The Nordland Saga
The setting I had in mind for the Nordland Saga would be one where survival is at the center of the story, and no, don't worry. I do not intend for this to be solely a sandbox roleplay. Think of it as such: a group gets thrown into the wild with nothing more than the clothes they were wearing at that time. The first thing they would do is walk away, as this place is no longer their home! After some time they would decide, together or apart, that they needed a place to stay in. And then they realize, they don't need just a place to stay, they need food, water, warmth. And possibly, if your character is sensible enough, he'll realize he needs brotherhood, companionship or in some cases, bloodshed and the call of Valhal. This is what I had in mind when I say ''survival.''
Besides that, it's also a social experiment: what happens when you throw multiple people (okay.. multiple vikingr) together in a group and then see how they react to new situations and new things happening around them? Will someone take charge? Will they stay together? These are all questions that solely depend on the characters - one person might take charge, the others might want a say in what goes on as well. Some will believe companionship will keep them alive, others might think they are better off alone.
In short: this story or roleplay will be about people being banished or exiled from their village and forced out and building a new life. It will also be about norsemen and their corresponding traits.
Now one might ask how they will fit in with the group - that's very simple. It's completely up to you! Since the warband consisted mainly of carefully picked men and women from all ranks and professions, you can come up with anything! This is not me saying you can be a dragon, nor is this me saying you can be Wodan's son in human form. However, if you want your character to be a simple carpenter that survived somehow because he held out his spear at the right time then that is what he shall be. If you want your character to be a seasoned raider who knew what to do at the right time (or not, maybe he was a clumsy raider that was just always lucky) then you can be that as well.
I'm trying to say here that you can be anything as long as it's not too crazy. If you think of something but fear it might be a bit too much - just ask. Questions don't hurt me (secretly I love questions, they're fun) and in my country we have a saying: you always have a no, and you can only get a yes by asking.
However do keep in mind the fact that you'll have to survive somehow. A carpenter is probably not very well trained in the art of warfare, so he will probably spend most of his time in combat playing a supporting role, if any role at all. In the same way, a raider or soldier is most likely not well versed in anything but that - fighting or maybe leading. Therefore I suggest a more or less balanced party. But I in no way want to confine you to such, if you want to go full soldier survival then be my guest.
What has happened so far, you might wonder? In short, your characters were sent out with the warband to raid a certain area. So, they got in a longboat and sailed! These men and women were however not battle hardened, and the amount of ''experienced raiders'' were countable on two hands. But, the case was the same in the villages they were raiding; most men were part of the militia, or poor farmers who grabbed a pitchfork to protect their homestead. What happened afterwards isn't sure, as all characters could have a different remembrance of the happening. Some could say it was Wodan and he smited and struck down the warband. Others could say it was a trap laid by the enemy, and they were ambushed. Others would simply not remember (''I was asleep, chief!''). Everything is possible, and I would find it interesting to see what people will think happened.
After the death of the majority of the warband, they would head home, without longboat, in a long trek across land. However the chief of their village wasn't all too happy - he lost valuable men and women, he got no new spoils of battle, and he had possibly angered Wodan by losing his warband. To avoid any further conflicts with his own villagers or the gods themselves, he exiled you and your group. What you do afterwards is your call, but keep in mind not to anger the gods too often! Wodan is not very forgiving.
Welcome to the Nordland Saga! I hope you are ready to play your part in this story created by and for us. In this roleplay, survival and teamwork is central - but it doesn't have to be. How you survive is up to you! Before you begin on your CS, I would like to have some ground rules (really, it's the same as most other RP's but I feel that they must be addressed one way or another) that I'd like to state here.
- I'm the GM. I have final say.
- discussion with me is fine. Pushing a matter after I made a decision isn't.
- We play vikings. Cussing, gore, rape, touchy subjects yadda yadda is part of their lifestyle.
- Just because I'm okay with you using it, doesn't mean others are. If you think ''maybe this is too much'' it probably is. To the people possibly offended: we play vikings, not ponies.
- If you're having an argument with someone in the rp.. keep it to PM's.
- If you wanna arrange a real life fight, don't do it in the OOC. No, really. Don't.
