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Johan Schwartz

PLAYED BY: John J. Black, esq.

CHARACTER NAME: Johan Schwartz

GENDER: M

PRONOUN(S): He/Him

CLASS: Rogue

AGE: 31

RACE: Human

HAIR: Brown

EYES: Green

OCCUPATION: Baker, former sellsword

KNOWN SKILLS: Baking, swordsmanship, shieldwork

BIRTHPLACE: New Aldoria

APPEARANCE: He is pale skinned with brown hair and a brown beard.

NOTABLE TRAITS: None

RELATIONSHIPS: Artemis and Matheris. Friends and business associates.

RUMORS: Why does a baker need a kite shield and soldier’s sword?

BIO / BACKGROUND HISTORY:

Born to Aldorian parents, Johan is an immigrant who never feels at home. Fleeing the undead, Johan’s parents sought out a better life. Johan was 10 when the undead forced their family to leave their ancestral home. Johan would grow to fondly pine for the simplicity of life before their exodus. New Aldoria became their home where they would raise their family. Johan grew up in the relative safety and comfort of a New Aldorian home. Although it was home to his family, Johan felt adrift.

They were not wealthy, but not particularly poor either. Johan’s father was a soldier and wanted nothing more than for their son to earn glory on the battlefield. Johan’s mother was a seamstress and provided him with the tenderness that his father lacked. Johan loved them both dearly and wanted to earn their love and respect.

From youth to young adulthood Johan was fed stories of the Old World and how life used to be. His father would often regale Johan with stories of blood and honor. Through these stories Johan found he longed for a land he would never know again, but the Old World didn’t really feel like home either. He felt lost in his formative years.

Johan was no soldier, but he wasn’t a bad fighter either. It’s not that he didn’t like fighting. Rather, he loved sparring with his father in his youth. He does not seek out violence on its own but Johan has never run from a fight. To Johan, becoming a soldier just felt like an inevitability he wanted no part of. He would be forever grateful to his parents fighting for a better life, but he needed to find his own path.

Hoping to improve his standing and earn a living, Johan became a city watchman. It wasn’t so much the routine as the monotonous pace of city life that led Johan into depression. He was miserable, and after five years he left the watch to become a freelance sellsword. His father was not pleased, but Johan was an adult of his own at this point. The two didn’t talk much after Johan left the watch.

Thinking he could be his own boss and set his own hours, Johan was less than thrilled to find out a sellsword just does the same hack and slash work as a guard but with less accolade. For the better part of a decade Johan was gainfully “employed” as whatever wealthy lords with too much money for sense wanted him to be. He’d been a bodyguard, security, mercenary, and a goon on at least one occasion. To him it all felt pointless, but it paid the bills.

He was once again miserable. Johan was no stranger to depression and allowed himself to wallow in it. His father was a soldier who earned great honor on the battlefield and he couldn’t help but compare his failings to his father’s success. He felt like his life was simply missing some key thing.

Johan’s father died. Johan received word via letter, and he didn’t know how to react. They weren’t close anymore and he wished that they could have talked and sparred once more. Sometimes life just doesn’t work out. Johan visited his mother and paid his respects. He didn’t stay long, maybe a day. He received no closure with his father, and this just added to the stressors facing Johan. He felt like if something didn’t change he couldn’t go on anymore.

Everything changed for Johan the day he met Artemis. Artemis was in the area selling his wares of wine and cookies. Ever the showman, Artemis put on several displays for the local townsfolk. During one such demonstration Artemis and his assistant Matheris baked and provided samples of cookies. Johan had eaten cookies before but never so scrumptious. Johan was beside himself. All he had known was the sword, but the cookies were so delicious he knew upon tasting one what he wanted to do with his life. He would be a baker! And occasional sellsword. So Johan set off with Artemis and Matheris, determined to be the greatest baker in all the land. Or at least a pretty good one. In any event he finally felt like his life had purpose.

Today Johan can be found throughout the inns and villages of Mardrun selling his wares. He is happier now, dealing in various baked goods rather than death. That said, although he chooses to wield a rolling pin and peel, his skills with a sword remain sharp.

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Siegfrieda Thorbjorgdottir – [Renowned]

CHARACTER NAME: Siegfrieda Thorbjorgdottir, Pack Sjóúlfur, Clan Nightriver

GENDER: Female

CLASS: Cleric

AGE: 28

RACE: Ulven

OCCUPATION: Skald (warrior and poet)

KNOWN SKILLS: Poetry, Runes, and battle

BIRTHPLACE: Eastern shores of Mardrun, Pack Sjóúlfur

APPEARANCE: Armed well and strong, her clothing is of deep blues and greens popular amongst ulven of Pack Sjóúlfur.

 

Backstory:

Siegfrieda was born to Pack Sjóúlfur under Clan Nightriver. Her mother is Thorbjorg Egildottir of Pack Sjóúlfur, Hersir of Nightriver a renowned warrior of the Clan. Her father is Storri Bodvarson, a skilled fisher of the Pack.

Growing up in Pack Sjóúlfur was a quiet life for the most part. The pack lived on the Eastern shore of Mardrun on the cliffside, creating a natural defense for the pack. From a young age Siegfrieda began learning how to fight from her mother and how to provide food like her father. When she reached the age of ten, she began showing a talent for skaldic verses, seemingly taking after her grandfather Bodvar. Much like her grandfather, however, she seemed to always find trouble and could often be found picking fights with other willing children of the pack.

Eventually she settled a bit and began helping her father with more of the fishing in his older age. Soon her mother would leave to join the efforts in establishing the Shield of Mardrun. Though her mother would visit as often as she was able to regale her with stories of battles.

