LadyRunic

To Claim a Starting World

"It was hardly a meeting," Garin informed his daughter gruffly as he returned the hug heartily. While most men would gruff and wave off a hug, the healer was a soft enough man to accept it. Garin had lived an exciting life and enjoyed the quiet of the village. Something he kept to himself, lest his daughter take it in her head to wander the North and perhaps risk going South. "Vosker was worried and I was just alieving them. He wants a reply, an official reply, in two days and since Lutter showed up and I agreed to think upon what attacked the poor man..." Garin shook his head in slight annoyance, Vosker had been worrying but since Lutter no one else had been attacked so it well could have simply been an indignant young wolf or perhaps a bad prank that the perpetrators were hoping would never be solved. Moving to sit with his sweet daughter he dug into the stew, a far heavier breakfast than he was used to. Giving Gwendolyn a worried look, he raised a brow. "Daughter, Lutter was wounded twelve days ago. His wounds were more superficial and not helped by his drinking of the bitter brew." The man watched the young woman with a keen eye and seriously hoped that she did not think to make a court of Lutter. While Garin could sympathize with the young man, he did not want a drunk for a husband to his daughter. "That being the point, the headsman was merely had one of his worries that would not let him sleep and Yarra was beside herself with trying to get him to. It was hardly a meeting so much as delivering some soothing tea and listening to his ramblings on the matter." Giving a weary smile the healer, set aside the heavy breakfast and chuckled. "Healing is not always wounds. Sometimes my being a person of the spirits is more important than being a person of the herb."

As Arn walked through the dirt and slightly cobbled road seeing the people slowly begin their daily routine, he would see Hod at work in the smithy as he came upon the rough center of a village. The Northern villages were really just a gathering of houses and spaced depending on how close or far apart people wished to live. Garin's hearth was on the edge of the village, the man finding the quiet more to his liking. While the smithy was more center along with Vosker's home, places people were more likely to visit along with the mead hall. As the dawn light rose slightly higher and lit the world, Arn would notice a troubling sight. Having stopped by every other year he would be well aware of a small group of young boys who encouraged trouble where ever it could be found. They were peering around the large mead hall towards the two figures in front of Vosker's house. The man himself was talking with an old woman dressed in all black, and the group of boys were huddled together hurriedly whispering among themselves. The eldest of them was a black-eyed, brown-haired lad with a mean look to him. Wersk was perhaps a year from reaching the age of manhood and his attitude warned that he would be trouble even as he sneered at Arn. "Look, Oskar. It's the bear-man." The words were common enough, but the tone of them implied insult. Taller than the others, Wersk was starting to fill out and his voice was breaking slightly.

The other boy had enough sense to look contrite. Younger than his cousin, Oskar was an avid hunter and the opposite in looks to Wersk with soft brown eyes and blonde hair. "Wersk, Arn's a good hunter and he's helped my pa-"

"If your pa is your pa." Sneered the other boy, Skal. The younger brother to Wersk, who took special glee as Oskar's ears went red. "Face it Oskar-"

The more cunning boy was cut off as Wersk growl. "Shut your mouth, Skal. Ma don't like Yvenna but she's Uncle's wife and Oskar's ma." Despite his own opinions on Yvenna's morals, he wanted Oskar as a friend and not for the other boy to tattle on their tales. "Let's go have some fun away from the monster." He spat as he passed Arn, strutting as though he was already a man. Skal, their younger brother Durin, and a few other boys. Oskar giving the hunter a soft apology as he hurried after his 'friends'. In truth, it was a rumor spoke quietly that only Oskar kept the group from actually turning worse than they were. The ringleaders were the two eldest brothers of Ryska's brood. The large woman made good bread and mead, but the boys were nothing but trouble and her lack of punishment against them only made the village look at her with disapproval. Something Ryska could not stand and so settled with drinking and setting a worse for example to her sons. While Dallen and Frenn did their best, they did have a business to run and Dallen had his own children. It was a situation no one expected to end well.

Across the way from the mead hall where the boys had been spying, the headsman nodded. "Aye, in two days we'll have one trader at least from the South be putting out wares in hopes of trade." Vosker agreed, looking a bit perplexed when the woman said she had no son. Perhaps a daughter? Though it was odd for a woman so old to be traveling alone. "The markets... People gather from smaller villages and farms to trade for what they need or want." Strange indeed she did not know what a market was... "A trading day." He offered the older term that his grandfather had used. But as Mira fed the crow and offered her name, Vosker flinched. A woman of the crow? One of the tricksters and carrion feeders? It was an ill omen after all. His lips thinned but he did not feel it wise to offer his own name or anything not directly asked for. Was she perhaps the cause for ill luck? He would need to speak to Garin about the matter, but when? He had kept the poor wiseman up late the night before with his worries. Would it be too much to ask for another night of the man's time?