- Please try and think on how you can make the story/rp better yourself as well.
- I'm a GM, not superman! I can run out of ideas and might ask suggestions. Don't be afraid to tell me what you think!
- We operate on a ''post when you feel like it'' basis. If you wanna post 2x. a day because someone responded to your post, do it. If you wanna wait for something to happen, wait.
- Just don't be ''that guy'' that keeps saying ''I'll post, I'll post!'' and then drops out a week later, keeping us waiting and makes us lose interest.
Now with that out of the way, you guys probably want the CS sheet. So, here it is.
Full name: [self explanatory, keep the Nordic setting in mind]
Sex: [male/female. Keep in mind females will be somewhat looked down upon.]
Age: [self explanatory]
[/b]Appearance:[/b] [can be a picture, a realistic drawing or a description. Any of those is fine. No manga, please.]
Clothing or armour: [if the picture doesn't cover it the way you want it to, but you just like his/her face, describe the clothing or armor here]
Facial features: [again, if the picture is missing something you can describe it here]
Weapons and equipment: [what type of weapon do they have, what type of equipment do they use? If they are a hunter, a bow and quiver with arrows is in order, etcetera.]
Personality: [doesn't have to be too long, but it should have some depth. Some basic stuff should be answered in the least, for example what is he like in a conversation, how does he behave within the group, is he intro/extraverted, calm, angry? Expanding on that is allowed and I like seeing dedication to your characters.]
History: [should be self explanatory but in short: what and who was your character before he or she got exiled? Can describe things such as family tree, but can also be kept to a bare minimum of how they got to be in the warband or such. If you want your character to have an unknown background towards others, you should still put it here. This is just background info for us, and shouldn't be used IC unless your character tells them about it themselves.]
Combat skills: [self explanatory. Keep it balanced and realistic in regards to his or her history. If you weren't a professional raider/soldier then you probably had, at most, militia training. Just use your brain.]
Other skills: [basically, can they hunt, can they trap animals, can they do this or that. Can be anything. A soldier will not have many of these, if any at all. Again, use your brain.]
Additional info: [If I missed something you really really, reallllllly wanted your character to have put it here. If you want him/her to have a pet like a dog or cat, I expect you to play those as NPC's yourself (naturally, since you probably want that as well). Nothing crazy like wolves in that case.]
That should be all. Happy roleplaying, everyone! Awaiting those character sheets with much speculation about what's to come.
Hall of accepted Vikingr - here you find your homestead.
Full name: Audrunar Fridtjof
Sex: Male
Age: 20
Appearance: Audrunar is an average sized man, standing at about 6'2. He is well built, but not overly muscled. He has the kind of muscles you expect from someone who works hard. He's somewhat broad chested, making him appear somewhat more buff, but nothing too noticeable. Furthermore he is average in most aspects of his body. Besides that, the paleness one expects from a northerner is present in his face as well and he has great pride over it. His hair is clean shaven on the sides, both left and right. On top, it's long and held down towards the back in a ponytail. His hair is blonde, sitting between dark and light blonde.
Clothing or armour: Whenever he is relaxing, he wears his dark blue tunic with burgundy trimming. It's a very simple tunic, and has been worn for a long time, so there's bits and pieces of grime on it that cannot be washed out anymore. Besides that it's well maintained as the women in the group made sure to adress any issues with Audrunars clothes. Underneath that he'd wear some simple leather pants, held up by a belt with a belt buckle depicting Donars hammer. In day to day life this set is augmented by a light leather breastpiece, as was the standard in these times. The breastpiece is a leather vest of sorts. The sleeves on it are not leather, but the part that goes over the chest is. The sleeves are about elbow length, and end wide to allow for easier movement.
Facial features: Audrunar has the classic northerner features of being blonde with blue eyes. In any other aspect, he is very average. His cheeks have fallen in due to the somewhat light diet they had to face during the trek home. Audrunar himself is quite fond of this new feature. His chin is pointy, but it is covered up by a small pointy beard, blonde in color as his hair. His jaw line is also very average, not very straight nor bendy in feature and it deserves no special notion from any kind of woman.
