[CHAR] Vikings Westward (closed)

[Wick]

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Aksel Hallgrimsson

Aksel Hallgrimsson

Name: Aksel Hallgrimsson

Race/Faction: Viking

Age: 28 or 29

Description: Aksel is tall, standing at 6'3". When working around his home he is usually wearing his normal clothing but when he is in town, on a ship or raiding he is found in full battle gear wearing link mail and armor carrying axes and a shield. He has dirty blond hair that is shaved on both sides leaving him with a braid that goes down to his back as is common for the time. He also has grown out his beard and banded it together as if it were in a pony tail. All of this would be nothing without his sharp piercing blue eyes.

"Class": warrior-Danish Earl

History: Aksel was raised up in the viking environment. He worked on the family farm and when raiders attacked and killed his father he took up arms and started fighting back with others of his clan. Eventually he got into a skirmish with his Earl and killed him in one on one combat leading to his own ascension to Earl. As many of the vikings moved south to raid and war Aksel did too. He has never married and the girl that had his heart years ago died during childbirth along with his daughter. Since then Aksel has led a life focused on making things safer for those around him.

Strengths: Physically strong, Loyal, Protective, Aggressive, Smart

Weakness: Women, Can come off as cold when he is being aggressive, Cares a little too much sometimes

What is the most important thing to know about your character? When he says he is "all in" He is usually "in" too far. {Loyal to a fault}

What is your character's greatest flaw? Sometimes he gets stuck in the past on the loss of his lady and child.

Writing sample

While skinning the fur off of the large cat Aksel hummed a little tune from his childhood. Knowing he was alone he had his guard up, just in case. He heard the arrow coming at him before he saw it and he ducked his head and dove towards his shield. "Come out and face me like a man ya bloody coward!"

A figure darted through the trees and noisily surrounded him. He chuckled realizing who it was. he put his axe back and snuck into the woods and behind the perpetrator and kicked him in the back of the leg. He chuckled as the boy went down. The boy rolled over and said, "Did you know I was there the entire time?" Giving him an arm up Aksel nodded and grinned.

"You were noisier than a grizzly bear."

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Reidun Gundersdottir

Reidun Gundersdottir

Name: Reidun Gundersdottir

Race/Faction: Viking

Age: 25

Description: Reidun is on the tall side for a woman at 5'9". She has a slender build but she is strong. She has waist length flaming red hair and a pale complexion that makes her appearance quite striking. There is softness about her that is visible in her eyes. She is most often found in a green dress with fur at the top.

"Class": Shield maiden

History: Reidun grew up in Aksel's house. She was raised as family because her family was killed in a raid when she was five. When Aksel went to Kattegat she followed. She likes adventure. She was also afraid of some of the men in her village so she made herself indispensable to Aksel.

Strengths: Good fighter, Strong, cares about others, Very intelligent, beautiful

Weakness: can not swim, refuses to kill children, easily identifiable by her appearance

What is the most important thing to know about your character? She is kindhearted.

What is your character's greatest flaw? She likes to see the goodness in others to the point that she often lets them off too easily.

writing sample

Reidun turned and blocked the sword with her own and as she pushed a little harder the other sword flew from her opponent's hand. Her sword now at his throat she looked at him stonily just before striking the death blow. She bent over his body and wiped his blood from her sword and onto his clothing. Hearing a baby crying her heart flipped and she left the few remaining men to fight and she ran towards the crying babe.

Barely ten feet into the woods she found the infant in the arms of a small girl of no more than five or six years old. Sheathing her sword she bent over the child who clutched the infant with desperation. "I'll not harm you." Looking further into the woods she caught sight of a woman who looked to be the mother. She appeared to be unwell and Reidun hurried the children to their mother and ushered them to leave quickly. "Go now, you do not have to die today."

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Princess Marewen of Mercia

Name: Princess Marewen

Race/Faction: Christian

Age: 19

Description: Princess Marewen has light golden brown hair with brown eyes and delicate features with soft pink lips. She is often seen with a companion who is charged with keeping her safe and making certain that she doesn't lose her virginity. She is a small young woman at 110 lbs and 5'2" tall. Marewen's pale skin is almost totally covered in order to keep it out of the sun's light. Her brown eyes have golden flecks in them and if one were to pay attention they would notice that she is very bright indeed.

