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Topic: Save the Princess Q and A
Subject: Yup
... with Brandr beside or one step behind him. And that's not due to fear of getting hurt, but because he knows the limits of his armor and way of fighting well enough. The "tin-man" can the heavy blows, but the blonde barbarian will be close by to cover his phancy ass. 
In the probable case that healing is needed, Brandr will do anything he can to let Peter move back do his job.
Traps are someone else's problem. Crow's I'd take it.
Posted on 2010-01-13 at 19:12:08.
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Topic: Save the Princess Q and A
Subject: Post I will
Tomorrow, my time.
As for digging, yeah I dig... the castle. However, although considering digging under the bubble, I would not suggest the road for two reasons. First of all, the roots might reach that far and still block the way. And second, the road, after years and years of use, is without a doubt a lot harder than the ground elsewhere.
Brandr and Peter might break sweat! O.O Sweat and armor... The stink sticking into the metal... Wouldn't be nice around the ladies, now would it? 
Details, details, I know. But I'd suggest we go around to the side and dig where there are no apple trees. If not for any other reason, then just to make Brandr look good.
Posted on 2010-01-12 at 21:35:19.
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Topic: Save the Princess Q and A
Subject: Mock? Me! Nevah!
I would be the last to mock anyone's maps, for mine are simply gross. I am very thankful for having a map, good sir. Thank you very much.  That way I can make some sense out of your directions...
If I keep this going, Brandr won't live through the day...
Posted on 2010-01-11 at 19:28:31.
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Topic: Save the Princess Q and A
Subject: :)
I wasn't sure I could trust the crudely drawn map that much. Or maybe if I had really looked at it instead of glancing, I would've noticed that. Thanks.
Posted on 2010-01-11 at 19:11:24.
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Topic: Save the Princess Q and A
Subject: :D
Didn't you just say it? Or perhaps my eyes just saw what I wanted to see and I just read what I wanted to read. 
Hoo! Simple man with simple methods. Sometimes being a simpleton like me works. Perhaps there is a spot where there aren't so many roots - bloody roots.
Posted on 2010-01-11 at 18:47:37.
Edited on 2010-01-11 at 18:48:37 by Raven
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Topic: Save The Princess, Save The Wyrm
Subject: Hmm..
Some time ago, when he first came to Drannon and Tharbad, Brandr met his current companions and wiped out a lair of greenskins with them. Back then the flood of questions would have taken him totally by surprise. Now - now he'd grown somewhat used to the strange mindset of the Drannese. The Dranns, in the Vidar's opinion, simply spoke too much. They spoke so much, that there seemed to be little time and effort left for thinking. He himself was a man of battle and had been so ever since his father had finally decided to give him a chance and began to train him. But even he would rather use his head dfirst.
The other tall man in the group, Peter, was looking good again. There was no denying it. Though not exactly one women would call ugly himself, even the muscular warrior had to admit, that the priest was a very handsome individual. He was the only one, taking even the syls into account, who bothered to polish his armor every day. Brandr guessed it was mostly due to the man's incredible vanity, but he'd witnessed the effect a knight in shining armor could have on a horde of evil little things like goblins. Weakest of the greenskins had squealed in fear and run away the moment they'd laid their eyes on the follower of the Battle Lord.
Peter was a brave and strong man, both qualities in a man that Brandr respected and wished to have beside in times of trouble. The rest of their companions had proved themselves in battle too. No one was a just hanging along for the show. Certainly he liked some more than others, but none had so far done or said anything that would have angered the ranger. And he was hoping this new adventure, for that's what it very much seemed like, would bring no change to that.
Still silent, the tall warrior danced his way through the hand-waving, babbling crowd to where Derry was talking with the robed lad. The kid had given the mage a bag, which obviously contained valuable, or better yet, useful things. He could get a glimpse of a few jars and potions along with a scroll of paper. He caught something about a spell of magic, which might be useful if they had a sorcerer powerful enough to use it. Apparently Derry was not that man.. or woman.