Weapons and equipment: Audrunar has an axe on his hip, strapped in with some leather to his belt so he can access it easily. Besides that he wields a medium sized shield. Besides that he also has some stuff less fitted for combat, such as his seax (knife), a hunting spear/javelin and a bigger but more unwieldy axe for chopping/splitting wood. Due to the lack of time to gather his items, he really has no personal objects with him, or anything else.
Personality: Audrunar is not an introvert, but holds a strong believe that anyone who is interested in his ideas and opinions can ask for them. Therefore, he doesn't go out and openly speaks about his ideas with anyone in a general fashion. He likes to stick to himself, but understands the necessity for brother and sistership in times like these, as he was always taught so by the people in his warband. When problems arise, and things are opposite from what Audrunar wants to see happen, he will get very angry, and if the situation stays the same long enough he is capable of using violence to force the issue - otherwise he is quite alright with the way things go and prefers to make the best out of any situation they will get stuck in. This means he can be both calm and very angry and violent when the need arises.
Audrunar feels strongly that there is a natural hierarchy in any group and that he is most likely not the one supposed to be at the head of the group - therefore he accepted his fate as a follower and not a leader. This doesn't mean he's afraid of speaking his mind but he simply accepts there is other ways for him to exert influence than simple leadership. Audrunar also strongly believes that any individual should first and foremost be capable of taking care of themselves and their needs, and once that's done that you should help others. Therefore he hates leeches with a strong hate. He doesn't care if others leech off of others, and will simply laugh at the stupidity of the ones being leeched on for not noticing. But anyone leeching off of him is in for trouble.
Besides that bravery is important for him, he intends to make his way from midgard into Valhalla and is convinced that for that he needs to show bravery in any sense possible. To his personality, this translates to a trait best described as ''never back down'' as he would never say he was wrong, even if it is so clear that he was.
History: Audrunar was born to a farmer called Leifdur and his wife, who shall remain nameless as she is of no importance. Due to Leifdur being a relatively well off farmer, Audrunar was spending most of his days playing with friends, pretending to be strong Viking raiders entering battles with other Vikings (their other friends). Whenever he had to do labour, it was hard labour (for a child) such as chopping wood, hauling logs for Leifdur's friends as a chore, whatever his father told him to do basically. This wasn't brutal, it was just the way things went. The gods always played an important role in Leifdurs life, so naturally this was brought over into Audrunars life. He learned that everything you did was judged by the Gods, so importantly you would make sure to do the right thing, show bravery, be kind to your kinmen, etcetera.
When he came of age his father said to him “Audrunar, I have many sons capable of being farmers, and all of them are capable to run my estate for me after I grow old. But none of them can bring honor to my name, none but you.” It was pretty clear that all of Audrunars brothers were capable farmers, but not so much honorable warriors. Sure, they may be able to throw a stone or stab with a spear, but that doesn't define a warrior. As he was the eldest, he was sent to join a nearby village's warband. Two summers later his father died and his brother, Leifsson, took over the farm. He hasn't heard from them since.
It was time well spent, and though they did not raid much, they drank much. Because of the current lay-still of the warbands raiding activities due to a lack of willing men to fight Audrunar mostly spent his time helping out around the village. This gave him some skills in some mandatory tasks but nothing too fancy. Things such as hammering on a board to hammer a nail in were things he could do. The first time he got sent on a raiding trip was also the last, as after this he got exiled from the village. During the raid he was somewhere in the center of the group, but he claims he couldn't get a clear view on what happened. He just remembers there was a lot of arrows flying overhead, and that once he got to lower his shield everyone was dead.
Combat skills: Audrunar knows how to swing an axe, hold a shield and use them both in tandem effectively. This gives him a very basic level of soldiery, but he knows more than the average militiaman. He is agile and brutal enough to hold fast in combat in one on one combat, and has the tactical skills to succeed in doing his part in group battles, however he is also not very well trained in real combat and as such his reflexes are not up to par to deal with getting unlucky every time. Compared to a militia man he is a good fighter, compared to a seasoned raider he is just merely a nuisance.
