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Sigurthr Arvidson

Every man makes a god of his own desires.

0 · 224 views · located in Valderia

a character in “The First Valderian Expedition”, as played by Percival

Description

"Fortune sides with him who dares." ~ Virgil

Sigurðr Arvidson

Image
Name: Sigurðr Arvidson
Gender: Male
Age: 24
Race: Human

Physical Description & Clothing: Sigurðr has an impressive stature, standing at 6"7 and boasting powerful muscles. He is also a quite handsome man, but with a very stern and serious expression, that can switch to comedic in a second.

Skin color: Quite pale, a light shade of alabaster
Hair color: Light brown(almost gold-ish sometimes), with a reddish tinge.
Eye Color: Bright blue piercing icicles with white specks

Occupation: A wanderer

Bio: Sigurðr (Sigurthr) Was born to a small desolate tribe, which lies on the outskirts on the Northwestern Sea.

Sigurðr was raised in harsh conditions, which left him bitter, as his empty childhood also accomplished, which consisted of eating meal to meal. His father died on a journey back from battle due to hypothermia, leaving his mother to raise him. She did the best she could, but when her health dwindled due to pneumonia his mother sent him away from their tribe to live with his uncle, who was a quite cruel man, he also practiced dark magic, and dabbled in necromancy. Needless to say, he didn't know how to care for a child.

(He returned to his tribe, only to find corpses of his kin)

During his early adult years he moved onto his own and in fact lived by himself. From 19 to 23 he forded the wilderness and learned how to rely on himself, solely. Among his journeys he found a Solarian settlement, where he made his home...

Hometown: Kraftfull Fåtal, as previously stated; located on the outskirts of the Northwestern Sea. Baring frigged and a generally difficult living conditions, It's generally small population is of tough, crude, and stern people who have faced many hardships.

Home country: Nordic Kingdom

Positive Traits:

Calm - His steady hand in the face of danger is a testament to discipline. This sort of calmness has a nullifying effect on others, making them feel almost as un-moving as him.

Charismatic - He has a very out-going and social personality, he draws others around him with jokes and fearful, or sometimes hilarious stories of the freezing conditions he experienced. This charisma is useful to persuade people to agree to his wishes.

Tough - Sigurðr is quite tough and can endure gratuitous amounts of pain and failure before bowing his head. He is also tough minded, treating pain and hardship as an object. A trait he developed from the horrid conditions of his hometown.

Passionate - He is very passionate about a cause he believes in. No matter when he joined the cause, he will be the last one to leave it behind. He finishes what he starts, and with mostly everything he does he puts hard work and emotion into it.

Negative Traits:

Arrogant - In the face of danger he puts his personal health last; and shows everyone on the field the power of the Nords, who've been put on the back-burner in history. He is also prone to brag about his tribe, and himself.

Blunt - Whenever it's with tongue or sword, he is very direct.(although not opposed to tactic) If he doesn't like you, he will look you in the eyes and tell you. This leads to many forming a dislike for him, " A loud annoying barbarian. " He typically doesn't take this lightly. See "Arrogant"

Cold-Hearted - He is inconsiderate of others feelings, and it takes a lot to invoke emotion from him. Making emotional connections with him is also quite hard to accomplish.

Sadistic - He enjoys seeing his enemy in severe pain, even sometimes going as far to spare their life for a while just to see them writhing in discomfort for the remaining moments of their life. He doesn't see this as a problem, something him and most sadists have in common. He enjoys extreme violence as well.

This snippet describes it's roots and expected scenarios.
"...is known for being unpredictably violent because they are disappointed and/or frustrated with their lives. When they are feeling humiliated or hopeless, they lose control and seek revenge for the mistreatment and deprecation to which they feel subjected. These violent behaviors are revealed through tantrums, and fearsome attacks on others. "

Fears: His fears are of being forgotten, being disabled, and freezing to death

Likes: Art, sparring, killing, and writing (keeps a journal of his journeys)

Dislikes: Dis-loyalty, warm weather, and cowardice.

Skills and Abilities Sigurðr is a powerful hand to hand combatant, and he is more than proficient with his axe and shield. He is also a good artist, and draws pictures to accompany his journal.

Equipment & Weapons: His weapons include an axe and a sizable knife equipped to his boot. He also has a medium sized round shield. He wears a bronze variation of a spangenhelm known as a spectacle helmet, obviously due to the large goggle like mask covering the top facial area. He also has a red cape, iron breastplate, leather gauntlets and greaves, leather and bear pelt kilt, and iron boots.

Magic: Spiritual Magic

I'm feelin' nice

So begins...

Sigurthr Arvidson's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kaus Meridion Character Portrait: Hela Alyndra Character Portrait: Claire Lucion Character Portrait: Ruth Character Portrait: Sigurthr Arvidson
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The announcement was no big news, such events where common. Joining such causes had even gained bad reputation, for the slavers who pulled the routine to kidnap unsuspecting adventurers. Not only did that make him cautious, but a magic vault? You'd think if someone where to seek a magic vault they'd recruit skilled mercenaries and adventurers to pull off the job... Not squeal out in the middle of a pub? Usually the quests people set out on were of more mundane proportions, raiding, cave exploration etc... And this being so much more monumental just made him think that it was salvers even more.

His thought process was interrupted by the crowd he had attracted around him; in telling a story about a snowstorm that got him lost in a forest for a week.

"How did you find your way home? You said your tracks where covered by the storm?" Said a woman he had been charming.

"Oh... hold on."

He moved over to the small Teker child, on the way there he casually sipped a pint while dodging the thick populace of the pub.

