Wiki Pages – Page 38 – Last Hope Larp

Home
/
Wiki Pages
/
Page 38

February 268

The world is frozen by the frigid air that has come off the north seas, even the Mordok in the north have slowed down significantly. Here is some of what was going on in the icy world.

Around the City State of Newhope, there has been a slowly growing issue of banditry along its roads. Even in the cold weather, these ne’er do wells have been sacking caravan’s along their routes, robbing villages and even some of the supplies going towards the Shield of Mardrun. It seems that these raiders are only just starting, and don’t seem to have a desire to stop anytime soon either.

The Celestial Arragones seems to have revealed some exciting information at the last political dinner, and many are curious as to what may be uncovered. Research teams, theologists, historians, and many adventurers eagerly pack and prepare for the coming dangers and thrills ahead of them. Many are curious to what the purposed Syndar were doing here, others curious about the true nature and origin of the Dirge Swamp.

It seems the security around the mansion of Dominet Martingale has increased a small amount from it’s usual garrison. Many wonder if the partying and generous lord may have made an enemy during one of his lavish nights, or if a group of people are after him for something that he said. Whatever the case, many are curious as to why the sudden change.

Clan Ironmound and Clan Grimward have announced to Mardrun that they are forming a very surprising alliance, and dubbing it the Ironward Alliance. This alliance now gives them strict control over the flow of The Pass in the Great Wolf Hackles, the flow of quality armor and weapons, and military strength. This announcement though has stirred the other clans to begin talks of their own. Diplomats from Clan Shattered Spear and Clan Whiteoak were reported to be seen together at a tavern. Rumors of meetings between Clan Goldenfield and Clan Nightriver have been floating about the two long friendly clans.

At the Shield of Mardrun, the lines report very little activity, only small skirmishers or runners trying to sneak by, with the runners often ending up dead. The battles, if there are any, tend to be quick but never decisive enough for either side to claim victory. Those in their garrisons continue their vigil, some even making snow ulven to make it look as if they are standing guard along some of the outposts walkways and gates.

Home
/
Wiki Pages
/
Page 38

January 268

The war rages on in the North, and the world seems to freeze as winter’s grasp finally takes hold on Mardrun. However, much is going on despite the weather.

In the north the war has stopped progress and has opted to perform a tactical retreat back to the Shield of Mardrun. While some Clans, like Clan Grimward, Axehound, Shattered Spear, and Ironmound, wanted to push further, they were convinced to fall back to prevent over exhaustion and unneeded death of more warriors on a gamble. With the Outposts now garrisoned with a sufficient force to drive back any possible waves of Mordok for the moment, the remaining forces return home to rest, or in some cases, protect themselves.

During the retreat back to the Shield, a very certain Mordok Shaman appeared and gave chase to the forces helping defend the forces. It seems Clan Axehound’s proclamation of killing the Mordok Shaman that was within the Great Forest last year have been proven false as the creature caused extensive damage to the forces. Other clans are demanding an explanation to how this may have happened, but Clan Axehound has yet to make a statement about these sightings and attacks.

The City State of Newhope seems to be increasing it’s taxes on the people once again. While some are crying out that these taxes are actually hurting them, others are seeing the benefits of their infrastructure being better taken care of and increased guard patrols to handle the bandits. While the true motives of this tax increase are unknown, many are curious as to why and what it will do for them in the future.

The Lictor Mary cul Tricuspis seems to have been cracking down on corruption within the City Guard of Newhope. The reasoning behind this is unknown at this time, but guards have been imprisoned, fined, dismissed, and even executed for some of their crimes. The Watchman, head of the City Guard of Newhope, seems to be working side-by-side with the Lictor. Whatever the reason may be, the small folk are seeing the results of this cleansing and restructuring. Many are feeling safer due to the corrupt officials being punished for their crimes, however there are now reports of bandits and gangs taking up the places of where these guards once thrived.

It seems the world almost forgot about the infamous Captain Morty, for it seems to have been a long time since any news of his doings have come to the ears of Mardrun. Bandits and other roughians speak of his reappearance, and is searching for new members to join his crew. Some are convinced this is the reason why bandits have been so active this winter, trying to impress and make their mark. However, others believe these are different bandit gangs that are vying for power and prestige, but as to what ends is unknown.

