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| The Grey Spear Clan; Looking for "Viking" Style players...please PM Arngierr for info | |
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| Topic Started: Feb 10 2009, 08:21 AM (426 Views) | |
| Arngierr Hergiersson | Feb 10 2009, 08:21 AM Post #1 |
Apprentice
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As dawns breaks across the frozen valley floor, Arngierr finds himself awake and watching the majesty of the morning sun as it hits the ice. Though his eyes are open, and taking in the serenity of dawn his mind is elsewhere. The young apprentice shaman focuses inward, trying to manipulate the energies within his own body. However, he has had no success on this day, or any other day for that matter. With a sigh, Arngierr hops off of the low-hanging roof of the Shaman's longhouse. He lands in the knee-high snow with barely a sound. Like most days, Arngierr has risen long before he must. He finds the extra magical pratice to be helpful, as there is little time for practice during the day. As if the duties he must perform for the clan shaman were not enough, Arngierr still likes to make it to weapon practice in the morning...something that is definately not part of his training as an apprentice shaman. He reaches just inside the shaman's longhouse, grabbing his thick purple wool cloak. He tosses the cloak around his shoulders, and heads to the practice ring on the outskirts of the small village. He absently waves away the taunts and jeers from the village warriors. To Arngierr it is courageous to suffer the insults, knowing that he is forbidden to answer the insults with violence. To the warriors of the clan -as Arngierr is all too aware- the apprentice shaman is a weakling, hiding behind his position of honor. He suffers the insults and the injuries of weapon practice, because Arngierr is wise enough to know that he must. |
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| Finnur Jökulsson | Mar 16 2009, 08:23 PM Post #2 |
dreng
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On most mornings, Finnur would be right alongside the other warriors in taunting the shaman's apprentice, but today, for some reason he couldn't bring himself to. In fact, he regretted every day he had done it before. This change in him felt like something between the sickness of guilt, wholly unfamiliar to Finnur, and the elation of a new self-awareness. The large warrior rubbed his forehead with a rough palm trying to sort out his thoughts, but nothing came of it. He picked up his wooden practice sword and followed Arngierr to the ring outside of the village. Perhaps he was going just to observe. Perhaps he wanted some practice himself, to clear his head. The other warriors murmured amongst themselves, concerned that Finnur was going too far and planned to pick a fight with the apprentice, but they apparently decided to wait and see how things turned out because none of them rose to stop him. As he walked out of the village, Finnur almost forgot about Arngierr entirely. He was running through the positions and maneuvers of combat with a short sword. It was this training that comprised his life, that made him whole. Though Finnur didn't understand the apprentice walking ahead of him, he admired his dedication to his craft, and he began to wonder if he might be able to learn something from the man. Not about magic, but about life, dedication and spirit. Character Info Character Inventory |
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| Arngierr Hergiersson | Mar 22 2009, 02:57 AM Post #3 |
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Apprentice
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Arngierr hears the heavy footsteps of Finnur -for they could only be the footsteps of the mightiest Grey Spear -behind him. He does not look back at Finnur, for he has already begun calculating his strategy at fighting the big man. A few score times Arngierr has crossed practice blades with Finnur. A few score times Arngierr has walked away bruised and bloodied. Not once in all of his practice has he ever been able to land a solid blow against Finnur. Undaunted by this, Arngierr knows he will challenge the large warrior to a practice duel and lose. The apprentice shaman's mind begins to wander as he steps up to the practice ring. As he begins to stretch and loosen his muscles, his thoughts return to this morning's magical practice. Absently, Arngierr begins to concentrate on the flow of magical power that surrounds him. Knowing that he must first master the energies within, Arngierr casts his focus inward. He can feel the energy there, but that is all he can do -feel. Finaly feeling ready, Arngierr grabs a wooden practice sword. He turns to face Finnur. "Greetings on this day, Finnur, son of Jökul! Do you wish to step into the ring with me?" Arngierr tries his best at the mocking tone usually thrown around by warriors. His attempt fails, and his request sounds more like a plea than a threat.[R4E]remove speach color[/R4E] Edited by Arngierr Hergiersson, Apr 19 2009, 03:01 AM.
