Marie Ken

ᛤ Jomsvikings ᛤ

Setting
Place: Sólundarhaf Sea
Time of Day: Early Evening
Event: Viggo's Funeral
Season: Haustmánuður (Autumn)



Silence ensued Althea's words and it was not a promising quietude. The clans begrudged the Jomsvikings for not taking a political stance, but though she was not the leader of the group, she knew her fellow warriors enough to respond with confidence. No, the confidence of her words was not feigned- merely that of speaking out in general.

Althea did not wish to deepen the chasm of division amongst her people. Though she knew she was not the cause of it, seeing the rage and malice in their gazes reflecting back at her, made her wary.

Opening her mouth to once more try to sway the clans people of their errant ways, her words were cut short by the thunderous drumbeats. Saxons had been spotted along the border. Whether at sea or by land, she did not know. The only thing evident was that she was clearly wasting her time attending the latest meeting of the clans. They knew not of which clan or clans member they wanted to lead the people, only that not having a Chieftain would not suffice.

Until they reached a place of unity, such a decision would not be made.

"So, your group will not rally behind Ylfing?"

This question created an uproar.

"Ylfing? Are you mad?"

"Moontouched, he is."

"Skjöldung will be the next clan to-"

Tuning them out, Althea picked up her weapon and proceeded through the crowd. Whatever else they had to say, it would be nothing enlightening. She had heard the arguments before, knew them by heart, and still could not vouch for one clan over the other. Mayhap, one of the Jomsvikings should rule.

But then, none seemed interested in ruling over grown children who threw fits just as well as they did axes.

Tethered to a tree just outside of the meeting area, her horse lifted its head upon her arrival, twitching its ears as if capable of separating her footfall from any other. The beast was large, even for a mount, having been her father's before his passing. It was a war mount, but it sufficed for everyday travel as well.

Before she could mount, a hand still hers as she loosened the reins that tied the animal to the tree.

The man, a complete stranger, held her hand, gripping it in his icy palm as his grey, blue eyes locked her in their gaze.

"Here you are, running away from the troubles of the clans. And they claim Jomsvikings are not cowards," he muttered, a sneer distorting the curve of his lips in a rather unappealing manner.

She snapped her hand out of his grasp, noticing the halfmoons his nails had imprinted along her pale skin. Taking a steadying breath, she turned to face him, chin lifted and eyes unwavering. Who was he to try to intimidate her?

"Touch me again and you will find that Jomsvikings never run away from trouble."

He seemed almost tempted to do so again. Instead, the man faltered a step and glared. "You are not helping anyone by ignoring what needs to be done. The Jomsvikings can end all this arguing and fighting by simply appointing the next Chieftain."

Was he right? Did they hold as much away as he seemed to think they did?

She shook her head. "We are merely warriors, not politicians. We will merely be mudding the water by getting involved. Besides, if you attended that meeting, you witnessed their response to my words. They will not see reason."

"No," he said, lifting a brow. "Perhaps, they will not, at least so as long as it comes from a woman. But a man-"

Again, the drums rang out.

Tearing herself from the pointless conversation at the same time she did the reins from the tree, she swung up onto the horse and mentally went over the catalogue of weaponry at her disposal. If this battle had been like the others of recent, it would be quick and easy, but one could never been to cautious before entering a fight.

Before she could leave, the man captured her horse's mouthpiece, stirring a startled cry from her horse. Reflexively, she withdrew a dagger in less time than it took the man to blink, and held it to the man's throat. She had plenty of forbearance for many things, but one thing she would not tolerate was a man mistreating her animal.

Slowly, the man released the horse and backed away. He set his murderous glare on her once more.

"Don't forget what we have discussed this day."

She would not even if she willed it. How could she?

Without responding to the petulant man, she snapped the reins, ridding herself of the man and the unnecessary drama he created with just his presence.