Home
/
Wiki Pages
/
Page 38

Eydis Fieldcrow

CHARACTER NAME: Eydis Fieldcrow Grimward

GENDER: Female

CLASS: Cleric

AGE: 24

RACE: Ulven

OCCUPATION: Daughter of Gaia

KNOWN SKILLS: Skilled in healing, knowledge of rituals, witch.

BIRTHPLACE: Pack Fieldcrow

APPEARANCE/NOTABLE TRAITS: Dressed in typical Ulven clothing, the main thing that stands out is the numerous beads and bones from various animals she is adorned with all having runes marked onto them.

BIO:

I remember so many times hearing from other packs in Grimward that the colonists need to be driven out. That they are dangerous and the cause of our problems. That once they are gone all will be well…

I remember when the civil war first broke out there was much talk of what we would do but Fieldcrow remained neutral in the civil war. We just lived our lives, continued to practice our magics and rituals. I finished my studies under my teacher. We just continued life like normal but it never felt right.

I heard stories of how the fighting was going and how it eventually ended. When the war was over nothing changed. We lived our lives as normal and I heard the same things from other Grimward about the colonists I heard before the fighting.

The civil war was a failure on Grimward’s part. They fought and killed fellow Ulven. Ulven that had mates and children that now mourn their loss. All for nothing. It was all pointless.

Now these colonists are helping to rediscover our history where other Ulven failed us?

I myself am not certain what to make of these colonists. We have barely interacted with any of them. I’ve never met a… Sinder? I’m not even certain how to spell what they call themselves let alone their packs and clans.
Any of my sisters that have traveled and met these strangers haven’t really spoken of them or their customs. Even when Rilla came back without her arm, she spoke more of the Mordok then she ever did of the colonists.

So many things heard from other Grimward. They are called arrogant and cruel. They think us primitive savages. Various other things I won’t write. It doesn’t matter as I will find out soon enough.

I find that I cannot sit idly as these new discoveries happen. It seems to be all I think and dream of. I have no doubt it is what I am supposed to do.

I have never left my home in Fieldcrow. Never journeyed to other clan’s territories. Since I was a child all I have known are my family, my friends, and my studies. But now I leave my family and friends for my studies.

This doesn’t surprise them. It is the way of the Fieldcrow to put our work above all else. They understand this. I go to whatever Gaia deems my fate to be.

Home
/
Wiki Pages
/
Page 38

Amalia Nordstoga

Player: Megan Winn
Name: Amalia Nordstoga
Gender: Female
Age: 20
Race: Ulven
Hair: Dark brown
Eyes: Grey
Class: Warrior

I am Amalia Nordstoga and hail from the pack Forestheart of the honorable clan Steinjottun.
The pack itself is mainly made up of warriors due to our proximity to the Axehound border.
Historically, Forestheart has always guarded this border. Yet, because of the war and the
creation of the shield of Mardrun the has now been charged with training warriors to send the
Shield.
For all my life I’ve lived in one of the pack’s northernmost villages on the cusp of the Great
Forest. My parents have served their duty as protectors of the border settled down in this village
to train the next generation of warriors. Together they taught my twin brother, Vanir, and I to
fight, to survive, and to bring honor.
Since we were born my father would joke that Vanir and I were as inseparable as lightning and
thunder. If you saw either one of us you could assume the other was not far. Yet as fate would
have it our father died when we were older and our widowed mother was too heartbroken to
continue our training. As the firstborn, Vanir, took the mantle as head of the house and became
a protector of the border. As for myself, I continued my training as an apprentice warrior under a
family friend.
However, a year ago many of the young able bodies of our village left together to join
Steinjottun’s call to arms against the mordok. Vanir, dreaming of honoring our parents’ legacy,
left with them. Being one of the few young adults to stay behind I was forced to turn attention
away from fighting to caring for the village. In that time nurturing the young ones and caring for
the elders.
But a year has now passed and so has our mother. I haven’t heard from Vanir in months nor do
any of those that have returned know what has become of him. I wish I could say I know in my
bones that Vanir is alive but I don’t.
The chief of Forestheart had witnessed me despite my sorrow continuing to care for the village,
they recognized all that I had lost and all that I could become. So, at my request they let me
leave with my honor to find my place in this world without my family, without Vanir.
I am Amalia, last of my kin, I carry my mother’s shield, my mentor’s sword, the memories of my
father, and the honor of my brother. Before I die, I will continue to aid all that I can and slaughter any Mordok that crosses my path.