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| Finnur Jökulsson | Mar 30 2009, 12:03 PM Post #4 |
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dreng
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Finnur takes a moment to observe Arngierr. His posture leaves too many openings to count. His hands are shaking and he is visibly trying to stop them. Small beads of sweat have formed on his brow. Still, there is something electric in the air around him, some sort of unseen power that marks him as a formidable opponent. "You stand as though you have already accepted the loss. Do no think of me as a fellow clansman. I am an opponent. On the battlefield you never want to show weakness. You are not weak Arngierr. I know this. Everyone knows this. Do you?" Finnur looks at his practice sword and tosses it aside, then looks to Arngierr's sword as though asking him to do the same. He reaches down, grabs a bit of earth and rubs in between his hands. "Ready?" |
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character info character inventory -- current threads -- The Grey Spear Clan  - Blackrock Sword - Leather Helm  - Leather Chest  - Leather Arms - Leather Leggings  - Leather Gauntlets  - Leather Boots
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| Arngierr Hergiersson | Mar 30 2009, 02:11 PM Post #5 |
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Apprentice
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Arngierr keeps his expression calm, though he feels a slight smile cross his face. Not one of laughter, but of great respect for Finnur. Arngierr is certain that this man will be the greatest of the Grey Spear warriors. The apprentice shaman casts aside the wooden practice sword, and likewise grabs a bit of earth to cleanse his hands of oil and sweat. As he feels the grains of earth against his bare palms, Arngierr concentrates on the raw power contained in the small amount of soil. Keeping his eyes on his opponent, Arngierr lets the magical power flow through his body. Without a word, Arngierr throws his body forward with all the strentgh he can muster. He knows that a prolonged wrestling match favors the larger man. To win, the apprentice must finish the fight quickly. He lunges forward, leading with his right shoulder -hoping to catch Finnnur's chin. With all of his concentration on the attack, Arngierr is not aware that the soil on his hands has begun to steam rapidly. Edited by Arngierr Hergiersson, Mar 30 2009, 02:24 PM.
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| Finnur Jökulsson | Mar 30 2009, 02:46 PM Post #6 |
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dreng
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Arngierr moved faster than Finnur expected. The warrior was barely able to adjust his position to avoid being struck full force in the chin. The apprentice's shoulder impacted Finnur's collarbone and he had to take several steps back to avoid being knocked over. He could feel the heat that emanated from Arngierr's body, surrounding him in a haze. Finnur's warrior training took hold as he immediately dropped low to catch hold of the man's legs with his great arms and attempt to flip him on his back. Touching Arngierr felt like plunging your body into fire, but Finnur fought through it. A formidable opponent indeed. |
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character info character inventory -- current threads -- The Grey Spear Clan - Blackrock Sword - Leather Helm - Leather Chest - Leather Arms - Leather Leggings - Leather Gauntlets - Leather Boots
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| Arngierr Hergiersson | Mar 30 2009, 03:06 PM Post #7 |
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Apprentice
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Arngierr shudders at the impact, and pushes angainst Finnur with all of his might. He feels the warrior drop low to grab his legs. Arngierr tries to wrestle free, but his mind has become too distracted. As his body is lifted into the air, the apprentice shaman has become all too aware that something is terribly wrong. He falls flat on his back with all of the force that Finnur put against him. Though his body bruises, his mind is far from anyplace that can feel the pain. Arngierr has, for the first time, felt the magical power within him, and he struggles hard to keep the power contained. His body writhes on the ground as his will is nearly consumed in the internal flame. Somehow, he is able to recall his training with the Grey Spear Shaman. Since the heat is within, Arngierr focuses on the cold ice surrounding him. He draws that power in to cool his body. An eternity seems to pass, though not more than a minute later, Arngierr stands. He now stands on muddy ground, in a small pool created by the sudden melting of the snow. None around him would know what had happened to him, for a shaman's gift is seldom discussed with members of the clan. With the internal magic contained, Arngierr suddenly feels the pain from Finnur's throw. Not knowing what to do or say, Arngierr merely turns and walks away...fully expecting the taunts from the clan warriors as he does so. Edited by Arngierr Hergiersson, Mar 30 2009, 03:08 PM.