Letting the conversation continue, the Vidar turned his blond, pony-tailed head at the sphere following it with his eyes first to the right and then left. He looked up and then down, and then turned towards Peter and Derry. "Under. Has anyone tried digging beside it? Maybe it doesn't keep on going too deep into the ground." Not waiting for an answer, Brandr moved his cold, blue and serious gaze to the young local. "Hey mageling, you or any of your friends tried digging? You know where I could get some shovels?"
While he waited for the wizard's apprentice to respond, Brandr caught himself thinking of what he was doing there and then in the village with the other adventurers. Why was he there instead of some other place, some other adventure. Why hadn't he simply tried to find some safe and normal work on a farm or something. Why had he ended up with this lot instead. He wasn't one for glory and fame. No. Brandr Bjornnson wanted anything but attention. He was a solitary soul who was happiest in peaceful woods where he could enjoy the sounds and smells of nature. And he didn't really need money either. It was good to have some to be able to buy a pint of ale or three every now and then, but other than that, he had little use for silver or gold.
Posted on 2010-01-07 at 21:20:53.
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Topic: Save the Princess Q and A
Subject: :)
She's got a purty mouth, ain't she?
I'll hopefully be posting tomorrow if work ain't too bad. As for group hugs, I'm all for one.... or three.
You guys will prolly love Brandr. He's such a sweet soul, with life been kind to him an all.
EDIT: Naah... decided to post today instead.
Posted on 2010-01-07 at 19:46:28.
Edited on 2010-01-07 at 21:21:47 by Raven
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Topic: 1800 By Valentine's Day!
Subject: Yeah
Yes well... As long as you won't buy the one saying you survived a facelick by Eol...
Posted on 2010-01-06 at 18:10:57.
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Topic: Save the Princess Q and A
Subject: Gaah! I've got an itch.
Post people! post! I want to play! It's not like I'm pushing you to post, but I am. I've got an itch to play this game since the last three games I've joined have died after 1 round of posts. (I hope I'm not killing this one too)
Posted on 2010-01-05 at 20:23:54.
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Topic: relics from D&D past
Subject: Whaa?
In Dutch? O.o Coolness!
Yup there are shops on the net selling used Ad&d books and there's a couple at ebay. But more of then than not, the shipping costs are higher than the price of item itself. Then again, I'm not looking for them actively any more. Will buy if I come upon one somewhere some day.
Posted on 2010-01-02 at 20:11:15.
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Topic: relics from D&D past
Subject: Nice
 Good name. English not being our native tongue, a friend of mine used to come up with funny sounding names straight from the dictionary (the rest of us didn't know about it back then). Having studied English for 5 years or so, we knew what some of them meant, but others were just cool.
There were characters like Gall Bladder, Hamb Urger among others I can no longer remember.
I never had the 1st edition books back then, just very illegal copies from a friend. Did buy all I could later though, but I'm still missing the printed versions of Fiend Folio (you know the one with a Githyanki on cover) and Legends and Lore. Will probably never get them though. Though I'm considering of buying them through ebay...
Posted on 2010-01-02 at 19:32:17.
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Topic: Well Met!
Subject: Hiya
Welcome to the inn !
No need to be ashamed of your age, there's more than a few of us old and beautiful in here.
Oh and personal protection against face licking can also be provided by us Senior Staff members, but we're sort of costly. So my advice would be just to hold your breath, suck it up and live through the experience. It won't kill you even if it's not exactly... well.. pleasant.
Oh, and don't feed the Grugg.
Posted on 2010-01-02 at 14:26:38.
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Topic: Save The Princess, Save The Wyrm
Subject: Tireh, oh so tired
It had begun like a good night's sleep would, but sure didn't end like one. Not one to sleep late on a usual day, Brandr had been looking forward to spending the night in a proper bed from the moment they'd heard of Argent from the merchant. The big, blonde man didn't exactly love riding. Sure, horses were nice, but he preferred them on his plate - roasted and with some salt, thank you very much. No. Brandr Bjornsson wasn't a rider, he was a runner. But even he had to admit being on horseback got him further and with less sweat. Not that sweating mattered. He was a warrior, not a dandy.
