Trollbabe
First Post
[sblock=OOC]Our story starts in Daneland. Daneland is part of the main continent of Mannheim. Its boarders are made up of the Eastern Mountains, the Keltish Forests to the far West, the Aeir Sea to the North and the Aramith Empire to the South. Think of Aramith as an early Rome.
Your characters are here in Daneland to join the raiding parties of King Avildar. The raiders travel South into the rich Aramith Empire. Although in your character descriptions some of you expanded on why you would join Rothgar's cause assume that you know nothing of the troubles in his lands yet. Keeping that in mind let us begin our tale.[/sblock]
The River Tholta twists its way south like a great serpent through the heart of Daneland. Its banks are home to many settlements both permanent and temporary. It is the month of the third moon and cold winds blow across the hills of Daneland. Spring is near, but the last signs of winter struggle to remain.
As sunlight begins to peak over the Eastern Mountains its light reflects off the Tholta and the northmen of King Avildar’s encampment begin to stir. This is a raiding camp and soon its drakkars (long ships) will travel south down the Tholta. Slave women of mixed ethnicity collect fresh water and stoke fires that are now mere embers.
In the night a new drakkar has arrived and it rocks in the surf of the river’s edge. The sail is white with two black ravens embroidered on it. A young boy stands on the bow. His blonde hair shines in the morning light and he is the perfect example of an early teen. There are no mists this morning, but out of politeness he stands in plain view of the settlement. He will remain this way for the length of the morning so that he shows he is no threat and to honour King Avildar.
Eight large tents make up the camp of King Avildar. His red banners flutter in the morning wind as his warriors shake off their mead induced slumber. You find yourself here for your own reasons as you stretch to stave off the morning stiffness. You have woke in the King’s tent and slave women pass wooden bowls filled with cold water to freshen. Many lay sleeping about the crowded tent, furs conceal naked forms and low tables are cluttered with half eaten game and tipped mead mugs.
A herald to Avildar enters the tent and makes his way to the still sleeping King. He wakes a slave girl who lies with his lord and has her whisper to arouse her master. Avildar groans and sits up rubbing himself; “What is it Glorfin why do you rouse me so?”
Glorfin (herald) replies: “A ship my lord arrived in the night… it bears the mark of two black ravens. Shall I welcome it?”
Avildar stands being careful not to disturb the trio of slave women whom slumber with him. “Welcome our guests… and bring their voice to my tent.” He wraps a large bear fur about his body and sits upon a stone chair at the head of the tent. As Glorfin departs Avildar dips his hands into a water bowl and splashes the cool liquid over his face.
It is not long before Glorfin the herald returns with the young boy. The boy presents himself to Avildar and kneels before him. “Glory to thee King Avildar, I am Wulfgar son of King Rothgar I seek your aid for my father. An evil of old has returned to my father’s lands... the Black Mist has come!”
Avildar does not take this news lightly and his eyes open wide at the young boys words. “Wulfgar, your father’s lands are far to the north of Daneland and my warriors prepare to move south. I believe you have braved many dangers to reach me… have you asked others to help your father’s plight?”
The young boy appears disappointed and nods. “But none have agreed to return with me…”
Avildar frowns and looks about his tent. “Although I can not aid young Wulfgar are there any among you who might heed his call? Surely, there are those of you who would travel to the Northlands and greet the maidens of Valhalla?”
Your characters are here in Daneland to join the raiding parties of King Avildar. The raiders travel South into the rich Aramith Empire. Although in your character descriptions some of you expanded on why you would join Rothgar's cause assume that you know nothing of the troubles in his lands yet. Keeping that in mind let us begin our tale.[/sblock]
The River Tholta twists its way south like a great serpent through the heart of Daneland. Its banks are home to many settlements both permanent and temporary. It is the month of the third moon and cold winds blow across the hills of Daneland. Spring is near, but the last signs of winter struggle to remain.
As sunlight begins to peak over the Eastern Mountains its light reflects off the Tholta and the northmen of King Avildar’s encampment begin to stir. This is a raiding camp and soon its drakkars (long ships) will travel south down the Tholta. Slave women of mixed ethnicity collect fresh water and stoke fires that are now mere embers.
In the night a new drakkar has arrived and it rocks in the surf of the river’s edge. The sail is white with two black ravens embroidered on it. A young boy stands on the bow. His blonde hair shines in the morning light and he is the perfect example of an early teen. There are no mists this morning, but out of politeness he stands in plain view of the settlement. He will remain this way for the length of the morning so that he shows he is no threat and to honour King Avildar.
Eight large tents make up the camp of King Avildar. His red banners flutter in the morning wind as his warriors shake off their mead induced slumber. You find yourself here for your own reasons as you stretch to stave off the morning stiffness. You have woke in the King’s tent and slave women pass wooden bowls filled with cold water to freshen. Many lay sleeping about the crowded tent, furs conceal naked forms and low tables are cluttered with half eaten game and tipped mead mugs.
A herald to Avildar enters the tent and makes his way to the still sleeping King. He wakes a slave girl who lies with his lord and has her whisper to arouse her master. Avildar groans and sits up rubbing himself; “What is it Glorfin why do you rouse me so?”
Glorfin (herald) replies: “A ship my lord arrived in the night… it bears the mark of two black ravens. Shall I welcome it?”
Avildar stands being careful not to disturb the trio of slave women whom slumber with him. “Welcome our guests… and bring their voice to my tent.” He wraps a large bear fur about his body and sits upon a stone chair at the head of the tent. As Glorfin departs Avildar dips his hands into a water bowl and splashes the cool liquid over his face.
It is not long before Glorfin the herald returns with the young boy. The boy presents himself to Avildar and kneels before him. “Glory to thee King Avildar, I am Wulfgar son of King Rothgar I seek your aid for my father. An evil of old has returned to my father’s lands... the Black Mist has come!”
Avildar does not take this news lightly and his eyes open wide at the young boys words. “Wulfgar, your father’s lands are far to the north of Daneland and my warriors prepare to move south. I believe you have braved many dangers to reach me… have you asked others to help your father’s plight?”
The young boy appears disappointed and nods. “But none have agreed to return with me…”
Avildar frowns and looks about his tent. “Although I can not aid young Wulfgar are there any among you who might heed his call? Surely, there are those of you who would travel to the Northlands and greet the maidens of Valhalla?”
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