Hello! My name is NorwayFOO but you can call me Norway, Nor, Foo, or really whatever you want. I'm new to GMing so I would love for people to give me suggestions and point out anything you might consider a mistake. Please feel free to ask questions and what not. I really look forward to RPing with you all! Lost Hope: Return of Dragon's Talon | IwakuRoleplay.com Intro "It's been, what... thirty years since then? Yeah, something like that. At that time I was revealed she got away, I didn't want to see any more deaths. Especially not my former comrade." He sighed, leaning back on a rickety old stool and resting his arm on a dull old wooden counter. He ran his finger along it and frowned seeing how dusty it was. Really, whoever owned this bar clearly didn't care much for it. "Little did I know that wasn't the end of the battle." Finally the old drunk weaving his story picked up the mug that was placed before him wondering if today would be the day he quit drinking. To be perfectly honest the cup he was holding was in horrible condition. There was a couple nicks on one side of the rim and a large scratch running along the majority of it. The drink in the cup looked even less desirable but somehow he still managed to give in and he took a swig. He had seemed to have forgotten he was even telling his story until he looked up from his drink and noticed the two other patrons staring at him. He cleared his throat, "I had just killed a man I had looked up to for the longest time. The idiot was siding with a terrorist organization and completely disregarded the military that built him into the hero he was." Although a hint of sadness shown in the mans eyes his face only held anger. His fist tightened around the glass as he continued, "That man had saved countless people, countless villages, countless... everything. He was a man of principle, he was the sword of justice. I had been put into his squad when I was just starting out, it was like a dream come true. He taught me everything I needed to know, he watched my back as I grew into a warrior and at some point I had grown enough to be able to cover his. It was glorious. Teacher and student standing back to back," his facial expression lightened as he recalled a time when he could fight next to his hero but it didn't last, "Idiot!" his sudden outburst made a young waitress, whom at that point was taking orders a few tables away, jump. "He might as well have put a dagger in the back of everyone he saved!" Tears showed up in the old drunks eyes and he started to sob and he threw his head against the table, "If only I had known." The drunk quickly sat up and finished off his drink and stood to leave, however, before he could make it more than two steps he fell to the floor. The two patrons looked at each other confused before the bar tender stepped forward and picked up the now empty glass. "That wasn't his first drink. He'll wake up in a few hours and go home, always does." One of the patrons, a young girl whom held a glass of juice in her hand looked up at him, "It's a shame, I really wanted to hear his story." The bartender couldn't help but chuckle, "I've heard his story so many times, perhaps I can fill in the blanks." He leaned forward on the bar as he ran a rag along a mug, "You may not realize it, but this man was part of a group known as 'Dragon's Talon.' A special unit in the military that took on impossible tasks and came back alive." He noticed the girls doubtful look but continued to talk anyways, "He may not look like much now, but thirty years ago this man had enough strength to take on the entirety of the royal guard." He cleared his throat, "Anways, after Dragon's Talon attacked the Capital he turned his blade against Dragon's Talon, his former comrades. I'm sure you've only heard that 'by some luck' only half the Capital was burned to the ground. It wasn't, 'by some luck' it was this man who single-handedly drove them back." The girl looked down at the old drunk passed out on the floor with a disapproving look, "Let me get this straight, Dragon's Talon only accepted the elite. People who had the destructive force of a dragons sharp talon, which is how they got their name. Every member would find it easy to crush a stone wall with a single thrust of their sword. You're saying he single-handedly took them all on at the same time?" Her icy gaze met the bartender's, "The only person who could manage that would be the legendary Dragon Slayer and no one is even sure he exists." A rupture of laughter rose from the bartenders throat, "That's true." He couldn't help but laugh, he had seen this reaction countless times, but somehow her's really got him, "The legend of the Dragon Slayer popped up shortly after the events of Last Hope. When the citizens realized that somehow Dragon's Talon was forced to retreat they rejoiced. Sure half of the Capital was