"Class": Royalty, Daughter of King Phillip of Mercia

History: Born and raised as the royal child of King Phillip is both a blessing and a curse on Marewen. She is shown off as a prize to be bid for or given away in exchange for top dollar, land or for armies. Her beauty is beyond many of the other princesses therefore she is more valuable to her father, but not in the way she would like. He considers her a possession not a person worthy of his love and attention. What she wants the most is to be loved and valued for herself and not her name or parentage.

Strengths: Beautiful, Intelligent, Passionate, Daring, Determined

Weakness: Small physically, Easily Identifiable, Can not fight

What is the most important thing to know about your character? She doesn't want to be bartered like a possession.

What is your character's greatest flaw? She is naive.

Writing Sample

Marewen slipped the powder into the woman's tea and walked quickly to the window to appear innocent. "So what will you do if he accepts the deal the Prince has offered him?"

Shaking her head she replied. "I guess I'll be marrying that old man's son. I can only hope he is kinder and better than his father." The quiet noise of the woman's head lolling to the side in slumber emitted a slow smile upon the princess' face. Hurrying to the door she slipped out and down the hallways ducking into the kitchens. The laundry was still not folded and put away yet. She smiled and took some clothes.

[Sirkaithethird]

Uffr Jotunn

Appearance: Tall, he towers over even the tall Norsemen, Blond, dark blue eyes, a gruff weathered face. Wears 4 silver bands on his arms.
Name: Uffr Jotunn (Uffr the Giant)
Race: Norse
Age: 34
Personality: To his enemies he is the devil, his ship the Odin's Whisper strikes fear into them, but to his friends he is "as soft hearted as a kitten"
Backstory: Uffr grew up by the Sea, he learned how to sail, and how to fish, once he came of age he learned the art of killing. Recently he has earned his first ship, The Odins Whisper (Odins þǫgn) He knows the horrors of a shield wall and yet he has not been broken.
Equipment: Uffr isn't rich enough to own a sword but he knows that the axe has more versatility anyways, he knows how to pull down an enemy's shield for a friendly to stab the man, he knows how to hit with the back side and how to kill.He has affectionally named the bearded axe Thunderedge. Uffr also keeps a saxe by his side to deliver the "below" thrust. His shield is just a plane wooden shield but it was made bigger to protect his large size. On his head he wears a Nasal Helmet, On his chest Uffr wears a cheap but effective Scale armor over that he wears a cloak of wool.


Class: Captain
Skills (Strengths): Sailing, axe fighting, Commanding, clear thinking in battle
Weaknesses: Size, with his size he presents a large target, Softie, to friends he can easily be used, quick to anger on the battlefield he builds up a rage,

Writing Examples

(Note to self Color code = FFA500)
Dialogue: Uffr was holding the cowering merchant by his tunic, "Little man, I'm not asking again, now where is your lord?" The man pointed east, "re-returning here" " See? That wasn't so bad, all I have to do now is kill your lord"

Battle: Uffr saw the enemy commander turn and without taking his eyes off the enemy group he yelled "Wall!" With trained precision the men under Uffr's command came together each protecting the man next to him. Uff gazed out across the hillside, he had predicted right, the enemy had formed a wall of their own, but were there archers was the next question. "Second rank" he called the two sides seemed to fold inward and shields went up to protect high. Now came the waiting game, but no! They must advance they were at the bottom of the hill and with the shields above the front line could reach under for the legs. Uffr slowly started walking forward beating Thunderedge on his shield, soon the whole line had joined in the increasing tempo matching the pace that the wall was moving, reaching a fast walk when the tempo evened. Then the walls collided with a force equal on both sides little progress was made, Uffr pulled out his Saxe, and went for a open man, then he felt it, the sword joy, the killing feeling and he knew Thor was smiling down on his men.

[Raylah]

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Isgred Ulfdottir

Isgred Ulfdottir

Race/Faction: Viking
Age: 26

Description: Isgred is tall and lean. She has long dark hair and piercing brown eyes. She usually wears long dark robes and cloaks made of fur of the most fierce animals. These were given to her as a gift and a token of respect by various Viking chieftains. Like all vǫlur, she carries a long staff made of wood from the sacred grove of Upsalla, decorated by various trinkets and fetishes. She also always has her satchel with the healing necessities nearby.

Class: vǫlva – a seer and a healer

History:
Isgred’s fate was set even before her birth. Her father was a famous warrior and her mother was a famous vǫlva. Isgred’s two older brothers both became strong and fearsome raiders and Isgred was sent to the temple Upsalla to study. There she learned about the sacred art of divination, all about the gods and how to please each of them and the ways of using different herbs for healing or even taking lives.