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| Finnur Jökulsson | Mar 31 2009, 12:59 AM Post #8 |
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dreng
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Finnur's fellow warriors had approached the ring, hoping to witness a good match. Once Arngierr walked away, the jeers started. "Little man can only stand a single blow," "Better go crawl back into your mother's womb." Finnur shot them a look to shut them up and they complied. He jogged forward to catch up with Arngierr. "What say you man?" Finnur asked. He was wholly unfamiliar with magic and had no clue what Arngierr had been taught by the shaman. Looking down at his arms, they were still red and the bitter cold stung at them. "What happened there in the ring? I tell you I could not stand that heat much longer. It will be some time before I think to challenge you again." |
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character info character inventory -- current threads -- The Grey Spear Clan - Blackrock Sword - Leather Helm - Leather Chest - Leather Arms - Leather Leggings - Leather Gauntlets - Leather Boots
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| Arngierr Hergiersson | Mar 31 2009, 10:03 AM Post #9 |
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Apprentice
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Arngierr continues to walk as he ponders how exactly to address Finnur's question. After a few moments, Arngierr finally speaks. "A warrior that looses control goes berserk. In this state the warrior is possesed by a power much greater than normal. While touched by the gods in this way, a warrior can kill many opponents." Arngierr's voice is detached and distant. "A shaman can also loose control; but unlike the warrior, a shaman brings the greatest risk to himself. That is what happened back there. I focused too greatly on you, as my opponent, and lost control of the magical powers within me. I am not well trained enough to know exactly what happened. I feel that if I had not regained control, I would have surely died...possibly you as well." Arngierr notices the redness on Finnur's arms, yet does not appologize. To do so would be too great an insult to the warrior. The apprentice hopes that his explination of what happened in thier match had not already offended the man. Of all of the clan warriors, Arngierr holds the greatest respect for the mighty Finnur. Arngierr shudders at his next thought. "To have died in such a way, would our souls have gone to meet our proud dead in the Hall of the Gods, or would they have wandered the wastes in shame?" [R4E]remove speach color[/R4E] Edited by Arngierr Hergiersson, Apr 19 2009, 03:03 AM.
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| Finnur Jökulsson | Apr 4 2009, 12:14 AM Post #10 |
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dreng
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Finnur had never considered death to be anything less than glorious. Surely Arngierr could be right in this. Dying due to a lack of self-control could mean not making it to the eternal battlefields in the heavens. An important lesson for both men to learn. "Sounds like a question for your master." Finnur said smiling. He reached out and clasped arms with Arngierr. "We have different paths, and yours takes considerably more strength than mine. Time will come when these fools," Finnur motions towards the other drengs, "look to you for guidance. Surely respect is the hardest thing to earn in this clan, but once you have it we will follow you to the ends of the earth." Finnur wondered to himself how far off the role of Shaman was for Arngierr, or that of war chief for himself. While both men had different paths, they shared a fate, to become leaders of this clan. It was not spoken aloud and certainly was not taken for granted, but it was apparent that Finnur and Arngierr were being groomed for something greater. "Good day to you Arngierr." With that, Finnur set off in the direction of the sweat lodge to do something he had not tried in many years, meditation and prayer. He wanted to reflect on the change that came over him this morning and ask the gods for guidance on this new road. |
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character info character inventory -- current threads -- The Grey Spear Clan - Blackrock Sword - Leather Helm - Leather Chest - Leather Arms - Leather Leggings - Leather Gauntlets - Leather Boots
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| Arngierr Hergiersson | Apr 6 2009, 03:53 AM Post #11 |
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Apprentice
