Member
Arthanus
Quest Abandoner
Bastian
Apollosarcher
ASDAValueMilk
Knight 7
sly13
Bartimaeus
Still solidly built, he's none the less starting to show his age; a bit softer around the middle, grey hairs here and there, evey year a few more wrinkles. He hears other bemoan the fact that they're getting older, but to him they are things worth cherishing as it means he's still alive.
His body is a patchwork of tattoos and scars collected from a lifetime of fighting. Runes of protection, strength and health adorn his arms and torso, while ones of endurance, way-finding and peace cover his legs; behind his right ear, and now lost in his still thick, but greying, hair he has an intertwined rune of wisdom and knowledge. His hand, both backs and palms, have ones of power, strength and magic.
-
Of the numerous scars, there are only two are of note. The most noticeable, across his left eye, was as the result of a foolish boast as a young and hot-headed warrior; in his arrogance he thought he could beat any man and so challenged a Jarl for the right to rule, a rather foolish endeavour as it turned out.
His lower left leg has a sizable bite mark from a bear baiting match that went wrong; he was fortunate others acted fast enough to drive the animal off before it could do more serious harm.
His body is a patchwork of tattoos and scars collected from a lifetime of fighting. Runes of protection, strength and health adorn his arms and torso, while ones of endurance, way-finding and peace cover his legs; behind his right ear, and now lost in his still thick, but greying, hair he has an intertwined rune of wisdom and knowledge. His hand, both backs and palms, have ones of power, strength and magic.
-
Of the numerous scars, there are only two are of note. The most noticeable, across his left eye, was as the result of a foolish boast as a young and hot-headed warrior; in his arrogance he thought he could beat any man and so challenged a Jarl for the right to rule, a rather foolish endeavour as it turned out.
His lower left leg has a sizable bite mark from a bear baiting match that went wrong; he was fortunate others acted fast enough to drive the animal off before it could do more serious harm.
"Beware of the old man in a vocation where most men die young."
Menddir Sohrersson
Male
54
Human
Iron Mage
The Northlander term for what most would call a 'Spellsword'
The Northlander term for what most would call a 'Spellsword'
The common view of Northlanders is that of a gruff and stoic type, with little use for the idle conversations and pleasantries found among the more southern peoples. While there is some truth to that, it is mostly because such things are usually reserved for friends and clansmen in the North. Menddir however has spent a large part of his life in the South, and has become much more open to others. A serious warrior for sure, but a welcoming friend to those around him.
Menddir was born in the fractious tribal area known simply as the Northlands, where Jarls rule over small holds, trade and make war with one another; some send raiding parties to the Southern Lands, while others offer their services as warriors to defend against such attacks.
Menddir was the second son of a minor noble, and grew up always intending to be his brother's strong right arm when he inherited thier father's title. Such plans where further strengthened, when as he began to mature, a magical affinity began to show itself.
Tested by the Hold's Skaal, his strength was found to be a bit lacking, but that did not worry Menddir; he'd already been training as a warrior since he was a child, now he would become one of the revered Iron Mages, men and women who wielded both blade and magic on the battlefield.
-
In his fifteenth year, his father's Housecarl and Skaal both deemed him fit to leave training and take up arms as an Iron Mage. The next two years were some of the greatest of his young life; raiding both Holds and southern towns at his brother's side, hunting beasts and other such deeds. However just short of his eighteenth year, he nearly undid it all; at the Jarl's request, he and a sizable war-party were sent to aid an allied Hold, and upon arriving Menddir in his youthful arrogance was dismayed to see the allied Jarl was an old man who seemed to do little but sit in his Great Hall and whisper to his attendants.
After the war-party assisted in driving off a heavy raid from another Hold, the reason they were sent in the first place, Menddir made his move. Barging into the Great Hall he declared the Jarl was too feeble to rule and that the Hold deserved a strong leader, an Iron Mage leader. While his war-party's presence gave the impression that he was willing to make a go of it, few of the men seemed overly enthusiastic (he'd neglected to tell any of them his poorly thought out plan).
Marching to the Jarl, he issued a challenge by combat for the right to rule, stating he'd give the old man a 'chance' by with holding his magic. The Jarl nodded, and the Hall was made ready for the duel. Once all was set the duel began...and then it ended; in his arrogance, Menddir rushed in thinking to overwhelm the old Jarl, only to find himself on the ground with the left side of his face feeling like it was on fire, and a bloody sword point to his nose.