A quiet, peaceful life of the vǫlur and other priests in Upsalla wasn’t for her. Being a fighter after her father, she would leave as soon as she passed her final rites and carved her staff. She returned home and joined a smaller raid to the coast of Frankia, putting her skills to a test in real battle conditions. She enjoyed the battle, even just watching it from a safe spot in the healers’ tent. When other group of enemies suddenly attacked the camp, Isgred joined the fight, using her staff and a dagger taken from a fallen warrior. She enjoyed killing Christians, feeling like it meant fulfilling the will of the gods.

Strengths:
A skilled healer, great dedication to help her people to kill as many Christians as possible, a seer who can sometimes unravel glimpses of the future

Weakness:
Blinding hatred for the Christians, lack of proper fighting skills, over-confidence

What is the most important thing to know about your character?
Isgred believes that the Norse gods are the only true gods and the presence of Christians in the world insults them greatly.

What is your character's greatest flaw?
She is over-confident, despite her lack of fighting skills she often gets too close to fights and put herself in danger. Also she is sort of a religious fanatic.

Writing example

“So, what is my future?” The boy was eager and nervous. Understandable given his age, he couldn’t have been more than fourteen summers old.

Isgred knew he was going on his first raid with his father tomorrow. “Patience, young man. Did you bring what I asked?” The boy nodded and handed her a coin and a jar filled with tallow as a gift; she would later use the tallow to make herbal ointments to heal wounds. “Very well.” She took a knife out and run it lightly across his palm, so that a thin line of blood would appear. Isgred reached for a pouch with the bones, they rattled quietly as she emptied the pouch into boy’s hand.

“Throw them,” she told the boy and he turned the hand over, letting the bones drop onto the table. Isgred carefully studied the patterns. Some of the carved runes were clearly visible, some were hidden under a layer of fresh blood. The boy stared at the bones almost breathless, no doubt trying to see what only she could see.

She saw a lot of things – life and death, bravery and cowardice, hate and… no, no love. It didn’t seem like the boy was going to make it back from the raid – these young ones were sometimes trying too hard to prove themselves, often becoming reckless and putting themselves in danger’s way. Even though the bones never lied, they sometimes hid the truth in the most mysterious ways.

“Your fate contains many things,” she told the boy. “I can see a great battle and I can see you becoming a hero. Beware the danger of cowardice in other people’s hearts.” That much she could say. The boy was excited at the mention of becoming a hero and he probably didn’t even hear her warning. But that wasn’t her problem. He paid for a prophecy and he got one, what he would do with it was his thing.

[Joker892]

Name: Kaden Yamir

Race/Faction: Christian

Age: 24

Description: Kaden stands at a height of 6'2 and is built to insure the perfect balance between defensive and offensive combat. His tanned skin is slightly scarred from his many years of training and combat. He has a small stubble of brown hair and has short dark brown hair. He has dull grey eyes and over the left eye is a rather large scar from one of his past mistakes. He normally keeps his armor on since that is what he feels most comfortable in.

Armor

Face

"Class": Knight.

History: Kaden was born within a family of farmers, or better known as peasants. He lived the first six years of his life struggling to survive the long and harsh winters with only his father since his mother had died when he was two thanks to starvation. His father was a bitter old man who seemed to try and make Kaden's childhood even harder as he would regularly abuse him in physical and mental ways. Beatings, days without food, verbally cursing him of his mothers death and even to go as far as locking him within the barns by himself. Kaden is still amazed that he even survived at all. Thankfully at the age of seven Kaden seemed to find a break as he was making a trip to the main towns markets. As he browsed the markets goods that he could afford he saw that a small contest was being held by a few high ranking men of the crown.

With his interest peeked he got a closer look and saw that a few knights of the crown were holding a small competition to find their next squire. Kaden was hesitant at first, but after one of the knights told the crowd of the life that awaited a squire he saw it as a chance to escape his father. He was quick to offer his hand in the competition, but he was nearly denied that chance as the crowd, and a few knights, laughed at him as if he was just a foolish child with his head in the stars. Thankfully though a few of the knights saw the look of determination within Kaden's eyes and allowed him to enter. It was a series of hard challenges, but in the end Kaden shocked everyone, the knights included, and was accepted as one of the five to become a knights squire. As his now fellow squires said their goodbyes Kaden was quick to leave for the castle, and left without saying a word to his father.