But now morning had come too early with the trembling of the ground and the noise. Before he had time to think, Brandr had jumped on the floor stark naked and with Kaeltflamm in his hand only to hit his head hard on a roof beam. Mouthing ancient Vidarak curses he looked out through the window, but finding no imminent threat decided to dress up before heading outside.
Brandr wasn't the first of their little group to arrive, but neither was he the last. With a quiet nod of greeting to his comrades, he's attention was quickly drawn by the red glow and the smoke in the east. The huge barbarian had gotten out on the inn's front yard just in time to catch the last words of the keeper: "… that's the King's castle!" Though the small man was quite serious and obviously very anxious about the current situation, Brandr still found the words funny. They were in the mighty (at least according to the locals) empire of Drannon, which was ruled by the powerful and wise Emperor. And yet the local lord was calling himself the King.
During his short stay in the country, the Vidar had learned that the Drannese were quite unlike his own people in many other ways than just their outlook. Although boasting about one's prowess in combat or hunting skills was not unheard of in the Vidarak culture either, the people of Drannon had turned exaggeration into an art. The whole kingdom thing of Argentia was a fine example of the delusions of grandeur some Drann seemed to have. Back home such a person flying high in the sky of his illusions would quickly be shot down by his fellow Vidarak.
Yet, here they were, visitors in the town of the Argentian king, no matter if the man had the Emperor's blessing or not. And more than mere visitors, Brandr and his companions were a group of people looking for adventure. And sure enough, the morning had brought the scent of an adventure in its wake. Theirs was a strange lot, especially so for the tall ranger. He'd never met as many Sylvari in his life as there now were at his side. There was also a healer quite unlike the ones he'd come to know in his youth - the man was clad in full metal body armor and liked charging into melee like a warrior. In addition there was a maegi, whom Brandr had difficulties trusting, fortunately he was a human like himself. Last, and perhaps least in the way of combat was a singer, whom the Vidar held in esteem for other purposes than his ability to cut down goblins. The man reminded him of the singers of his own people, who were the keepers of Vidar history and lore.
Still donning his armor, Brandr Bjornsson watched two of his companions rush to the stables and ride out towards the red glow. Shaking his ponytailed head with a smile, the powerfully muscular man threw his sword belt over his head, grabbed his sack and headed towards the stable. The sleep completely gone now, he was ready for anything that might be waiting for them at the "castle".
… Anything but the thing that was waiting. There was a crimson dome covering the largest building in the town. There was no apparent entry to the castle through the shimmering, transparent wall - it seemed very much impenetrable. Noctus and Derry had already arrived at the scene and the Syl was addressing the crowd while the magic-user was chatting with a lad wearing robes.
Brandr dismounted slowly all the while observing the situation and decided to wait and see what the Syl and the maegi managed to find out.
Posted on 2009-12-30 at 22:36:46.
Edited on 2009-12-30 at 22:37:32 by Raven
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Topic: Merry Christmas!
Subject: Yup
Have a lovely X-mas everyone even if you're not celebrating it!
Oh and Meri, one X never gets you anywhere...
Posted on 2009-12-24 at 19:41:08.
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Topic: Save The Princess recruitment
Subject: Little star
So since my character is marked with an asterisk, I take it that you'd like me to send over a more detailed sheet?
How did the one I had for Kilgim look? Did it open up ok or was it somehow messy? I'd be using one of those if that's ok.
Posted on 2009-12-21 at 07:24:40.
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Topic: Save The Princess recruitment
Subject: Hah
The old geezer won't give up his lead position easily will he? Olan and Brom are getting too close it seems.
Posted on 2009-12-20 at 06:58:01.
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Topic: Save The Princess recruitment
Subject: yeah
I agree. Quite a mix of characters indeed. Should be loads of fun.
Oh and Alacrity, put a viking the place of that ranger...
Posted on 2009-12-15 at 21:42:01.