Other skills: He is all-rounded and can do some basic tasks such as chopping wood, sawing boards, making firewood, starting a fire and other such ''survival'' required tasks. He is very interested in learning how to hunt and trap, but hasn't yet got the skills to do any of that. Besides this he has no real skills.
(Pretty close match for the general face and hair. Eyes should be hazel, and she won't be half-naked in the rain.)Full Name: Erika Maritsdottir.
Sex: Female.
Age: 19.
Appearance: Erika’s not a large girl, but she seems to be done growing standing at about 5’5”. Her build is slim, with wiry muscling throughout, a result of a light diet mixed with the physical labors that she prefers. She has narrow hips and a relatively small chest, a flat stomach, and roughly equal proportions for her upper and lower body. Her skin is pale as any northerner’s, and bears a minimal amount of scarring or notable markings.
Facial Features: She has a fairly comely face, with soft features that stopped appearing childlike several years ago, to her relief. Her eyes are hazel and not very large, her nose small and not protruding overly far from her face, with thin, salmon-colored lips. Her hair is a very dark brown and kept at about shoulder length, with a slight curl to it especially when damp, which is quite common. She almost always leaves it loose.
Clothing/Armor: Erika’s never been fond of dresses, and prefers furs and leathers instead. She doesn’t encumber herself more than she needs to, but will certainly wear enough to stay warm, typically leather leggings and fur boots, a hide tunic under a fur shawl with a hood, and leather bracers. She makes all of her own clothing, and owns no pieces of armor.
Weapons/Equipment: As a self-made hunter, Erika owns a medium-sized recurve bow for hunting game and a moderate store of arrows, though she is very cautious with these now that the means for producing more are not as readily available. She owns two knives, one for skinning animals and another, slightly larger one for self-defense. She also has a hatchet and a larger wood-cutting axe. None of them are ideal weapons of war, but they’re not useless, either.
(Looked a while for an image, but couldn’t find one I liked. I may add one later if I find something that mostly fits this description.)
Personality: Erika’s largely an introvert as a result of being more or less a social misfit, but that certainly doesn’t mean she’s shy. She’s quite comfortable on her own, speaking to few people for days at a time, but if she needs or wants something from someone, she’s not afraid to force an issue.
Restless is probably the best word to describe her. She understands the way her society works, but that doesn’t mean she has to like it, and it doesn’t mean she has to submit to it every step of the way. This endears her to some people and alienates her from others, and Erika’s fine with that, content to let people think what they will. She’s brave, willful, sometimes rash, self-sufficient, and typically friendly, so long as she’s being treated as a friend. Erika doesn’t have an excess of pride, either. She won’t be anyone’s slave, but she’s able to recognize when something needs to get done, and she’s willing to do it if need be.
History: Erika was never a very good Viking girl.
She doesn’t even have a father, for one. Well she does, somewhere in the world, but she’s never met him, and wouldn’t recognize him if she did. Erika came about as a result of rape when her mother Marit’s village was burned by a strong warband. Marit was spared, however, and for a time wandered with other survivors until she was taken in by another village. Marit was not taken as a wife by any of the men of the village, and was left to raise Erika alone, among the poorest and lowest in the village, but alive.
Erika did a poor job of fitting into her role even as a child, gravitating more towards the activities of young boys, and developed a bit of a troublemaker’s reputation. Despite her mother’s efforts and those of concerned members of the village, her attitude could not be adjusted, though eventually as she matured Erika came to have a slightly more well-rounded view on her place in the village, especially when she was expected to begin contributing. When she was able, however, she took up hunting, and spent many days apart from the village with some of the boys, learning how to shoot, make snares, and other skills associated with hunting.
She was expected to marry at some point, around when she was fifteen, but her traits were typically considered undesirable, both her physical prospects for child-bearing, and her stance towards her position in the village. Erika was fine with being overlooked, and instead began to desire accompanying a warband on a raid, given her steadily improving archery and formidable bravery. When she was nineteen, she got her wish, but it didn’t turn out quite like she’d planned. Being near the rear of the group, she wasn’t aware of what exactly went wrong, but the raid was a disastrous failure, and Erika was exiled along with several others as a result.