The years as a squire went on for Kaden. They were tough, but he was much happier with this life and began to see a better purpose for his life. He saw the duty and importance that came with being a knight of the kingdom and worked hard to keep up with his fellow men of the crown. At the age of 21 his hard work and determination was finally noticed and he was given the title as a knight. With his new found fire of duty and responsibility Kaden made the oath to protect the kingdom, the king and it's people until is final breath.

Strengths: Brave, strategy, leader, combat and loyal.

Weakness: Stubborn, reckless, blindly loyal, quick to fight.

What is the most important thing to know about your character?

He will stop at nothing when it comes to fulfilling his oath.

What is your character's greatest flaw?

He doesn't know when to quit.

Sample

The smell of blood and smoke filled Kaden's nostrils as he glared at the scene of a caravan being raided by a group of bandits. With gritted teeth he held his sword up high and spurred his mount forward towards the battle. "Cut the bastards down!" he shouted to his fellow knights of eight as he was the first to charge. They replied with a cry of battle that caught the bandits attention. The bandits, knowing they had no chance in out running the mounted knights readied themselves for the coming charge. The bandit the closes to the knights raised his mace into the air and cursed them before charging towards Kaden. With a grunt Kaden swiftly cut through the bandits neck and gave a quick kick, sending the gurgling bandit to the ground in a choking fit. His fellow knights were quick to pass him and began cutting down the rest of the attackers. Kaden spotted a bandit with a poorly made spear charging him and leaped from his mount with a smirk under his helmet.

"Fucking dogs!" the bandit screamed as he lunged towards Kaden with his spear. With ease he deflected the bandits attack and drove a knee into his got before pushing him to the side. The bandit gasped and sucked in air as he struggled to keep himself on his feet. Kaden cracked his neck with a chuckle and drew a line in the dirt, separating the two. Without any words he gestured the bandit to try again. The bandit, now filled with even more rage roared with anger as he charged forward once again. He to attempted to plunge his pear into Kadens skull, but his attack was for nothing as Kaden simply moved his head to the left and drove his long sword into the bandits gut with wet tearing noise. The bandit gasped with wide eyes as he clutched tight onto Kaden. He looked to Kaden with shocked eyes as if he need to conformation on what had just happened. Kaden gave another chuckle before driving his helmet into his skull and ripping his sword from his gut. The bandit crumpled to the ground in a lifeless heap and Kaden simply shook his head before looking to the rest of the battle to see that his fellow knight were just finishing off the rest. He smiled under his helmet and rested his sword onto his armored shoulder. His pride now shined over the corpses of the dead and he let out a sigh.

"Job well done."

[pandapolio]

Harek Hallson

Name: Harek Hallson

Race/Faction: Viking Raider

Age: 32

Description: Harek is slightly taller than the average man at 5'11" and weighs about 195 lbs. Harek wears no armor as is tradition by Úlfhéðnar. He wears the wolf head that signifies his position with pride. He has long blond hair and a scraggly beard; with deep blue eyes he is the personification of Norse blood. He has scars crisscrossed across his body (probably a byproduct of not wearing armor), though his face is surprisingly unscathed.

He is the one on the left. Your left.

"Class": Úlfhéðnar

History: Harek is a Úlfhéðnar. That is all that needs to be said about what he has endured. A personal warrior of Odin, he has gone through endless pain to reach where he has today. His father was a raider, his father's father was a raider, and so on. Raiding was in his blood, so it was natural for him to join a long ship to the west when he came of age. That is where he found himself; the heat of combat made his blood boil, the blood of his enemies was the sweetest nectar, his sword biting into his enemies gave him immense joy. He was in love, in love with war. He only returned to his homeland when forced to, preferring to "hunt" prey in the pathetic Christian lands. After years slaughtering in the British Isles he earned his bearskin. Now a full fledged beserker he was among the elite of the Viking raiders. He enjoyed the promotion because it meant he had more chances to kill. More chances to taste the blood of his enemies. The next part of his life was a blur of constant combat and pain. Fight, heal, fight, heal, fight, heal......... He loved it. Eventually he was chosen to be a warrior of Odin. The hofgothi tested his body, pushing him to his thresh hold of pain and life. Harek emerged from it a changed man, no longer afraid of death he was a true servant of Odin. He was a weapon for the gods to use against their enemies.

Strengths: Incredible warrior; fearless; terrifying

Weakness: blood crazed; quite insane; fanatic

What is the most important thing to know about your character?

He is an insane, homicidal, maniac who kills for the fun of it.

What is your character's greatest flaw?