In a kaleidoscope of pale greens, browns, and the barest of yellows, the forest flew past her as her horse carried her in the direction of the battle. Despite where they were headed, her mind was a thousand miles away, attempting to work out the issues that would take far longer than a few seconds to remedy- and take more than just one woman.

One thing was clear. There was no peace in sight for the clans.

Jomsvikings

The woman knew the end neared, yet her gaze never wavered as the Viking raised his weapon and silenced the cry before it could claw itself from her throat. The Chieftain could scarcely believe his eyes. His beloved wife was gone, blotted out like the other courageous souls felled that day.

A rough hand shook his shoulder from behind, tearing his attention away from his beloved.

"We must retreat. Their forces are too much for our people."

The Chieftain blinked, clearing away the fog in his mind. But there was no other choice. He would die this day.

With a mighty roar, the man entered the fray of the fighting men, tearing the air and any flesh that dared to venture across his path, with his axe. Just when hope sprouted in his chest like a petulant flower in the middle of winter, an arrow robbed him of a legendary victory, and of life itself.

The Chieftain was dead.

As the retreat was initiated, the enemy took advantage of the situation, opting only to leave but a few alive.

This massacre sent ripples across the Viking lands, calling for unification lest the Saxons end them all.

However, old wounds fester when covered up without proper treatment.

Forced to work together, the clans made an attempt at harmony, but it did not last long. Their old ways combined with shared faults and suspicions, dismantled any hope of working as a unit to rid the land of the Saxon rats. Desperate, they decided together that they would pull the most skilled and cunning from their clans and form what is known as the, Jomsvikings.

This elite group of Vikings are charged with leading warriors against the Saxons, but now that their mission has partially been accomplished, the clans are fighting over who gets to employ them for their own selfish ambitions.

Thus ushering in an age of political unrest as Vikings ever watch their backs for Saxon attacks.

-

Hello! Above is the backstory the rp which leads to the creation of the Jomsvikings. These elite Vikings are ruthless and highly skilled, employed by those with enough coin to hire them.

The Vikings are temporarily without a Chieftain, making the Jomsvikings job of keeping the peace, all that much harder. They must also keep a watchful eye on the seas and borderlands lest any Saxon army slip by. Despite their status as elite warriors, their popularity amongst the people gives them ample political influence, whether or not those in politics like it.

Not that any of them would choose to put themselves on the throne- well, maybe.

In this roleplay, the emphasis will be on the Jomsvikings as they navigate political strain, but also as they handle issues within the clans as well as the occasional Saxon attack.

Two Options I was thinking:
1.) This remains a completely realistic roleplay with no fantastical elements. However, the group would take a set of vows upon joining. These vows stipulate that the group comes before all else, including spouses or children, and establish rules for the group as well as list our repercussions for abandoning the group.

2.) This remains mostly realistic, but introduces a supernatural artifact, making it so that each member must swear the oathes will touching the stone which creates a tie to the rest of the group. This tie is nearly unbreakable, but if broken, the severing would be dier for the one walking away. Also, it would gift them with unmatched skills with a single weapon of their choice. The bond would be an intimate one amongst the Jomsvikings, making it so that the members can draw on each other's strengths and pick up on each other's emotions. This isn't a forced side effect of the link, merely one they can opt into when fighting.

Forbidden love option with this as well, not that romance is the main theme of this game, but would be a fun option to consider.

I'd list out the oathes and their pros and cons if this is something people would rather do.

Also, if there are those who'd rather play characters outside of the group, that is fine with me as well.

Thank you all for reading this far, let me know what you think! 😊

Gritty semi-NRP fantasy RP with loss and gain between machinations of politics and war

Very creative. I'd be interested if you can build enough intrigue. Fingers crossed!

A Tentative Hello

Hello,

Per the usual, I'm here scouting out for roleplaying partners. Even if we don't get the chance to write together, I wish everyone the best of luck in their hunt for roleplays. Also, hope everyone is doing well. 😊