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Topic: Gamer Stigma
Subject: :)
56 RPG books? Not bad, not bad. I'd better not count my own. Would only end up calculating how much money I've spent on them and that would not be nice.  And I'd have to bring two boxes back inside from the storage shed.
But then again, I'm old...
Posted on 2009-12-15 at 10:53:21.
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Topic: Save The Princess recruitment
Subject: Hell yeah
Ah missed that part earlier on. Nice going DB! A tank indeed.
Posted on 2009-12-14 at 19:55:27.
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Topic: Save The Princess recruitment
Subject: Whaa?
Now where did all the rogues run into? They lurking in the shadows? I now Brandr can be fairly intimidating, but come on, the DM said we need a thief.
Hmm... Fighter type is a good description. We'll be in helluva trouble though since neither of our light armor wearing fighters can really take blows.
Clerics can wear plate, right?
Posted on 2009-12-14 at 19:13:59.
Edited on 2009-12-14 at 19:28:50 by Raven
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Topic: Save The Princess recruitment
Subject: Ranger
I had a change of hearts and decided to create a Vidarak ranger instead. If accepted, I'll be using a character from an earlier Audalis game, which never really took of.
Meet Brandr Bjornsson
Posted on 2009-12-13 at 20:55:57.
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Topic: Not Really a Game, But...it COULD Be
Subject: Brandr Bjornsson
A young boy of 9 walked through the kylen on the rainy afternoon. He had chosen his route beforehand, carefully planning it in his mind. So far it had been easy moving between the houses of his two uncles and his father’s best friend Olav. The dangerous part was now beginning. There was no way he could go around the Medpunkten, the large open square marking the central point of Whitewolf village, without passing either the home of Hildir or Egill, his main enemies.
Creeping in the shadows, the small-sized son of a Vidarak warrior was almost past the danger zone, when he heard a familiar voice from behind him. “If it ain’t Brandr, the li’le, skinny mommy’s boy. What’re ye doin’ skulkin’ behind me house? Spyin’ ain’t ye? Me’ll hav’ta teach ye a lesson. Let’s get’im boys!”
Brandr ran. He ran as fast as his weak, thin legs could carry him. But the big strong boys soon caught up with him. Then it started as it always did, with pushing and spitting. Next someone came up with a great idea of throwing mud and stones at him. And finally Hildir and Egill gave Brandr what they called, “the special treatment for special boys”.
As he limped back home, Brandr Bjornsson didn’t cry. He was still a vidarak and vidaraks don’t cry. Lheisa, the boy’s mother cried for him, cried like she always did. But there was no sympathy from Bjorn, his father. The powerful warrior was disappointed at his son, a weakling who was not formed like a man of war should. Again, like so often he wondered aloud whether the boy would or even should ever see his 16th birthday.
The home village of the vidarak clan Whitewolf or Vhitwarg, was not an easy place to live in. It sat on the shores of the Antarian Reach some 250 miles north from the mighty (and only) city of the vidarak people, Dun Kav’r.
Whitewolf was neither the strongest nor the weakest of the vidarak tribes. Its men were known for their skills of sailing and fishing, and they were regarded as dangerous warriors by the other clans. Had their village been located on more favorable lands, the Whitewolf might well have been the largest and most powerful of all vidarak people.
Some 26 years ago a white-haired son was born to Bjorn Einarsson and his wife Lheisa. The warrior had captured the beautiful dark woman on a raid to Sendria some three years earlier. It was not totally unheard of amongst the Whitewolves take wives from foreign lands, but the outsider was at first treated as scum. When Bjorn announced he would marry Lheisa, the attitudes changed. Along the years, the fear and hatred turned into affection and Lheisa learned to love his faithful and caring husband.
From birth it was obvious the boy would not be like the others in the village. He was small, skinny and did not eat well. The signs proved right, for at 11 and only a year before Jür Kaelth, the rite of passage he was nearly 10 inches shorter and 30 pounds lighter than other boys of his age. Certainly not all the vidarak boys were big and strong, but compared to the others, Brandr Bjornsson was different, a freak even.
