • Physical Combat
Dislikes/Hates:
  • Sailing
  • Strangers
  • Politics
  • Being Beaten
  • Pretending to Be Refined




What's Done Is Done




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Biography
|| Place Of Origin ||
Ostwall

|| History ||
Unlike the other monarchs of the land, Ulfric was not born to his title. In fact, his family owned nothing more than a measly hut along the sea. He was the eldest child in his family, and he would be followed by two more brothers and a sister. His low birth meant he lacked a proper education. Instead, he occupied himself with fishing and later farming when his family could finally afford to purchase animals. The life of a farmer would never satisfy him, however. Once his brothers were fully capable of running the farm alongside their father, Bjorn, Ulfric set out to join Ostwall's army.

It was a lonely existence, and it was a harsh one. Nevertheless, Ulfric's harsh upbringing allowed him to adapt to the army well. As Falor pushed against Ostwall, he fought ruthlessly to hold them back. His performance in battle earned him the nickname of "The Bear" and promotion upon promotion until he found himself wealthy enough to purchase better land for his family. When he finally acquired his own coat of arms, he obviously chose the bear as his house's animal. Time would pass, and he would take a wife, Freya Tyrdottir. He was twenty-eight when his only son, Ronan, was born. In that year, he would also choose to rise up against the current king.

Having gained the trust of his fellow soldiers, Ulfric was able to successfully orchestrate the rebellion right under the king's nose. Rebellion, perhaps, is the wrong word to use, for it had been tradition for the old king to be overthrown when he was no longer approved of. Then again, the current king's family had possessed the throne for roughly fifty years by then, half of the entire time Ostwall existed. On what seemed to be a random day, Ulfric and his men simply entered the throne room where he approached the king and unsheathed his sword. The guards simply turned their heads as Ulfric swung his blade around and sliced through flesh and bone. It was, more or less, an unprovoked act. Later, he would claim that the past king had been corrupt, but no one truly knew. To many, the new king was ruthless and barbaric. He was nicknamed "Ulfric the Bold" and, more crudely, "Ulfric the Kingslayer". The names failed to affect him. Adelaide was born shortly after he assumed the throne.

Due to having to fight to secure his position, Ulfric was a distant father to his children. Still, he tried to show as much love as he cold to them. After the untimely death of his wife, Ulfric remarried to the far younger Genevieve. He certainly can tell that she does not love him, and he does not love her as he loved Freya. He attempts to treat her well too, for she is also carrying his child. While not a perfect leader, Ulfric certainly is not the worst King Ostwall has had. He has managed to negotiate peace with Seabel for the time being, but perhaps that is only due to the civil war. Oblivious as ever, he is blind to the fact that his son has been planning his murder for years. Despite his ignorance, he has always been a paranoid man, and he is careful to keep a tight hold on his people and, more generally, his kingdom.

|| Happiest Memory ||
Marrying Freya or rising from poverty

|| Saddest Memory ||
Losing Freya




Face Claim: Sean Bean

So begins...

Ulfric Bjornson's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lucas Brigham Character Portrait: Loria Estermont Character Portrait: Ronan Ulfricson Character Portrait: Cedany Ulfricdottir Character Portrait: Ulfric Bjornson Character Portrait: Adelaide Ulfricdottir
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ImageJousting over, Cedany was growing reckless. She wanted to break away from the crowd and sneak around the castle, but in such a foreign place, being caught could mean strained relationships between the Kingdoms. What else do you think when someone's sneaking around? As the islanders arrived, Cedany sat beside her family and watched. They were beautiful people full of grace and style and Cedany found herself admiring her Island dress even more. As time and heat wore on, things were growing tense and quiet. As she glanced around the room, she saw a spot where instruments had been set up for a possible band. Possibly from the night before as an extension of the ballroom that wasn't used or torn down. She had an idea and groaned inwardly at the thought.

The best way to keep people happy was through entertainment and there was one particular skill she was, unfortunately, good at. Playing the lute. She picked up the large instrument and went to tuning it before returning to her spot near her family. Without a word, she began to play. The music was atmospheric and beautiful and reminded Cedany of walking through art halls at a nobleman's house or a capital building. She allowed the music to flow through her and out of her fingertips as she plucked at the strings. She had even shut her eyes to allow a sense of focus. It was easier to stare at the back of her eyelids than a crowd. She hoped that the islanders enjoyed the song and hopefully things would stay friendly. She always thought fights were entertaining, but after last night and with her family so close together, she didn't think that's what they needed. This crowd of nobles and royals was one step from an all out war. At least, in her opinion.






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ImageAs the group moved inside following the rest of the jousting matches and the arrival of the Islanders, Lucas found himself in front of many of the guests. He knew he should be mingling with their newcomers, but the crowd was growing large and it was making Lucas tense. He found himself searching the crowd for his beautiful Loria and when he found her, he excused himself from a conversation with a particularly chatty guest. Then he made his way to Ris.