He apprehensively approached him and said

"So... A "magic vault?" I'm gonna be completely honest, that sounds insane."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kaus Meridion Character Portrait: Hela Alyndra Character Portrait: Claire Lucion Character Portrait: Skoggr Character Portrait: Ruth Character Portrait: Sigurthr Arvidson
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Skoggr was old. How old, he could not say. Ancient was a safe bet. He sat up on his rock-hard bed, feeling his joints ache and hunger claw at his emaciated frame. Looking around, he saw that he was in his home--a small shack with a dying fire and nothing else but a heap of tattered clothes and the bed. There was no food, but the old man knew there rabbit traps outside even his battered from could use.

Had any visitors today?

As he knew there must, a spider cloistered itself in the dark corner opposite the bed. Skoggr closed his eyes, and opened them again. With a feeble grunt, he struggled to his feet, the wolf skin cloak covering his body parting to reveal a near-skeletal body.

"No, but you knew that already." He said to the spider, his voice raspy and paper-thin. For a long moment, it sat there in the shadows, silent.

Then it's legs twitched, and it crawled up and along the ceiling.

You do so love to spoil the fun, don't you?


"You don't control me." Skoggr said, more than a little horrified that his voice held a faint edge of feeble defiance. In response the spider laughed, and dropped down from the ceiling on a thread of web, stopping in front of the old man's face.

Not yet, not completely. But here I reign, old man.

As the spider spoke, it began to grow. Eventually, it grew so large, the thread snapped, and the arachnid slammed onto the floor. Eyes wide with fear, Skoggr stumbled back, only to fall to the floor. His hip broke, and he felt the pain shoot up his side, and he whimpered pathetically. More profound than his fear of the creature before him was the bottomless terror that know one would come to save him--or care if he died. The spider's eyes became more visible as it grew, and each one was a leering face, visages of men he'd killed. It spoke, the faces talking for the mandibles, a chorus of disjointed voices.

That time will come soon enough, it began, savoring Skoggr's horror. Until then, it is time for us to wake up. We are thirsty. Thirrrrrsssssty...

----------------


Skoggr almost fell out of the tree. Stifling a scream, he managed to right himself before plummeting to the ground. He had forgotten that he'd fallen asleep astride a large tree limb, just as he'd forgotten what time or day it was. Waking up usually left him confused these days. The Jackal had that effect--well, that and the lack of companionship to offer a point of reference to his periods of unconsciousness.

Good morning, Haakon.

The voice had followed him out of his nightmare. It always did. Despite his pounding heart, Skoggr managed to sigh. "Don't call me that." For all intents and purposes, he was talking to himself. Yet the voice--the Jackal as it liked to be called--laughed in response.

But we do so love the old names. Ever considered using them again?

"And cede control to you? I'm no fool." After a moment, he glanced at his companion, who had been watching the self-conversation with wide eyes. "What do you think? Should I take his advice?"

His companion wouldn't, couldn't answer. The corpse hung by it's ankles from a limb higher up the tree, a man by the bared torso covered in lacerations. Ribbons of torn clothing clung to the body, the color denoting him as a now-former Solarian soldier. The face, in death bled from the mouth and retained a look of horror.

Skoggr shook his head, and waved a dismissive hand at the body. "Of course I shouldn't. So Skoggr it remains. Why did you wake me up?"

Enjoying your nap, were you?

"You know the answer to that. But clearly you want something. You usually take your time when I sleep."

The Jackal giggled, and Skoggr almost felt it caress his mind with broken claws.

Too true, I do enjoy your terror. No one else gets to see it, so I feel all the more privileged. But yes, Skoggr. We are thirsty. Your parched throat would agree, yes? I want you to keep your body in good shape, otherwise, what's the point?

Skoggr couldn't argue with that, though he wouldn't relinquish his body to the malevolence that stalked his mind. So he tossed his gear to the ground, climbed down to the ground, and with gear in hand, went off to find the nearest tavern. Behind him, the body hung abandoned. Ravens had already gathered, ready to feast.

----------------

The place was called Ashlain, and Skoggr gained access easy enough. Security at the entrances to the town were lax in their duties, and a hooded cloak was enough to get him in. After a number of inquiries, he found a decent enough tavern and stepped inside. It was busy, though the Nord was unsurprised. The sign proclaimed it as The Silver Gazelle Inn, though Skoggr doubted much silver had been paid to build the place. It looked like the thousands of taverns he'd passed through--or burnt to the ground.

Inside the atmosphere was cluttered and the atmosphere rich with conversation, each group trying to talk over the others. Skoggr ignored it all, as he forced his way to the bar. Anyone who took exception was rewarded with a glare baleful enough to stifle any defiance. The bartender asked for his order, and the Nord requested a mug of ale and some bread. After a moment to inspect the authenticity of the gold scrap Skoggr had paid with, the man went to fill his order.

And that's when he heard the young man. At first, he ignored it. Someone looking for a quick grab at glory, he supposed. Then he noticed the youth in the voice, followed by the mention of a magical vault. It sounded ridiculous. He was about to wish the foolish man ill luck when the Jackal decided to offer unwanted advice.

A vault...this could be good for us Haakon.

Skoggr snarled, but remained silent. It wouldn't do if he were caught talking to himself out loud. Instead, he stared pointedly at the mug of ale that had just been set down in front of him.

Perhaps a win-win? Wealth for us both...perhaps freedom for you?
It crooned.

That, was intriguing, and a possibility too good to pass up. Skoggr looked over at the young man, and found that he'd already been accosted by the unemployed. He noticed a couple women, a man, and--he noticed with a scowl--a dwarf. That alone almost kept him at his drink. Yet the echoes of the malevolent voice in his head forced him to grab his axe and approach the youth.

"I imagine you'll need someone to keep your head attached to your shoulders." Skoggr said as he approached the group. The poleaxe he carried in his hand thumped periodically as he walked, using it like a staff. "I can provide that service."