Home
/
Wiki Pages
/
Page 38

Kor

Played by: Miles Daniels
Character name: Kor
Gender: Male
Age: 16
Race: Human
Occupation: Mercenary
Known skills: toughness, staff weapons , rage, respite
Birth place: Secretly, New Aldoria
Appearance: Road Worn/Dusty
Notable traits: Reckless

Kor was born in New Aldoria to a pair of fairly wealthy bakers. Although he never liked baking himself, throughout his life he developed a fond taste for bread and pastries. Around age 10, he developed a nasty temper and would bully the few kids who were smaller and weaker than him. His parents went to a wise man for advice on what to do with Kor. The wise man told them that they should send him to a monastary to help him control and channel his rage. After some thought, his parents decided to do as advised and sent him away.

Life at the monastery changed Kor’s life forever. Due to his nature, he had to learn the hard way to quell his anger, for whenever he let his anger out in an unhealthy way, he was punished severely.

Finally, after months of hard anger management lessons, Kor was ready to start the process of channeling his anger. Surprisingly, channeling his anger proved to be easier than controlling it. For several weeks he worked hard to channel his rage. Finally, his mentor came to him with a long ashwood staff and said he was on the final step of his training… the art of quarter staff fighting.

Kor advanced fast in the training and soon was ready to strike out on his own. He asked his mentor if there was anything he could give him. His mentor looked at him calmly and gave him his staff and a sack, and sent him on his way.

To this day, Kor has been finding work in the form of a hired guard.

Home
/
Wiki Pages
/
Page 38

Nyxaria Ravenbrooke

PLAYED BY: Sheila Rose

CHARACTER NAME: Nyxaria “Feonyx” Ravenbrooke

GENDER: Female

CLASS: Rogue

AGE: 70

RACE: Syndar

HAIR: Brown

EYES: Brown

OCCUPATION: Laborer

KNOWN SKILLS: Polearm

BIRTHPLACE: The old continent

APPEARANCE: Pale, long hair, thin

RELATIONSHIPS: Member of the rangers

BIO / BACKGROUND HISTORY: Born in a small fishing town seated on a river in Vandregonian territory. By 10 years of age, the human and syndar kingdoms have already joined together in their Grand Alliance against the undead plague. Forty three years later, the survivors of the war fled to the new world. Though looking for prosperous new beginnings, this proved difficult due to the land’s natives. Skirmishes and tension were common for the next few years. As things calmed down, the family set out to return to their roots by settling in the town of Crow’s Landing. The town began to deteriorate due to the negligence of the Crow’s Guard. During the harshest winter, a group clad in green came to the dying town’s aid. By pooling their resources, they were able to sustain the town and convince a noble house to invest in the town’s further survival. Come next spring, the town opted to appoint this group the new leaders of their domain. They became the Rangers of Crow’s Landing.

I’ve wanted to help out this new group, but I wasn’t good at combat. So I found someone to teach me. I found a few members of the town guard willing to help me out with this. They tried to show me many different ways to fight; how to kill one’s enemy at a long range with the bow. How to fight with others in a shield wall. They also tried showing me how to fight with a long spear. I sadly wasn’t very good at any of this. Thankfully the captain of the guard saw that I did seem to use the long spear defensively. So he brought me a staff. In a few months, I was able to block most blows sent my way. I had found my weapon style. I, however, had no idea how to go up to them and ask if I could join them. I’ve never been the greatest at talking to anyone. I felt disappointed with myself, so I went to the White Rabbit in town to drink. This bar is what got me into the Rangers.

This bar has been a part of the town ever since my family’s been here. The owners’ sons run it now; Jack and Jon Melteson. They are Vandregonians like myself. I’ve never really talked to them, but they’ve been nice. Luckily on this day, a number of the Rangers were also present at the bar. Having just returned from one of their outings, they seemed in good spirits. I took up a seat near the group, quietly listening in on their conversation as I debated how to approach them. The more I listened in, the more intrigued I became with their behavior and demeanor. However, social interaction has never been my strength. So, to help loosen my tongue some, I took a risk. I ordered a second pint. And then a third. And a fourth.

From there, I remember little. At some point I approached the green cloaks and struck up a conversation. I have no idea what was said, but apparently I made a lasting impression; the next thing I remember is a brawl. An angry brawl fueled on by chants and cheers of encouragement. I recall I was fighting someone they called Itchy. And I was beating him with my staff. From there my world went black. When I awoke, I did so with a horrible hangover and a green belt around my waist.