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"I shall see you in the Meadhall tonight." Arngierr says as he grasps Finnur's arm. " We shall see if you can handle a drinking horn nearly as well as you throw people around." Arngierr accents the last remark with a smile. He turns and heads back to the Shaman's longhouse. As is typical, when Arngierr arrives the Shaman is awake and preparing the morning's breakfast. The smell of the reindeer sausage awakens the young apprentice's appetite. Arngierr hangs his thick purple cloak by the door, and bids good morning to the Shaman and his wife. Without looking up, the Shaman responds. "Had a bit of trouble this morning?" The Shaman's words are direct and without merryment. "I felt a great power building by the practice grounds. You can tell me about it as you eat." The Shaman of the Grey Spear Clan is a large and imposing man. He stands well over six feet. Like all Grey Spears, the Shaman is built like a mountain, and nearly as hard as one. Arngierr washes his face and hands, grabs some sausages, and sits. He tells the Shaman what had happened at the practice field. As he relays the story, the Shaman shakes his head in disappointment. Finally, after Arngierr finishes, the Shaman stares intently at the apprentice. "You survived a dangerous ordeal. You will be very strong in magic. You must never again draw power from the natural world into you. It is dangerous. You must learn to control your internal power with your will alone. To do otherwise can fill you with too much power for your body to handle. We will speak more on this later." The Shaman rises and prepares for the day's work ahead. Argierr follows suit. The apprentice is confused about drawing power into himself. He finds the thought distracting. As he goes about his day, Arngierr thinks more and more of his battle with Finnur. He finds himself looking forward to meeting the warrior in the Meadhall.[R4E]remove speach color[/R4E] |
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| Finnur Jökulsson | Apr 7 2009, 12:18 AM Post #12 |
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dreng
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As Finnur opened the door to the sweat lodge a blast of steam escaped. Someone was already inside at such an early hour. Finnur removed his armor and his clothes, piling them near the door. He entered the lodge, but at first could not make out who else was there. After a moment, some of the steam cleared away and Finnur saw a man he thought dead for five years. Runólfur could have been war chief, had he not vanished before being advanced. One day the clan leaders are singing his praises and the next day he is gone. The current war chief was given the post instead and his first duty was to lead a party to find where Runólfur had gone. Finnur was part of this group; it was his first task as a warrior in training. They found no trace of the man. Now Runólfur appears just as suddenly. "Finnur? You have grown into quite the man. I'll bet the girls line up by your door." Runólfur reached out an arm and Finnur clasped it firmly, trying to hide his embarrassment. "Surely you are a dreng, or have they made you šegn yet?" "I have been a dreng two years. War chief Einar will promote me when he feels I am ready." Finnur sat on the bench facing Runólfur. The man looked exactly as Finnur remembered him, save for a bit of wildness in the eyes. "I have to ask, where have you been?" Runólfur gave a big smile and took his time to answer. "Do you know what the Grey Spear Clan's biggest flaw is?" Finnur could not help but look around to see if anyone was listening, even though he knew they were alone. This question was blasphemous to Finnur and possibly treasonous as far as the clan was concerned. The warrior dared not give an answer, or even acknowledge the question. It did not matter, Runólfur's question was rhetorical and he continued without provocation. "No one has been outside of the Northern Lands. Very few have stepped foot outside of the Outlands. There is an entire world out there and it is completely different from this one. We, as a clan, hold tradition too dear. The harsh conditions of our homeland and constant warring with our neighboring clans require a focus on survival, leaving little room for exploration and innovation. It is not this way elsewhere. I have seen vast cities, surely you have heard of a city, containing thousands upon thousands of people. There are areas in this world of such surpassing beauty it nearly made me weep, creatures that our kind have never seen. The Grey Spear Clan needs to learn of these things if they wish to grow. Otherwise, we will be swallowed up by a world we refused to acknowledge." Finnur was stunned. To think of life outside of the clan felt like treachery. Still there was wisdom in what Runólfur said. Finnur said nothing and the old warrior followed suit. Finnur poured a cupful of water onto the hot rock and the lodge filled with steam once more. Now Runólfur was just a vague shape. Finnur sat back, lost in his thoughts. |
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character info character inventory -- current threads -- The Grey Spear Clan - Blackrock Sword - Leather Helm - Leather Chest - Leather Arms - Leather Leggings - Leather Gauntlets - Leather Boots
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| Arngierr Hergiersson | Apr 9 2009, 12:04 PM Post #13 |
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Apprentice