He smiled, though the expression lacked warmth. But his eyes, as cold as they were, held a measure of sincerity.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Miroch Vutan Character Portrait: Kaus Meridion Character Portrait: Hela Alyndra Character Portrait: Claire Lucion Character Portrait: Skoggr Character Portrait: Ruth Character Portrait: Sigurthr Arvidson
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#, as written by RCJJ23
Miroch woke to his half dressed body standing up in the middle of the room, in the process of pulling on his robes. He groaned inwardly at this.

Gorrjen, you know I don't like it when you control my body in my sleep. At least dream speak this to me before doing so...

I forget sometimes Miroch, forgive me for that. Besides, don't you appreciate my help?

You were putting the robes on the wrong way round. The dragon is on my left, not my right.

In the decades he had been bound to the Dragon spirit, they had developed a certain bond, allowing him to speak silently to him with his thoughts. Despite the spirit being millennia older than he was, the personality he had were if it were a younger brother to him. Their enjoyment of each other's company was mutual. Miroch took off his robes off, leaving him in just his pants, his staff, armored gauntlets and boots still next to the bed. The room he had rented was a little on the expensive side, but his usual habits of living without luxury had made Miroch a small fortune, especially with the money he made in the times where he got paid well. This wasn't the first inn that he had stayed in during his stay in Alshain though. It was his second one. Damned Nords and their drinking habits, getting drunk and starting fights. Despite the fact that he just defended himself, four unconscious patrons, two broken tables, and a shattered mug sealed his case. The fact he was an elf with black hair did not help at all, the innkeeper probably taking that as a bad omen. He was kicked out, but at least he didn't need to pay for damages, probably because the innkeeper thought his money cursed if he took any more from him.

It was a few more minutes before he went downstairs. He noted a strange woman, a Teker from the looks of it, in the corner, a pair of women, one a fox Kindred who dressed rather... provocatively and a red headed Dwarf. Besides those three, he didn't see any noticeable people that were worth thinking about for more than a few seconds. He sat down at one of the empty tables after ordering a mug of water and a simple meal of bread with soup. It was a few more minutes before they arrived at his table and he started to tuck in.

That's when he heard a man's voice cut through the sedated clamor of the inn. He sounded young from what he could discern and Miroch only lifted his head at the mention of hunting for a Magic Vault. It was only recently that he's started to hear prospective adventurers call up expeditions, but usually they preferred hulking Nords and scholarly types to wandering elves who looked like monks, minus the hair cut. The young man was already starting to be approached by various peoples. The three he noted earlier, and two humans, one taller than him, another about the same height, from what he could judge at the distance he was in.

You want to do this?

Why are you asking me? I am merely a spirit bound to you. With you conscious I can't do anything besides bestow you my power or take it away.

Which is what you did the last time I did something you didn't like.

You weren't in any danger. You could have taken that ogre with one arm.

What is your answer?

Go ahead. As long as you don't get us killed I don't really mind you going on this expedition of sorts.

With the mental conversation done, Miroch finished his meal and drink before heading to the small gathering of prospective adventurers.

"I heard you were taking people to search for a Magic Vault, well, consider me one of the people that'd like to be taken with you."

If anyone took notice of his hair color and gave him any strange looks he would look at them, and with a straight face say

"No. It is not painted."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Miroch Vutan Character Portrait: Kaus Meridion Character Portrait: Hela Alyndra Character Portrait: Claire Lucion Character Portrait: Skoggr Character Portrait: Ruth Character Portrait: Sigurthr Arvidson
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April 9--8:33 AM
Alshain, Solarian Empire


Of course there would be someone trying to dissuade him from going on this journey...Kaus looked at the tall man with light brown hair who commented about how his goal seemed "insane." With a completely serious expression, he retorted, "If that's the case, then believe me--a lot of Tekers probably have gone insane already. And they don't have any clues on where to look to begin with..."

He paused when he realized just how supremely arrogant he sounded, and just pretended to get distracted by the second man who approached him. This man...also seemed like pretty bad news. His ghostly white face was painted in black and red, and the expression he carried seemed a bit colder. Could he be trusted...?

But Kaus had no idea how to refuse anyone without seeming discriminatory, so he forced a smile and replied, "Well, if you want to provide that service, that's fine. Welcome aboard, sir. But could I get--"

Before he could finish, yet another person walked up to him and asked to join. Looking him up and down, Kaus was surprised to see a High Elf...with black hair? As if on cue, this newcomer assured him that his hair wasn't dyed. Hm...maybe I'll ask him about it some time later.

"Alright then. Welcome to the team," he greeted the elf. "But, as I was saying...could I get your names first?" He gestured to both the elf and the man with the painted face.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Miroch Vutan Character Portrait: Kaus Meridion Character Portrait: Hela Alyndra Character Portrait: Claire Lucion Character Portrait: Skoggr Character Portrait: Ruth Character Portrait: Sigurthr Arvidson
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#, as written by RCJJ23
Miroch looked at the man and inwardly smacked himself for forgetting his manners.

You know, I could have reminded you to do that.

Very funny.

"I apologize, I forget myself. My name is Miroch Vutan, pleasure to meet you Kaus Meridion."

(Sorry for the shortish post, I did put a large one. Please don't murder my soul and eat it for lunch.)

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Miroch Vutan Character Portrait: Kaus Meridion Character Portrait: Hela Alyndra Character Portrait: Claire Lucion Character Portrait: Skoggr Character Portrait: Ruth Character Portrait: Sigurthr Arvidson
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"If that's the case, then believe me--a lot of Tekers probably have gone insane already. And they don't have any clues on where to look to begin with..." The Teker threw a retort, but stopped mid sentence.

He semi-angrily bellowed while forcing a smile "Well then lets stop the small talk and get on with it shall we?" his words interrupted
any other party speaking at the time; unapologetically. He took a seat near the incoming crowd of adventurers and finished off his pint.