During the years it had become obvious the boy was far too weak and small to become a true warrior. Gods would not bless Bjorn Einarsson with another son it seemed, so he would not give up on his son. There was another path of honor amongst the vidarak. A young man with a good memory and some sense in his head could strive to become an Itiirdek or a lawkeeper for his people.
Though the boy certainly was intelligent enough to learn all the laws and traditions by heart, he was not interested in reciting the written words for the rest of his life. He simply found it boring. In an early stage the boy learned a valuable thing about himself: Since he couldn't fight someone over something he wanted, and he had no gold of his own, he had to find other means of acquiring things.
Sometimes, as Brandr came to see, the small size could be an advantage. For years now, he had been avoiding people as much as he could – especially children of his own age. Though not the most dexterous of all people, it was not overly difficult for him to stay out of the sight of other kids.
During time, the small boy came to believe in his skills. He considered himself to be good in sneaking around unnoticed. He hated having to wait for leftovers or beg for his father to get him something he wanted, so Brandr decided to use his skills and began to steal instead. Being mostly treated like an animal anyway he had no moral quarrels over it. Since thieving was unheard of amongst the vidarak, no one would even worry about the safety of his or her belongings. Therefore the secret choice of careers seemed promising from the start.
The Whitewolf kylen was too small a place for him to go on for a long time before being caught. But luckily his father took the boy with him to Dun Kav'r once in a while to learn the customs of the only city of the vidarak as well. When Bjorn was getting drunk or doing business, the kid roamed around the huge place on his own. He stole only small things, which he could hide from the observant eyes of his father. Some he sold to other people to make money, while others he kept as his treasures.
The inevitable thing happened three months before Brandr was supposed to have his Jür Kaelth. The illusion he had of his skills was blown when he made the mistake of stealing from an honored clan member, in fact the tribe’s leader Grundir Snorrisson. As Brandr was sneaking away from the leader's house, Grundir's daughter saw him and the arm bracelet he had stolen. At first the girl didn't seem to understand what was going on, but then as Brandr smiled sadly and tried to offer the bracelet back, she screamed for help.
Had the boy been a man, Grundir would have challenged him into a duel. Being but a boy, Brandr was spared from such fate. According to Thorgrim Fjärnsson, the current itiirdek, the law required the boy to be banished from the kylen and branded for what he had done. As was the tradition among the Whitewolves, the offended Grundir Snorrisson was allowed to decide how the boy was to be branded. As an ironic solution, he decided that Brandr's wrist would be burned with the same bracelet he was trying to steal. And so he was. The bracelet has heated until it glowed red and then squeezed around the boy's arm. The pain was too much for the frail Brandr to bear and he passed out, perhaps luckily.
As the fever finally broke and he woke up two days later, the banished boy was lying on a litter pulled by his mother. The whole family had left the village on the very same evening, for the shame had been too much for Bjorn’s honor. Years ago Lheisa had slowly been accepted as a part of the Whitewolf community. But now as his son had been declared a non-person in the eyes of his tribe, the mother suddenly became a foreign whore again.
For two weeks they traveled looking for a good place to survive the last month of the harsh winter and perhaps later to build a cabin too. During the two weeks Bjorn spoke nothing to either his wife or his accursed son. When they finally found a spot on a sheltered cliff suitable for their needs, the family set up a camp and prepared to live their lives on their own. Lheisa begged and begged for Bjorn to speak and to comfort his son, but the vidarak warrior only glared at Brandr with hatred filled eyes.
After two days, the father had made his decision. He could not stand the shame any longer and would throw his son off the cliffs to the whales and the sharks. Brandr was not good enough to be his son, Bjorn believed. Only the love for his wife stopped the warrior from doing the terrible deed. Again Lheisa cried and begged. And this time she threatened to kill herself too, should the stubborn warrior carry out his intentions. Bjorn gave in. But he gave Brandr only one chance to redeem his life. The father would hold a Jür Kaelth for his son and Brandr could not fail.