Years later, Siegfrieda was out helping her father bring in the fishing nets. She was lost in thought of sword and verse, distracting her from the work. A loose rope in the wrong place and a net slipping lead to her hitting her head and falling overboard, everything going black.

She regained consciousness, crawling from the water onto the shore of a sickly swamp. Clearly not where she had fallen in. Everything was dark but she could barely see a form coming into view through the thick fog.

It was a wolf. Bright with something uncanny about it.  The wolf moved with an otherworldliness that was hard to describe, but Siegfrieda knew exactly what it was. It was a fylgja, the spirit given to members of pack Sjóúlfur at birth by the wolf Sjóúlfur, one of the first sons of the Great Wolf.

Siegfrieda had a realization… this must be the spirit Sjóúlfur gifted to her. She reached her hand out to the spirit, which greeted her kindly, resting it’s head against her palm. A name immediately came to Siegfrieda’s mind. Kolbitr… She took a second to think about the name, an old word for “coal bitter” or someone who is lazy. She shrugged before realizing the spirit was trying to get her to move. She nodded and followed the wolf.

After a short trek through the muck of the swamp the two made their way into a clearing on the top of a short cliff. Upon stopping, Kolbitr immediately laid down, pointing their muzzle forward off the cliff. With a sigh, Siegfrieda looked over the edge. It took a moment, but she could make out the shape of white wolf. Suddenly more details came into view. The wolf was running towards a wall of shields, clearly in distress. Dark gray wolves emerged from the fog, surrounding the first one. With a snarl one of the dark gray ones lunged towards the white wolf but it was quick to evade and snapped back, biting down in the top of its neck. More wolves joined in the fray. The white wolf held out for a long time but was tiring. Soon it was too much, and the white wolf lay before the gray ones, lifeless. The gray wolves turned, walking through the wall of shields.

When the scene had finished, Siegfrieda turned to Kolbitr who was now sitting up looking at her. As she was about to ask the spirit a question they opened their mouth and Siegfrieda heard a single phrase in a tired voice.

“Wake up.”

Siegfrieda awoke to the violent shaking of her father, water spilling forth from her lungs as she coughed and rolled over. She was back on the boat, her father clearly drenched, having jumped in after her. After arriving back home, Siegfrieda sat by the fire warming herself. She couldn’t help but stare at the coals, contemplating the dream she had.

Several weeks of easy work passed by before a messenger came knocking at the door of her home. The traveler clearly had a look of sorrow on their face as they sat down at the table with her father. Siegfrieda stood in the doorway, listening to their conversation, not believing the words she was hearing. Thorbjorg Egilsdottir of Pack Sjóúlfur, Hersir of Nightriver was dead. Killed by Mordok on a scouting mission beyond the Shield of Mardrun along with several others. Siegfrieda’s thoughts went immediately to the dream. In her eyes it could not be a coincidence. Her fylgja has tried to warn her of this and she didn’t listen. Now her mother has paid the price. After talking with her father and the pack leader she set out to fight on the Shield of Mardun, equipped with her mother’s helmet and the resolve to find out what happened to her.

 

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Belterra

PLAYED BY: Celeste
CHARACTER NAME: Belterra
GENDER: female
PRONOUNS: she/her
CLASS: Mage
AGE: 21
RACE: Ulven (pack fieldcrow)
HAIR: bright red (changes sometimes, depends on how player is feeling about their hair color)
EYE: Bright Blue
OCCUPATION: Brothel Owner
BIRTHPLACE: Madrun
APPEARANCE: wears a shoulder piece that highlights her organization’s colors, first aid kit at her side,along with her sword. On the shorter side

Bio:

Belterra was born in 250 on the continent of Mardrun in Clan Grimward’s Pack Fieldcrow. She spent most of her childhood being raised and trained to be a Daughter of Gaia, however Belterra did not always take her studies seriously, as she did not always grasp the ways of learning magic that the Daughters of Gaia were trying to teach her. She loved to observe the healers and patch people up though, and after a while of observing she started to help with this process, to which it seemed she held a hidden talent for patching. During this part of her training she began to develop a passion for assisting others when it was asked for, or if needed, and was highly protective of those she tended to. When one of the Witches of Pack Fieldcrow attempted to teach her arcane magic again, she struggled once again with their teaching methods. She asked if there was another way to try and learn, and was met with sighs of disapproval and attempts to keep teaching her the same way. In the midst of a training session to even weave mana together, she asked if perhaps it would be allowed for her to learn from another teacher. She tried to phrase it that it wasn’t the Daughter’s fault, however the attempt was only met with a blank stare and turned head. With no verbal response she continued to try this. This scene went on for a few more days, until Belterra’s frustration was at its peak. She asked one last time and was met with a sigh of resignation and understanding.

“I have tried to teach you as much as I know how to, however it is apparent that the methods and styles I use do not seem to seed themself in your mind. If it will help you learn the gifts Gaia has to offer to us Belterra, then go and learn from others that live here on Mardrun. Be wary of the colonist’s if you learn from their ilk, we still do not trust them with their magic and how they use them. Return when you are ready to learn how to become a Daughter of Gaia.”

She decided to leave her pack in 262 at the age of 12, traveling across Mardrun to the best of her abilities. It wasn’t easy going for a while, at least until she met Aurelia outside of Aylin’s Reach . Her and Aurelia bonded very quickly and decided to start traveling together until they could find a place to settle down and to find different teachers of magic. After several years of travel, she learned to make money how she could. After dealing with horrible working conditions once of age while working as a consort in a town, Belterra decided to run a brothel where all the people are protected and the people who work as an escort know it is a safe place. After arriving with Aurelia in the city of Bladehome she saw that there wasn’t any notable inn anywhere to rest in for the night. So, after talking with some of the citizens there, Belterra and Aurelia decided to go and talk with the leader of Bladehome, Volrok, to get permission to set up a tavern/ brothel called the “Busty Bosom Chateau” in one of the old building to be able to allow visitors of the city have a place to come in, relax, play games, enjoy the companion of other people, and eat the food and drinks that are prepared by Aurelia and Belterra.

