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From the Website


Here's everyone's page from the roster section of the website, for reference while the website is down:

Name: Adia
Age: 19
Preferred Weapon(s): Sword and Knife
Rank: Newbie
Standing: Associate Member
Affiliations: None
Knots:
  

I was born in a village with no name. My family- we were what was left of a weak branch of the strong Brody clan. My father's name was Northborne, not Brody, but I generally went by Brody. I liked to see people's reaction to the name. My father was a blacksmith. My mother took off a year after I was born. I don't remember her. It doesn't bother me. My father raised me more as a boy-child than a girl. I don't think he really knew how to handle a woman. I think as he got older he forgot that I was one, or that I would eventually become one. I did a decent job of hiding it. Growing up, I mostly watched my brother, Aadain, stoke the fires of the smithy. When he left for the crusades when I was 15, I was lost. He was more my companion than anyone I had ever known. The village girls avoided me because I "didn't act natural" and I couldn't tell you way the boys avoided me. They just did. Aadain quickly rose through the ranks in the army. He was like that. He was all strength and compassion. He did well, according to his letters. One day, around my eighteenth birthday, I think my father suddenly remembered I was female, and started talking about marriages. Arranging marriages. After that, the letters from Aadain stopped coming.

I know my brother better than anyone else, and I know he didn't die. I'm leaving home to find him. I'm not avoiding marriage. I have no reason to avoid marriage. That's silly. I'm joining the crusades and I'm going to find him. And when I do, he'll have worse things to worry about than an advancing army.

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Name: Anahit
Age: 21
Preferred Weapon(s): Short and Long sword
Rank: Recruit
Standing: Active
Affiliations: First Navy of the Fury
Knots: Active, Officer
  

"We'll circle Pathlock for four months. You know the lead caravan wants to always be on the move. We're doing this because we all love you, and once your done playing soldier, you can come back to us."

"Thank you, Mom, but I need to do this. We can't keep running. We'll run out of land, backed into a corner like rats. We need to fight now with the possibility of winning, or we'll just die later, alone."

"There's always the sea. We'll just put some sails on the caravans, and we'll be alright."

"Mom... I'm gonna miss you."

We hugged, and I got ready to leave. The long sword is my father's, and the short sword is my grandmother's. I was a caravan kid my entire life, as was my mother, and grandmother, and so forth. This does not mean I am uneducated or wild. Every so often we take in someone new, they become family. We have our caravans and travel from city to city, always looking for something new. Every once in a while, ran out of town. That was always fun... But, wandering had turned into running, and I couldn't stand it.

My father gave his sword unwillingly. He didn't want me to leave. My grandmother on the other hand, pressed hers into my hand. "An old blade, but a good one. Fight for those who can't anymore, bring home some heads, and a decent man. Lord knows we need a couple in the caravan." I shake my head, smiling. She scowls at my dad, he slinks away.

I'm gonna miss them.

I found the crusade a week or so later. The first people I ran into were also trying to find their bearings in the camp. I guess it's better to be lost with others rather than lost alone. I fell in quickly with them. Brecken, Brinje, and some jokers calling themselves "The Veris Squad." But they're good with weapons, so I guess they can call themselves whatever they want. We broke off into our own little group, these are good people. Maybe not family yet, but good people. We all share a purpose, they share my need to fight. I fight to protect those I love.

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Name: Anda
Age: 19
Preferred Weapon(s): Long sword, Great sword
Rank: Newbie
Standing: Associate Member
Affiliations: None
Knots:
  

Back story Pending

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Name: Azhara
Age: 21
Preferred Weapon(s): Anything Heavy, Sword and Board
Rank: Recruit
Standing: Active Member
Affiliations: Thorin Brothers
Knots: Active
  

We are the Thorin Brothers, brothers not by blood just mutual bad luck in childhood. We were found by a group of Dwarves near the city of Naudring. We were surviving amongst the reckage ofa ship our native village was using to sail north to Dugar, a storm thought it would be fun to see that we never reached the island. The band of dwarves were everything but hospitable, took what supplies they found and figured they would be merciful and kill us before the elements did. One of them must have had some compassion, argued that we be brought back to the city and taken care of. Said we had survived this long we may just prove useful in the mines. He was exiled as a result. Horgar Thorin became our adoptive father. He taught us his trade of smithing, and trained us to handle the tools we would create properly.

luck it seems thought to play with us some more. Returning from a hunting trip we found a group of thieves raiding our home, Horgars body lay in a battered heap. We made sure justice was done. Our adoptive father killed, no real reason to stay in the wilds we sailed to the mainland. Now we do the things we do best, we work metal on occasion but we are not dwarves. We are assassins and sellswords. One thing our father did teach us despite his exile was to remain honorable, loyal, righteous. So if the cause is good enough and the coin is better we go to wherever there is blood to be shed.