He looked especially disfavorably down upon the black haired elf. He said condescendingly "Treerat." although the loud banter of the tavern made it almost impossible to hear, elf ears are impeccably large.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Miroch Vutan Character Portrait: Kaus Meridion Character Portrait: Hela Alyndra Character Portrait: Claire Lucion Character Portrait: Skoggr Character Portrait: Ruth Character Portrait: Sigurthr Arvidson
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Skoggr waited patiently until the agitated Nord and the strange elf had finished their introductions. Unlike most of his people, he lacked the hair-trigger temper they were so famous for. It often amused him to see it from others, an almost sadistic pleasure in watching others get angry.

That was easy, Haakon. We should place our trust only in ourselves. By which I mean me, of course. That boy may know what he's seeking, but can we count on him to make decisions?

The Nord was forced to agree. Had he not been so desperate to rid himself of the spirit, the idea would have been too ridiculous to even consider. It said something about his situation that he was willing to go against his cautious nature and join the venture.

By the time the two had finished interrupting him, Skoggr's smile had slowly faded into the perpetually grim scowl that was his passive expression. Pale gray eyes measured the young man, and found him wanting. "I'm called Skoggr." he replied tonelessly to the boy.

"I'll be nearby when you're ready to talk more." He stopped himself as he turned to head back to the bar. "And watch the shin-kickers, they're not worth the coin they'll drag from your purse." Skoggr deliberately eyed the dwarf, and then headed in the direction of his fellow Nord. The man moved like a wildcat hunting prey, his steps a careful economy of motion that kept cadence by the thumping of the poleaxe on the tavern floor.

You've always been exceptional at making friends, Skoggr. I'm sure your funeral will drown in tears of mourning. The Jackal snickered.

"I'm going to flay you alive and use your hide to line my chamber pot." Skoggr whispered quietly to himself. He nodded a greeting to his fellow Nord, and took a seat near him, already reaching for coin to purchase another drink.

"I'd wager that i'm mad, but you look like you have some sense. Why are you going with the whelp?" The question was posed to the Nord, in lieu of a greeting.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Miroch Vutan Character Portrait: Kaus Meridion Character Portrait: Hela Alyndra Character Portrait: Claire Lucion Character Portrait: Skoggr Character Portrait: Ruth Character Portrait: Sigurthr Arvidson Character Portrait: Valar Karackson
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#, as written by Eyliel
As expected, the younger Teker accepted Claire into the group. She did have a few doubts about whether he could do the job of a leader properly, with all the hesitation in his voice, along with his obvious youth. Claire didn't think anything along the lines of 'well, he's a fellow Teker, so he must be a rational person', either. She had seen many of her fellow Tekers act very irrationally during her life. They had condemned her Alchemy, after all. In fact... Kaus seemed to be looking at her newest creation as if it were a bad thing. Claire almost felt annoyed at that, but realized perfectly well that the boy had only seen its results -which were, admittably, rather suspicious- and didn't know anything about the process behind it. Thus, his reaction was only natural, and she couldn't think badly of him because of it. "You don't have to drink it. Unless you want to, of course."

Mere moments after, she spotted a few other people approaching them. Those were... She had never seen a member of either race, as Malera was almost purely populated by Tekers, and she had never left the city before this, but she believed they were a dwarf and a member of the odd group of races called 'the Kindred'. Claire had always found their kind interesting. Before she had found Alchemy, she had once considered becoming a scholar of Kindred, finding out everything there was about them. But that was in the past. She now had far more important things to focus her intellectual efforts on.

"It seems like you will be getting more company, Kaus. I will not be distracting you while you take care of the negotiations for our bodyguards and such." While she would have liked to exchange a few words with the volunteers who were approaching them, she had a few other things to take care of first.

Claire slid a hand under her large cloak, seeking out the sturdily made bag she had hidden underneath. It was a type often used by scholars and the like who often carried books they didn't want getting wet, made from a rare leather that completely repelled water, and designed in a way that took full advantage of this. Unless it was actually dropped into a lake, not a drop would make its way inside. There were even some enchanted varieties that would have worked even then, but Claire had forsaken magic long ago. Although others might have called her Alchemy a type of magic as well, Claire did not consider it such. Alchemy was so much more.

From the bag, she pulled out a small book, along with a carefully sealed ink bottle and a quill. She opened the book at about halfway through it, unsealed the ink bottle and dipped the quill into the ink. And then, she began to write down everything about her experiment with alcohol before the details faded from her memory. The quill moved with an astonishing speed. Even among experienced writers, it was impressive, but to someone who mostly read things without having ever written a book of their own -or at least been writing letters regularly, or kept a journal- it would be unbelievably fast. A few might suspect that she was just randomly moving her hand without actually writing anything, but if they stopped to read what she wrote, they would find that each letter was perfectly clear. Although the message itself wouldn't make too much sense to an outsider, filled with many strange terms and abbreviations.

Once, during her writing, Claire took a longer look at the bottle of ink. It reminded her of something. One of her colleagues had told her about an invention of his when they had exchanged information on Alchemy. A better type of ink. She should try to replicate it one of these days. With all the writing she did, it was of vital importance that she had good ink always at her disposal. But that was for later. Now, she had to concentrate on this.

More people came to them as she wrote, and she paid little heed to them, noting a few things about each one. A Nord. One of those huge people. During what little time she had spent outside the United Teker States, she hadn't met many of them that appreciated fine scholarly pursuits. Of course, that might have had something to do with the fact that she had spent most of her time in taverns instead of places of higher social status, so she couldn't say anything for sure. Regardless, so far her impression was hardly of people that she could engage in scholarly debate with. But that wasn't really that important. While she preferred company with interests similar to her own, Nord did make for fine drinking companions, and often had interesting stories to tell. Therefore, she intended to socialize with the man had some point.