unrecognizable, damaged far beyond repair, but somehow Dragon's Talon was stopped. They found three of the members dead and proposed two of them had escaped. As for how they were stopped, well that's why the King could only use the term, by some luck." "Wait," the girl said puzzled, "Assuming you're not just weaving some story, he said 'Little did I know that wasn't the end of the battle.' but no one has seen or even heard from Dragon's Talon since the event's of Last Hope." The bartender could only shrug, "This is the first night he's mentioned that..." Fin You are a strong and talented young warrior however you weren't expecting this. You have been suddenly summoned by the Queen. You weren't told why, only that it was urgent. The only clue you were given was the title of letter, 'Lost Hope'. Some of you may be worried, other excited, some may not even bat an eye, however, whether out of a sense of duty, fear, or simply because it may be entertaining, you all show up. That, my friends, is where our story begins. CS Image: Name: Gender: Age: (18-22) Height: Weight: Appearance: (Yes, I expect you to verbally describe your character even though you already have posted an image) Personality: Background: Skills: Weakness: (One weakness per skill) Rules 1. Use real or realistic images only 2. Be respectful towards everyone OOC 3. Minimum post length of two paragraphs 4. I expect the bare minimum of 1 post a week 5. Two posts (from different RPer's) must be between each individual post 6. Orange must be somewhere in the character sheet to prove you read the rules 7. There is a limit of 10 characters in this RP! 8. Multiple characters are aloud 9. I have the final say on all content in this RP 10. I reserve the right to change the rules at any time 11. Have fun! Nori Inara Aurel Arden Caela Baldur Name: Nori LightSeer Gender: Male Age: 19 Height: 5'2" Weight: 140 Appearance: Nori, though looks like a young seventeen year old female, is actually a 19 year old male. He has long unkept orange hair, and green eyes. Nori tends to wear a more serious look when out in public and tries to keep smiling to a minimum. Other than that he has a rather tone body and if you look closely at his hands you can tell they are calloused from extensive training. Nori has the 'pierced ears of the warrior', a tradition of the LightSeer family. Nori, despite belonging to a royal bloodline, does not wear fancy clothing. He prefers to wear light chain mail over some padded cloth, dark martial art's pants which are tied at the ankle (so the cloth wouldn't flap around) and a cloak to conceal all that is underneath. He also keeps weapons on him at all times. It wouldn't be uncommon to find a sword in his belt, a bow on his back, and a knife in his boot. Personality: Nori is a fairly serious person who wears an expression that wards people away. He grew up most of his life being mistaken for a girl and always felt awkward trying to explain to people that, despite his feminine appearance, he was actually a guy... especially when it was another male trying to hit on him. If you get past his cold exterior you'll find a slightly shy almost childish being. Unlike most noble warriors whom fight 'fair and square', Nori doesn't think any tactic too low for him to use. He believes one should use everything at his disposal in order to increase their chance of survival; after all it's the one standing at the end of the fight who is the victor, no mater what tactics they use. He prioritizes speed over power and holds to the saying, 'he who strikes first wins.' Background: Nori is a member of the LightSeer clan. They are known for almost always having at least one mage in every generation and the magic that they pursue has to do with seeing the future. Nori's clan has been serving under the Royal family since the start of the kingdom. Unfortunately the LightSeer clan hasn't produced a single mage in three generations and now are unable to provide the Royal family with anything of value. When Nori was born he was thought to be a child of great magical power. They had announced to the King himself that this generations mage had been born and a festival followed. On Nori's fifth birthday his magical power had suddenly vanish, leaving his father in a difficult situation and overall it disgraced his family. On that day, while surrounded by deserts, colorful decorations and games of all sorts there wasn't a single smile. Tears filled the eyes of all his family and when he inquired why they just turned their heads and left. He was confused, but life went on. His father, in hope to save face, started to train him in combat techniques. Instead of providing the queen with a Seer they would present a capable warrior. The Lightseer clan was losing its reputation and his father was worried about losing the noble title. Honestly the only reason they still had it was to