Combat Skills: She’s a pretty good shot with a bow, which is by far her best approach to combat. Her sneaking is pretty good given her experience as a hunter, and she could probably kill a man with her knife if she could get the jump on him, but she’ll rarely be able to overpower anyone, and her lack of armor makes it a bad idea for Erika to be near the most dangerous fighting. She's also never killed anyone, so her ability to kill someone might not guarantee that she could actually go through with it.
Other Skills: Hunting, trapping, tracking, sneaking, some thievery (no pickpocketing, just a tendency to quietly snatch up things that are lying around), fletching, cooking, cleaning, sewing and stitching, minor medical skills (she knows how to clean and stitch cuts and minor gashes), navigational skills, climbing. She has a pretty good singing voice, but doesn’t use it when other people are around.
Full name: Jonrik Teduin
Sex: M
Age: 23
Appearance: Jonrik is surprising lithe for his profession as a blacksmith, but his muscles are hard and defined across his whole upper body. He carries little personal items with him.
Clothing/Armor: Mostly, Jonrik wears loose, light clothing under an apron when he works. When he's not working, he merely looses the apron. Jonrik does own a shirt of mail armor, and has metal gauntlets and a helmet, all self-made.
Facial features: Jonrik has a nice face, with no feature too large or small. He has dark blue eyes and long brown hair that he keeps in a low ponytail. He has a small amount of facial hair around his mouth.
Weapons and equipment: Jonrik wields a large woodsman's ax apt for a man of his strength.
Personality: Jonrik is a practical man, but not unfriendly. He spends most of his time working, during which he does not like to be disturbed, even by Alva. He keeps to a task until it is finished and is annoyed by laziness. When he's not working, Jonrik is congenial and friendly. He'll go have a drink with his fellow man, or help out someone in need, because all around Jonrik is a good guy. He believes in the importance of community and is a bit of a patriot for his fellow people. He can talk to nearly anyone and is normally agreeable, enough so that he can talk other men down from anger before things get out of hand.
History: Jonrik was born to a couple not very worthy of note. Through his young childhood, he worked on his fathers farm a few miles away from the nearest town. However, that farm was taken over by raiders one night, and Jonrik escaped and ran for his life. Eventually, he made it to the next town. He was found by a large woman and her daughter on the outskirts of town and the woman brought him home. Having not given her husband a son yet, they decided to keep the boy. The man that was the red-headed woman's husband was the blacksmith of the town, and took Jonrik under his wing as an apprentice. At the age of six, he was in his prime to start learning a trade. Jonrik grew up under the man's teachings and became a talented blacksmith and eventually married his daughter Alva.
Jonrik did not join any raiding party because he wanted destruction, but because he felt a duty to his people that he had to at least contribute something to its militant forces. Jonrik has been on a few successful raiding parties, but before he did anything of note he was caught up in the missing raiding party. He and Alva, having both been on the raid, were knocked out in the beginning of the fight and have no recollection of what happened.
Combat skills: Jonrik can use his ax efficiently enough to keep himself and his wife alive in battle, although he has little in the way of defense. Jonrik is physically strong, especially his hands, and can grapple without a weapon and use his strength effectively.
Other skills: Smithing, grappling, stamina, hunting, negotiating.
Additional info: Not much.
Full name: Alva Teduin
Sex: F
Age: 19
Appearance: Alva is a medium sized woman with feminine proportions. Her hands are small and calloused from her work with leather.
Clothing/Armor: Alva wears mostly cloth dresses, but unlike the average woman also has leather over-clothes for when she is outside. She has a leather vest, arm wrappings, and leggings, all self-made.
Facial features: Alva has soft features that could be called pretty, with long blonde hair she keeps in two side braids. Alva has bright blue eyes.
Weapons and equipment: Alva carries her skinning knife with her at all times. When she feels the need, she has a short-sword, made by her husband, that she knows how to wield. Alva, as the woman, carries all of her and Jonrik's equipment. She has a large pack that has their basic survival items in it (which they would've known to take before a raid). Alva also carries a heavier pack that holds Jonrik's smithy tools, like small hammers, metal and leather scraps, pliers and tongs, gloves, and other various things that he might need to do repairs. This bag also holds some of Alva's leather-working tools like scrapers, broken-down frames for drying, various bowls and smoking and tanning supplies. Alav also carriers Jonrik's hunting spears.
