Location: Pathway leading to Thorbrand's encampment.
The hunter's pace never wavered below his initial baseline as he footed down the path steadily and progressively. The sun was already below it's peak of the day, passing past mid day and into dusk. Constant tracking of the path from afar allowed him to stay aware of his initial surroundings as they came to him. Quiet wisps and whispers followed his footsteps; constantly alarming Skrauti as he strutted. "They wouldn't attack me at night...even if I was alone. It's strange though...nobody has crossed me along this path...only beyond me. Perhaps I am following bandits. But I don't think so. No Corpses or signs of fighting." Skrauti munched on some jerky as he continued his path, sustaining his energy encase further travel is required. If they decided to make camp along the road, he would encounter them eventually. So he didn't stop. The sun continued to fall, darkening the trees and testing the eyesight. A shrewd image of the sky was visible through the mesh of trees and coating of clouds. "No stars or moon tonight. The beasts are well hid. They have the environment on their side. Damned Dire! They all deserve to have their flesh flayed." "!" "Stop! Men. Torches. Patrols. Twenty meters. Encampments of soldiers? No wagon...at least not in my sights. Wisps and whispers... Whispers...whispers...!" Skrauti turned around to check the whispers his ears had been telling him all day. Although his senses told him something, he certainly didn't expect this. Beyond the bark and darkness that surrounded his eyes, he saw something he had not seen in twenty six years; the eyes of a hobgoblin. Skrauti stood twenty meters away from the red eyes. They seemed to glow as they pierced into his cornea. For one second...time stood still. "F*CK! DIE YOU GODDAMN CRETIN! NO! I WILL NOT FALL TO THE LIKES OF YOU!!!" One quick dash through the brush pushed Skrauti through to the camps he just observed. Barrels fell all around, spewing pitch and oil with each rupture. Screams. Flames. Fire spreading...old memories recycling in his mind. A twisted grimace fell upon Skrauti's face as he hurled is javelin violently into a gathering of foes, killing one. A drawing of his sword followed immediately after his throw; fighting the ones alive to recover his weapon. One slash across the eyes and a chop across another's chest allowed access to his weapon; securing two kills in the process. A combination of finesse and savagery pulsed through Skrauti whilst he fought back the hobgoblins. Injuring, killing and executing flowed so naturally within his being. Stabs and throws created constant movement throughout his fight, revolving his style around his trident and sword. The flames danced all among the new found battleground. Bloodcurdling screams erupted from the men who died and shrieks of agony from the hobgoblins that were slain. Skrauti did his best to gather the ones who were alive and command them while fighting the enemy force; knowing they wouldn't trust him. A combat trance fell over the hunter as he entered the fray...
"NO REMORSE FOR THOSE THAT DO NOT FEEL! FALL TO ME YOU BASTARDIZED DEMONS!"
Skrauti had kept track of the small caravan for a few hours now, watching it pass mid hunt. Luck was on his side as they walked right past him. Deciding that time should fall before approach, and that food was more important, he finished his hunt for a deer. Snares set the day before did the job, as expected. A small pit of berries laced with rope slung one up quickly. Upon discovery, Skrauti slit it's throat to bleed it, then skinned it for the meat to be prepped for cooking. A small fire was compiled of some pitch and scrapped tree branches and the meat was cooked. A fine meal of venison and berries ensured that he was well fed. Wondering what to do next, Skrauti loaded his pipe with some dry tobacco. A few puffs to bring a moments peace; he always cherished these moments. Several minutes pass before Skrauti realized that he was becoming to relaxed. "Time to get moving again. I highly doubt they caught on to me...I wonder where they are going. Perhaps they know the best route to Ballara." Skrauti took one last drag off of his tobacco pipe before wrapping it up and storing it. "I miss her" he tells himself, holding the tattered piece of cloth that was his wife's shirt; now but a mere casing for consumables. He walked swiftly closer to the pathway that leads to Skagastrond, wanting to avoid leaving a trail behind himself. He watched studiously ahead of the path, making sure he can confirm tracks in the mud. Small hares and foliage dominated the environment around him. "About eight individuals on horseback. Four on foot. One wagon at least. I wonder...perhaps traders. The possibility of a guide being present is high but if they are the wrong individuals, it could be a nasty fight. A difficult one to say the least. I better stay back." The trident doubled as a walking stick, helping Skrauti keep pace. Despite the usual instincts and thoughts that dominated his mind, something didn't feel right. Something ominous pressured Skrauti's body, forwarding his instinct to grip his trident. Seems that his tobacco session did nothing to ease himself. This was a feeling that was undeniable. Skrauti did his best to remain relaxed and alert, half expecting a dire-wolf to spring at him from the brush around him. "Stay focused...you have a duty to fulfill."