Well...... as previously mentioned he is an insane, homicidal, maniac who kills for the fun of it. So yeah.....

my example

It was always annoying working with a newer raiding party. Of course the skirl was a veteran raider, but it was his first time leading his own raid. That had lead him into making some rookie mistakes, all very minor. Those minor mistakes though have compounded into the raiding party being barricaded inside a small hamlet, surrounded by a large militia made up of the surrounding villages. The skirl had stayed in this area for too long, causing the villages to finally strike back against the raiders with organized resistance.

They had been enjoying themselves in the small village when the militia came out of the woods already surrounding the village. They numbered about three times the viking's numbers. Harek had been eating an apple from the village's food supplies when the militia came out of the woods. That had been two hours ago and the rookie captain had yet to think of a way out of this. Harek was tired of waiting and wanted blood. He had gave the captain a chance, but time was up. Getting up he walked over to the captain and nudged him with his boot.

"Get a fire started and bring me any men with bows. Prepare the rest for battle." Harek began to stretch his sword arm and check his sword for rust. When the fire began to burn brightly Harek waved the five men who had brought bows for hunting over to him. He looked over at the armed peasants over in the woods and had the archers shoot one volley into the woods. The trees blocked most of the arrows, but one managed to land into the crowd of men. The peasant scooted back from where they thought the range of the arrows are. Harek turned around and told the men with axes to start cutting cottages into firewood. Harek couldn't wait much longer, he needed a fight. He needed to make a hole in the enemy and he was fairly sure he knew how.

The formation of Vikings slowly made their way towards the peasants. They were chanting while pressing forward in a shield wall. The peasants were backing up every time the vikings took a step forward. They weren't seasoned warriors like the vikings and most had never killed a man before. The militia had backed farther and farther into the woods. As the vikings reached the edge of the forest they stopped and for a second the world was silent. Harek stepped out of the formation in one hand his sword and in the other a burning plank from one of the houses. As he took a few steps forward he could feel the the dead leaves beneath his feet. It had been a while since rain had fallen. He held the flaming stick out in front of him and looked deep into the fire. He then turned to the right and threw the stick. It spun for a bit then landed in the brush a distance away. For a second nothing happened then a small flame could be seen growing. Harek let out a shout and 15 other torches came flying out of the formation and began to make more small fires.

The fire began to spread and grow quickly. The militia began to back away from the fires, causing a group to be isolated from the rest of their comrades. Harek let out a war cry and charged the isolated group. His fellow raider broke the shield wall and also charged. The combat was brutally short and the vikings showed no mercy. As Harek struck down the last man he looked for another target, seeing the frightened faces on the other side of the fire and began to sprint toward the fire. Right before he reached the fire three vikings grabbed him and began dragging him away. Harek was screaming bloody murder at the vikings telling them to let him go. The Vikings made their escape in the cover of the fire.

[Sigurd]

Þórsteinn Halvardsson

Name: Þórsteinn Halvardsson

Race/Faction: Northman

Age: 24

Description:
Þórsteinn (far right) and his brothers:

Þórsteinn is a man of average height for his time, but an unexpected strength lays in him, honed by some years of rowing, hacking and labour. His hair and beard are brown with some red in it, and his eyes grey. He wears his hair tied back in a knot. His most often wears leather boots, dark woolen breeches, a belt, a tunic, a cloak, and his axe. He has tattoos on the back of his neck and his upper chest, crude depictions of sea beasts and a rune sequences dedicated to Ægir and Njǫrðr. His right hand had been burnt

"Class": Whaler crewman /Whale hunter/ Hunter/ Fighter for pay as of late

History: Þórsteinn comes from a family that has been in the whaling business for as long as people have hunted them in those parts. He and his brothers inherited their father’s ships two years prior to the story, but their partnership did not last long. Þórsteinnwas soon exiled from the land for killing a man who happened to be Jarl’s nephew with a harpoon. Þórsteinn learned from the other crewmembers that the man wanted to capture him in his sleep and give him to a Muslim chieftain to be his slave in exchange for a well-made saber. Þórsteinn tricked him by pretending to be asleep, and as soon as the man lay his hands on him, he turned over and pierced him through.

He was lucky the Jarl considered the youngster a possible future enemy for the title of the ruler, and thanks to this he kept his life, although the Jarl had to maintain an appearance of anger and ended up dealing some sort of justice. Everyone suspected this was the case, but of course everyone kept their mouths shut and let it all slide. So Þórsteinn ended up exiled from the country for a year and a half, and exiled from his hometown forever.