Today I leave for my first mission in the swamp with a few of them. My head is killing me.

Home
/
Wiki Pages
/
Page 38

Thanderion Typhylos Wellintiar

Player: Michael Hannes

Character: Thanderion Typhylos Wellintiar

Age: 38

Race: Syndar

Eyes: brown

Hair: brown

Class: mage

Skills:

Arcane magic 10xp

Meditation 0xp +1

Thrusting weapons 0xp+2+5

Trade Merchant 5xp +3

Total xp costs= 26

Backstory:

Thanderion was born to a wealthy family in the Capitol city of the City of Seven Gates, on the continent of Faedrun. His father, Etherion, was a renowned duelist and very well practiced in fencing and made a living as a fencing instructor. Thanderions mother, Nytheria, was more practiced in magic than martial ability. From a young age Thanderion was taught how to fence from his father, training vigorously day in and day out. His mother wanted to teach him more about magic but he was more interested in his fathers teachings. Out of love for his mother he learned the basic arts of arcane magic, though it never held his interest for long. As he grew older Thanderion became almost as skilled as his father in fencing. Learning how to adapt and parry, his footwork and speed became weapons of their own.

As much as he loved fencing Thanderion grew to love something even more so, something so enticing that it pushed him to leave home and explore on his own. Women. Yes, Thanderion fancied himself as skilled with his tongue as his rapier. Dashing, suave, handsome, funny, sultry, well endowed, these are all words that people use to describe Thanderion. Perhaps it was the fact that his parents were married, something more rare in the Syndar communities, that caused Thanderion to become such a self-proclaimed romantic, but it didn’t really matter; Things seemed good. All was going well for Thanderion, until the plague.

With the scourge of undead rising Thanderion tried to find his family and make for an escape but could not find them. He searched the streets of Teilorian and finally found his father standing over his dead mother. With horror, Thanderion watched as his father turned and revealed his own undead visage, rapier in hand poised for attack. Though he was reluctant to fight his own father Thanderion valued his own life more. Among the chaos in the streets, the father and son fought. Unlike most of the undead that Thanderion had seen before there was something strange about his father. Though his body moved slowly like the other undead, it was unmistakable that he had managed to carry over some of his fencing training. His footwork and posture, though pained, were obviously still that of his father.

Thanderion felt hopeless for he had never beaten his father and his reluctance to kill him weighed him down more than any armor ever could. He danced away from his father’s sword and parried the blows that came too close. It hurt to see his father’s signature maneuvering that had always been so effortless, become encumbered by the heavy body of an undead, but if the fencing carried over, maybe there was still more of Etherion inside. Thanderion continued to parry blows, never exchanging with his own, all the while he begged his father to recognize him. He plead with the shambling body to come back and be his father again, but there was no answer. The blows continued. With time Thanderion surrendered to his fate and knew that the man that was his father was gone and that he would have to kill what remained. With all the training Thanderion had fighting against his father he had learned many of his tells, but he had never been fast enough to take advantage of them. In his father’s slower, undead state all of those tells became openings. Etherion’s left leg was back and his foot turned outward signaling, as it always had, that he would attack to his left. Thanderion read the strike and parried it following up with a riposte straight to his fathers skull. The body slumped over and Thanderion dropped to his knees, but he couldn’t grieve for long as more undead rounded a corner and started to shamble towards him. Thanderion grabbed his fathers rapier to keep as a piece of his father and his old life to remember him by. He sprinted for the docks but was too late and the final ship began to leave.

In desperation Thanderion jumped into the sea and swam after the ship calling out to them. Finally, a rope was thrown over the side and Thanderion was pulled on board. Safe and alone at last Thanderion wept. No other family made it to the ships and Thanderion stared at his fathers rapier, replaying what just happened in his mind. As the ships made way they happened upon the continent of Mardrun. Thanderion became sort of a wanderer as he went from town to town. He settled in the city state of Newhope where he tried to become a fencing instructor like his father, but it wasn’t as profitable as he had hoped. Instead he made a living as a simple vendor selling foods, weapons and armor. He came by the armor through various means, either won from gambling or given as compensation for rapier instruction. As time passed Thanderion grew more lonely as he really had no one but himself. He tried to quell such feelings by visiting brothel after brothel, but alas even the tremendous amount of wine and women couldn’t help him feel better.