Personality: Alva is courteous and respectful around men as all women should be. She is not a quiet woman, being known to speak her opinion, but that is because Alva is smart. She is one to take charge among women, but that's because she usually knows how to manage resources effectively. She and Jonrik do love each other but she is the only one to show it. She's kindhearted, but not naive. She's polite, but not foolish. Alva is an all-over well-rounded woman. She doesn't have a temper but she does tire of foolishness easily.
History: Not much has happened to Alva in her short life. When she was young, Jonrik came to live with their family, but she didn't have much interaction with him until they were older. Alva spent most of her childhood learning how to work with leather and cloth. She knows how to cure it in different ways, how to color it (even how to bleach it), and knows generally how to make clothes and armor out of leather, as well as leather pieces for armor and other miscellaneous uses. Alva, given the right equipment, can also make cloth and other simpler clothing. She also learned general home-making skills.
When she was of age, after having fallen in love with him, Alva married Jonrik and the two basically took over her parents' shop. She did not want to go away with Jonrik. but it is often the woman's responsibility to cart around her husband's supplies and rewards. It is not uncommon for woman to be soldiers, and she trained with the sword as to not be a burden when the time came for battle. During their last raid, Alva was beside Jonrik and was also knocked unconscious before she knew what had happened.
Combat skills: Alva can use a short sword, but she has no formal training, Whereas Jonrik had been trained when he starting raiding, he gave Alva some pointers but no specific instruction. In battle, Alva stays close to Jonrik for both of their protections: she normally watches his flanks and back while he cuts down anyone facing him.
Other skills: Cooking, cleaning, spinning and weaving, leather working (curing, stretching, drying, smoking, dyeing, shaping, ect), sewing, cooking, cleaning, basic herbal medicine (which most women had some knowledge of in these times, having no doctors to call), child rearing, animal dissection and processing, gathering natural food.
Additional info: (I'm not sure if I want to make her pregnant for a plot device but ill leave it for now)
Full name: Aevar Halbjorn
Sex: Male
Age: Twenty-Eight
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Appearance:
Aevar stands roughly at 6’3. His shoulders are broad, complimenting the remainder of his rugged, overbearing figure. His pale skin is lined with jagged, fleshy scars, most notably on the entirety of his back, and forearms. He is rather strapping, his muscles forged from brutal hours upon hours of fighting and training.
Clothing or armor:
Aevar wears light, finely crafted chainmail, protecting him around his core. His chainmail hangs down over his belted leather trousers. A shadowy wolf pelt is strapped tightly about his shoulders, hanging down such as a cloak would. A single leather brace is bound onto his offhand, made of the same hardened leather used to craft his sword sheath. Even the smallest of details making him look brutish.
Facial features:
His amber hair is tied roughly into a long, tight braid, jutting down between his shoulder blades. Although a moderately long beard hides a majority of the scars on his chin and cheeks, a slender scar, running from the top of his ear, narrowly avoided his eye, to the base of his chin, hardens the rest of his solemn disposition. His eyes, resembling that of the sea he ofttimes hated the sight of, along with his slightly crooked nose, are but a few of the many details which notably stick out on his face.
Weapons and Equipment:
Aevar hefts a large, iron encased buckler, an assortment of symbols spanning the wooden surface. He holds it prominently in his left hand, although he is able to strap it onto his back while traveling. He always holds his beautifully crafted blade, sheathed at his side, along with a drinking horn, the only two relics he managed to take from his dear friend Gudfrith’s corpse that fateful day. He wields a long, thick spear, with an array of warbands, trophies taken from some of the many he has slain in battle, bound tightly around a makeshift handle. He has created a sheath for his knife, which is strapped snuggly next to the handle on the inside of his shield, allowing for easy access if the need ever arises.