Seeing Menddir's stupidity and arrogance for what it was, the Jarl didn't claim his life, though it was his right, instead ordering Menddir's war-party to gather up their half-blinded 'leader' and depart at once. Upon returning to his own hold, his Jarl was enraged, but not without mercy. He was allowed to remain in the Hold for as long as it took for his wound to be declared healed, though he would have few rights and no authority. Once that time was passed, he was escorted from the Hold to never return under pain of death. After the Jarl's initial pronouncement neither his father nor brother spoke to or of him, nor came to see him while he remained. His mother still came to see him, though she seldom spoke, but that was more because she helped tend his wound. When he was escorted from the Hold none of his family were there.
--
From there he set off South to try and make his way in the world, and to keep his belly full; while he was angry at the time, he's now made peace with what was done and considers it the right action. What he did should have started a war between his Hold and the other, but wiser heads prevailed, and he still had his life.
--
Menddir found himself in Heston not for the first time, having just finished a contract escorting one of the city's wealthier merchants around a few of his holdings outside of the city's walls.
Menddir was the second son of a minor noble, and grew up always intending to be his brother's strong right arm when he inherited thier father's title. Such plans where further strengthened, when as he began to mature, a magical affinity began to show itself.
Tested by the Hold's Skaal, his strength was found to be a bit lacking, but that did not worry Menddir; he'd already been training as a warrior since he was a child, now he would become one of the revered Iron Mages, men and women who wielded both blade and magic on the battlefield.
-
In his fifteenth year, his father's Housecarl and Skaal both deemed him fit to leave training and take up arms as an Iron Mage. The next two years were some of the greatest of his young life; raiding both Holds and southern towns at his brother's side, hunting beasts and other such deeds. However just short of his eighteenth year, he nearly undid it all; at the Jarl's request, he and a sizable war-party were sent to aid an allied Hold, and upon arriving Menddir in his youthful arrogance was dismayed to see the allied Jarl was an old man who seemed to do little but sit in his Great Hall and whisper to his attendants.
After the war-party assisted in driving off a heavy raid from another Hold, the reason they were sent in the first place, Menddir made his move. Barging into the Great Hall he declared the Jarl was too feeble to rule and that the Hold deserved a strong leader, an Iron Mage leader. While his war-party's presence gave the impression that he was willing to make a go of it, few of the men seemed overly enthusiastic (he'd neglected to tell any of them his poorly thought out plan).
Marching to the Jarl, he issued a challenge by combat for the right to rule, stating he'd give the old man a 'chance' by with holding his magic. The Jarl nodded, and the Hall was made ready for the duel. Once all was set the duel began...and then it ended; in his arrogance, Menddir rushed in thinking to overwhelm the old Jarl, only to find himself on the ground with the left side of his face feeling like it was on fire, and a bloody sword point to his nose.
Seeing Menddir's stupidity and arrogance for what it was, the Jarl didn't claim his life, though it was his right, instead ordering Menddir's war-party to gather up their half-blinded 'leader' and depart at once. Upon returning to his own hold, his Jarl was enraged, but not without mercy. He was allowed to remain in the Hold for as long as it took for his wound to be declared healed, though he would have few rights and no authority. Once that time was passed, he was escorted from the Hold to never return under pain of death. After the Jarl's initial pronouncement neither his father nor brother spoke to or of him, nor came to see him while he remained. His mother still came to see him, though she seldom spoke, but that was more because she helped tend his wound. When he was escorted from the Hold none of his family were there.
--
From there he set off South to try and make his way in the world, and to keep his belly full; while he was angry at the time, he's now made peace with what was done and considers it the right action. What he did should have started a war between his Hold and the other, but wiser heads prevailed, and he still had his life.
--
Menddir found himself in Heston not for the first time, having just finished a contract escorting one of the city's wealthier merchants around a few of his holdings outside of the city's walls.
Quilted gambeson and lamellar armour
Iron helmet and chain-mail
Splinted greaves and vambraces
His left vambrace is engraved with a runic sigil of defence and protection allowing him to focus a ward into a shield that will stop most physical and magical attacks for a time.
Axe
Seax
Iron helmet and chain-mail
Splinted greaves and vambraces
His left vambrace is engraved with a runic sigil of defence and protection allowing him to focus a ward into a shield that will stop most physical and magical attacks for a time.
Axe
Seax
Skills
Single-Handed CombatCook
Tailor
Singer
Abilities
MageCold Resistant
Long Endurance
Major Spells
FireboltMedium range ball of fire. Explodes on contact
Flames
Short range jet of fire
Frost
Short range blast of intense cold
Lightning
Medium range bolt of lightening. Can arc between some targets.
Minor Spells
Defensive WardFocused through left vambrace. Creates a three foot diameter 'shield' for protection.
Bind Wound
Causes wounds to heal at a phenomenal rate.
He has at least three sons and two daughters, that he knows of, but he's never met any of them.