He spent so much time filling others holes that he had trouble finding someone who could fill the one in his heart. Until he happened upon the Brown Chicken Brown Cow. This brothel was more well kept and tidy unlike the others Thanderion frequented. The Mistress Marrah already new of Thanderions “appetites” and suggested a few of her girls to satisfy his thirst. Thanderion became a regular at Marrah’s feeling as if he was at home every time he stepped in the door. He also made good friends with Arameous, Marrah’s main boy in the brothel, who even taught Thanderion a few things about “thrusting”. He was staring to feel happy again, and then he met someone that would change his life forever, a new companion at the Brown Chicken Brown Cow by the name of Saffiyah. Her beauty rivaled that of Solara herself, her eyes as bright and blue as the vast oceans, her hair as gold and red as the burning sun, her smile as captivating as the full moon on a clear night sky. She had to be his. Every time he looked at her his heart beat faster, his hands would tremble, and his jaw would drop. He had to have her. He had never felt a yearning like this. He purchased her company for a night and felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time, love. From a single night Thanderion had fallen in love with Saffiyah, as she did with him. Though it was risky seeing as Saffiyah was a companion and Marrah wouldn’t be happy, so they kept it a secret. Thanderion still used the services of other companions in the Brown Chicken Brown Cow but every time he always thought of Saffiyah. Perhaps one day they will be together freely without having to keep secrets. Perhaps one day they could live together happily. Perhaps one day they could marry, and have children of their own. Perhaps one day…..

Home
/
Wiki Pages
/
Page 38

Morn Harthfield

Character Name: Morn Harthfield

Player Name: Peter Trevino

Bio-

Personality

Morn is very calm and reserved. Due to his hard upbringing, he is often thought to be older than he is. He avoids conflicts whenever possible but that doesn’t mean he isn’t willing to fight. Morn doesn’t like the high society it makes him feel uncomfortable and would rather be in a seedy bar drinking himself silly.

Basic History

Morn was born in a small village on the continent of Faedrun, and by the time he was the age of six, his family made the voyage over to Mardrun. The trip was harsh on Morn and he became very ill over the course of the venture. Death was kept at bay thanks to Morn’s own mother, but his memory of his life back on Faedrun and the voyage to Mardrun is nothing but a blur due to the fever that plagued him through their journey.

After only four years upon the new continent, bandits came upon the family, killing his parents and leaving the young boy to die after they have taken their plunder. It wasn’t easy; however, Morn had recently started to learn how to hunt from his father at the time and turned this skill into a means of survival. Through this he was able to take what game he could get to the local taverns and inns for some coin and food.

Around the age he was twenty, once again bandits crossed his path. There were only two of them but Morn was never a fighter. With great effort he was able to drive off one of the bandits and slay the other, however he gained terrible wounds in the process. His consciousness would flutter in and out for some time as he laid there bleeding out, but when he came to, he found himself being nursed back to life by a man who had stumbled upon his beaten body while traveling through the area.

The man said his name was Kaddock O Flannagain and that he was simply traveling through the area on his way home from visiting family. Kaddock decided to invite Morn back to his home in Baile Onoir where he could stay and recover, which Morn accepted. During his time with Kaddock, Morn learned how to fight from the local mercenary group, The Broken Blade Company. During his time spent there, Morn learned that Kaddock was a brewer and dreamed of one day opening his own tavern, and he imparted much of knowledge of food and drink to Morn.

Kaddock’s son Diarmaid though, had no interest in his father’s dream and instead wanted to join The Broken Blades to fight for glory and coin. When the war in the dirge began, Diarmaid left home to fight on the front lines. During this time Morn saved up his coin while working under Kaddock to buy a wagon and supplies, starting his traveling tavern the Wagon Wheel.

After several months on the road, a messenger found Morn and informed him that Diarmaid had been severely wounded in a battle in the dirge. Morn traveled with his tavern wagon to the medic tents of the many Ulven war camps to find and check in on Diarmaid. When Morn did find him, the healers told Morn that Diarmaid did not make it due to his wounds and infections. While in the camp Morn ran into Commander Volrok. Morn and the commander decided to drink to Diarmaid’s memory, and as the mead and beer set in Morn decided to challenge the commander to a drinking competition.

Morn, who had never lost a drinking competition before that night, woke up with the worst hangover he has ever had. There was a fuzzy memory of the commander shouting, “I WON!” at the top is his lungs in Morn’s ear as he was fading into unconsciousness. Impressed by the commander’s ability to endure so much intoxication, Morn approached the commander about joining the blades to offer the services of his tavern. The commander gladly accepted his offer and instead gave him charge of the Drunken Cardinal.