Blood's Jewels (High Casual Fantasy Revolution)

@eclecticwitch Giving a slight nudge to remind!

To Claim a Starting World

@Omni5876 You would be right in assuming they have most likely seen him around at least if they haven't outright talked to him. And If you could hold off I hope to have a post up by tomorrow. I've come down with a blistering headache so that has tossed a wrench in my plans, unfortunately.

To Claim a Starting World

I'm putting it here and then if you have any questions I'll edit in anything I missed and toss it in a People of Note (NPC) post in the character tab. I may also add people if I need to note anyone else.

Village of Norn;
Headsman Vosker; A fairly average man in his late thirties. Brown hair and eyes, a rugged face and though he dresses well, he does get his hands dirty with work and hunting. Has a reputation as a fair and competent headsman of the small village. But with such a reputation comes the fact he is often concerned with the future and is often worrying over things.
Yarra; Vosker's wife. A portly woman in her mid-thirties, her hair was blonde but now it turns towards darker colors due to age. Her eyes are tired grey. Mother to four children and wife to the headsman, she is often the woman other women will go to if they are looking for news on the quiet or there is something hush hush going about the village.

Hod; The smith of Norn. He does good work and apprenticed down by the coast when he was a boy but enjoys the quiet life in Norn. he doesn't talk much about his past though many think the tall, bald man with his tattoos was once a raider. Looking to be in his mid-thirties, he is married to Jetamio and they have one young son.
Jetamio; Blonde, blue-eyed and sweet as spring. She is in her early twenties. Her people were from the neighboring village Laettir, there is no secret that the couple tried to live there (Hod leaving Norn to appease Jetamio) before they moved to Norn. Nor that the reason was Jetamio's mother who badgered at Hod until Jetamio-heavily pregnant declared they were leaving and left with only what she could carry. It's a well-told story and often joked upon.
Tholan; Three years old, blond hair and black eyes. He's a bubbly baby and one that Gwendolyn and her father delivered. Born during the spring.

Garin; The wiseman and healer of Norn. He also works as a wiseman for several other smaller villages. Adopted father of Gwendolyn, he named her the uncanny name for a Southern woman he met simply because he liked the sound of it. Not keen on taking charity and serious in his work as the local commune with the spirits, he often finds himself comforting Vosker that everything will sort itself out.

Lutter; A man in his mid-twenties and often drinks. His parents lived in an unhappy marriage til a fire burn down their cottage killing them and Lutter's little sister ten years ago. Since then he took to drinking and hunting to support the habit. He often hangs out with a group of other young men who are locally known 'lay-a-bouts'. Dark brown hair and dark brown eyes as are common in Norn.

Frenn; The man who runs the mead hall. An older man in his late forties. His wife, Iza died over the past winter of old age. He insists he is fine, though he often drinks.
Dallen; Frenn's oldest son who looks like many of the villagers, he is married to Yvenna and helps his father and sister run the mead hall. Well built man in his Early thirties. Though he was known for an even temper it has been getting worse over the years.
Yvenna; The blond-haired siren in her late twenties. Cousin to Jetamio. She is the local flirt and there's an uncomfortable marriage between her and Dallen as many of the men in the village make a pass at the woman. Rumor is that Dallen's children are not his.
Seyja; a young girl of about seven years. Blond hair and brown eyes. Bubbly child.
Gunnar; A burly young boy of nine who is the son of Dallen and Yvenna. Brown hair and eyes and he is large for his age.
Oskar; A boy of about eleven who is the firstborn of Dallen and Yvenna. He has blonde hair and brown eyes and is often slipping away to hunt.
Ryska; Frenn's oldest daughter who returned home when her husband was killed by a bear. Brown hair and eyes, a large woman who is very foul-tempered and often fights with Yvenna. She is in her mid-thirties.
Wersk; Ryska's son. Black of eye and brown of hair. He is close to his mid-teens. He has his mother's temper and is often a bully and encourages Oskar to follow his example along with his brothers.
Skal; Two years younger than Wersk, Skal is brown of hair and eye. He is just as sadistic as his brother though he is far better at hiding it and being charming.
Durin; The third son of Ryska who is about seven. He looks like his brother and often sneaks off to follow them.
Alven; The youngest of Ryska's sons. He is five and was born shortly after his father's death. He is picked on horribly by his brothers and often seeks out Yvenna.