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oi.
11/11/2009, 6:33 pm Link to this post Send Email to Toland   Send PM to Toland
 
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Re: From the Website


Name: Brechin
Age: 21
Preferred Weapon(s): Florentine (Short sword and Axe), Spear
Rank: Newbie
Standing: Active
Affiliations: Currently Un-named
Knots: Active, Officer
  

Brechin was born to two servants working for the controlling family of his home town. The Family could not conceive and when Brechin was five they began to educate him and groom him to be their successor. The family passed Brechin off as their own son but he continued to live with his real parents. When he was sixteen, and his marriage being arranged, a rival family, through paying other servants in the house, found out that Brechin was not the son of the nobles. His marriage was canceled. Having not received training in any trade other than in land holding Brechin decided to use his education to his advantage. He left home saying good bye to his real mother and father and receiving money from his surrogate parents he struck out on his own becoming a traveling poet. He would move from town to town preforming epic poems of his own and other's construction. He wasn't wealthy but made enough money to travel and live comfortably.

But something wasn't right. Through his travels he saw first hand the destruction that was spreading throughout the county. The heroes in the poems he preformed seemed to call out to him. He could no longer do nothing.

Eager to help he began to seek out the crusades. One day, early in his new journey, he came upon bandits attacking a young woman. He drew the sword he carried with him for protection and charged in. Inexperience and idealism don't mix and quickly found himself fighting, very poorly, for his life. To his relief the young woman and three strangers joined the fray and saved his life.

Brinje, the young woman, and the Veris squad, the strangers, and Brechin joined together and went off to the crusade. Brechin still composes poems but now they are populated with the people and events he himself is now involved in. One day he will pay back the debt he owes to the young woman who bought him his life with steel.


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Charater Name: Brinje
Character Age: 20
Preferred Weapon(s): Sword and Board
Rank: Recruit
Standing: Officer
Affiliations: None
Knots: Active, Officer

  


Brinje was a student stirred to action by news of the Crusade that came to her through her studies. With a chat with the abbot who oversaw her work and a letter sent to her family, she abandoned the life of study and manuscript copying and set out to do something she believed in. Meeting up with Brechin and the Veris Squad along the way, she became one of the founding members of the Fury of the Called.


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oi.
11/11/2009, 6:34 pm Link to this post Send Email to Toland   Send PM to Toland
 
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Re: From the Website


Name: Eldgrim Tehviking Tarn
Age: 20
Preferred Weapon(s): Lance and Dagger, Imperial
Rank: Recruit
Standing: Officer
Affiliations: The Tarn Vikings, First Navy of the Fury
Knots: Active, Officer
  

We are the brothers Tarn. Finn, Thorgrim, and Eldgrim. We are all that is left of the mighty war band of Tornan the Wavetamer. We would raid and pillage on any coast in any weather. Our longboats were feared above all others. The shadow of our coming was a watchword to naughty children.
Alas the fateful day came when in our arrogance we raided a temple of Njörðr. The storms and contrary winds that beset our longboats were like nothing we had ever seen. The fleet was battered and sunk. Our comrades drowned. We watched Tornan throw himself over the side in defiance of Njörðr.
We were resigned to our death, scudding under torn sails where ever Njörðr chose to blow us. After three weeks our stores were gone and we sat weak in the bow of the boat starving to death. Njörðr appeared to me then as in a dream. He spoke with authority and asked me if I and my brothers would consent to do his will. I replied that our lives and our swords were his.

The winds died, the waves calmed and I fell into darkness. When I awoke my brothers and I were in a hut in a small fishing village. Surprised that we were not killed outright by these simple people we thanked them and told them of our oath. They too told us that Njörðr had appeared to their elders and told them to save our lives so that we could teach them the ways of battle and lead them to the crusades. We are here to fulfill our oath and shed the blood of our enemies in sacrifice to the god of wind and wave. Praise Njörðr.

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Name: Fenris Kelevra
Age: 24
Preferred Weapon(s): Glaive, Sword and Board
Rank: Recruit
Standing: Active Member
Affiliations: Veris Squad, The Corners, Fallen Leaves
Knots: Active, Officer
  

When he came of age, Fenris left home to fight in the crusades. While he was there he formed a small team with two other soliders that showed promise, and they form the Veris Squad. After a few months of fighting Fenris seriously injured his leg and went home to heal his wounds. When he returned home he started working at the family bar to help out until he was better. Before he was completely healed his father passed away, leaving Fenris the only one to run the family business. A few years passed after Fenris's leg healed, yet he stayed home to run the bar for his family. Until one day two strangers to the town walked in and threw an old glaive on the bar. When Fenris looked up he saw that it was his two friends from the Veris Squad, come to get him back in the war. He decided that despite having the bar to run, that he needed to do what he felt was right and return to the front lines. That same night, the Veris squad helped a young lady stop the mugging of a traveling poet outside his bar, and the five of them got to talking and found out that they were all on their way to the crusades, and thus The Fury of the Called was born.