honor the Lightseer family for what they had done in the past... however that would only go so far. If he could provided a warrior on pair with the former members of Dragon's Talon then they would be sure to keep the noble name. Skills: Expert Archer Adept Swordsman Crafty Cooking Nimble Weakness: Cold Personality/Socially awkward Little upper body strength Can't stand the cold Fear of Insects Self-conscious of his appearance Name: Inara Cameri (the ‘r’ in Cameri has a slight roll to it) Gender: Female Age: 20 Height: 4 foot 10 inches Weight: 100 pounds Appearance: Inara is a sweet young woman blessed with all of nature’s goodness. Her deep blue (almost black) eyes can make any man swoon, and her full lips pulled into a smile-- more often a smirk-- combined with her mid-back length light brown hair framing her face can make anyone's heart melt. Standing at little under 5 feet, Inara is short both in stature and in frame, and light at 100 pounds. What she lacks in fat, she makes up for in muscle. She may look small, but she is unbelievably strong. The sword in the picture is smaller than it actually is, Inara's sword is longer, and more deadly, but with similar engravings. Personality: Inara is a sweet young woman, but she is also very reserved. A smile is ready to her face, but it’s not often a ‘real’ or full smile; more like an amused smile or an acknowledgement. She has a unique sense of humor, and most others find it odd. She does like to mingle with people, and so she talks a lot. But just because one talks a lot doesn’t mean they give away everything…she knows how to keep stuff to herself, and most often does just that. She likes to bridge distances between people, some have called on her to intermediate in a fight between friends. She has a tendency of drawing some people together. But may all be warned, if you get on her bad side….just don’t, okay? If you piss her off she is quick to act and slow to think, and her actions are often what you least expect, so be careful. She always does what she believes to be right, consequences be darned. She honestly does try to see the best people, but sometimes all she can do is analyze. Background: Inara has a tragic past. She doesn’t like to discuss it…but since you ask so nicely, she’s willing to make an exception. She was born to a blacksmith and a seamstress. That’s all she knows. They were both murdered by an invading army aiming to get closer to the royal family when she was only a year. The only thing she has left from her father is her sword. Her mother left her a ring that she wears on the middle finger of her right hand. For Inara, keeping these items close felt like she had a part of her parents with her as she suffered through life. Since her parents died, she spent several years in the orphanage. When she was five years old, she got fed up and ran away. She stole the things the orphanage had taken from her (her sword) back and walked out the front door when everyone was asleep. Living on the streets was hard, but it was actually a step up from the orphanage; there the children picked on her for being so small, and whenever she tried to defend herself she got into trouble. She spent most nights under a bridge, curled in a ball to try to stay warm. She often managed to earn enough for a small bit of bread in the evening by begging. Fortunately, she only had to be on the streets for a few months before a middle aged blacksmith felt sorry for her and took her in under his wing. It didn’t take long for them both to fall in love with each other, in a father/daughter relationship kind of way at least. He became the father she never had and she became the daughter he never had. He trained her in the arts of the smithy. He helped her to repair the damaged armor that the orphanage had damaged, even improving it slightly. Roran was kind, caring and had a gentle spirit about him. He was also an expert swordsman, having served the royal family in his glory years. He had almost made it into the Dragon’s Talon, but barely missed it. His trainer was in the Talon, though, so he learned all sorts of skills form him. He passed this knowledge onto his daughter. Inara, a born natural, quickly picked up the skill and quickly became the best swordswoman he had ever seen. They spent the majority of her life with the man she now called father. They had 13 wonderful, beautiful, loving years together. They acted like any father and daughter would, delighting in each others company, loving each other…until two years ago. Two years ago bandits raided their village. Her father, being the hero he always wanted to be, went out to fight them, and she was by his side with her birth fathers sword in hand. Unfortunately, Roran wasn’t as young as he used to be, and therefore he was slower than he used to be. Too slow for one of the bandits, the bandit slid his sword right between his