Next was... another Nord? A rather short one, though still taller than Claire herself. This one was a bit interesting. What was the purpose of that paint on his face, she wondered. She noted how very pale he was. What was it with Nords -well, most non-Tekers, actually- and their almost white skin? To her eyes, they seemed like they were suffering from some kind of deadly illness or the like, but she knew that it was natural for them. It made her a bit interested, actually. she should try studying the skin at some point, see if she could find out the reason some had light skin and some had dark skin. She made a brief note at the edge of the book so that she would remember that idea.

Then came an elf. With black hair. How curious. Didn't elves usually have very light hair? How curious. It reminded her of the idea she'd just had. Maybe she should try studying hair, too. She made a note on that, then sighed. So many projects to do, so little time. It seemed like she would need a potion of immortality or something if she wanted to learn everything she wanted to learn. Elves were long-lived, were they not. Another note: 'Research on elven life span, possibility to extend human life span?' So much to do, so much to learn.

It seemed like all three were accepted into their little group as well. So they were now seven people strong. It seemed like this expedition might actually work. Claire memorized the names of the new people as they introduced themselves, making sure she'd remember when she'd speak to them later.

Once the two Nords left to drink together, Claire ceased her writing for a moment, turning towards the elf man -Miroch Vutan, he'd called himself- and the dwarf and Kindred women. "My apologies for my rudeness earlier. I am Claire Lucion, and I believe I will be in charge of this group's healthcare. If you find yourselves getting wounded or ill, do seek me out. It is a pleasure to meet you, Miroch, Hela, Ruth." She should introduce herself to the two Nords later as well.

"Now then..." She turned towards Kaus. "It would seem like you have gotten quite a few volunteers in a short time. Since this seems to be succesful so far... I will be looking forward to your leadership." At that moment, she caught sight of something. Most likely, most others in the room also did. It would have been very hard to miss the Nord. While Claire had thought one of the Nords earlier had been huge... This one was positively gigantic. Very... very impressive.

"...What do you say? He seems like he would make for a good addition to our bodyguards. You should try recruiting him." With that, Claire gave Kaus a push towards the enormous Nord that had just arrived. "Go on, do your thing, great leader." She wanted the Nord on her side, but wasn't about to approach him herself. Recruiting new people was one of the leader's duties. It definitely had nothing to do with his intimidating size. Though she wasn't heartless enough to send him in unarmed. "Wait. It's dangerous to go alone, take this." She handed Kaus her own 'specially made ale'. It was still an unfinished product, but a single mug had still been enough to down a formerly sober Nord... Although that Nord hadn't been nearly the size of this one.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Miroch Vutan Character Portrait: Kaus Meridion Character Portrait: Hela Alyndra Character Portrait: Claire Lucion Character Portrait: Ice Character Portrait: Skoggr Character Portrait: Ruth Character Portrait: Sigurthr Arvidson Character Portrait: Valar Karackson
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April 9--8:33 AM
Alshain, Solarian Empire


When that tall man who had called his expedition "insane" cut into the conversation again--not to mention insulted another one of his new companions--Kaus had to try hard not to glare in his direction. That guy...the way he talks, he's not saying he's interested; he's forcing himself into the group! I shouldn't accept him at all. "Miroch and Skoggr, then...got it," he replied to the other two men, making a great effort to smile. Attending to so many people at once was starting to tax his mind.

Skoggr, who already seemed disappointed in his new employer, told Kaus to let him know when they could talk some more, before going off to have a drink with that tall man. Come to think of it, he didn't know that man's name...and wasn't sure if he wanted to, either.

At that moment, he heard Claire talking to him--something about looking forward to his leadership. Just after she said that, however, she looked to another part of the room, and noticed something. "...What do you say? He seems like he would make for a good addition to our bodyguards. You should try recruiting him," she urged, before pushing Kaus towards a certain part of the tavern.

"Whoa!" Kaus yelped, quickly managing to regain his balance. "Hang on, who are you talking ab..." His words trailed off when he realized which direction she had been pushing him in. Oh my god...that can't be a person, that's a GIANT! "No, wait, Claire, are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, he doesn't look li-"

"Go on, do your thing, great leader," Claire insisted, as if oblivious to his protests. "Wait. It's dangerous to go alone, take this." The next moment, she handed him...that deadly concoction. Yep, that one with which she had sent some man off to presumably some (un)pleasant dream.

Somehow, the drink didn't give Kaus any more confidence than if he had been walking towards this absolute titan with a set of full armor. "Uh..." At this point, though, he didn't know if he could even argue his way out of this anymore. Swallowing down a huge gulp of air, he slowly approached the giant, cringing in anticipation.

He didn't even get halfway across the room when something else crazy happened (at this point, Kaus was wondering if he had disturbed the balance of the universe merely by walking into this tavern). The shrill notes of a flute sliced through all conversations in the room, followed by a heavily-accented voice calling out to all of them. "Ladddis..spirits and gentlemenn...t'night, wee havin dee greit honorrr of havin' sevveral spirrits of note amongst usss...sss...ss..."

Confused, Kaus looked around for the owner of this voice, before realizing it was coming from barely a meter next to him. Realizing he was a bit too close to the performance for comfort, he rushed to the other side of the room, careful not to spill Claire's ale.

"Without furrther delay'a, ill'a begin," Three loud knocks, the sound of wood against wood. "Isss there any one der?, Oneo knock forr no, two knockss for yesss." When Kaus turned around, he saw that the owner of the voice was a ferret-Kindred garbed in a faded blue coat and light brown pants, carrying a wooden staff.