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Maretheris

PLAYED BY: Samantha Klinkhammer

CHARACTER NAME: Maretheris

GENDER: Female

RONOUN(S): She/her/they

CLASS: Baker/ Cleric

AGE:26

RACE: Human

HAIR: Brown

EYES: Green

OCCUPATION: For now she sells baked goods alongside Artemis.

KNOWN SKILLS: Baking.

BIRTHPLACE: Vandregon

APPEARANCE: usually seen wearing a black dress with a blue apron or a red

skirt with a white shirt.

NOTABLE TRAITS: Stares off into the distance debating her existence.

RELATIONSHIPS: Artemis, Azureal Talonflame

BIO / BACKGROUND HISTORY:

When Maretheris was a baby she was stolen from her crib in the middle of the night. Her family was unaware until they woke up in the morning to see that she was gone. The mother and father went around town in search of their missing child in the hope to find her, or at least some type of clues…Sadly, they found nothing. She apparently vanished without a trace; little did they know she was only a few blocks away.

The man that took Maretheris moved to the outskirts of Vandragon. During those sheltered times, he taught her to bake along with crocheting, reading, writing, and other basic things. Though it seems baking was what she loved the most out of the two. Then one day on a day of baking, there was the undead outbreak, and her father figure was killed as Maretheris ran. She then sought escape on the Pioneer ship, The Alana. Captain Azureal Talonflame piloted the ship. He was a handsome tall dark skinned Syndar. He paid her no mind.

Maretheris then took up residence in Darkport for a time. She spent her days baking to pass the time. One day, she began to experiment with making bread. The scent was very aromatic and attracted a few children. This also attracted the nose of a “young” man named Artemis. He was also Tall, Dark, and handsome. Just like a familiar man she met on the way here. She gave out her baked goods to the children and the man. It was a very intriguing color, a blue and black color. It was also infused with cheese. A very delicious combination. The man kept coming back for more when he had time. He even took some time to teach her a few tricks. They shared a similar bond for baking. He loved the science behind it, and she had the skill. They both liked the experimentation.

Then Artemis was gone for a few months. Maretheris was a bit worried her baking partner was gone. She went out to look for him. She also ventured out of town. That’s when she was accosted by bandits. Then the dark-skinned man showed up to her rescue with a few other men. He then told Maretheris of a plan to open a tavern and they became partners. After Artemis saved her though, she became very fond of him.

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March 272 News and Rumors

Ice thaws and the continent begins to spring back to life. Throughout the land, people leave their homes and local taverns and the flow of news spreads like wildfire. It seems that the people of Mardun made great plans during the cold months and they are now ready to put them publicly in motion.


Clan Shattered Spear released a proclamation regarding the lands of the former Clan Riverhead. Some years ago before the creation of the outposts that make up The Shield of Mardrun, a large warband of Mordok swept into Riverhead lands and decimated their populace. In the end Riverhead was unable to maintain its clan and was restructured as Pack Riverhead and taken in by their neighbor Clan Shattered Spear. Now years later, Pack Riverhead feels that it is time to try to return to their ancestral homelands. They know that they do not have the numbers or strength to maintain a Clan of their own, but Shattered Spear has seen the benefits of returning these Ulven to their home. Clan Riverhead will be reconstituted as a vassal state of Clan Shattered Spear. Shattered Spear will aid in the clearing and resettling of their lands and in return Riverhead will exist as a sub-Clan under their banners and protection much in the way The Watchwolves of Luna exist as a protectorate of Clan Grimward. The process will take some time, but the Ulven of Riverhead are excited to return home, even if it is as vassals to their once neighbor Clan.

 


The Council of Newhope has released a proclamation as well.

“To the People of Newhope,
We of the Council feel that it is in the best interest of the people that we remain open and truthful with all of the citzens of Newhope. We have heard the discontent in the voices of the Syndar citizens of Newhope and we understand that it may feel that in the loss of Celestial Arragones that the Syndar have lost their voice on the Council. We want you all to know that this is not true. It was never the intention of The Council to remove the voice of any people and as soon as we had sentenced Celestial Arragones, we began the process of promoting a new Syndar voice to the council. We tell you this now because our process is nearing completion. We have selected the final candidate and, should they agree to the terms and responsibilities of service, over the course of this next month we will be finalizing the procedures and will be officially promoting a fresh, new Syndar voice to The Council of Newhope. We remain hopeful and excited as we look toward the bright future of our collective people.
The Newhope Council”

 

Bad news spreads from a small village in Clan Goldenfield. Gudrun Whiteoak, the Daughter of Gaia that had gone missing on her way to the Daughter’s Summit in January was found dead not twenty paces from a major roadway. It seems the falling snow had kept her body hidden until the thaw came and melted away her icy funerary trappings. Gudrun was found with no marks of struggle on her body and was taken away to a local surgeon so they could try to uncover what caused her death. The surgeon found traces of poison in her veins and turned her over immediately to a local Daughter of Gaia to purify her body before it would be returned to Whiteoak to be burned. The Daughter of Gaia found something even more alarming when she came to cleanse the body. From what she was able to tell, Gudrun had been hollowed and it appears to have happened before she died. Clan Whiteoak has sent a group of investigators to Clan Goldenfield in an attempt to uncover the perpetrators of this heinous crime. Naturally Clan Goldenfield has pledged to help Whiteoak find those responsible.