Ottar; Father of Bauld and husband of Drega. Brown hair and eye. He inherited the farm from his father and married Drega. They had another son, but he left to go west and join the raids on the strange Southern. Ottar does not speak of him and his bitterness about it is well known.
Drega; Brown of hair and eye and of average height. She is a cousin of Yarra and a weaver. Very kind woman and stubborn.
Bauld; Young village guard, who works for coin to secretly buy presents for a girl he is sweet on in town.

Kettil; A older man who often traps a line in the area and sells charms come market day. He is well known to Arn for his being a kind man who likes to talk about the hunting and often has jobs for the large man to do in the area. With his head going bald in patches, he is not handsome in the slightest and lives on the edge of Norn.

A giant List of Ideas and Potential Stories [High-Casual to Advance] [18+]

Boop

To Claim a Starting World

Planning on a reply tomorrow or the day after that! I should also have a decent list of general people in the town (tavern owner, headman, smith, etc.).

Blood's Jewels (High Casual Fantasy Revolution)

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Arc I - Terreille in Trouble

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Location: Winton

With the many conversations going on in the small room, Gen was slightly concerned that Sybl would pick up something to report. But the Warlord Prince seemed entirely enthralled by Fatima. Even offering to buy Dareen a dress, something the Eyrien suspected was most likely not appreciated by the warrior witch. Though this Sybl quickly backtracked in making the offer that of a smithy. Oh, that was grand. Put the idea of a sword or some knife in their little Queen's hands. As if she wasn't a handful as it was. Though to be fair, Fatima was an enjoyable handful of a headstrong Queen and she was playing this man like a fiddle.

Looking sideways at his brother, Denvar gave a slight shrug. He could fit in with the populace better while playing the hulking bodyguard. "I will come along, if the Lady doesn't mind the company. My brother ought to stay here and make sure everything remains to the Lady's taste." The Warlord Prince in Denvar snarled at Sybl's bold interest in the tiny Queen. "After all, her will is my life." Words of complete surrender to Fatima that caught the eavesdropping Faeril and Gennar by surprise. Denvar had certainly not felt the pull towards Fatima, but he would embrace her will anyways. But beneath those words was a private challenge and warning to the other Warlord Prince. Fatima's will was his life and if anything funny happen there would be one seriously angry Eyrien to contend with.

Gen shoved off the wall and leaned towards Dareen slightly. "Go with them. Another woman there of your caliber will throw off the town and right now we want that. Jandar hopefully will take the opportunity to join you." The man's tone was low and he shrugged slightly. "We are going to work on finding that devil of a Warlord Prince who we need." He noted absently, not really explaining who the 'we' was. But as he left Dareen in his wake, he nudged Mikhail slightly and gave a slight nod up the stairs. "We ought to get to work on the requirements."

Sybl himself would know of a lovely dress shop, it's owner had done very good business for the Aristocrats. Linda was nothing short of a miracle worker of a tailor with her dresses that echoed the latest fashions she could find, and her shop was filled with the bright light of the day. Excellent for showing off the fine wares. But there was grime in the corners of the windows, her dresses on the floor were just a little bit less exhaulted as they normally were, and Linda herself looked nervously about as she went from gown to gown. It was hardly busy, in fact no one was in the shop. Most of the Aristocrats of Winton had Linda come to them, and it was the good fortune that she was indemand that kept the woman safe. Standing at a respectable height, her curly blond hair was tamed, barely, in a thick plait at the back of her head. A bit of a rounder frame set in a well made and worn blue dress matched her cheerful face that held a bit of worry. If the group travelled there, the woman looked up sharply. Startled by the sudden appearance of actual customers in her shop. "Well, now. Prince Sybl... You've brought some guests. What can I help you with?" The woman's accent was thick as she dipped a slight curtsy. "I've just got some lovely new fabric in..." She offered.

To Claim a Starting World

@Omni5876 I can create a rough list of characters about the town and such beside the generic that I flesh out as you interact with them. It will take some time, however. A day or two is my guess and I may add to it.

To Claim a Starting World

@Cyrania Not a problem, but read thoroughly. It's why I suggested reading throughly. After all its been 12 days since Luther was attacked. The wiseman/ your father is supposed to have a reply for the chief in 2 days.

To Claim a Starting World

@Omni5876 If you aren't sure? Ask. That would be the best advice I can give. As for how much freedom you have with NPCs and the world, you'd be generally alright but the one thing I would ask a GM would that if you do need something more than a generic conversation with a NPC or need a description of an area just shoot me a @ or a PM and we can collaborate on it. Just so people aren't Roleplaying with themselves. I'm usually on RPG every day and even if I don't reply I have seen what questions people ask. I may just be thinking hard on it is all. After all, I'd rather give a thorough answer than a half-baked one.