Home
/
Wiki Pages
/
Page 38

Ulrik Graytide

CHARACTER NAME: Ulrik Graytide of Pack Graytide, Clan Grimward
PLAYED BY: Andrez “Peanut” Beltran
CONTACT INFO: Andrez Beltran on Facebook.
GENDER: Male
CLASS: Warrior
AGE: 30ish
RACE: Ulven
HAIR: Black
EYES: Brown
OCCUPATION: Warrior to Pack Greytide, of Clan Grimward
KNOWN SKILLS: Warrior trades
BIRTHPLACE:
APPEARANCE: Short; dark skinned
NOTABLE TRAITS: Carries trophies of defeated enemies with him. A gray rope
denoting his Clan.
RELATIONSHIPS: Mate to Tova Goldmane
RUMORS:
Some say he fought with Hunting Parties against the Mordok, and then the Civil War.
Some say he only fought in the Civil War.
Some say he only fought in the Dirge War.
Others say he’s never fought in any wars.
There a few who say he actively fled from battle.
There are some that say he isn’t even Graytide or Grimward, but fled from somewhere
else.
There are also some who say he sometimes is Graytide, and sometimes not.
BIO / BACKGROUND HISTORY:

Ulrik Graytide is a warrior of some skill. He is not known outside of his Pack, except to maybe some of the Ulven who fought by his side during the Civil and Dirge Swamp Wars. No scars on his skin speak of battles won or lost. His symbol, the White Star, is not known to any Nightriver, Ironmound, or Stormjarl. No talesinger sings tales of his deeds.

Ulrik himself is very typical Grimward. He is distrusting of those outside his Clan and carries an extreme dislike for non-Ulven. He is also a very typical Graytide; quick to offense, quick to brawl, but very cunning. He likes to provoke a challenge, and settle things with fists.

When he speaks on the past, most of it is dismissive or divisive in nature. He likes to speak of the accomplishments of Khulgar Graytide in killing colonists, and showing of the trophies he has taken from those he has claimed to kill. When he speaks on the present, he lets all know how much he hates the current political arrangements. The indignity of having the colonists on Mardrun, of the result of the civil war, the cowardice of Stormjarl, and the retreat from the Dirge War. When he speaks of the future he speaks of a resurgent Graytide; how they will push the Mordok back again, how they will strike down those who oppose them.

The only known Companion to him is his mate, Tova Goldmane. A typical Goldmane, she is quick to laugh, to boast, to fight. The two make a distinct pair, and they are either getting along greatly or quarrelling about something. Tova claimed Ulrik as her mate after showing considerable interest in him. Ulrik, a warrior by nature, noted it but did not move on the interest. He was focused on the next fight. She, on the other hand, did not take no for an answer, and demanded he court and become her mate. Ulrik knew of her, and decided it was not a bad proposition. Or at least that is what he tells those who ask. There seems to be genuine affection between the two. Many a foolhardy person has made the mistake of commenting on it, and getting a comment or fist from one of the pair. She has been by his side, and he hers, for as long as either have known them. Perhaps less a fighter, she is deadly with a bow.

Ulrik is known to disappear from Pack Graytide and Clan Grimward territory without saying much (or anything), and is gone for a variable amount of time. Sometimes it is quick; sometimes it is much longer. Up until recently, he has never taken Tova with, nor has she concerned herself with it. They are two distinct parts to a whole. However, she has expressed her interest in coming with him now. Despite these wanderings, Ulrik is never too far to respond to his Warleader’s commands. When summoned, he appears. None ask where he comes from, or the new trophies he has. He is a Graytide, and war is in their blood. If he actually is a Graytide. Some question it as he is not remembered as clearly as others. Some don’t; remembering clearly. Either way, when he is with Graytide he is with Graytide, and has never given them doubt.

With possible war on the horizon, it is a good time to to have a warrior such as him.