I just wanted to state that I am Very new to this site and active RP's like this, and I appreciate all patience and assistance that goes throughout our interactions. Thanking y'all ahead of time
Howdy Folks, I'm Scribble-Naught. Here's my character development and hopefully you all can enjoy it and consider his entry to the story. Message me or post if you have concerns, critique, etc.
-----
Name:Skrauti "Jeager" Niadh
Age:46
Gender: Male
Title/Rank/Occupation:"The Iceborn", Former Warlord, Hunter.
Height-5'10"
Skills/achievements/etc: Master Level Combatant with weapons he has equipped, as well as similar styles. High level Survivalist. Knowledge of hunting tactics (traps, tracking, plant identification, etc.) and medical treatment. High level Leadership skills, as he was a ruler and warlord for nine years. Middle level Guide of Mjors and wild lands. Low level horseback riding and ranged weaponry. Can drink a large amount and remain steady.
Personality/(Dis)likes/hobbies/etc: Skrauti is "tired" in the soul and often seems blank or cold about situations. Stern and direct is usually how he will reply. He will often think carefully before speaking and may act before speaking depending on the situation. However heartless he may seem, he respects many and likes to uphold formality. Skrauti does not like fighting humans, but will not hesitaite once he has deemed the person worthy of fighting or death. Acts like a hardened cowboy, with similar regards to the law. Lawful Neutral. Confident, humble, respectful, introverted and strong on senses of morality. Due to his origin, many view him as savage and fear him or his existence, but this also masks a friendlier, more heartfelt side of Skrauti. Although Skrauti knows of Nordic religion, hold does not hold faith in any of them. Dislikes Dire Creatures and most non-human beings. Also dislikes pointless rudeness, quarrels and disrespect. Skrauti likes the sound of music, often tapping his foot or humming and likes to dance to drums. Skrauti also fancies his pipe tobacco, often having a smoke when he can relax. Enjoys sharpening his sword, training/sparring in hand to hand combat, hunting and carving.
Biography: The region of Mjors is densely populated with threats, deemed too vicious for human populace. Intense environment and even more intense creatures within, and beyond, the mountains have proven throughout history that Mjors is a dangerous land indeed. But decades before our time lay "primal" and "savage" populations of man; revered in what little history remains of them as the greatest and most feared fighters. Creatures and man alike stood incredible opposition in combat when fighting one of these said populations. Small cities, towns, tribes and family clans housed themselves in the areas north/north-east of Morjs, and even had political influence. Skrauti is but a mere decedent of one of these dead tribes... At age four, Skrauti's village was attacked by a large pack of dire wolves and many men fell in defense of his village. His father and warlord of the village, Lofi, was one of the victims of this attack. Skrauti watched his father get ripped by the limbs as dire-wolves consumed him live. In fear, rage, and a little courage, Skrauti grabbed his father's sword and impaled a dire-wolf in the neck; killing it instantly. Tribe fighters defended the boy as he was the bloodline of what they thought of as royalty. They praised him, as he was the youngest to slay a dire-wolf in the whole village. The wolves were repelled by a slim and Pyrrhic victory, and Skrauti was amended. Ever since that day, sunrise and nightfall, Skrauti trained to succeed his father's fame and to become leader of the small town. Skrauti spent his time training in all forms of combat, tactic, survival, enviormental study, political structure and religion known in the area (formally known as Eytt). As a young boy and preteen, Skrauti quickly gained the attention of his peers for excelling on missions, assignments, duties and studies; often exceeding standards and showing extra commitment to learning new things. When Skrauti was sixteen, he was of legal age to be ruled in as warlord of Eytt. It only took two weeks before the tribe spoke together and honored him as leader. Skrauti was born into leadership and fighting. He suited the role perfectly. Skrauti focused on preservation of materials, farming and cleansing the area of dire creatures. Forming militia, posse's, and squadrons whilst expanding the home, Skrauti eventually formed platoons to slay the beasts. He also focused on communication with other populations