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Einherjar’s Vengeance

Bryech crawled his way to the top of the hill before him, Toralf and Thrand to his flanks. The hard packed snow made it impossible to move silently but the noise from the camp on the other side of the hill covered their approach. Crawling only so high that they could get a glance, couldn’t risk getting spotted and losing the element of surprise. Bryech scanned the camp in the depression below. Covered on three sides by hills and to the east opened to a small stream. It was occupied by those responsible for the pain and suffering of several villages in the Eastern Stormjarl territory during the past several months. The Einherjar had been tracking them for the better part of two weeks before finding them here.

 

“I count thirty in the main body.” Bryech whispered. While these brigands were armed and had shown the willingness for violence, their equipment was basic at best.

“More by the stream, looks like nine, maybe ten.” Thrand responded. Bryech looked to him to show his acknowledgement but Thrand was still scanning. Bryech could see him thinking how they should approach. He had a mind for tactics. Thrand turned to his friend and nodded. Bryech signaled to move back to their position at the bottom of the hill where their warpack was waiting. Fritha and Yrsa were there with the warriors, Lilith, Amiya, and Ylva were preparing healing supplies. Arland as gray as he was kept watch to their south, his bow ready for any unexpected visitors.

 

“What did you see?” Fritha whispered to the returning party.

“They’ve got forty, give or take a few.” Bryech replied, grabbing his shield from one of the warriors who was holding it for him.

“Numbers wise they have the advantage but they lack the quality of our Drengr.” Bryech continued.

“It will be a worthy fight then.” Toralf chimed in, facing toward the enemy, his excitement quite visible. Bryech smiled and gave a quiet chuckle. He thought the same.

“Thrand, what do you think?” Fritha asked her anticipation apparent as well. Thrand paused for a moment, thinking back to what he saw.

“We have the advantage of the hill, we should double that by hitting them from both sides.” Thrand pointed to the west.

“We can move behind the hill and flank them from the north.” Bryech nodded his agreement.

“Then that’s what we’ll do. Thrand, Toralf, take half the pack and and move to hit them from the far side. The rest of us will stay here and meet you in the middle.”

 

The group breaks and finishes the last of their preparations. Bryech scans the group one last time before they split. Toralf and Ylva share a moment before he departs, Fritha and Thrand doing the same. Quickly, quietly, and with experienced efficiency the warriors finish their preparations and move to their respective groups. As Thrand takes half around the rest slowly make their way up the hill awaiting the signal from their comrades.

 

Just below the edge again Bryech waited in anticipation, his attention pulled by the quiet but quickened breathing of Yrsa. As he looked at her he could tell she was fighting her nerves. She was less equipped than most, having only just truly begun as a warrior. Bryech tapped her with the flat of his blade to get her attention and laughed lightly as she jumped. She scowled as she met his gaze thinking he was mocking her.

 

“Hold onto your courage my friend, and know that if we fall His ears will ring with our names.” His look was meant to be one of reassurance but his helmet kept her from seeing it. She nodded and took a deep breath before adjusting her grip on her sword.

“I’ll stay close to Fritha and with luck not steal all your glory.” She smiled, her confidence rising to the surface behind the jest. Just then the blast of a horn blasted through the quiet. Bryech leapt up, reacting immediately to the signal.

 

“CHAARGE!!” Bryech roared out his command as a battlecry and rushed down the hill. The combined cry of both groups charging down the hill sent the foe below into a panicked rush of movement. Before either side of the Einherjar force was even half way down the hill the brigands responded with a volley of arrows.

 

“Shields!” Fritha called out from Bryech’s left. Bryech raised his shield just in time for a series of loud thuds to crash out over the thunder of charging warriors as the arrows covered the hillside.

“Shit,shit,shit,shit!” Bryech heard Yrsa cry out as death rained down around them. Across the field Thrand and Toralf crashed into the foe screaming out commands that could barely be heard over the sounds of battle. Bryech ran into the first bandit he saw using the momentum from the hill to send the man sprawling. Thrusting forward with fervor he pierced the man through his throat before he could recover, a loud gurgling his only response. Diving into the fight Bryech could not help but feel their momentum stall as the bandits continued their barrage of arrows. Several warriors to his right cried out in pain as the volley’s found their mark.

 

“Shield Wall!” Thand’s voice boomed out over the cacophony. Quickly moving into a more defensive formation the far side continued to press in hoping to keep the initiative. Through bouts of fighting Bryech watched the far side begin to carve through the enemy in droves. Although taking a defensive formation they pushed forward with a violence worthy of song. Hoping to do the same Bryech followed suit.

 

“South Fang! Sh..OOfh!” Before he could finish his command a hulking beast of a man sent him flying with a swing of a large hammer. Rolling with the hit Bryech winced as his old war wound pulsed pain through his chest. Rising with forced speed and grit Bryech meet the brigands who rushed through the now vacant spot in the skirmish line hoping to envelop their foe on the southern front. Two women ran toward Bryech with small skirmish shields and swords. Recovering from the sharp pain in his chest Bryech pushed to the right hoping to face only one of them at a time. For a few moments the two faltered as they tried to fight around one another. In that time Bryech fought hard against the first woman but her defense was strong and he was unable to defeat her before her counterpart assaulted his shield with a flurry of blows. The three of them went on for some time, neither side gaining the advantage. Bryech could tell they were tiring as their movements slowed; his years of training and experience had led to enough endurance to last through their onslaught. One of the women swung for a wide arcing hit and Bryech lashed forward with a tight cut at her forearm, slicing deep into her skin. The woman screamed in pain as blood soaked her arm and sleeve.