Brandr survived the task. He managed to kill a deer with nothing but an axe and a knife using the stealth he learned while stealing things. He was able to surprise a young sleeping deer and wound it badly enough for it to bleed to death after a couple of miles of running. Reading the signs of animals moving in the wilderness came easily to Brandr. Hunting was an integral part of a vidarak society and though not physically fit to hunt big game, the boy had played catch with smaller animals like rats and mice.
Bjorn was not overly satisfied, but a deer was a deer whether it was a young one or not. Brandr was to be a vidarak warrior even if he could never return to his own kind again. The father decided to start strengthening the boy by giving him cruel tasks and putting him through ruthless physical exercises. He forced the lad to eat plenty of meat and fish and to train for many hours every day.
During the months Brandr trained, Bjorn forged a beautiful sword for the boy. It had long, slim blade, almost like the sylvari blades of Londelirinen, very different from the broad blades commonly used by the Whitewolves. However the weapon was fairly heavy and too much so for the weak boy to wield properly. But every day he was forced to lift and swing the sword a hundred times until he was strong enough to use it.
Month by month and year by year, the boy grew taller and got stronger, until at 17 he was nearly as big as his father. All the exercises had built up the formerly skinny boy’s muscles and he was finally able to swing the Kaeltflämm or Cold Flame, as his father had named the sword, without effort.
Bad that was not the end of it, but a beginning of a completely new season of training. Bjorn Einarsson, like his father and grandfather before him, was specialized in using two weapons simultaneously – a sword and an axe. Therefore, to uphold the tradition, Brandr had to learn two-weapon fighting as well.
By then Brandr had learned to enjoy the exertion and trained even when his father didn't tell him to. He hacked trees down with his axe, chopped them into pieces and carried the firewood to the cabin he had helped Bjorn build all those years ago. He trained attacks and defenses with his sword like his father had shown him to.
The old warrior gladly taught his son everything he knew, but he never forgave Brandr the crime, which turned their lives upside down. Then, as the young man turned 18, his father did something unexpected and challenged his own son to a duel. Since they weren't part of their former clan anymore, the fight wasn’t limited to first blood and Bjorn ruled it to be to death. Lheisa begged and begged again, but this time in vain.
The duel was fought. The father was still stronger, but the Brandr was faster and their skills were almost evenly matched. For a long while they merely tested each other's skills before suddenly Bjorn launched a furious attack at his son. He managed to cut the young man’s arm and forehead, leaving blood flowing freely. But Brandr would not give in. He doubled his efforts and finally managed to strike away the sword from his father's hands. He could have killed Bjorn then, but didn't want to. The old man was still his father and despite all of their hardships and differences, Brandr still loved him.
Begging for forgiveness Brandr handed his axe to his father and fell to his knees waiting for judgment. Tears in his eyes Bjorn let the axe drop to the ground and embraced his son. "Truly you are a man now, my son. A true vidarak no matter what the scar on your forearm says."
But after the duel Brandr couldn’t stay home anymore. He felt he needed to see the world, so he left his parents carrying the Kaeltflämm and axe of his father as well. The young man swore to return every year to see his mother and father, and he did until Bjorn died of old age some two years ago. Brandr took his mother with him away from the lonely cliffside and together they sailed with Bjorn’s old fishing boat to the mighty and far city of Bayris.
There the young warrior did work as a bodyguard, fisherman and anything else he could find to provide for his mother for two years, until the frail woman died of some unknown disease. Brandr felt totally helpless and guilty for not being able to help her, and in anger left the mighty city behind and headed back for the wilderness of the Reach.
For months the warrior wandered alone and without a goal. He fought beasts and animals and killed men and orcs alike. Until one day he came upon a great brown bear attacking a family of three on a small clearing near a small mountain. The humans were clearly fellow vidarak, though of a different tribe – The Tribe of the Black Bear, Svärtabjorn.
The mother was already down, with her head nearly torn off her shoulders by a mighty paw, and the father was wounded as well. Brandr knew he could not make it in time to save the man, but he might have a chance to protect the child.