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Personality:
He is rather cautious towards those who he does not know well, though once he has come to like a person, he treats them as though they were family. He is quick to stand up for those he would consider close, and he is willing to fight for what is his, even if the odds are entirely against him. He is very tactical when it comes to most things, and he thinks out most situations beforehand, even if he can be considered strong headed at times.
He only looks down upon those who have proved themselves cowards, respect is earned in his eyes, by contribution, both in the thick of battle, and otherwise.
History:
Aevar was born as a bastard, unto his father was a rigid, savage man, and a unnamed local whore. The beasts name was Torvir, a rather infamous berserker, whom stood at their elderly Jarls side for some time, following commands unquestionably. He commanded a fairly large warband, one which was composed of a large handful of skilled warriors, including Aevar’s two eldest brothers, both of legitimate birth. While his father’s band of raiders earned themselves a name, it seemed as though the poor bastard was left in the shadows, forgotten.
Aevar’s mother treated him with bitterness, resenting the fact that he was a bastard son, a constant reminder of his fathers mistakes. While Torvir was off pillaging, Aevar was forced to listen to his mother's constant disapproval and ridicule. He knew he was destined for greatness, something he alone foresaw. He begun studying the gods earnestly, devoting himself to them, and at an adolescent age he had started himself on a long a merciless path, hell bent on proving himself worthy enough to become a raider. Hours upon hours were spent with a sword in one hand, and a worn shield in the other.
When he was of age, he managed to find himself a place on one of the smallest warbands, desperate for raiders, one which was overlooked by the Jarl for some time, led by a fearless leader Known as Gudfrith. He was properly taught, taking several of his most noticeable skills from the man, including the art of tactical warfare, hunting, and the perfect balance of strength and skill, to become a highly effective berserker.
As Gudfrith’s band grew in numbers, and wealth, Aevar was in the process of building a name for himself. Whilst raiding a seemingly defenseless monastery, they were unexpectedly flanked by a disgruntled kings army. Although they held up well for some time, their formation was broken, Aevar watched as his companions were hacked down, it was when the remainder of the kings guard retreated, he noticed Grudfrith’s corpse. He took what he could from his dear friend, left more broken than he had ever before felt, before returning to face the Jarl.
Aevar was sent on a longboat, loaded with inexperienced warriors, it was a shoddy place to be for those raiders whom had trained properly beforehand, and after yet another ambush, he was left disowned by his father, and exiled with a small group of survivors. His family believes they have at last rid themselves of the worthless bastard, it was expected for him to give up, to let the world end his struggling life, but he plans to once again, prove them wrong.
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Combat skills: Using a hatchet, or an axe, was never his strong point. Although he makes up for it, with his brutally effective swordsmanship and the adept ability to use a spear. He is very tactical in the art of warfare, learning from a very small handful of the best. He is light on his feet, allowing for all sorts of effective attacks.
Other skills: Some Leadership, Hunting, Sailing, and Navigational/Cartography skills.
Full name: Faen, The Lokison
Sex: Male
Age: 19
Appearance: Faen stands slightly taller than most viking men, most of his height being in his long legs. He has a slight build, though is covered in lean muscle. His pale body has a smattering of scars and marks, some being earned in the training yard but most being 'gifts' from his father, the beatings one of the few constants in their relationship. His fingers are long and delicate, more suited to holding a pen than a sword and shield. His hair is long and thick, its colour a dark flame red, Faen being rather proud of its uniqueness.
Clothing or armour: Instead of the armour he merely wears a shirt and tunic, both so old that while they were once blue they have long since faded grey. Over that he usually wears a wool and leather great coat, several sizes to large for his frame. Other than his trews and his boots he has very little in the way of clothing. His only concession to his wealthy upbringing is a silver studded ornate knife belt.
Facial features: His left eye is a dark forrest green, his right a deep blue. He has a strong jawline and chin, and a aquiline nose that appears to have been broken in the past. Has grown a beard during the trek home. It has been noted that he is an extraordinarily handsome young man, possessing the kind of fine facial structure that wouldn't look out of place on an ancient Roman statue. He brushes his teeth with salt water whenever he gets a chance, giving him a fine smile that he uses as both a tool and a weapon. Nothing disarms a man better than a well timed smile.