ribs. Roran collapsed in a heap. Screaming as her heart ripped in two, Inara charged the bandit that had dealt the fatal blow to her adopted father. After a very short fight, she slipped past his defenses easily and ended his life. She fought her way through the dozen bandits left and escaped with only a scratch on her arm that would likely need stitches. It’s often amazing what adrenaline combined with rage and grief can do to a person… Sprinting back to where Roran lay, she fell to his side squeezing his hand. Roran looked at her as blood drooled from the corner of his mouth. He lifted a hand to her face, and caressed it one last time as he breathed his last breath. Sobbing as her father’s hand went limp and fell from her face, she sheathed her sword and picked her father’s body up, laying him gently down on his cot that her neighbors had so kindly brought out for her when they saw what happened. She lay him on the cot, and started to clean his face, his clothes. She was preparing him for a proper sendoff. Silent tears flowing as she set fire to his body, she leaned into her neighbors embrace. As she struggled through the grief of Roran’s death, she ran the smithy almost better than he had. She had perfected the armor that he had made her, and made weapons for anyone who needed them. She only recently received the letter, and decided she would go, knowing it would be what Roran would have wanted. Skills: -Inara is an amazing swordsman. She learned from the best, and henceforth became the best. She often singlehandedly defeated many skilled swordsman who tried to pillage her village. She trained from someone who claimed to be trained by someone in said force declared in the letter. -Inara is good at negotiations, seeing as she likes to draw people together, this is naturally one of her talents. -Some new ones will be discovered throughout the RP, Inara does not like to disclose all her secrets to total strangers; I mean, who does? Weakness: -Inara has a dominant side, as most fighters do (her right side). If her right side gets crippled or injured somehow, she’s practically useless. She is currently trying to get her left side up to par, but it’s a long and difficult trial. -Inara, unfortunately, is not the best at stealth, even with her smallness. She is one of the clumsiest people on the planet when she is not fighting with her sword. -Likewise with the skills, some more weaknesses will be revealed throughout the RP. Other: She hates the color orange as it makes her appear sickly. Name: Aurel Matthäus Leon von Morgenstern Gender: Male Age: 22 Height: 193 cm Weight: 70 kg Appearance: conventionally good looking face with bright blue eyes and strong lips on soft features, muscular built always in an elegantly relaxed poise that exudes strong self-confidence, accommodating expression Personality: optimistic, friendly and approachable, curious and rather inquisitive, quick to temper but also quick to forgive, fiercely chivalrous, easily amazed, sort of innocent, can come off as arrogant Background: The King of Chrysos was a bachelor until well into his late thirties, but married a miller's daughter much to the everyone's shock. Through her kindness and devotion to the poor, she became well-loved and when Aurel was born, he became the symbol of peace between the classes. Aurel was as ambitious as his father but as compassionate as his mother and was kept in their castle at all times to keep him from wandering about too often. As a result, he's quite clueless about other people's lives but he was taught to treat everyone equally and learned to love listening to their life stories. At 13 he was made ward at the queen's court to train in swordsmanship, horse riding and other things a young heir must learn. Although not training for knighthood, he strove to perfect his skills in combat and does fairly well in both battles and strategy. Skills: Basic Weaponry (sword, spear, mace and bow) Horse Riding Basic Survival (using various medicinal plants, geography) Weakness: somewhat near-sighted not very agile kind of clueless about others Arden Redhawk Gender: Male Age: 22 Height: 175cm Weight: 90kg Appearance: Arden isn't particularly tall, standing at about 175cm in height. His hair is chocolate brown and combed neatly. His body is lean and but muscular, someone who trains well and eats well though is not beyond in some indulgences. He is clean shaven most of the time, with the exception of sideburns, though a stubble is not uncommon. His eyes are the color of shiny copper and his face of someone who smiles often, or at least smirks. His attire is a mixture of comfort and protection. Leather outfit fitted with mail for slash protection and a loose shirt, his neck and collarbone rather exposed though that just adds to the danger of combat. At his hip he carries a shiny and sharp edged rapier, light and deadly in