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Arngierr finishes his duties to the Shaman for the day, which included plenty of woodcutting. Arngierr has always enjoyed the simple exertion of chopping wood. After stacking the newly hewn logs, the apprentice Shaman cleans up and changes into his thick black tunic. He dons his purple cloak and makes his way to the center of the villiage. The population of the village is typically 100 men, women, and children. It does not appear on any known maps -in part because the village has no name. None but Grey Spears inhabit the small village; to them it is simply home. Being so far from any other setlements, the Grey Spear village rarely recieves outside visitors. Those few traders that would dare to trek across so much frozen wilderness are not particularly welcome when they arrive. Often times, outsiders find themselves at the loosing end of a duel -typicaly brought on by an unknown breach of custom. Among the Great Clans of the north (the Grey Spears, Wulf Spears, Iron Moon, Elk Hearts, and Ice Bears), the Grey Spears are the only clan to have left the nomadic lifestyle. Their small village is well defended, complete with a palisade wall. The other tribes, particularly the ferocious Wulf Spear clan, raid often. The Meadhall is a large round building that makes up the center of town. It was designed to hold at least 200 people. In the center of the meadhall is a great hearth which provides warmth, and cook-fire to all who enter. Seldom does any Grey Spear have their supper any place other than the meadhall. Arngierr enters and imediately heads to one of the large casks of mead along the wall. He fills his silver-tipped horn full of the golden liquid, and drains it into his longing belly. He fills his horn again, then turns to find a place to sit for the evening meal. He is greeted by those he passes, even the warriors that made fun of him in the morning greet him as an equal here. Not seeing Finnur among those that have yet arrived, Arngierr sits at an empty table, grabbing a handfull of acorn bread as he does so. The smell of venison overwelms him -the hunters were fortunate this day. Arngierr smiles "Today we shall have meat!" He holds his drinking horn in high salute to Byrnjolf, hunting chief. Byrnjolf tries to return the salute, but has already had more than enough mead. The great hunter spills mead all over the place. [R4E]remove speech color[/R4E] Edited by Arngierr Hergiersson, Apr 19 2009, 03:08 AM.
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| Finnur Jökulsson | Apr 12 2009, 01:05 AM Post #14 |
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dreng
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From the time he left the steam lodge to the time he entered the meadhall, Finnur felt as though he were floating outside of his own body. Others took note of his distraction and called him out on it, but he could only focus for short periods, then he was lost in thought again. Runólfur's words plagued him and he felt like a fool for not considering what life would be like away from the Outlands before. If Runólfur were to be believed, and what reason would he have for lying, then it put the small village of the Grey Spear Clan in perspective. Cities with thousands of people, who would live in such places? If not war and surviving, what did they concern themselves with? Outside of the meadhall, Finnur was reminded of the short match against Arngierr earlier that morning. More perspective, nearly too much in one day for Finnur to handle. He took a deep breath and tried to banish all of these thoughts. There was the smell of meat coming from inside, the hunters were fortunate. Finnur was surprised as a fellow dreng clapped him on the back and asked, "Are you going in, or are you guarding the door?" Upon entering, Finnur scanned the room and spotted Arngierr, but no sign of Runólfur. He went over to the shaman's apprentice, pulling out his drinking horn on the way. "Spare some of that mead?" he asked holding the horn forward. |
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character info character inventory -- current threads -- The Grey Spear Clan - Blackrock Sword - Leather Helm - Leather Chest - Leather Arms - Leather Leggings - Leather Gauntlets - Leather Boots
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| Arngierr Hergiersson | Apr 13 2009, 01:52 PM Post #15 |
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Apprentice
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Arngierr smiles broadly as he sees Finnur. He tips his horn forward, puring some of the drink into Finnur's drinking horn. "Careful, that is not the children's mead." Arngierr laughs loudly at his own taunt. Clearly, the apprentice had already had several horns full. "Come now, let us see if your belly is as strong as you arms!" Though he is outwardly jovial, the apprentice's mind is heavy with the events of the day. Though he had managed to finally touch the raw magical power of nature, the episode nearly killed him. Arngierr shakes the thoughts away by literally shaking his head from side to side. He takes a long look at Finnur. "You look troubled. Surely you do not think I will seek revenge from this morning!" Arngierr bursts out in another laugh, while he stands. He wraps his arm around Finnur's neck. "Come friend, there is meat and mead to be had. Then we can sit and tell eachother our woes!" Edited by Arngierr Hergiersson, Apr 19 2009, 03:09 AM.
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