Post by skarthryth on Oct 2, 2010 18:33:58 GMT -5
((This is the story leading up to Skarth's exodus from Dale, why and how he began his journey to Bree, and a bit of backround on why he is so troubled, and on occasion, full of rage and a bit of hatred, especially towards Easterlings and men from Rhun. I based some of the characters, and elements of his story, from several of the Norse sagas, the Prose Edda, and a bit of my own storytelling. But first, a bit about Skarth himself.))
Full Name: Skarthryth Skallgrim, Son of Sigmundr.
Titles: No official titles, as of yet.
Nicknames: Skar, Skars, Skarth.
Age: 20 winters.
Race: Dale-man
Gender: Male
Hair: Blonde, just past shoulder length. Fairly well kempt.
Skin: Fair, almost pale.
Eyes: Piercingly bright blue.
Height: Above average, just around 6 feet.
Weight: Muscular but lacking in body fat, approx. 180 lbs.
Place of residence: Owns a modest home in the Bree-lands.
Place of Birth: A small village near the Eastern border of Dale.
Known Relatives: None known to be alive. His father, Sigmundr, is missing, thought to be dead.
Religion/Philosophy: Skarthryh rejects the idea of one, all knowning and all powerful deity. He loosely follows the ancient Northman traditions.
Occupation: When not actively on his quest for redemption and vengeance, he makes do by forging weapons, selling ingots of mined materials, and sometimes, with his songs and poetry.
Enemies: Easterlings, men of Rhun, and all those who serve the darkness. He shows no mercy to his enemies. His family was shown no mercy, and therefore, he never considers mercy for anyone involved in the attack on his home, or anyone who would dare associate with those forces. In his mind, this includes absolutely anyone who serves or allies with Mordor.
Likes: Drink, song, and battle. He normally would include women in that list, but he is not yet over the death of his wife and unborn child.
Favorite Foods: Meat, meat, and more meat. Did I mention meat?
Favorite Drinks: Mead. It reminds him of home.
Favorite Colors: He prefers to wear dark colors, such as red, brown, and black. To him, this carries symbolism as both a warrior, and his quest for vengeance.
Weapons of Choice: Swords, of both the one, and two handed varieties. As of now, he prefers a sword in each hand.
Hobbies: Battle, battle, and more battle.
Physical Features: Skarthryth bears no major scars, or other features that drastically set him apart from others. The only things that set him apart at all, is the fact that his eyes are an unusually bright blue, to the point that it makes many uncomfortable to look him in the eyes, and the fact that he always keeps himself completely clean shaven. Unusual for a Northman.
Special Abilities: From his travels, Skarthryth bears an unusual amount of life experience for someone his age. He speaks near fluent Sindarin, from the time he spent in Mirkwood on his way South. Though he tends to generalize and stereotype a bit, he is a good judge of character, and has an uncanny sense of what people are up to.
Positive Personality Traits: Skarthryth is loyal, to a fault. When he decides that someone is his friend, he will follow them to Barad-dur itself. Becoming part of that ever shrinking list, however, is quite a quest.
Negative Personality Traits: Skarthryth can be easy to anger in certain situations, especially if he is reminded of the tragedies in his life. He also tends to be untrusting of strangers, even if someone he trusts vouches for them. In his eyes, he won't trust someone until they personally prove themselves to him.
Misc. Quirks: Skars can sometimes seem like he has two quite opposite personalities. He does not suffer from some sort of psychological disorder, he can simply change on a moments notice. If he is reminded of his past, he can almost instantly go from happy and merry to dark and brooding, or enraged. If someone happens to inadvertantly insult his kin or family, this can end quite badly.
((Now that we have some of his personality and traits lined out, lets get to the actual story.))
"The Woods are getting naked
and the weather is getting colder
I can feel this fall deep inside my bones
I hear the call of birds
they are going to leave us
I wonder how they know their destination
The woods are turnin' colours
the wilderness is shining
the north prepares for winter,
'cause it will be cruel
The birds calling gether
they are going to leave us
I always wonder how they know where to fly"
A small village, several days ride East of Dale, lies a small village, near the border with Rhun. These people make a comfortable, yet meager living however they can. The land, not terribly suitable for farming, is mostly used as hunting grounds by the locals. They use and sell the hides and pelts they gather, and also mine small amounts of iron to make and sell fine weapons. All was peaceful for the villagers, until two winters ago...
Skarthryth Skallgrim sat at the end of his table, in his small yet comfortable home. It suited him and his young wife, Gudrun, perfectly. Skarthryth was the son of Sigmundr Skallgrim, the head of the local band of warriors who keep the village safe. As such, Skarthryth made his living in a combination of hunting, and a small amount of silver each month for serving in the village guard.
"Ah, Gudrun, think of it. By spring, we will have a son! He will be a great warrior, I know it! We'll call him Sigurdr." His young wife, with a slight chuckle, replied, "Skarthryth, how are you so sure? Our child is not yet born! Could be a daughter, for all we know." Skars, a bit surprised, simply stated, "I just know. We'll see, my love, we'll see." He then reached under his table, carefully pulling out the lute his mother, Freydis, gave him before she died of sickness. He began to play a tune and sing...