He walked up beside her and took ahold of her hand, kissing it softly on her knuckles. "My lady," he greeted her. He twined his fingers through hers and said, "I hope I'm not interrupting, but may I borrow you for a moment or two?" His eyes twinkled as he spoke, but his posture was tense and his grip on her hand was tight, but not painful.

Without waiting for a response, he snuck his love away into a side hall. He took a deep breath once they were free of the crowd and smiled at Ris guiltily. "I'm sorry, Ris. Crowds just.. make me tense. The celebration last night was one thing. There was dancing and joy and good feelings--for the most part, but that room was tense and full of strangers among friends. I was hoping to steal you away for a moment. Get a break from all the people and just be the two of us. Is that alright?"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cedany Ulfricdottir Character Portrait: Ulfric Bjornson Character Portrait: Loras Estermont Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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He was glad that the group had decided to return to the indoors where they would be able to escape the day's heat for just a while. But the respite was short lived. As he sat there, the heat seemed to return ten-fold, and whereas outside, an occasional breeze cooled the air, the air inside was stagnant and oppressive. Ulfric could feel the sweat beading on his forehead, and he wiped at it as he looked around at the others. But he could hardly focus. For once, he didn't enjoy being in the presence of the islanders. There was something peculiar about a group of people who lived in the middle of the sea - especially in the eyes of one who had never left the mainland and never would. But there was another reason he was on edge.

He could still feel the man's hand in his. Loras. He could not forget the name, and when he thought of it, those blue eyes returned to him. Ulfric smiled softly at the thought. He recalled, years ago in his youth, a similar affection for another who had been much older than he. His name escaped him now, for one never learned the personal name of his superiors. One's family name was the only true method of identification. The nights were cold and lonely, and a man only did what he had to do to pass the time - it was not personal like a man's love for a woman. But if it could be.

Ulfric focused himself out of his thoughts as he heard the sound of the lute ring out beside him. He looked down and spotted Cedany hunched slightly over the instrument, eyes shut tightly as she performed a tune for the group. He knew she hated the instrument, but she had a gift of sorts when it came to music. When her song came to an end, he reached over and gave her hair a quick ruffle, smiling slightly at his daughter.

"Watch yourself," he said. "They might start to get the wrong idea about you. Begin to think you're a proper lady." Ulfric looked up as he retracted his hand and noticed as Loras entered the room, followed by his sister and preceded by his father. As they did so, servants were beginning to set the room for some sort of feast, as was expected of a celebration like this. Perhaps he would have time to speak to Loras now, before he was required to sit around with people who hardly held his attention as much as the young knight.

And so he stood, gripping the arms of the chair he sat in as his legs straightened out. They ached, but perhaps, just a little less than usual. As he strode out of the room, he looked to Loras, expressionless, but he hoped the young man would catch just a hint of meaning in his gaze as he passed them and made his way to his chambers.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Loria Estermont Character Portrait: Cedany Ulfricdottir Character Portrait: Chryseis Wulfston Character Portrait: Ulfric Bjornson Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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ImageCedany finished her song and opened her eyes. She frowned at the crowd before her who paid little attention as if she was a paid performer not worth their attention. She suddenly wished she had been playing a violin or a fiddle... something with a stick that she could toss at the group. Her hand tightened around the neck of the instrument as she stood and nearly jumped out of her skin as a hand brushed the top of her head. "Watch yourself," said a familiar voice. "They might start to get the wrong idea about you. Begin to think you're a proper lady." She turned her head to find her father standing beside her, obviously he had been listening.

She smiled softly at him, knowing full well that he meant to make light of the moment. Her playing the stupid instrument to entertain a crowd that could turn hostile and no one listened. His attention turned elsewhere and she slipped away to return the lute to it's rightful place and then searched the crowd for her siblings. They were nowhere to be found.

At first, she started to panic. Last night's fight had shaken her a bit and she worried another would break out and her brothers and sister were nowhere near and her father seemed preoccupied. Then she realized, with a palm to her forehead, that she could just slip away like she usually did. Now would be an excellent time for secret hunting and spying. She wandered into the halls where the rooms were being kept and heard voices coming from one followed by the sound of a knob turning as the door was about to open.

She raced for the door to her left and pulled. It was locked. She tried the one after and found that it was unlocked and empty. She clambered inside and shut the door quietly just as two figured wandered past. "I hope they haven’t eaten all the food yet.” Came a soft, feminine voice. When the footsteps were well past the door, she peaked out and her jaw dropped. Lady Loria, the future queen of Falor was with some strange man. He looked familiar to Cedany but she couldn't place the face with a name. She just knew that there were quite a lot of affairs in the royal houses.. And this one.. she just might share.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lucas Brigham Character Portrait: Loria Estermont Character Portrait: Ronan Ulfricson Character Portrait: Ulfric Bjornson Character Portrait: Genevieve Hansdottir Character Portrait: Loras Estermont
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Her giggle made him grin back, and as she buried into his arm, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. As she spoke though, he slowed to a stop, lips resting just above the crown of her head as he listened. His smile, as well, quickly dissolved from his face, and it was replaced with something that looked pained and discontented.