Þórsteinn this time in a Slavic tribe to the east until the ban was lifted, but no one knows a lot about his life there. He was apparently a hunter and worked for a local chieftain in exchange for a place to sleep and food, and he also went on expeditions to the east with traders and plunderers. The chieftain apparently grew to like him and praised his skill in fighting, navigating, sailing and raiding other neighbouring places, and for this he gave him many rings, trinkets, furs, and had Þórsteinn's current weapon forged for saving his son’s life, a ‘bastard’ axe, too long and heavy to be a normal one, but not quite long to be a two-handed weapon. Þórsteinn hid all this treasure except for the axe in a location only he knows about.

Þórsteinn also claims to have married the chieftain’s daughter thanks to this feat, but she does not appear to be travelling with him, although his plans are to earn money in plunder to start his own whaling business and allow her to move in with him into a decent home because she’s from a richer background.

Since he can now return to the country, but not to his home town from which he is banned for life, he seeks work in other towns and ports.

Strengths: Experienced sailor; physically more than capable; navigation; knowledge of foreign herbalism and improvised medicine; understands some foreign languages he learned during his exile.

Weakness: He does not believe in using shields and much armor: more than often he’ll fight just in a tunic or even without it, if a battle breaks suddenly; he’s prone to disregard the opinions of the priests and try to go against their warnings if he thinks he could get away with it; he’s prejudiced against many foreigners after his experience with the Spanish Muslims.

What is the most important thing to know about your character: He has nothing to lose.

One paragraph writing example of dialogue or interaction with another character plus a second paragraph writing example of combat. If your character is a non-combatant (i.e. specializes in healing) use whatever specialization that character would have for the second paragraph.

Dialogue

“Do you see the billows, boy?” Halvard asked his little son, pointing at the fjord. “How they rise and crash on the rocks?”

”Yes, father,” Þórsteinn said, staring at the sea through the hail. The truth was, he could barely see the water, because it was almost as dark as the cliffs it beat upon. “Is this why you and brothers pulled the ships on shore? Because of the storm?”

”Yes, yes, of course!” he answered and pulled his hood back on, this time clutching it with his fingers. “They would have shattered into pieces, the storm is so wild. The most violent one in years, I tell ya.”

Thor confirmed these words with a thunder.

“What about the people who have no yet returned?” Þórsteinn asked and wiped the damp hair from his forehead.

“They are at the waves’ mercy now, I am afraid. Maybe Njǫrðr will spare them, and take them to Nóatún and prepare a feast for them!”

But in a way known only to children, Þórsteinn could sense the worry underneath his father’s words, and the sea became a horrible realm in his eyes for the first time.

”Maybe the giants have taken them,” Þórsteinn said.

“Nonsense! You speak like your mother now!” Halvard reproached him. “The waves are alive, boy. They are Ægir’s daughters. They are merely crying for the passing of Baldr blessed by all the gods. Their sadness and tears cause the storms and in their misery they toss the ships into the sky, so Óðinn tells us.”

The sea certainly seemed swollen to the boy, and in his childish imagination he pictured great sea maids trashing in the depths, weeping for their loss, and, much like he and other kids would when their will was denied, picking up the ships and throwing them furiously away as if they were toys. He longed to switch the subject.

“Is it true, papa? About mother.”

”Ha! Her stories about her grandmother?”

”Yes.”

”Who knows...” said Halvard. “We believe stranger things than her story, that’s for sure.”

”So her grandma really was a Valkyrie?” he asked wide-eyed.

”Go inside,” said Halvard. It’s getting cold.

He ushered the boy inside and followed him, althought he lingered for a moment, perhaps to say a prayer for the companions he knew would not return with the morning.

Combat (in medias res)

Warlord Vsevlad's archers proved to be too larger in number than they expected. It was the first time Þórsteinn's tactic seemed to be shaken and the men around him became confused. They were all on the edge, not knowing whether to fly or maintain formation. The deal was to occupy the archers while the vanguard advanced through the woods on their side unnoticed; but the enemy surprised them with their numbers, because their chief had hired mercenaries from the east whose bow skills were unreal, and Þórsteinn could have sworn he saw some of them shooting from horseback. The volleys were so thick that every time they loosed one an arrow would find its way through the gaps in the shields.

"We have to remain where we are!" Þórsteinn commanded. "Just stay where you are, alive or dead! We have to wait for the other group to come from around! Advance slowly in between volleys!"