"Ha! Anyone can do that sort of trick, furball!" a voice called from another corner of the room. However, the ferret man merely smiled and raised his staff, somehow conjuring up the image of a man Kaus didn't recognize. This image then proceeded to dance around as though it were controlled by the most incompetent puppeteer ever, to the delight of the onlookers.

As several other images of different people joined this one, the ferret man walked up to Kaus proudly. "Well sirr, did I passs de qualifiers? My spirit and'I would vverry mucha'lik ta join yur adventurrr," he drawled.

Unsure of what to say about the display, Kaus had difficulty finding his voice. "I...didn't really need 'qualifiers,'" he managed. "But yes, we'd appreciate it if you joined." The people he was attracting were getting stranger and stranger...

Well, now for the elephant in the room. Quite literally, in fact. Turning back to the enormous man Claire had scouted out, Kaus approached him slowly, tentatively. He cleared his throat, before looking up with the best smile he could produce. "Um...hello," he greeted, trying not to let his nervousness show. "I'm Kaus Meridion. I'm recruiting people to search for a Magic Vault. Do you...think you'd be interested?"

He prayed desperately that this man wouldn't reward his efforts with a punch in the face.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Miroch Vutan Character Portrait: Kaus Meridion Character Portrait: Hela Alyndra Character Portrait: Claire Lucion Character Portrait: Skoggr Character Portrait: Ruth Character Portrait: Sigurthr Arvidson
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#, as written by RCJJ23
Miroch watched as the two Nords wandered off to, presumably, get a drink. At least, that's what Miroch expected of them. As much as he did not like the idea of placing stereotypes on people, the fact that most of the Nords that he met fit the stereotype of hulking masses of muscle, with a brain the size of pebble, an ego twice the size of their bodies and a penchant for strong drink. While there were variations here and there, the one thing that usually was constant was their love of drink. Then he watched as the Teker woman, Claire Lucion, spoke to him and the dwarf woman and the Kindred then turned to Kaus, speaking before pointing out the giant Nord that just entered. After Claire put something in Kaus's hands before pushing him off towards the gigantic Nord. Then he turned as the dwarf woman spoke, and then the Kindred. When she mentioned his hair and how it looked nice, Miroch felt a trickling of anger slipping past his guard, but that was quickly quashed by Gorrjen.

Miroch. You're getting sloppy.

I know.

You're still going to say something.

Yes, I am. Not in anger, but for knowledge.

He turned to the Kindred woman, whose name he still hadn't caught yet.

"Well, I thank you for saying my hair looks 'nice', but none of my brethren would agree. Besides that, I didn't catch any of your names. You already know mine, but what are yours?"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Miroch Vutan Character Portrait: Kaus Meridion Character Portrait: Hela Alyndra Character Portrait: Claire Lucion Character Portrait: Ice Character Portrait: Skoggr Character Portrait: Ruth Character Portrait: Sigurthr Arvidson Character Portrait: Valar Karackson
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April 9--8:36 AM
Alshain, Solarian Empire


With fingers about as big as salami rolls , the giant man prodded Kaus in the chest multiple times while expressing...a lot of doubt, to say the least...about his quest. Grabbing onto a chair to steady himself, Kaus made a second attempt to sound more convincing. "But you can't have searched the entire wilderness, can you? Besides, it's more likely the Vault will be underground, and I doubt you could find anything like that so easily, even if..."

Actually, wait...do I really need to bother with this guy? I've already got...uh...Miroch, Claire, Hela, Ruth, Skoggr, that ferret man...six people who agreed to come with me without arguing too much. So even if this guy doesn't want to join us, we should be fine, right?

Slowly, Kaus made a decision. "...actually, never mind. If you're really not interested, the deal's off," he declared, stepping away. He tried not to look too angry, but the words were bitter in his mouth. Ah, well...it was bound to happen eventually.

Turning to the ferret Kindred, he added, "Better come with me. Let's get you introduced to the others." Quickly, he strode to the others, who were still standing at the bar--it seemed they were introducing themselves to each other. Well, except for Skoggr, who was currently having a drink.

"Okay, guys," he called, looking over each of them. "We've picked up one more member..." He gestured to the ferret man at that point. "...so, I think we should be fine heading out with these numbers. Is there anything you guys think we need before leaving Alshain?"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: [NPC] Bartender Character Portrait: Miroch Vutan Character Portrait: Kaus Meridion Character Portrait: Hela Alyndra Character Portrait: Claire Lucion Character Portrait: Ice Character Portrait: Skoggr Character Portrait: Ruth Character Portrait: Sigurthr Arvidson
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Ice looked around him grinning broadly from whisker to whisker towards the newly created band of adventure. He gave them all a professional bow, holding his right arm above his chest. Lore silently applauded him for getting into the band, eager to learn more about the past she could barley recall. Ice thought to say goodbye to his former troupe, but smiled slightly remembering that goodbyes where simply not the Ferret way, they would always meet again ether in the flesh or the spirit.

Human lands had really started to make him sentimental...

"Ello, Im's glad to'a being picked'up by neww humi bosss-man. Amongss me kin people, i'a got callerd Emaki-blizamin-spwara, 'maki knows'a find Ferret-kin hard'un yur speek, so 'maki calls him'a Ice in humi lands - Im'an Ice Ferret kin yu'seee".

Turning to the boss, Ice looked curiously and thought of what humi's might need traveling around.

"Humi boss-man might wanna buy'a some warm'a fur clothes, weather can'una all cold like real'a quick. Humi knows!". said Ice, hoping to be helpful to the poor humi's who didn't have their own fur.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Miroch Vutan Character Portrait: Kaus Meridion Character Portrait: Hela Alyndra Character Portrait: Claire Lucion Character Portrait: Ice Character Portrait: Skoggr Character Portrait: Ruth Character Portrait: Sigurthr Arvidson
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April 9--8:36 AM
Alshain, Solarian Empire


Frowning slightly, Kaus tried to make sense of what the ferret man said--his accent made it a bit hard to understand his words. "...so...you want us to call you Ice, and you recommend we get fur coats?" he asked, just to be sure. "Not a bad idea, but the Heartland gets pretty warm at this time of year, so I don't know how much we'll need those coats...nonetheless, we're traveling out to the wilderness, so I guess we should prepare ourselves for any scenario."