Ronan's mouth opened and closed with words he wished to speak but could not put volume to. And when she had finished speaking, he still remained silent, struggling to find what he wanted to say to her. He placed a hand under her jaw and lifted her chin so that she looked at him while he pulled his own face away so that they were just inches away.

"No," he said sharply, harsher than he had intended. "He's a tyrant, Genny. He had no right to...he deserves to die for what he did." He seized her wrists, gently this time, and he moved his grip up so that he clasped her hands before him.

"You give me the word, my dearest, and I will make sure he pays dearly for what he did to you," he breathed, the space between them tense as Ronan grew agitated, a sort of lust flashing in his eyes.




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He preceded his children into the hall as they left the confines of his room, joining the rest of the nobles in the sweltering, yet grand, hall. As he entered, Ulfric stood and walked past the family.

"Your Highness," Christoph greeted, bending at the waist subtly as he continued to walk. As he rose, however, he noticed the king's eyes had not left a spot just over his shoulder, and Christoph followed his gaze to where it rested on Loras. A smile flickered at his lips, but he said nothing and merely continued to walk. Loras was a resourceful man - if the king had something in mind, he would certainly act on it. Or, at least, Christoph hoped he would.

Loria was the child he felt most closely resembled him. She was intelligent, quick on her feet, but subtle about it. She would make a fine queen, he noted, as he took a seat and watched her speak to Lucas. But the smile began to fade as she left the room with him. Yes, she was a smart girl, but he worried she would find herself in over her head. Lucas was a boy, a child that Christoph had watched grow up more so than his own children, and yet who knew what he had in mind as the two left the hall? He found that he cared more, in that moment, about the end to a carefully planned engagement than the safety of his own daughter. And what if something truly did happen between the two?

Men change their minds, and their affections are fleeting.

The more he pondered his own words, the more truth he found in them. What if Lucas were the same? But what could he do besides wait? And so he did, gripping one of the arms of the chair with a nervous intensity.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ulfric Bjornson Character Portrait: Loras Estermont Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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#, as written by Demai
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Loras was beginning to think that he had a type--large, hairy, brutish, and warm. When he was younger, all blonde hair and big blue eyes, there had been a man who had come to his doorstep that fit every one of those categories. Of course, he’d followed him around like a duckling would its mother until he left. Perhaps he had not recognized it as such then, and it was not to say that women were not beautiful to him as well. It seemed to be merely a preference. However, he had never thought that this would be a recurring thing.

And yet, there he was, wishing that he could memorize the callouses on Ulfric Bjornson’s hand. The king of Ostwall, Loras, he thought ruefully. He sure knew how to pick them. And yet... There might still be hope. He was a little shaken by his speaking with his father. He always had known that he was the lesser liked child, the one seen as less crafty and more easily used. But he had never once begrudged Ris’ place. It seemed that they were both pulling away from their father’s desires, though, and mentally, for a moment, he prayed for luck to the both of them. He couldn’t get Christoph’s words from his mind, though. Men change their mind, and their affections are fleeting. He knew that was not true of himself--it was one of the things that he and his little sister shared. They loved with their whole being, consistent and true. But... could it be true of Ulfric?

No, he told himself. He would not let himself doubt this man, this man with beautiful eyes and a weathered face and a smile that made his heart feel as if it had been warmed for eternity. A soft strain of music filled the air, and he was taken from his thoughts as he leaned against a wall, glancing towards Ulfric’s daughter, who was playing on a lute. A soft little smile touched his lips. Ris had gone by then, and he mentally wished her safety and contentment. Then, Ulfric’s voice reached his ears, and he let his eyes shut for a moment as he merely... listened. If he could not have the man, he could memorize what he could about him. His intonation, the sound of his laugh...

Then, he heard a chair gently scrape against the stone floor, and he opened his eyes once more just in time to see Ulfric rise. His brow furrowed in slight confusion for a moment. Where was he going? Ulfric started out, and Loras had to force himself not to instantly follow. But then... Then, those jade eyes met his own, and he received that message loud and clear. He waited a little longer, before allowing himself to finally go after him. He went up the stone stairs, up to where the people of Ostwall were living in that moment. He hesitated for a moment, hoping that he was doing this right, that he hadn’t merely terrified the man by holding his hand. But he had wanted him to come, Loras encouraged himself. He was going to be alright. All of this would be alright.

“Ulfric?” He called gently, his voice pitched so as to not reverberate off the walls. He hoped that no one would come up and interrupt them. Please, let no one come up and interrupt them. He knocked on the door, once, twice, three times. Then, he returned his hands to his sides for a moment, soon knotting them together in front of him. He could be patient, he told himself. He was good at being patient.

Probably.