The man to his right screamed as a splinter from the shield stabbed him in the eye. Þórsteinn raised the man's shield with his hand. "Hold the shield up!" But it was late, another volley was on them and the man lay dead in seconds with arrows in his thighs and liver. "Heads down! Shields up!"

Their pitiful situation encouraged some of the enemies to try their luck, thinking themselves invincible and sure to win. The fools wanted glory so they charged at the shields under their own arrows. Some fell pierced in the back before they even crossed the stream, while others knocked against the wood with their shoulders and boots, trying to break the formation.

"Don't kill them! Push them forward, use them as shields!"

But that idea did not come to pass, because the enemy did not care about his own men. They fell dead immediately after the archers let loose another round. Þórsteinn's allies, seeing the fallen men had armor and arms of considerable quality, hoped to disarm the corpses and spoil them once they were close enough. But no sooner they had approached the corpses that the second group sounded their horn and the men began charging from the right. Þórsteinn saw rocks, spears and arrows flying and the enemy's attention turn to the other side. This is when his group began the charge and in no time they were over the stream and on top of the hill mingling with the enemy. Here Þórsteinn slew a dark eyed mercenary just as he was reaching for his knife: he smashed his face with the head of his ax and fell down facing the sky. The lightly armoured band was as laughable in close as it was terrifying from afar. Here Þórsteinn's friend Vladimir threw his lance and it stabbed a richly attired man through the breast, who must have been a noble warrior because many of his comrades surrounded the body and tried to drag him away lest his arms be taken by the enemy and his burial denied. A heated battle began near the dead man, and soon his body was lost among his kinsmen and enemies who lay killed around and above him.

etc. etc.

[sly13]

Conall Cassidy

Name: Conall Cassidy
Theme song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3tzE98pQH08
Race/Faction: VikingAge: 27


Description: Conall stands at a staggering 6’5 with 250 pounds of muscle, the kind only obtained from years of battle and training. He has mid length red hair which is cut short on the side and left to grow on top. He carries a short beard that is crept close to his face. He has palish skin that reflects his birth in the north were bright sunny days are scarce. Pale eyes that have seen the horrors of this world and that are filled with grief and regret. Always ready for a fight Conall always carries his two custom made war axes whose blades are engraved with family and tribal markings gifted to him by his father on his belt. Should he ever enter a planned battle Conall adornes green war paint with one vertical line above his right eye and two below the eye.
"Class": Berserker
History: Conall was born a raider to a small tribe in what is now known as northern Ireland. Conall grew to become a great fighter, the likes of which his clan had never seen before. Conall was trained as a young man to fight with ferocity in his heart and to defend those he cared for. He had taken these lessons to heart and wove them into his life and being. By the time Conall was fully grown he had reached a height and size that was hard to believe. Easily the biggest on most battlefields Conall became a feared enemy, and a trusted comrade.
Conall however would not be given an easy life and his hardships had only begun. When he was 25 his tribe had planned a raid on a city just off the coast. It was a simple raid that was by this point routine for the more experienced raiders. Most had believed this would be a easy battle in which they would simply roll over the poor village and be done. This would not be the case. When the morning came the village that Conall called home was laid in ruin. Standing amongst the carnage was the only survivor, Conall Cassidy. The only man to know of the event that unfolded Conall left his home land in search of a tribe that he can be of service to and something to distract him from the event of that night.

Strengths:
Superb Warrior: while he doesn't claim to have the best form of a fighter Collan is not easily defeated whether it be in the confusion of a battlefield or in a one on one engagement.
Resourceful: His long time spent in the woods and in the wilderness has taught him to survive on his own
Ruthless in battle: Conall living up to his title fights with a ferocity that is rarely found in men and isn't afraid to fight dirty in order to win, because after all it only matters if you won not how.
Protective: Collan would rather take the arrow himself then see a comrade fall in battle
Brawler: Evan before he was trained with a weapon Conall was trained in unarmed combat using his often superior size, weight, and strength to push his opponents around.

Weakness:
Constantly drinks: While never to the point of a belligerent Conall drinks mostly to numb the pain of his past
Loves a good fight: conall often gets lost in his fights enjoying it far more than he should. This can at times lead him to look for fights to fill the void between battles.
Closed off: because of his troubled past Conall rarely opens up to people in a meaningful way but those he does can be sure that they are now his family.
Kind: While Conall loves fighting and his viking lifestyle he is by no means heartless and will often times go out of his way to help others.
What is the most important thing to know about your character?
Conall absolutely despises treachery and cowardice, believing they are less than trash for abandoning his fellow men.
What is your character's greatest flaw?
He refuses to kill children or women who are unarmed and will try to merely disarm them or knock them unconscious if they pose a danger to loved ones.