his hand along with a few daggers, a stiletto dagger which he carries with him at all times, a parrying dagger and a trident dagger. He also carries almost always five smaller knives which he throws for distraction. At his back he carries a finely crafted string instrument which he often takes with him to taverns and bars to earn coin and bed companion or two. On his person is also a pair of recorders which he can play separately or both simultaneously. Personality: Initially Redhawk is charming and chummy though may come off as rather arrogant and full of himself. He is very confident however with his musical, battle and just his general prowess in things he believes he excels at. He is however always aware who is number one and that is himself. He may spare a second thought to throw someone off a cliff it meant his own life and fortune was on the line but only barely. He fits best in an urban environment rather than out in the wild though he has enough survival skills to make it a couple of weeks on his own. He will never consider himself a thief though his practiced hands may find themselves purloining a coin purse or three when he is down on his luck and if he sees something of modicum value and won't be missed, it may find its way into his pocket. Though he may agree to a duel and fancies himself a duelist he will always try to make sure to be the one on top at the end and resort to dirty tricks when he sees fit. One of which is a napkin filled with partially powdered glass which he may throw into his opponent's eyes, a nasty dishonorable act which he cares little about as long as he is alive. When it comes to fistfights, studded or plated gloves are great to keep the brawl short. His favorite color is Indigo and is favorite animals are hawks. One of his favorite fruits are fresh oranges. Background: Arden is not a complicated man nor did he have a complicated past. He wasn't born as a street rat or within a former noble house. He is not an heir to a lost throne or treasure. He was born to a middle class tailor and with the promise of a good life. His mother, Rosaline, raised him as his father left her before Arden was born in search of knowledge of something. Arden stopped caring and expecting a decent father figure after he reached his twelfth winter. It was him and his mother for a while but Arden was often bored and liked to go out even when he was a child. The city streets held far more interest than studying with his hired tutor, a friend of Rosaline named Victor. Arden drove the man crazy as he often disobeyed and gave him lip. The only time they got along was when Victor saw Arden, at the age of eleven at the time, held a stick in a mock dueling stance and swinging at an imaginary adversary. Victor was an enthusiast and though that this would be a good way to get Arden to study by adding fencing lessons. Arden learned fencing to that day and quite a natural at swordsmanship when it came to light blades. He stayed somewhat out of trouble after that but returned when he was completely literate and even knew a few other languages which he learned through Victor's music lessons which he admittedly enjoyed just not in the Victor's company so when he got the basics down he deviated to pave his own path. As Arden got older into early adulthood Arden went more often to the streets, armed with nothing but his wits and his lute to make coin as he did not want to become a tailor though he did catch some skill in it after being forced early on in his childhood to become his mother's apprentice. Taverns were his main target, avoiding a street performance and a crowded tavern was far easier for his sticky fingers. He also set on his own and took up the name Redhawk and abandoning his actual name. At the age of eighteen Arden ran a foul with a local hot head after bedding with a girl he fancied and was challenged to a duel. The hot head was of almost noble birth as his father was a wealthy merchant. Arden did not own a sword to call his own so he was handed one, a rusty old pole to be generous about it but years of practicing and honing his skill made Arden more than a match of the hot head who carried his sword more for show than anything else. Arden bested him and claimed the sword which was masterly crafted by someone who both loved his craft and was paid a pretty coin for it. With that started his back alley dueling career, taking the money from the losers and whoever bet against him. When he reached twenty, he was traveling along the roads alone when he came upon a lone caravan beset by a trio of bandits. For a rare kindness of Arden's heart he assisted the caravan, dispatching the brutes neatly and thoroughly. The caravan, owned by an old coot, did not own much either way but refused to let the act of kindness go unrewarded. The coot gave Arden a wicker cage housing a reddish brown young hawk. A few