Just as he finished speaking, that one Nord cut in again, introducing himself as "Sig", before standing up and walking to the doorway. Just perfect. So he's coming along after all. Wonder if I'll have to keep him in check...? Aw, geez.

Hela explained that she and Ruth had all their gear ready, before leaving to get their drinks which were still at their table. As she returned, however, Ruth looked straight at Kaus with an even more serious expression (how was that possible?!)."Just one more question, lad. I'd like to think ya got yer head screwed on right. So before we go, I'd like some insight on yer plans. Findin' a magic vault's a big claim after all."

Considering for a moment, Kaus rummaged in his satchel before bringing out two books--one was covered in unfamiliar glyphs, while the other was in the language used by all three human kingdoms. "I don't know how much more faith you'll have in me after this, but here we go," he warned. "In fact, the rest of you probably should listen..."

He repositioned himself to stand closer to the center of the group, beckoning the others to get closer so they wouldn't miss a detail in the noise of the tavern. "You all remember that one Vault was found about a year ago, right? I went there myself while they were trying to break it open. And when we finally did open it, there was magic, yeah...but not just that. Among other things, I found a number of books inside, like this one--" He held up the book with the strange glyphs here. "--and my family was allowed to bring some of them home with us, in order to discover more about the Elder civilization."

Flipping open the book, looking through the various slips of paper he had put in as bookmarks, he continued, "I'm afraid we still don't understand much about them, especially their language, but there was one interesting thing I discovered." Finding a certain note, he opened it up to reveal a map which spanned two pages. "This appears to be the continent on which the Elders lived...well, part of it, at least. But...do you see this?"

His finger pointed at various lines running across the map to various dots, as though they were constellations. "Yes...if these dots are cities, then they had some...paths or something running between all of them. It might seem crazy, but...oh. Sorry, I need this briefly."

Taking Hela's mug and putting it down on the book so it'd stay open on that page, he raised the other book--the one belonging to humans--and flipped it open, revealing a map of the Heartland, Alne, and the various Teker city states. "Here's the strange part. The landscape in this book is different from what the Elder map showed, and the coastline also doesn't quite match. And yet...and I pity whichever cartographer had to add these in..."

Surely enough, the exact same paths were carved into the human map, in the exact same patterns and the exact same scale. There were no longer dots appearing at every intersection, but it still matched almost perfectly. "About two months ago, I even followed some of these paths myself to see if it was true. There are...dried river beds, or something of that sort, following those exact patterns," Kaus continued, quickly building towards his conclusion. "I don't know if this plan completely works, but I'm guessing if we try and find those Elder cities...that might lead us to a Vault!"

Finished talking, he waited for a response, hoping his claims didn't sound like hoaxes.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Miroch Vutan Character Portrait: Kaus Meridion Character Portrait: Hela Alyndra Character Portrait: Claire Lucion Character Portrait: Ice Character Portrait: Skoggr Character Portrait: Kav the Stout Character Portrait: Ruth Character Portrait: Sigurthr Arvidson
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#, as written by RCJJ23
Before reaching the smithy and before Hela's question, Miroch thought about his response to Kaus's question. While it was a decent idea to get a wagon, it would also present some difficulties. Whilst it provided a sort of shelter should any of them get injured, and it would have helped in carrying whatever they needed, if they were going into the Wilderness the wagon would also present the threat of not only beast attacks, but if they were close to any major roads, no doubt a opportunistic bandit attack as well. There were many who were desperate enough to assault even a pack of adventurers such as this, and few who were cunning enough to formulate a plan, and some garnered enough attention through number alone. The wagon would also significantly slow the pace of the expedition down, with paths needing to be cleared for the wagon to proceed. Then came the problem to care for whatever was to pull the wagon along, if they were to be killed or sustain any injuries, it would be likely that it would be nigh on impossible for them to progress with it. Still, it would be up to the group to decide, he still had to answer Kaus's question. By the time he was done thinking, he had zoned out sufficiently that he found himself at the blacksmith with another Kindred, that he vaguely recalled was name Kav. Then Hela spoke up, and after Kaus answered the question, Miroch would speak.

"I have thought about what you have asked me Kaus, about the wagon. While it is true that it would help us with carrying items, and it could provide a shelter for those who are injured, we must also think about the disadvantages of getting one. The chance that bandits might attack is relatively high, even with a group like this. Many are desperate enough to attack, and there are a few that are smart enough to come up with a good enough plan and others just have sheer numbers on their side. A wagon would also limit out ability to travel through the Wilderness, with our need to clear a path big enough for it. Then whatever is pulling our wagon will also be another concern that we would have to address. If they were to be killed, or even sustain injury serious enough to disable them, then we are unlikely to be able to move the wagon. All of these factors will be different in severity depending on the size of the wagon we might take of course. Honestly, I feel like if we were to get a wagon, a small one would likely be a decent choice. Larger if were really planning on spending several months in the Wilderness."

You know, you've said more in the past day then you've said in the past few months.

Really? No wonder my throat is starting to get sore.

Though, you have spent the last few months not doing much work that required talking, and this Kaus does seem like the type that will need guidance, especially with the lack of experience we've seen so far. Why did we join this boy again?