[Raylah]

Cenwulf

Cenwulf Hildewísa

Race/Faction: Christian, English general (Mercia)

Age: 28

Description: Cenwulf is tall and he looks very young. He is usually wearing his full chainmail armor and a helmet and of course his sword and a shield. He has short brown hair and brown eyes. Being a very practical man, he doesn’t wear any jewelry except for a cross on his neck.

Class: General in the army of Mercia

History: Cenwulf was born into a baker family. However, he wasn’t satisfied with the prospects of that life. His village was attacked by Viking raiders several times, usually the militia managed to fight them off, but on two occasions they managed to get inside the city and sack it. When he was twelve, Cenwulf’s mother was brutally raped and killed during one of those raids, and Cenwulf himself fought bravely to defend his sister, killing one of the raiders.

After that he joined the militia and started training hard to become better than the others. Soon the recruiters from the king’s army noticed him and he was allowed to join, despite his young age and low birth. Being a stubborn and a dedicated warrior, he quickly rose through the ranks. He was very successful in leading an attack on a Viking outpost and wiping it out completely without too big loses.

The king has noticed his achievements and when the previous general died in battle, he appointed Cenwulf as the new general, despite several highborn men were prepared to accept the honor and take the position. Cenwulf isn’t very popular amongst the nobility, but he the king supports him and currently he commands the largest army in England.

Strengths: Loyal, physically strong, experienced fighter and leader

Weakness: A very bad liar, stubborn, sometimes too strict and hard on the men under his command

What is the most important thing to know about your character?
He wants to protect his people and drive the heathens out of his country.

What is your character's greatest flaw?
He is very strict about the morale of his men, so they don’t like him very much.

[King Tai]

Vestar

Name: Vestar Bragisson

Race/Faction: Viking

Age: 27

Description: Vestar is 6'2, 225 lbs of muscle. He's covered in tribal tattoo marks on his arms and face. He's usually shirtless and keeps a beard. He sports dark hair. When in battle, he wears a little more clothes involving armor. His weapons of choice, 2 battle axes.

"Class": Warrior

History: Vestar was born from a slave woman that became pregnant by a Viking raider and died from giving birth. His father took him under his wing to raise the boy to become a fine warrior but it did not come without it's difficulties. After the harsh training and near death experiences to become a hardened viking, Vestar started to become quite popular in his clan before his father plotted to abandon him out of fear that his own son would slain him to be the head of the clan. During a raid in the mountains, Vestar was kicked off the cliff by his father to be rid of him only for the boy to have survived the fall by catching onto something so to avoid death. That was when he was at the age of 16. Since then, he's grown into a fine viking, handling his own raids, bargaining, and trading but with the main goal of finding his father to get revenge.

Strengths: Courageous, capable well rounded fighter, tenacious, the ability to woo women

Weakness: Cocky, He's good a wooing women and finding a way to bed them but he lacks love, He has a temper, he has a unfiltered dirty mouth that can either get him in trouble or cause reproach upon himself.

What is the most important thing to know about your character? He has the potential to truly love someone and to be a good man, he just needs the right influence and direction to show him that he has good in his heart. He just has to learn to trust others

What is your character's greatest flaw? Lacks discipline

Sample Paragraph

Sitting up up from the fur covered bedding, the naked Vestar stood up and walked over to the sack of wine, to pour in the cup. He just finished his 5th round of sex with a local whore he picked up for the night. Upon drinking his wine, the woman spoke. I guess it is true that you can fuck as hard as you can fight! Vestar sighed, walking over to get his clothes on. Where are you going? You're not staying with me? Vestar looked over. Did you birth me? Are you my wife? No?.....then shut up and stay on your back like the whore you are and wait for your next pizzle...

Vestar found himself surrounded by three wolves that were looking to take the viking down. Savoring the meal to come, staring down the man and sniffing the air at the aroma of flesh, they were ready to pounce but something about this prey seemed odd. They actually hesitated to attack at first. Vestar gave a smirk when hearing the wolf from behind him charge. Through his training, the male worked on timing for his attacks. Tightening his grip on the handle of his axe, Vestar swiftly turned to swing his axe right when the wolf lunged at him, having his axe to meet the beast's head, severing it from it's body.

[Wick]

@Jakub Pociecha

I need a cs sheet. It's in the header in the OOC. We'll go from there.:)