Home
/
Wiki Pages
/
Page 38

Tova Goldmane [Hersir]

CHARACTER NAME: Tova Goldmane of Pack Goldmane, of Clan Grimward
PLAYER NAME: Kathy Beltran
GENDER: Female
CLASS: Warrior
AGE: 30ish
RACE: Ulven
HAIR: Blonde
EYES: Blue
OCCUPATION: Warrior of Pack Goldmane, to Clan Grimward
KNOWN SKILLS: Archery, Combat
BIRTHPLACE: Pack Goldmane territory
APPEARANCE: Short, powerful Ulven warrior
RELATIONSHIPS: Mate to Ulrik Greytide
RUMORS:
BIO / BACKGROUND HISTORY:

Tova Goldmane is a paragon of the endangered Pack Goldmane. She is quick to laugh, easy to joke, loves to talk, but also is incited to anger and quarrelling quickly, but falls back to good mood just as quickly. She has been compared to the element of air by her mate, Ulrik Graytide. Mercurial of mood and temperament.

Tova Goldmane is one of the few remaining Goldmanes on the continent of Faedrun. During the initial wars with the Invaders, the Goldmane warriors were slaughtered when they went to announce the truce. She had been there to see Khulgar Graytide bring the bodies of the slain back.

Tova, a girl at the time, had been too young to understand why her father and brothers had been killed. Mistakes and the ironies of fate meant nothing to her yet. The sight of her father, and brothers, lying dead in the field after the Graytides returned them meant something. It meant anguish, and despair, and something she had never really felt until now. Something like anger, but more, hotter, darker. The day her pack was ended by the Invaders meant hate. Hate for all of them.

That hate could have poisoned its way into her heart and made her as vile as the Invaders. It could have eaten at her, making her self-destruct in booze and rage as many others. It could have meant she would have brought shame upon her name, her families, and her pack. All that could have happened. What did happen was the hate was tempered. While they funeral pyres burned as hot as her hate, Khulgar Graytide, who brought vengeance upon the hated group of Invaders. They killed the intruders until the Longfangs had intervened. Tova did not know who the
Longfangs were, but her hate for the Invaders bled over to the Longfangs. Who were they to deny the Goldmanes their due?

Tova watched as her Pack split. She knew what that meant; Goldmane would die. Those who had relatives in other Packs left to join them. Tova did not have the luxury. She was one of the few to go with the Graytides to their home. And why not? They had delivered Goldmane justice, and Khulgar was married to a Goldmane. They were close enough as kin. Besides, the Graytides were strong, fierce warriors. She would be a strong, fierce warrior as well. Tova trained. She worked hard with her adopted Graytide family, doing chores, chopping wood, helping in the fields. She did all the things a warrior would need. Her true calling was in the use of the bow; a truer shot was never had. Scuffles are common with the Graytide, and she took her knocks and bruises as well, but she fast became accustomed to it and the Pack began to know her reputation for endurance in a fight.

During the Ulven Civil War, she was kept home at Pack Graytide. While she had wished to go to war and slay her hated enemies, Khulgar ordered her to protect the home front. Goldmanes were too few now to throw away. Besides, someone needed to stay back and protect her kin if the Invaders did something treacherous.

During this time, a Graytide began to take her interest: Ulrik Graytide. She had not known him, which was strange; the Pack was overly large. He appeared with a group of Graytide after a hunting raid during the Civil War. When she had asked the other warriors, they simply said he was a traveling Graytide. That was perhaps true, as Graytide often traveled and Tova might not notice him if her was gone for long periods. And he often was; he journeyed to hunt Mordok, Invaders, and treacherous Ulven. He never came back with scars. The lack of scars often spoke of cowardice or noviceness. When she spoke to his Packmates, they stated neither. He was seen in the shieldwall, but sometimes he went hunting by himself. Both spoke to her of skill. Tova, a Goldmane as she was, let her interest be known. He seemed…less enthusiastic than she deemed appropriate. As such, she made sure her overtures were direct and deliberate. He still seemed to not commit. Finally, she told him they were to court, and that was the end of it. And it
was. She did not question him about why and what happened when he left, and he did not question her about what she did while he was gone. The pair were obviously in love and when seen were either affectionate, or quarreling. After a year of courtship, they were mated. He still wandered, and she still followed her own muse.

It was not until after the Civil War that Tova saw her first Invaders. A merchant group from Ironmound passed through with a couple of Ulven. However, part of the group was a Syndar barkeep. As there was no ongoing feud between them, she kept her distance. She did not know if she could control herself, and would not disgrace her Clan and her Pack. Her observations of them deemed them strange. Their guards were armored well; some so well only Ironmound warriors could compare. This made her wonder about what else she did not know. She decided that she would go with Ulrik next time he went out. He had asked why, an she had told him because she wanted to see what these Invaders were like. He just nodded, knowing when she set her mind to something it was best to go along with it.