"The secrets of the wind
Are whispered to the leaves
The song of hidden creeks
In the bronzing Autumn light
-elven dance in the twilight...the riddles of the sea
Raise a murmur to the shore
O mermaid,answer me!
Where's now the hero
Did he stand or did he fall?"
Looking up from his lute, Skarthryth realized his wife was asleep. "Beauty seen only by Gods, and myself." He thought to himself. Looking toward the hearth, which doubled as a rack for drying meat, he realized they were quite low on fresh meat. "Time to get another deer." He thought aloud, and grabbed his wolf pelt cloak, which Gudrun had given him at their wedding.
After a long morning of uneventful hunting, Skarth decided to return home. Cresting a hill several miles from home, he saw smoke on the horizon. "By the gods... what has happened?" He immediately said aloud. At this moment, one of the younger members of the guard, an archer named Unferth, ran down the other side of the hill. "Skar! Skar! The village! It's under attack! Easterners! Come quick!" They ran, and ran, as fast as possible by Men. When they arrived at the village, it was far too late. Only a few stragglers of the raiding party remained. Skarth and Unferth gave them quick death.
When finished mopping up the stragglers, Skars immediately began looking at the tracks on the ground. "At least twenty men dismounted, and twice that or more on horseback... We never stood a chance..." He turned to Unferth, "Gudrun! Where is my wife?" Skarthryth ran to his home, and fell to his knees. Before him was his home, burned to the ground. The body of his wife, and his unborn child, lay before him, a spear through her chest. He remained silent for what seemed like an eternity, simply staring at the sight before him. Eventually, he turned to Unferth. "Where is my father? Where is Sigmundr?" Unferth paused for a moment. "I've scoured the village. I cannot find him. He is not among the dead."
Skarth then spent some time analyzing the tracks around the ruin of his home. "There was a large fight, right here. One man stood against five or more. He fell several of them before they overwhelmed him and dragged him away, along with their dead. This must of been Sigmundr."
Skarth quickly gathered what little was left of his belongings. A set of armor, his sword, lute, and the cloak Gudrun made him. Before leaving the village, one last time, Skar stood in the center of the village, looked to the sky, and sung an oath.
"Sworn to the Raven,
The hammer and sword.
There can be no defeat,
Whence I charge the field.
All-father, hear my call,
O'er brooding mountains tall.
There be no death,
He who reside in the Golden Hall.
Sworn to the Raven,
The hammer and sword.
All-father, hear my call,
O'er brooding mountains tall.
There can be no defeat,
till death bring me home."
((So ends chapter one of Skarthryth's Saga. Later on, I'll go into how he came to Bree, and his progress in his journey. Maybe, just maybe, I may reveal what happened to Sigmundr! *cough* possible alt *cough*))
Full Name: Skarthryth Skallgrim, Son of Sigmundr.
Titles: No official titles, as of yet.
Nicknames: Skar, Skars, Skarth.
Age: 20 winters.
Race: Dale-man
Gender: Male
Hair: Blonde, just past shoulder length. Fairly well kempt.
Skin: Fair, almost pale.
Eyes: Piercingly bright blue.
Height: Above average, just around 6 feet.
Weight: Muscular but lacking in body fat, approx. 180 lbs.
Place of residence: Owns a modest home in the Bree-lands.
Place of Birth: A small village near the Eastern border of Dale.
Known Relatives: None known to be alive. His father, Sigmundr, is missing, thought to be dead.
Religion/Philosophy: Skarthryh rejects the idea of one, all knowning and all powerful deity. He loosely follows the ancient Northman traditions.
Occupation: When not actively on his quest for redemption and vengeance, he makes do by forging weapons, selling ingots of mined materials, and sometimes, with his songs and poetry.
Enemies: Easterlings, men of Rhun, and all those who serve the darkness. He shows no mercy to his enemies. His family was shown no mercy, and therefore, he never considers mercy for anyone involved in the attack on his home, or anyone who would dare associate with those forces. In his mind, this includes absolutely anyone who serves or allies with Mordor.
Likes: Drink, song, and battle. He normally would include women in that list, but he is not yet over the death of his wife and unborn child.
Favorite Foods: Meat, meat, and more meat. Did I mention meat?
Favorite Drinks: Mead. It reminds him of home.
Favorite Colors: He prefers to wear dark colors, such as red, brown, and black. To him, this carries symbolism as both a warrior, and his quest for vengeance.
Weapons of Choice: Swords, of both the one, and two handed varieties. As of now, he prefers a sword in each hand.
Hobbies: Battle, battle, and more battle.
Physical Features: Skarthryth bears no major scars, or other features that drastically set him apart from others. The only things that set him apart at all, is the fact that his eyes are an unusually bright blue, to the point that it makes many uncomfortable to look him in the eyes, and the fact that he always keeps himself completely clean shaven. Unusual for a Northman.
Special Abilities: From his travels, Skarthryth bears an unusual amount of life experience for someone his age. He speaks near fluent Sindarin, from the time he spent in Mirkwood on his way South. Though he tends to generalize and stereotype a bit, he is a good judge of character, and has an uncanny sense of what people are up to.