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Name: Finn Tarn
Age: 20
Preferred Weapon(s): The Hammer, Florentine
Rank: Newbie
Standing: Active Member
Affiliations: The Tarn Vikings
Knots: Active
  

We are the brothers Tarn. Finn, Thorgrim, and Eldgrim. We are all that is left of the mighty war band of Tornan the Wavetamer. We would raid and pillage on any coast in any weather. Our longboats were feared above all others. The shadow of our coming was a watchword to naughty children.
Alas the fateful day came when in our arrogance we raided a temple of Njörðr. The storms and contrary winds that beset our longboats were like nothing we had ever seen. The fleet was battered and sunk. Our comrades drowned. We watched Tornan throw himself over the side in defiance of Njörðr.
We were resigned to our death, scudding under torn sails where ever Njörðr chose to blow us. After three weeks our stores were gone and we sat weak in the bow of the boat starving to death. Njörðr appeared to me then as in a dream. He spoke with authority and asked me if I and my brothers would consent to do his will. I replied that our lives and our swords were his.

The winds died, the waves calmed and I fell into darkness. When I awoke my brothers and I were in a hut in a small fishing village. Surprised that we were not killed outright by these simple people we thanked them and told them of our oath. They too told us that Njörðr had appeared to their elders and told them to save our lives so that we could teach them the ways of battle and lead them to the crusades. We are here to fulfill our oath and shed the blood of our enemies in sacrifice to the god of wind and wave. Praise Njörðr.

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Name: Hafnir Stouthammer
Age: 26
Preferred Weapon(s): Sword/Board, Hammers, Reds
Rank: Recruit
Standing: Active Member
Affiliations: Frist Navy of the Fury
Knots: Active
  

Hafnir burst through the entrance of the Red Rose, dragging its latest unruly patron out into the rain by his hair. Hafnir dropped the bloodied and bruised man in the mud of the street and walked past the gentleman’s limping comrades, heading back towards the Red Rose. Hafnir began to take stock of his own injuries, starting to nurse a strained shoulder and working over a newly loosened tooth with his tongue.

The tavern was the only establishment of its kind in this shithole sized town outside of Hithdor. Hafnir didn’t miss much of Duindor, but he did miss the challenges. Sure, he got to beat out some of his rage on random drunken farmers at least once a week here, but it was nothing compared to the everyday struggle of defending your territory in a street war.

Hafnir was snatched from his thoughts as two men crashed into the street. One man, a large and intimidating creature bore down upon the other, sword held high over his head as he bellowed like nothing Hafnir had heard before. The other, which had some peculiar looking facial hair, nimbly dodged the giant, easily side-stepping his powerful but clumsy strikes.

Hafnir doubted the nimble one needed his help, but if the giant wasn’t careful Hafnir was sure he’d end up gutted on the street this night. While Hafnir cared not if this giant fell, he’d be damned if anyone in his town fell by a hand other than his own.

Hafnir pushed aside the pains he felt and barreled into the fight at full speed. He aimed for the lumbering giant, lowered his shoulder and drove him to the ground. His shoulder reminded him not to work too hard, but the giant had other ideas. This man, if you could call him such, was every bit as strong as he looked. As Hafnir struggled to gain control over him, he could hear the brawler laughing most exuberantly. It was an oddly disarming laugh of joy and kindness which did not match the bloodlust Hafnir had surely seen in his eyes earlier.

The fight seemed to be going Hafnir’s way when he was struck by the oddly-bearded one from behind. This new development confused Hafnir as he didn’t expect the victim of this apparent assault to object to being aided in not dying and stuff.

This confusion combined with the hefty blow he’d just received to allow the other to haul Hafnir off the giant. In an effort to confuse him further, the nimble one merely set the now muddy and addled Hafnir upright and asked “Are you okay, guy?”

“I’m fine, sir”, replied Hafnir, “yet my name is not Guy.”

The other laughed. A full-bellied affair that set his twin beards to motion. “My name is Sethrin; my large friend here is Thorgrim. What would your moniker be?”

Hafnir shook his head, driving away the last remnants of haze, “Hafnir, Hafnir Stouthammer. What in the Nine Hells is going on here?”