in the mountains (and maintaining them), and keeping his town positive with culture. Mining was also a minor form of labour available which produced trade and crafting material. An intelligent man and an even better fighter, Skrauti wed a beautiful woman and held the village strongly. Honorable to man and cruel to beast, Skrauti held Eytt for nine years. Skrauti, now twenty five, was at the at the hieght of his rule. But Eytt rests in the lands of wild and turbulent things. The Mudborn that were repelled by man, many years before, fled to the wild ice lands; close to Skrautik's self-proclaimed kingdom. One day it was success and celebration, one night it was terror and destruction. Men cheered and couples danced as hobgoblins emerged through the bushes. The goblins were to win by attrition before the battle even started. Buildings ablaze, streets littered with bodies; Skrauti fell into an intense rage that increased his combat capability immensely. He fought valiantly and bravely but could not stop the warpath of the hobgoblins. Skrauti fled to his home to discover a dead wife and fire all around. Before he fled Eytt, he grabbed a two pieces of his lovers clothing, his bag, his gauntlet and ran without looking back. Their are no known survivors of this battle...only Skrauti. Skrauti traveled, and fought, for three days while falling in and out of rage before finding other humans. As he entered the village and was asked what happened, he collapsed due to rage exhaustion. When he awoke three days later, he immediately fled south west to warn others of this overwhelming force. Many people he met along the way eventually died due to this threat, but he does not know. Skrauti traveled for many moons to reach all the Providences of The Shield lands. Crossing deserts, plains, waters and mountains, Skrauti was in a land he had never known. But he know that it was his duty to warn all of man of what was happening. Some believed him, while others denied him or saw Himself the threat. He even tried to show maps and history of the area to spread the recording of history and knowledge of the Eytt. With little to no yield and no lead, Skrauti began excepting odd jobs and hunting duties to try and survive. Due to his capabilities of hunting dire creatures and combat, Skrauti was given the name "Jeager" (hunter in German) by societies for being the most reliable tradesman; eventually adopting the name himself. Although the work served him well, Skrauti felt lost. Unfit. Many years fell between travelling, working, and drinking his heart away. He decided to go back to the lost and forgotten grounds of Eytt to try and find himself. But he found that he couldn't even cross the river; fearing for what actually lived beyond in a land now regarded as the wild lands. Two decades after the disaster, Skrauti resided in Mjors and trained for one year before getting back on the road. A hardened veteran and forgotten crusader, Skrauti travels to the last region he has to warn...Ballaria.
---Equipment----: --Weapons-- "The Iceborn Gauntlent". Worn on left arm. Combination of a buckler shield and Iron glove that covers forearm. Stained with the blood of fallen beasts and a family heirloom. Hand and a half sword on left hip. This was his fathers sword he used in his youth and throughout training (another heirloom). Three foot blade Two hatchet sized axes mounted on shoulder/backpack straps. Can be thrown. Iron Trident. A special weapon he had crafted for him in his time as warlord. Six feet long --Armor-- Chain mail for chest, covered by dire-wolf hide. Basic stitched leather pants with small animal hides patched on Leather boots with iron shins and toes. A hood is often worn, as well as a bandanna made from a piece of his wife's clothing. --Backpack w/ contents-- Water gourd made of a hallowed goat horn. Self-made survival kit containing two vials of pitch, small knife (3"), bedroll(made of wolf hide), bandages, two loafs of bread, needle and thread, Two Tobacco vials and Pipe wrapped in a shirt. Two vials of a morphine-style herb, fifteen feet of rope, Matches (made using pitch dipped sticks and struck on sharpening stone). Book containing village history, maps and Nordic stories. Sharpening stone
---Other---: Can wear heavy armor and use appropriated equipment. Illiterate in Giant, but can understand certain phrases and a little wording. Suffers from slight PTSD
Howdy Folks, I'm Scribble-Naught. Here's my character development and hopefully you all can enjoy it and consider his entry to the story. Message me or post if you have concerns, critique, etc.