 

“You bastard!” the other screamed as she launched into a renewed burst of fierce strikes. Her assault put Bryech on the retreat focusing on defense. The momentum was short lived as she again faltered under her mounting fatigue. Scooping forward with his shield Bryech opened her defense and cut deep into her side splitting her armor and sending her entrails pouring out onto the ground. As she fell he followed with another slash across her face, silencing her cries. The second woman now back in the fight screamed at the scene.

“Kara, no!” The woman looked from her fallen friend to Bryech and rushed at him with a furious cry. Her sword in her uninjured hand swung weakly at him. Her strong arm disabled by his previous strike. Bryech swatted her attacks aside with the edge of his shield before running her through. The woman gasped as the pain hit her, dropping her sword to grip at his wrist and forearm. Bryech met her gaze with a snarl

 

“For Stormjarl.” He growled before punching the edge of his shield into her temple, a resounding crack echoing back as he pulled his sword from her body. Looking back to the fight the large bandit was sowing chaos into the fight. Although the battle bode ill for the bandits the man seemed determined to fight to the last.

“Come on you big bastard!” Bryech yelled as he charged at him. The man turned just in time to catch a slash on his arm. Wincing, the man swung his hammer with one hand nearly striking Bryech in the head. The two exchanged blows, Bryech was faster but the man had strength to him. In only a few blows he shattered Bryech’s shield. Bryech drew his seax in his off hand and continued to trade blows with the man, the fight turning to the bandit now that his shield was gone. The man swung from his side and broke through Bryech’s attempt at a block slamming into his chest and sending him flying back. Bryech’s wound flared again, pain lancing through his chest stealing his breath. Bryech tried to rise but the pain was harder to fight through when he was this tired. The bandit rushed in and swung down looking to finish the fight. Bryech rolled, dodging the blow and taking a wild swing at his opponent’s hands. Bryech’s seax found purchase and the man dropped his hammer in a moment of pain as he pulled back in shock. Bryech pushed up and tried to stab the bandit but his attack wasn’t strong enough to penetrate the man’s armor. Recovering, the bandit grabbed Bryech by the mask of his helm and his belt and threw him. Before Bryech knew what was happening the man was on him raining blows on him with his bare fists. Bryech curled tight hoping to defend himself but the man was too strong.

 

“Somebody. Get. This. Fucker. Off me!” was all Bryech could yell out as he tried to stop his head from being crushed. Suddenly the blows stopped as a smattering of blood hit Bryech. Looking up, the man had an axe blade buried in his face. Suddenly Thrand appeared, kicking Bryech’s assailant off with a grunt. Reaching down he yelled above the battle.

“On your feet Ulfhednar!” Pulling Bryech to his feet he acknowledged his friend and reentered the fray, Shattering a shield before caving in its wielder’s chest. Collecting his blades Bryech followed and together the Einherjar slaughtered their enemies. 

 

As the battle ended and the cries of the wounded replaced the sounds of combat. Bryech knelt and collected himself. Sore and bloody he rested amongst the carnage and felt the rush of war fade from his mind. His thoughts moved from glory to the aftermath and the bloody justice that still needed to be dealt.

“Toralf, get Ylva and Lillith and have them start tending the wounded and our fallen. The rest of you gather the dead and finish off the rest of these níðingur. We burn them without blessings or speaking their names.” Toralf jogged up the hill breathing heavily from the fight. A yell came from within the warpack.

“Our people are avenged!” The battlecry that followed felt as if it made the earth shake. And together they finished their work burning the corpses of their foes and putting to rest the suffering of the Stormborn Coast.

 

Bryech sat by the fire later that night in the Einherjar camp taking a watch over their fallen warrior. They wouldn’t dare burn him with their fallen foes. He deserved an honored funeral in Ulvesal where his people could pay their respects. His name was Ervind, he had fought with them since the Grimward Raids. He left behind a son and a mate. It had been some time since Bryech had lost a friend in battle, it was a pain he had been happy to forget. As the camp grew quiet, Bryech looked at his severely damaged helm and thought about the cost of their actions. Without him realizing Thrand, Fritha and Yrsa had joined him. He smiled once he realized his friend’s presence. Fritha handed him a cup and raised her own as the rest of them sat.

“To Ervind Stormjarl, May The Great Wolf’s ears ring with his name.” the rest raised their cups.

“May he be welcomed into his pack, and live forever with his ancestors in the Hunting Grounds” Yrsa finished. The group sat until the next vigil woke and replaced them. Bryech was glad for their turn. It was a good reminder that no matter what Stormjarl faced they would face it together.

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Runar

PLAYED BY: Zack Hawkins

CHARACTER NAME: Runar

GENDER: yes plz

PREFFERED PRONOUN(S): He/Him

CLASS: Cleric

AGE: 36

RACE: Ulven

HAIR: Dark Brown

EYES: 2

OCCUPATION: A student and a Chair Maker

KNOWN SKILLS: Chair making, onion harvesting, heavy things carrying, fast swimming, afraid of the dark but good at the daytime

BIRTHPLACE: on an onion farm in nightriver territory

APPEARANCE: thicc

NOTABLE TRAITS: Happy.  unless he is sad.  Strong hands, but not so good feet.  knees are okay

RELATIONSHIPS: Recently enrolled in the university at keys crossing

RUMORS: Good listener, but not great speaker.  Also, good taster.  Runar loves tasting.  Smelling is good too