Positive Personality Traits: Skarthryth is loyal, to a fault. When he decides that someone is his friend, he will follow them to Barad-dur itself. Becoming part of that ever shrinking list, however, is quite a quest.
Negative Personality Traits: Skarthryth can be easy to anger in certain situations, especially if he is reminded of the tragedies in his life. He also tends to be untrusting of strangers, even if someone he trusts vouches for them. In his eyes, he won't trust someone until they personally prove themselves to him.
Misc. Quirks: Skars can sometimes seem like he has two quite opposite personalities. He does not suffer from some sort of psychological disorder, he can simply change on a moments notice. If he is reminded of his past, he can almost instantly go from happy and merry to dark and brooding, or enraged. If someone happens to inadvertantly insult his kin or family, this can end quite badly.
((Now that we have some of his personality and traits lined out, lets get to the actual story.))
"The Woods are getting naked
and the weather is getting colder
I can feel this fall deep inside my bones
I hear the call of birds
they are going to leave us
I wonder how they know their destination
The woods are turnin' colours
the wilderness is shining
the north prepares for winter,
'cause it will be cruel
The birds calling gether
they are going to leave us
I always wonder how they know where to fly"
A small village, several days ride East of Dale, lies a small village, near the border with Rhun. These people make a comfortable, yet meager living however they can. The land, not terribly suitable for farming, is mostly used as hunting grounds by the locals. They use and sell the hides and pelts they gather, and also mine small amounts of iron to make and sell fine weapons. All was peaceful for the villagers, until two winters ago...
Skarthryth Skallgrim sat at the end of his table, in his small yet comfortable home. It suited him and his young wife, Gudrun, perfectly. Skarthryth was the son of Sigmundr Skallgrim, the head of the local band of warriors who keep the village safe. As such, Skarthryth made his living in a combination of hunting, and a small amount of silver each month for serving in the village guard.
"Ah, Gudrun, think of it. By spring, we will have a son! He will be a great warrior, I know it! We'll call him Sigurdr." His young wife, with a slight chuckle, replied, "Skarthryth, how are you so sure? Our child is not yet born! Could be a daughter, for all we know." Skars, a bit surprised, simply stated, "I just know. We'll see, my love, we'll see." He then reached under his table, carefully pulling out the lute his mother, Freydis, gave him before she died of sickness. He began to play a tune and sing...
"The secrets of the wind
Are whispered to the leaves
The song of hidden creeks
In the bronzing Autumn light
-elven dance in the twilight...the riddles of the sea
Raise a murmur to the shore
O mermaid,answer me!
Where's now the hero
Did he stand or did he fall?"
Looking up from his lute, Skarthryth realized his wife was asleep. "Beauty seen only by Gods, and myself." He thought to himself. Looking toward the hearth, which doubled as a rack for drying meat, he realized they were quite low on fresh meat. "Time to get another deer." He thought aloud, and grabbed his wolf pelt cloak, which Gudrun had given him at their wedding.
After a long morning of uneventful hunting, Skarth decided to return home. Cresting a hill several miles from home, he saw smoke on the horizon. "By the gods... what has happened?" He immediately said aloud. At this moment, one of the younger members of the guard, an archer named Unferth, ran down the other side of the hill. "Skar! Skar! The village! It's under attack! Easterners! Come quick!" They ran, and ran, as fast as possible by Men. When they arrived at the village, it was far too late. Only a few stragglers of the raiding party remained. Skarth and Unferth gave them quick death.
When finished mopping up the stragglers, Skars immediately began looking at the tracks on the ground. "At least twenty men dismounted, and twice that or more on horseback... We never stood a chance..." He turned to Unferth, "Gudrun! Where is my wife?" Skarthryth ran to his home, and fell to his knees. Before him was his home, burned to the ground. The body of his wife, and his unborn child, lay before him, a spear through her chest. He remained silent for what seemed like an eternity, simply staring at the sight before him. Eventually, he turned to Unferth. "Where is my father? Where is Sigmundr?" Unferth paused for a moment. "I've scoured the village. I cannot find him. He is not among the dead."
Skarth then spent some time analyzing the tracks around the ruin of his home. "There was a large fight, right here. One man stood against five or more. He fell several of them before they overwhelmed him and dragged him away, along with their dead. This must of been Sigmundr."
Skarth quickly gathered what little was left of his belongings. A set of armor, his sword, lute, and the cloak Gudrun made him. Before leaving the village, one last time, Skar stood in the center of the village, looked to the sky, and sung an oath.
"Sworn to the Raven,
The hammer and sword.
There can be no defeat,
Whence I charge the field.
All-father, hear my call,
O'er brooding mountains tall.
There be no death,
He who reside in the Golden Hall.
Sworn to the Raven,
The hammer and sword.
All-father, hear my call,
O'er brooding mountains tall.
There can be no defeat,
till death bring me home."
((So ends chapter one of Skarthryth's Saga. Later on, I'll go into how he came to Bree, and his progress in his journey. Maybe, just maybe, I may reveal what happened to Sigmundr! *cough* possible alt *cough*))