Weapons and equipment: Has his knife and a seax.
Personality: Faen is intelligent, cunning and thoughtful, just about everything his 'father' didn't want in a son. He isn't lacking in bravery or honour, but his idea of these things are incredibly flexible. His harsh upbringing has made him cynical, though he would describe himself as a realist. He also has a somewhat cutting and sarcastic sense of humour, using a dark wit to deal with tense situations.
He has a reputation as a coward, as he isn't one who enjoys a fight, but this bothers him little. Anyone who enjoys a fight is a fool to his mind. For his part he is scathing of the typical viking warrior, the brutes with more muscles than brains.
He longs for a friend, trustee or confidante though. His upbringing left little room for companionship, his relationship with his father was unorthodox at best and his adulthood has been marked by people either hating or fearing him. He feels he would be a loyal friend to whomever gives him a chance, but has never had the chance to show that.
History: Faen was the first born son to the chief of the village, his mother dying in childbirth. He grew up in a cold household, his father being distant and hostile to him. The truth was a long time coming, but Faen eventually discovered why his father loathed him so. Nine months before he was born his father had been riding in the far reaches of his land, gone for the night, when a stranger walked into his home asking for travellers rights. The stranger was a flame-haired vagabond, with a silken tongue and razor wit, and word is he seduced Faen's mother. The stranger vanished the next morning, seconds before the chief returned. Rumours abounded that the vagabond was the God Loki, causing mischief as is his want.
The chief would have had Faen killed when his hair changed from baby blonde to the fiery red, as it didn't match his own, if it hadn't been for the fact that the babe had the chief's unique eyes, one blue and one green. This small detail gave the chief cause for concern, just enough for him to spare the child’s life. He raised the boy in his hall, but barely acknowledged him as his own son, instead treating him with a cold disdain, especially after it became apparent that the lad would never be a warrior. Faen spent most of his time with the wise men and shaman of the village, or with the travelling merchants that visited, bringing news and tales of far off places. His appetite for knowledge was voracious, and it soon became apparent that if he was the indeed the 'Lokison', as the rumours went, then he had inherited his fathers keen intelligence and propensity for trickery.
Recently his father has remarried, his new wife bearing him another son. He no longer needs Faen as an heir, so he has sent the Lokison on his first, incredibly ill fated raid. During the disastrous events that led to he and his companions being exiled Faen witnessed the All-Father lay his curse upon the war-party, but Odin spared Faen, saying that he was family, and that he was fated for greater and far more terrible things. He then passed out. When he awoke his sword and armour were missing, though they were both weights he cared little for.
Whatever those terrible deeds are Odin spoke of Faen doesn't know, but this destiny weighs heavy on him now.
Combat skills: Almost non-existent. Despite being brought up in the long hall of the chief, and hours upon hours being put into his training, Faen has never been able to say he's a fighter. He has a savage cunning though, and is ruthless and realistic enough to now that when your chance comes you have to take it.
Other skills: Faen lacks the skills and traits usually associated with a viking, instead viewing himself as more of an intellectual. He has learnt at the feet of the wise men of the tribe, hungry for knowledge, so he has skill with a wide variety of subjects including but not limited to religion, law, husbandry, herbology and medicine. He can read and write the runes of his own people and those of the British, as well as a little Latin, displaying a talent for languages. His true interest lies in people though, in their behaviours and actions. He has developed some skill in being able to read people, and using this information to manipulate them. Though not the most physical of sorts he does show some promise as a runner, possessing both a terrific sprinting speed and impressive stamina.
He has learnt to walk quietly, and excellent trait in a thief, and an especially handy one for an ill-favoured son. His lithe fingers are well suited to pilfering things from other peoples pockets, a skill he has developed in quiet, picking pockets becoming a game of sorts to him.
His greatest skill is his speech craft though, as he truly possess a silver tongue. Lying comes as natural as breathing to him, given enough time he would damn near be capable of convincing a man the sky is green.
He thinks his way through problems, cares little for personal honour, would quite happily live the rest of his life without ever holding a sword. In short he's a terrible Viking.