BIO / BACKGROUND HISTORY:

~~~~~~~~ Part 1 ~~~~~~~~

Gaia’s happy waters

 

Runar was born in an onion patch, 6 inches from the worms as his mother tells.  Weary from her days labor, she didn’t quite make it back to their cabin in time to welcome him to the world, so he started his life in much the same fashion that he would spend his youth – naked and covered in dirt.  His father says the spot where it happened is still where the best onions sprout, but Runar knows it’s more likely due to it also being his favorite place to make night soil.

His father would always say, “Runar!  Never shit where you sleep!”.

and while Runar never completely understood the sentiment – “Who shits where they sleep? And does it happen so often that it needs to be a cautionary tale to children??” he DID suspect that perhaps this rule extended to where you were born as well, so he kept it to himself.

By his teen years, he had grown to wonder what was happening outside of his little family farm.  His parents were wary of all outsiders and had a wild, usually scary story to defend against any of his prying questions about Mardrun and its other inhabitants.

“If it were just other Ulven here, we would love to let you romp around sowing your wild oats” his mother bellowed once, “But it’s not!  There are evil, pointy eared baby eaters out there now..  and flat toothed round-ears with funny accents that are ALL diseased.  If you go near them, you’ll die, and we can’t pick all these onions without you”.

His parents knew a lot about everything, so he heeded their warnings usually.  He used to think they must be very wise to know so much about the world and all the things in it, but as the years went on, Runar did start to notice some incongruities in their tales..

He once asked his father while walking the riverbank, “Why does the water flow only in this direction, and never the other way around?”

His father smiled and explained,”It is because the river always flows from Gaia towards the Great Wolf, and when it rains, it is because Gaia is missing the Great Wolf and wants him near.. and when it STORMS, and the river overflows its banks..  It is because the Great Wolf has found her and is making her very happy”.

Runar loved that story and thought about it often.  He always loved swimming in the river when it was raining, and it made him happy thinking about Gaia missing the Great Wolf and how he was somehow a part of that when he swam.  But months later,  as he was helping his mother work the dirt, the dark clouds of a storm rolled in.. flashes of lightning and the boom of thunder came right as the first drops of rain hit their heads.  He started undressing and running to the river immediately, his mother running fast behind him.

She caught him before he jumped off the river bank, “What the hell are you doing Runar??”

“Swimming in Gaia’s love!!” He emphatically answered.

Turns out, his mother’s reasoning for the river’s flow was a lot different than his fathers..  “You’ve been reading those dirty fairy tales he writes haven’t you!”, she scolded.  “I told him to hide them away where you could not find them.  Is this why you always sneak out to shit in the onion patch too?? Did he write that it lures naked forest nymphs?!”.

But this was the way of it.  He was still not totally sure why the river flowed one way, but he also didn’t let it stop him from swimming in the rain.

The years passed, and Runar found his joy where he could in life – he knew nothing else, so he wanted for very little.. Or so he believed..

When Runar turned 36, the most amazing thing happened to shake up his quiet existence..

His father broke his leg.

Well.. Runar was sure that it was not great for his father, but OH BOY.. did it mean amazing things for him.  For the first time in his whole life, he was allowed to venture out from not just their farm, but out into Nightriver lands and to a settlement!!  Once a year, his father would go to trade their sweet onions and chairs that he enjoyed making for various goods they could not grow or make themselves, and this year… THIS YEAR.. that day had landed not only on his birthday, but on the day his father fell off the cabin roof, and it could not be stalled any longer for winter was fast approaching, and if they missed the window it would be an entire season without their needed goods.  His mother, being deathly afraid of diseases and mumbling something about colonial scum (two words whose meaning, Runar could not divine), made the executive decision to send him in his fathers stead.

 

~~~~~\ ~~Part 2 ~~~~~~~

The Great Wolf’s Heavy load

 

And there he was!!  Strolling down the path with a huge hiking pack full of onions and strapped with 4 homemade chairs, whistling a merry tune.  He walked all day and thought about walking all night just because he was SO excited to reach the market and see the mysterious outsiders his parents hated so much, but as the sun fell below the treeline, the woods took on an eerie calm.  He felt watched, although he could not tell why.  He remembered a story his mother had told him about creatures that come out at night.. Strange shadow beasts, with tiny yellow eyes that glowed bright when they smelled little boys nearby.  He thought he might see some of these eyes up ahead on the path..

HE IMMEDIATELY PANICKED.

Breaking into a run, Runar made it ten paces before tripping on a root and falling to the dirt, the weight of his overloaded pack, bulging with onions and 4 wooden chairs haphazardly strapped about it driving him face first into the soil.

Blinking, bleary eyed and seeing stars.. No.. yellow lights in the distance growing larger… and closer..

“Fuck”, he thought to himself. “First and last adventure”

He closed his eyes tightly and waited for his doom.

But it did not come.

Instead..  Soft footfalls.. And then an even softer voice.. “Well met.  I am Hjalvar, the Wolf’s Priest”.

After assuring Runar that Shadow Beasts were not a threat, the Wolf Priest helped him gather his spilled onions, and offered to set camp with him if he wanted.  They built a fire, and Hjalvar put a coney on the spit he had trapped that day, offering to share with him in exchange for some onions.  They supped and found themselves happily trading stories of recent adventures.  Runar felt a bit inadequate as his stories mostly dealt with local badgers or river otters and the shenanigans and hijinks associated with, while the wolf’s priest had grand tales of the road and his extensive travels.  Turns out, Hjalvar was something of a prophet, and Runar sat wide-eyed as he spun his tale of a first hand experience with the Great Wolf..