-----
Name:Skrauti "Jeager" Niadh
Age:46
Gender: Male
Title/Rank/Occupation:"The Iceborn", Former Warlord, Hunter.
Height-5'10"
Skills/achievements/etc: Master Level Combatant with weapons he has equipped, as well as similar styles. High level Survivalist. Knowledge of hunting tactics (traps, tracking, plant identification, etc.) and medical treatment. High level Leadership skills, as he was a ruler and warlord for nine years. Middle level Guide of Mjors and wild lands. Low level horseback riding and ranged weaponry. Can drink a large amount and remain steady.
Personality/(Dis)likes/hobbies/etc: Skrauti is "tired" in the soul and often seems blank or cold about situations. Stern and direct is usually how he will reply. He will often think carefully before speaking and may act before speaking depending on the situation. However heartless he may seem, he respects many and likes to uphold formality. Skrauti does not like fighting humans, but will not hesitaite once he has deemed the person worthy of fighting or death. Acts like a hardened cowboy, with similar regards to the law. Lawful Neutral. Confident, humble, respectful, introverted and strong on senses of morality. Due to his origin, many view him as savage and fear him or his existence, but this also masks a friendlier, more heartfelt side of Skrauti. Although Skrauti knows of Nordic religion, hold does not hold faith in any of them. Dislikes Dire Creatures and most non-human beings. Also dislikes pointless rudeness, quarrels and disrespect. Skrauti likes the sound of music, often tapping his foot or humming and likes to dance to drums. Skrauti also fancies his pipe tobacco, often having a smoke when he can relax. Enjoys sharpening his sword, training/sparring in hand to hand combat, hunting and carving.
Biography: The region of Mjors is densely populated with threats, deemed too vicious for human populace. Intense environment and even more intense creatures within, and beyond, the mountains have proven throughout history that Mjors is a dangerous land indeed. But decades before our time lay "primal" and "savage" populations of man; revered in what little history remains of them as the greatest and most feared fighters. Creatures and man alike stood incredible opposition in combat when fighting one of these said populations. Small cities, towns, tribes and family clans housed themselves in the areas north/north-east of Morjs, and even had political influence. Skrauti is but a mere decedent of one of these dead tribes... At age four, Skrauti's village was attacked by a large pack of dire wolves and many men fell in defense of his village. His father and warlord of the village, Lofi, was one of the victims of this attack. Skrauti watched his father get ripped by the limbs as dire-wolves consumed him live. In fear, rage, and a little courage, Skrauti grabbed his father's sword and impaled a dire-wolf in the neck; killing it instantly. Tribe fighters defended the boy as he was the bloodline of what they thought of as royalty. They praised him, as he was the youngest to slay a dire-wolf in the whole village. The wolves were repelled by a slim and Pyrrhic victory, and Skrauti was amended. Ever since that day, sunrise and nightfall, Skrauti trained to succeed his father's fame and to become leader of the small town. Skrauti spent his time training in all forms of combat, tactic, survival, enviormental study, political structure and religion known in the area (formally known as Eytt). As a young boy and preteen, Skrauti quickly gained the attention of his peers for excelling on missions, assignments, duties and studies; often exceeding standards and showing extra commitment to learning new things. When Skrauti was sixteen, he was of legal age to be ruled in as warlord of Eytt. It only took two weeks before the tribe spoke together and honored him as leader. Skrauti was born into leadership and fighting. He suited the role perfectly. Skrauti focused on preservation of materials, farming and cleansing the area of dire creatures. Forming militia, posse's, and squadrons whilst expanding the home, Skrauti eventually formed platoons to slay the beasts. He also focused on communication with other populations in the mountains (and maintaining them), and keeping his town positive with culture. Mining was also a minor form of labour available which produced trade and crafting material. An intelligent man and an even better fighter, Skrauti wed a beautiful woman and held the village strongly. Honorable to man and cruel to beast, Skrauti held Eytt for nine years. Skrauti, now twenty five, was at the at the hieght of his rule. But Eytt rests in the lands of wild and turbulent things. The Mudborn that were repelled by man, many years before, fled to the wild ice lands; close to Skrautik's self-proclaimed kingdom. One