command words from the coot and the hawk stayed with Arden who took a fancy to the bird and has been with him ever since as a companion and a deadly weapon. No one likes it when a hawk starts to claw at your face in middle of combat after all. Skills: Master Duelist Talented Minstrel Silver Tongued Devil Fleet footed Slight-o-hand Falconry Enthusiast Weakness: Cocky In debt* Anti-Authoritarian behavior Dishonorable** Sticky Fingers*** Wise Ass Swift over Strength**** *He has quite a large debt with many criminal undergrounds after his attempts of becoming a professional gambler along with his dueling career. He has angered many of such group and many would like his head on a platter. ** He sees no problem in cheating and lying to get his way *** Somewhat of a kleptomaniac **** His style is that of swiftness so a strong strike from someone who surpasses him in strength, if it strikes true, can be quite devastating. Caela Alanesta (first name pronounced Kie-lah, said with a bit of a Gaelic accent) Gender: Female Age: 18 Height: 5”4’ Weight: 125 lbs Appearance: Caela has a fair complexion, as most redheads do. Her fiery red hair, bursting with color, compliments her vivid green eyes very well; and it often turns the head of anyone, man or woman, walking past her. (Most of the women are envious of her beauty, while the men…well, I don’t need to go into detail about that…). She has full lips with a set of teeth that are just a shade less than perfect. Standing at just over five foot, and weighing in at about 120 pounds, Caela is average in stature and frame. Personality: Caela has a personality to match her hair: Fiery. This sassy, spunky redhead has a wit that can dull the sharpest sword. She acts more like a tomboy than a lady, and is often criticized for it. She doesn’t see why so many rules are forced on women, and she doesn’t abide by them. While she is young, she is wise beyond her age and she gets very frustrated when people don’t take her seriously. Often times you will see her with a smirk on her face as she sneers at someone. Most people write her off as young and un-experienced. She plays that to its full potential. She uses her innocent looking self to get what she wants, and has often been hired by local lords to penetrate into their enemies’ camps. The rest of her personality will be played out in the RP; I’m not good at putting what I imagine her being like into words. She’s often seen with two her two daggers: Eithne (Gaelic for little fire) is the orange/amber accented dagger, and Eis (German for ice) is the one you see pictured in the image. (Ignore the screaming figure in the reflection on the knife, it’s not real. They're also a little longer, a mix between a dagger and a shortsword). Background: Caela’s father, a handsome man who goes by the name of Aragorn, is a former Lord of the kingdom of Elswilm; unfortunately, some things that were out of his control happened and he was dismissed, as well as disgraced. The King at the time didn’t want to dismiss one of his most faithful lords, but due to factors that he couldn’t dismiss, his hand was forced. While Caela has her father’s smile, she really gets her looks from her mother, Annabelle. But that’s where their similarities end. Belle thinks Caele needs to act more like a lady if they are to get back in the crowns favor once more. Caela never took to the strict guidelines to be a ‘proper lady’ even when she was little. She found them too restrictive, and relished the freedom that her father allowed her. Aragorn noticed that Caela’s personality was taking after his own, young, ambitious…she would go far places, and he allowed her room to act freely, at least when it was reasonable. He did have a few rules, and Caela adhered to them. Caela was often found chilling with a group of guys. He taught Caela how to fight against Belle’s wishes. He claimed that any child of his, male or female, would learn how to defend themselves, whether it was ladylike or not. Caela was a natural….she loved the feeling of Eithne and Eis in her hands, they were perfect for her. As she got better and better with the daggers, her dad introduced her to the art of throwing. Soon enough, any knife she threw would hit its mark.Soon enough, local lords noticed her skill, and asked her father if they could use her as a spy. Caela flourished in this field, she loved it. When she was 16, her mother fell ill. Within three months, her mother succumbed to the illness and breathed her last. Annabelle’s death hit Aragorn hard. He took to drinking, as it seemed to be the only way he could dull the pain. It was hard for him, as Caela looked so much like her mother…but she was the person he now held most dear. Due to this, he pulled her back in, restricting her to the house. She was cut from the freedom she had given, and she was furious. She needed space, and was not allowed