It was not the first time the blond warrior fought a bear, but this one was definitely the biggest he had ever seen, a mighty grizzle indeed. Not being the tallest of vidaraks and certainly not the strongest, Brandr had doubts of his chances of survival. But he was an honorable warrior and the laws of the vidarak were written on his heart. As was their way, the stronger must protect the weaker, even if it would mean giving up their lives.
Therefore, though still some twenty yards away, he let out a mighty roar and charged at the bear. Luckily for Brandr the creature was already wounded, but it was far from dead and the pain seemed to only make it even more furious. The grizzly swung its great paw and its bloody claws nealy ripped off the top half of the father. It then turned around to face the fresh enemy…
The battle did not last long, but it felt like an eternity to Brandr. And as he lay on his back on the steaming, red snow breathing shallowly, the dying warrior felt no pain. He watched the darkening sky filled with bright stars and felt only content. His part in life had been fulfilled. The gods would accept him now as a true vidarak. He would find peace and paradise in the Afterworld.
But the time of Brandr Bjornsson had not yet come. Just as the last dying breath was leaving his torn body, an old, wizened face filled his clouded field of vision. There was a warm smile on the withered lips and he could see they were moving though no words reached his ears. Is this how it goes? Does Världfader come to save my soul?
As he woke up, Brandr was lying on a hide of a graying bear. He was in pain, but managed to push himself up enough to view the surroundings. It was not Valhöll and the old man was not Earth Father. He was not dead, but somehow still alive and breathing. It was all he could see or do before passing out again.
As he later found out, his savior was an ancient shaman of the Blackbear tribe ironically known only as Grizzle. The hermit was a powerful priest of the Varigads and a former leader the tribe, who lived in a cave of a long-dead grizzly bear.
The shaman had heard the familiar cries of agony of both the man and the bear, and had come to see the outcome of the battle. It was the final test of manhood of the Svärtäbjorn to kill a bear and the shaman had expected to find one of the warriors of his own tribe, not a Whitewolf.
Nevertheless, Brandr had acted like a true warrior and saved the life of the child, for as he was dying, so was the grizzly. Therefore, the priest had honored the young warrior and stopped his bleeding with the magical powers of the Gods of War.
Brandr’s recuperation took the better part of fourteen days. And he spent the days speaking with to the old shaman and listening to his wisdom. Brandr shared his own past with Grizzle, and with downcast eyes admitted his crimes. There was no need to tell the wise man, that he was no longer welcome to live with his own people, for the laws were mostly the same amongst both tribes.
Posted on 2009-12-13 at 20:50:23.
Edited on 2009-12-13 at 21:00:57 by Raven
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Topic: Save The Princess recruitment
Subject: True true
Yup, figured it would. I was thinking of a banished young man, who'd done the unthinkable and killed a fellow Gil. Of course that would have an effect on how he views the world. Such a banishment would be a terrible blow on his honor of course and he might not care too much for his life having already lost everything dear to him.
Or.. he could believe he'd been done wrong - the kill having been "justified" or accidental. It might have had a terrible blow on all his beliefs and he'd begun to question other rules or laws of the Gil society. Perhaps he has a great hunger to learn everything he can of the "outside" world and no loner has the wish to throw himself mindlessly into combat.
As to why the Gil would be in Drannon... That's a tougher one.
If you'd rather not have one, I'll create a Vidarak instead. No problem there.
Posted on 2009-12-13 at 17:07:14.
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Topic: Save The Princess recruitment
Subject: Or then again
A Gil warrior would be very interesting to play as well. Short-lived most likely, but interesting nevertheless. That is, if you'd allow playing a Gilskalos in your game, taking into account the special weapons they have. On the other hand the armor restriction will even up the score pretty well.
Posted on 2009-12-13 at 11:39:14.
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Topic: Save The Princess recruitment
Subject: Vidarak
Not where it's supposed to be. I'll need to fix that tomorrow.
Here you go: http://www.rdinn.net/audalis/236/the_artarian_reach.html
Posted on 2009-12-12 at 21:59:55.
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