day it was success and celebration, one night it was terror and destruction. Men cheered and couples danced as hobgoblins emerged through the bushes. The goblins were to win by attrition before the battle even started. Buildings ablaze, streets littered with bodies; Skrauti fell into an intense rage that increased his combat capability immensely. He fought valiantly and bravely but could not stop the warpath of the hobgoblins. Skrauti fled to his home to discover a dead wife and fire all around. Before he fled Eytt, he grabbed a two pieces of his lovers clothing, his bag, his gauntlet and ran without looking back. Their are no known survivors of this battle...only Skrauti. Skrauti traveled, and fought, for three days while falling in and out of rage before finding other humans. As he entered the village and was asked what happened, he collapsed due to rage exhaustion. When he awoke three days later, he immediately fled south west to warn others of this overwhelming force. Many people he met along the way eventually died due to this threat, but he does not know. Skrauti traveled for many moons to reach all the Providences of The Shield lands. Crossing deserts, plains, waters and mountains, Skrauti was in a land he had never known. But he know that it was his duty to warn all of man of what was happening. Some believed him, while others denied him or saw Himself the threat. He even tried to show maps and history of the area to spread the recording of history and knowledge of the Eytt. With little to no yield and no lead, Skrauti began excepting odd jobs and hunting duties to try and survive. Due to his capabilities of hunting dire creatures and combat, Skrauti was given the name "Jeager" (hunter in German) by societies for being the most reliable tradesman; eventually adopting the name himself. Although the work served him well, Skrauti felt lost. Unfit. Many years fell between travelling, working, and drinking his heart away. He decided to go back to the lost and forgotten grounds of Eytt to try and find himself. But he found that he couldn't even cross the river; fearing for what actually lived beyond in a land now regarded as the wild lands. Two decades after the disaster, Skrauti resided in Mjors and trained for one year before getting back on the road. A hardened veteran and forgotten crusader, Skrauti travels to the last region he has to warn...Ballaria.
---Equipment----: --Weapons-- "The Iceborn Gauntlent". Worn on left arm. Combination of a buckler shield and Iron glove that covers forearm. Stained with the blood of fallen beasts and a family heirloom. Hand and a half sword on left hip. This was his fathers sword he used in his youth and throughout training (another heirloom). Three foot blade Two hatchet sized axes mounted on shoulder/backpack straps. Can be thrown. Iron Trident. A special weapon he had crafted for him in his time as warlord. Six feet long --Armor-- Chain mail for chest, covered by dire-wolf hide. Basic stitched leather pants with small animal hides patched on Leather boots with iron shins and toes. A hood is often worn, as well as a bandanna made from a piece of his wife's clothing. --Backpack w/ contents-- Water gourd made of a hallowed goat horn. Self-made survival kit containing two vials of pitch, small knife (3"), bedroll(made of wolf hide), bandages, two loafs of bread, needle and thread, Two Tobacco vials and Pipe wrapped in a shirt. Two vials of a morphine-style herb, fifteen feet of rope, Matches (made using pitch dipped sticks and struck on sharpening stone). Book containing village history, maps and Nordic stories. Sharpening stone
---Other---: Can wear heavy armor and use appropriated equipment. Illiterate in Giant, but can understand certain phrases and a little wording. Suffers from slight PTSD
Click here and begin writing until your mind is done unwinding. Until the tone set, along with timing. Simple measures for complex things begin finding new routes to continue supplying. The CPU of the PC is often booted to feel free. A free verse in free-verse. What an odd read. Confining...with myself. What do you think? When you think of "Myself"? Atop the shelf or below the mist? Hit and/or miss? Adjective? Description? A new addition to an old edition? I, have ascribed the write in 5 minutes time. For the first time, I, speak to masses unknown. On a stage I provoked, evoking more than what was first told to my sold soul. I like to think im something more than a note, and "these people" don't know. So here I go....
Only here for serious/specific role plays.
I Rap. I game. I have happiness with the love of my life: Queen Stefana.
<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;">Only here for serious/specific role plays.<br>I Rap. I game. I have happiness with the love of my life: Queen Stefana.</div>
Banned