it….. She struggled with her father for two years when the letter came. It was a relief, honestly. As soon as she saw that she was needed in Elswilm, she started packing. Of course, Aragorn barged in demanding what she was doing. She was not going anywhere, he boomed. When she handed him the letter, he broke down. “My girl…my baby girl…please…don’t go. I can’t lose you….not you too.” Was what he had said to her; when he collapsed to his knees and placed his face in his hands, she had gone to him and embraced him. She had told him that he was not losing her, that she would always be there. But there had to be a time when she was allowed to leave, and she could not, and would not, refuse the Queen. So she packed, and made the short journey to the castle where it all began. Skills: She excels with her daggers. She has two matching daggers, only one is the aqua blue and one matches her hair. She has sliced and diced so many people who got in her way, or made her their enemy, it is scary. She also learned how to throw knives at quite a young age. She can hit almost any target, still or moving. Because she excels in close combat, it only comes natural that she excels in hand to hand combat as well. Stealth: she was a spy for goodness sakes. She can get around and manipulate people quite easily. Caela is good at telling when people are lying. She's also a good liar herself, when it comes to that. Weaknesses: Because her choice weapon is short range, she has to get fairly close to her opponents to do any kind of damage. This leaves her open to several problems when it comes to close range combat. She can’t handle the sword to save her life, at least not yet. It is on her list to try to master. Sentimentality: she knows her own daggers the best, and is best when it is they who she is wielding. While she is excellent with any dagger, she performs her best with her own two. She can’t run for an extended period of time. She’s a sprinter, as most spies need to be. She’s not good at negotiations; she gives away too much information to be useful. She's afraid of failure. She's scared that she will let her father down, and lose all their hope for regaining the crowns favor. Name: Baldur Hrafn "Blackmane", Son of Geir. Gender: Male Age: 22 Height: 6'5" Weight: 230lbs Description: Baldur Hrafn was born to a great warrior known as Geir "The Bear", a man of considerable height and prowess. He held up his infant son and proclaimed that he would become a great warrior. By the time he could walk and talk, that is when the training began for the northern lad. He was trained to become a leader and a great warrior, placed on the long ships to watch whale hunting and when he was old enough, hunted with the other warriors and even began to sail with them to battle with rival clans. He hunted with knife and spear, hunting the large beasts of the north such as great elk and over zealous wolves. At the age of sixteen, he was sent out to hunt alone and during his hunt he found a known black wolf that had been killing traveling merchants and other hunters. The two predators of the fought one another in a fierce battle, concluding with Baldur biting down on the wolf's throat and tearing out its jugular. He dragged the wolf back to his village and held it up, his victory giving him the name of Blackmane when he skinned the wolf and made it's fur into a cloak. Baldur is a giant of a man but not really in height even though he is taller than most men. His presences, attitude and voice seem to fill the room as he demands attention. He is a fun loving man who likes the simple pleasures in life; Combat, Drinking, Women and Conquest and all is best when it is all wrapped together in a nice package. His fair hair and beard are kept clean as he bathes regularly as per his people's customs. His icy blue eyes reflect the clear frozen lakes of his homeland during high winter. The man his however boastful and loud about it. He is clear about his achievements and his capabilities, ready to defend his claims through a physical challenge at a moment's notice. He does value warrior's honor and would rather be dragged to the cold Hells rather than win a duel dishonorably. Baldur is proficient with single and two handed swords, spears and axes along with shields and mounted combat. He is also an experienced seaman as he has hunted whales at an young age on a long boat and even captained one for a short while. He travels armed with a long spear, an ulfberht, seax and a round shield while traveling on a surprisingly small horse, almost a pony. Baldur is unfortunately almost illiterate. He can read the significance of runes but actual common writing is something that he missed during his upbringing. He gets rather defensive about it and is a little ashamed. He is also lacking of basic high court courtesy, making him stand out like a mad bull in a glass workshop.