Desperation. Desperation is all this is. If this doesn't go well enough I might think about leaving the next time we're in town. After all, there are other things I can try.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Miroch Vutan Character Portrait: Kaus Meridion Character Portrait: Hela Alyndra Character Portrait: Claire Lucion Character Portrait: Ice Character Portrait: Kav the Stout Character Portrait: Ruth Character Portrait: Sigurthr Arvidson
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Skoggr had been walking a slight distance away from the rest of the group. That did not mean he wasn't paying attention. He noticed when the battered looking Stoatkin joined the group, and he also noticed when the elf spoke up. The Nord listened to talk of banditry, and scoffed. Bandits were the low of the low, scorned and spit upon by raiders like himself.

He gave the elf a disappointed look. "Bandits are easy enough. They're driven by desperation and fear. That, is how you beat them. When the first group attacks, you kill them."

As he spoke, Skoggr's eyes glinted with malevolence. "Let some run. Track them. Kill some more in the night, loudly. Make sure they scream. You leave trophies--totems, if you will--to be found by those who would think they could do better. Oh, and leave a survivor. Always leave a survivor. Terror is such a wonderfully effective tool."

Having said his piece, Skoggr withdrew his malignant gaze from the group. The Jackal scraped it's claws across his ravaged mind and cackled. The Nord would never have been above committing such horrible acts, but the spirit infesting his head made such thoughts almost pleasurable, rather than the brutal-but-necessary tactic he otherwise would have considered it.

The acute self-disgust he began to feel faded as they reached the smithy. Skoggr's own gear was in immaculate condition, as he did his own maintenance. However, there was something missing from his personal armory. Ignoring--rather pointedly--the dwarf and her friend as they approached their young leader, he stalked into the forge.

And there it was, hanging from a wall. A war-pick of the single-handed variety, constructed of what looked like one large chunk of steel. It was plain, devoid of ornamentation, but looked all the more functional for it. Almost reverently, he took the weapon from the wall, and gave it a few test swings. He liked it. Normally the Nord wouldn't have bothered, but he took the insight the elf had given about beasts in the wilderness to heart. The wicked, long point of the weapon, and the hammer head on the opposite side would be perfect for penetrating through hard shell and thick hide if his axe proved insufficient.

The look the blacksmith got when he quoted Skoggr a ridiculous price managed to look both murderous and hurt. He never said a word. The blacksmith lowered the price substantially. The Nord leered, and paid the coin required. His new weapon acquired, he stepped back outside, slipping the weapon through a loop on his belt.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Miroch Vutan Character Portrait: Kaus Meridion Character Portrait: Hela Alyndra Character Portrait: Claire Lucion Character Portrait: Ice Character Portrait: Skoggr Character Portrait: Varghos "The Butcher" Character Portrait: Kav the Stout Character Portrait: Ruth Character Portrait: Sigurthr Arvidson
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#, as written by RCJJ23
Miroch had traveled with the caravan on foot, with the horses straining to move the cargo of seven or so other group members and the needed supplies. He didn't know why they all wanted to stay cramped in there, but he didn't have any comment. Even when the Owl Kindred approached the group and Kaus let him join, he didn't say anything. He just kept walking along with the wagon. As far as he could tell, they were still heading south, towards what he faintly remembered was an area called Sylvana. It was a while where they traveled, until they reached the more forested areas of the countryside of Alshain, slowly merging into the forests of Sylvana. It was already getting dark, as it took the better part of the day to get there. Miroch recommended taking up camp for the night, as it allowed the horses an opportunity to rest and recover from the long day's journey. After eating his dinner rations, Miroch wandered off into the forest, taking his staff with him. He'd said he'd be back soon, and he wanted to meditate as he usually did before he slept, also volunteering for first watch of the night.

It must have been a few minutes into his meditation in a clearing before he heard a growling in the bushes. He'd found his first beast. He'd encountered one before, but that was over a year ago, with a group of trained hunters and with the faint remembrance that this Atilgan was twice the size of the one he had hunted before. It stood at about his height at the shoulders, but one and a half times his height in length. Overall, it was big, scary and saw Miroch as supper. Its hide was thick enough to dampen even his enhanced blows, and unless he was extremely lucky, he'd have to fight it alone, a daunting challenge even for him. He drew his staff calmly before reaching deep into himself and waking up Gorrjen.

What do you... oh. Alright.

With that he felt the flood of magical energy fill his system, enhancing his own endurance and strength. This manifested as a glow of orange-yellow flame around his hands and feet. up to his elbow. A softer glow enveloped his body, to identify the enhanced endurance. Hopefully, he could outlast the beast and finish it before it tired him out. It was a slim hope. He saw a flicker in the corner of his eye, what seemed like a white flicker, but he ignored it for the moment as the Atilgan pounced at him, its claws flashing in the moonlight filtering through the leaves. Miroch rolled to the left side of its attack, slamming the staff into the beast's flank which caused it to stagger before it charged at Miroch again. This continued for a few more moments before the beast backed off, a dull ache in its side from where Miroch kept hitting it the blows had fractured bone and ruptured blood vessels, but it would live unless further damage was done. The Atilgan circled around Miroch whose breathing was now heavier from the exertion. He had been hit in the side where he had been caught off guard as the Atilgan whipped him with its tail. Luckily, the strong, thick cloth of his robe managed to absorb most of the force, though it had been torn. He'd just have to fix it later. Already, the fight seemed to favor Miroch, until the Atilgan did something strange. It opened its mouth and stood there for a moment, emitting something that seemed to resemble a roar, but in silence. Then, Miroch suddenly felt extremely sick, the inaudible sonic attack destroying Miroch's sense of balance and he struggled to continue standing, leaning heavily on his staff which was starting to dig a small hole into the ground. The Atilgan, seeing its prey defenseless, closed in slowly, almost seeming to relish the fact that it was going to finally get its meal.

Miroch just looked at it and silently prayed to whichever god favored him now to send some measure of help to him.