“There I was, falling from a scaffold. Next thing I know I’m on my back and my vision is fading out and my lungs are filling with blood. I close my eyes. Then suddenly I feel totally fine. I open my eyes and I’m standing in a forest and off in the distance I see the hulking shadow of The Great Wolf as it stalks its way toward me. Naturally I freeze in place. Then I hear a voice, low and rumbling like a growl barely escaping the throat of the great beast, ‘I do not know you yet you intrude on my forest?’ the beast called to me, ‘Without a name, you are nothing to me. Nothing but a morsel.’ Then the Great Wolf turned and began bounding toward me, his maw open. I tell you the likes of it I have never seen. When he opened his mouth, by Gaia’s grace his mouth so large it could swallow ten warriors without thinking, I saw the stars inside. I saw the very cosmos itself, but at the center of it all, I saw something that scared me more than any of the rest of the experience. I saw nothingness; a void of pure emotionless, nothingness. I screamed…and then I was back.  And I swore that when the great wolf saw me once more, He would know my name!”

Runar lay awake that night incapable of finding sleep.  He stared up through the trees into the great cosmos above wondering what else his parents had left out when educating him about the world.  He believed the Wolf Priest’s story entirely.. he had no reason to distrust the man – he had shared a rabbit with him after all, and what else do you need to know a person really?  The Great Wolf had placed a heavy load on Hjalvar it seems, allowing him to return to this realm after seeing into his maw.

By time the sun rose, he had made the biggest decision of his life – He would not be returning home.  This was the sign he had been waiting for.

Packing up camp, Runar asked Hjalvar for advice on where a young man with onions and chairs to spare might go to strike out into the world and see what he could learn of it.  The Great Wolf’s Priest said he had no idea how onions would get Runar ahead, but that there was a University in Key’s Crossing he could try.  “I think it would be a fine place for an open minded Ulven like yourself to get an unbiased education, but even if they do not admit you to their classes, it stands to reason that they would at least purchase your chairs,  schools usually need lots of chairs”

And so it was, that Runar and Hjalvar parted ways, and that he happily trotted along on his way to the University at Key’s Crossing to begin his education.

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Aurelia

PLAYER NAME: Hannah Anderson
CHARACTER NAME: Aurelia
GENDER: Female
AGE: 36
RACE: Human
CLASS: Rogue
HAIR: Brown
EYES: Hazel
OCCUPATION: Barkeep
BIRTHPLACE: Kingdom of Aldoria
APPEARANCE: Sturdy and practical, Aurelia prefers comfort over fashion and usually wears a white apron
over any outfit.

BIO:

Aurelia was born in 235 in the Kingdom of Aldoria. Born to a family of bakers, her life was a peaceful one, learning the trade of baker. In 253 when she turned 18, Aldoria was overrun, and her father was lost. Aurelia and her mother Isabella managed to escape early to the colony of New Aldoria, though not without consequences. Isabella became very Ill soon after reaching their new home and Aurelia started apprenticing at a local tavern, run by a greedy man who stole her tips, and allowed far more poking and prodding by patrons than she was comfortable with, which Aurelia put up with having made a deal with the owner that she would take over the Tavern in the coming years. The money she made barely kept a roof over their heads and wasn’t enough to heal her mother. When her mother died in 258, the owner of the tavern offered to take Aurelia in, only to have her watch his children when she wasn’t working. The last straw was when the owner took on a young male apprentice in 260 and she overheard him making the same deal with him that she had been given.
With no ties or loyalty left to the colony of New Aldoria Aurelia (now 25) set out to find somewhere where people say what the mean and mean what they say. Where an honest day’s work makes you a living wage, no strings attached. While traveling, she ran into Belterra, an enterprising 12-year-old ulven in 262. Unwilling to let the child travel alone, and pleased with the blunt honesty of her youth, Aurelia chose to travel with her until they
both found somewhere they could settle down for good.

PERSONALITY:
Aurelia doesn’t give her trust easily. Life has taught her that words mean nothing without action to back them up. People are usually only looking out for themselves and finding someone who is
honest and kind is something to hold on to. Once her trust is earned, it is absolute and unquestioning, though only 2 people now hold that honor. Being a barmaid that long has taught her to smile no matter what and to appear friendly and welcoming, no matter how she feels personally. Her experiences with harassment make her fiercely protective of those around her. Her tavern may entertain escorts, but she runs it with a friendly face, a no-nonsense attitude and immediate and direct expulsion of any patron that looks to exploit her and hers. Treat her and hers right and we won’t have a problem.

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February 2023 – Newhope Political Dinner

Ice grips even the southern portions of Mardrun and the people find themselves spending more and more time in their homes waiting out what is often the coldest month of the year. There are few things that draw excitement in the month of February, but the one that does is always a grand event. Throughout the City-State lands and beyond people sit in eager anticipation of the announcement of what has colloquially become known as “The Annual Political Dinner”

Sure enough near the beginning of the month the word goes out that an upscale venue has been chosen in the heart of Newhope’s merchant district. Known as the Glinting Emerald, it’s a newer space for sure, but one that has already caught the eye of the citizenry of Newhope. With the announcement 

Before long the streets of Newhope are flooded with people. Though not everyone has a chance to attend the official gathering, many still find themselves traveling to the area to partake in the festivities that always find themselves materializing in the orbit of these grand gatherings. The recently quiet streets of the Merchant District are now a buzz of activity as people shout sales and specials into the streets from their storefronts. Bards and bands traverse the streets looking for gigs or even just a free corner to ply their trade. Many come with business proposals, hoping to get a chance to rub elbows with the wealthy or noble. Music and mirth fill the air as all prepare for the of the venue also comes a great open invitation to all of the peoples of Mardrun. The unanimous voice of the Council of Newhope rings out through their missive inviting representatives from the Ulven Clans to come and partake in the hospitality of Newhope and it’s people, no doubt in an interest to ease some of the recent tensions. The announcements all carry with them the feeling the recent dark moments within the City-State have been addressed, the future will be bright, and they want all to be able to share in this hopeful outlook for the future.Annual Political Dinner.

Update:

It was a lively time in the Glinting Emerald. People from all walks of life attended to mingle with new acquaintances and catch up with old friends and comrades. Though no persons of high station attended in person, representatives from a few of the major players around the continent made themselves present. 

At one point a meeting of Syndar people in attendance was called together to discuss the possibility of fracturing off and forming their own society or, at the very least, learn how they could come together to further their collective needs and desires. In the end it was clear that this talk would lead to a larger discussion and more meetings in the future, but attention was quickly drawn to the eagerly awaited announcement of the day.

One of the major draws to this dinner was the expectation that Clan Spiritclaw and Newhope would be making a joint proclamation regarding the recent research into Witch Magic and its effects on The Siphoning. By the end of the day they had finished comparing their notes and come forward with a final statement. Both parties agreed that Witch Magic does, in fact, lead to The Siphoning. It seems that every time a Witch casts a spell a portion of the mana is unwound and unable to return to the mana stream. Over time this piece-by-piece unwinding reduces the amount of mana in the stream. They also learned that Mordok Corruption Idols draw on ambient mana, but that they also have a unique ability to draw in this unwound mana and use it as a power source. The researchers believed that these idols may hold some secret that could help collect and maybe fix this unwound mana. The idea of trying to use these idols as opposed to destroy them on sight ruffled some feathers. The Order of Arnath also announced that they had some success in creating what they called a Cleansing Idol. People were excited to hear more about this new device moving forward.

The Researchers also brought along some fresh arcane research in the hopes that a collaborative effort could help solve some problems they’d been having. The researchers and some volunteers worked diligently at their task in the hopes of creating a new Divination Ritual that could pinpoint areas of corruption with extreme accuracy, no matter how small or weak. Unfortunately they were unable to finish this task. The researchers were invited back to The Ravens University to continue their research and hopefully use what they were able to learn so far to finish their task in the near future.

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Wrennalis

PLAYED BY: Aaron Malone

CHARACTER NAME: Wrennalis (ren-NAL-is) or Ren

GENDER: Male

PREFFERED PRONOUN(S): he/him

CLASS: Mage

AGE: 42

RACE: Serous Syndar

HAIR: Brown

EYES: Brown

OCCUPATION: Magic Researcher and tea connoisseur 

KNOWN SKILLS: Adept at field and library research, skilled notetaker

BIRTHPLACE: Faedrun, City of Seven Gates

APPEARANCE: A little on the shorter side for a Syndar, alters dress depending on the situation between simple and more extravagant.  Can almost never catch him without a book in his hands.

NOTABLE TRAITS: pointed ears, calm but serious demeanor.

RELATIONSHIPS:  Agrus Fillian, freelance research affiliate; Elzerith, faction leader of the Blades of Sol

RUMORS: Too much of a bookworm, can’t take a joke

BIO: 

Wrennalis, or Ren for short, was essentially born into the arcane arts.  His parents were established researchers in the City of Seven Gates, the capital of the Kingdom of Tielorrien in Faedrun.  Beginning to tinker with simple puzzles at a young age, Ren became enthralled with this gift and grew up assisting his parents in the lab.  By the time he was 23, he was forced to leave on a boat with other refugees for his safety due to the undead invasion.  His parents stayed to assist with the magical defenses of the city and are assumed to be dead.  The only things with Ren on the boat were some clothes, books, and some small bags of different Jasmine tea leaves and seeds that were his family’s favorite drinks. 

Upon landing in what would become New Hope, Ren stuck with a Syndar commune on the outskirts of New Hope.  For work, he would do freelance research and utilize funds to help establish a more permanent but small research facility in the outskirts.  About two years ago, Ren was approached by a researcher to assist on a special project but offered to pay extremely well.  He accepted due to the prospect of money but also to further his own knowledge.  This happened to be a team project with other freelancers involved, but one freelancer stood out the most, Agrus Fillian.  Agrus was extremely knowledgeable, friendly, and and willing to teach others.  Long day and long nights in the lab fueled by the jasmine tea were had throughout that year.  During one of those nights, Agrus overheard the lead researcher discuss details with a mercenary guard about taking everything after the project is done to sell.  The next day, the other researchers and Ren were informed of this and said, “screw this” and took all the research and instruments and left.  Unfortunately, the equipment needed to be pawned off because of not being paid for over a month.  This led to laying low for a while until an envelope came via messenger about two months later.

In this envelope was not one, but two letters.  The first was from Agrus himself.  He had said he was able to travel north to the Clan Goldenfield area to sell off the Mana Stone he had taken to make up for lost wages and met up with a gold-skinned Syndar named Elzerith.  Agrus was offered shelter and food with Elzerith’s organization, The Blades of Sol, up in Lumiria in the New Aldorian Settlement region and a safe haven to conduct research.  

The second letter was written in very ornate handwriting from Elzerith himself, an invitation to visit Lumiria with the same promises: food, shelter, research opportunities, and other activities.  Ren could not say no to this, so after he was able to sell some of the equipment, he was able to achieve safe passage up to Lumiria where he was met by the Lumiria town guards and escorted to Elzerith himself.  Elzerith mentioned that the Blades of Sol were looking to expand their knowledge of the arcane in a predominately martial and divine organization and that Ren would be a perfect fit as a researcher.  Ren hopes that his knowledge can assist the Blades of Sol with their endeavors.