The one called Thorgrim was still laughing, albeit now it was more along the lines of a chuckle. Sethrin and Thorgrim explained how they had been training together, preparing to join the Crusade with their unit, the Fury of the Called. Hafnir had never heard of the Crusade, though he knew of Maegamarth and the undead. Hearing what these men were doing, what they fought against, was like seeing the sun for the first time. His world made sense, his purpose was clear, he knew what to do.

The next day he packed his things and joined the Fury’s camp. And for the first time in his life, the cold ache in his gut was gone.


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oi.
11/11/2009, 6:34 pm Link to this post Send Email to Toland   Send PM to Toland
 
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Re: From the Website


Name: Jayne
Age: 21
Preferred Weapon(s): Axe, Pole Axe
Rank: Recruit
Standing: Active Member
Affiliations:
Knots: Active
  

"As with other situations the key seems to be giving Jayne a heavy stick and standing back."

I began my adult life as a mercenary, working with a troop defending trade caravans. Things were good for a year and a half till one autumn evening when we were set upon by what seemed to be an overwhelming number of bandits. I watched my two best friends fall before the onslaught when I failed myself. I turned to run when I was struck with an arrow in the side and fell.

The rest of the troop rallied and defeated the bandits though they were outnumbered 2 to 1. Knowing the truth of my cowardice I was reluctant to stay with the caravan. As was my wish once my wound had healed I left looking to find my place in the world. I trudged on for years, doing whatever I could be paid to do, a lot of it I'm not proud of. Finally my quest for purpose came to an end when I met a band of travelers heading for The Crusade. I at long last had a chance to do something good with my life again, to earn back my honor.

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Name: Lilibet (Nicknamed Libby)
Age: 28
Preferred Weapon(s): Intellect
Rank: Recruit
Standing: Active
Affiliations: First Navy of the Fury
Knots: Active

  

Upon recieving the remains of her fallen husband's body, she felt drawn to battle. Seeing the wounded and people in need made her want to help in anyway possible.

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Name: M' Hal
Age: 20
Preferred Weapon(s): Florentine, Glaive
Rank: Recruit
Standing: Associate Member
Affiliations: None
Knots:
  

As a boy he was part of a small nomadic tribe in the frozen north. Shortly after passing into manhood he felt a drive to journey south. With the blessing of his family and his people he departed. Yet with no direction he aimlessly wandered south living off the land and occasionally highered by locals be it for farming, militia or other labor. He still looks for his purpose in life, yet filled with determination he presses on.

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Name: Mav
Age: 20
Preferred Weapon(s): Sword and Board, Rocks
Rank: Recruit
Standing: Active Member
Affiliations: The Tarn Vikings
Knots: Active
  

I am a survivor. I have learned to live alone, trust no one else. There are those that call me friend, though secretly I would feel nothing if anything were to happen to them. Having been cut off completely from my family from a very young age, this is what I have become. I am used to being alone, and I like it. However, little did I know how much this would all change, that I would soon find out that I had no choice but to trust in others, whether I wanted to or not. One day I was out hunting, when a group of barbarian men jumped out of some bushes, beat me to near death, and dragged me behind them for what felt like days. Not knowing what their plans were for me, I had to assume that it was only going to lead to my demise. I had to come up with a plan to escape, once again, alone, all by myself. One thing I learned, though, is that these barbarians, they were always moving. I never stayed in one place, always bound to where I could hardly move. Though better than a dungeon cell, it would be difficult, practically impossible, to escape. I was always being watched carefully. After months, maybe years of captivity, I had given up all effort to try and escape. But then one day, the barbarians that were holding me captive got attacked by three men I had never seen before. But these were not just any ordinary men, I thought. The way they moved, dressed, fought... I was not sure what to call them, but they were different. These men, or whatever they were, fought through the barbarians with barely any effort. Though when they approached me, bound and weak, I thought for sure they might kill me too. But then one of them spoke up, "Don't kill them. He is not one of them." This was one of the first acts of kindness from another human being I had ever experienced. Therefore I was not quite sure how to react. "What should we do with him?" Another of them asked. Then I was asked, "Can you fight?" And I replied, "Of course. Why?" And before I could stop myself, I had to ask: "What are you?" And he replied, "We are Viking warriors. Come, there is a huge group of us which we three are a part of. Join us." He cut my bounds, and held out a hand. My life having been spared, and been shown kindness like I never had before, I had no choice but to accept, reach out my hand to his, and learn to fight with and trust others.

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Name: Nny
Age: 19
Preferred Weapon(s): Duel Wield, Sword and Board
Rank: Newbie
Standing: Active Member
Affiliations: None
Knots: Active
  

Born the son of pirate on the high seas, spent his life aboard the vessel deemed blood lust a great galleon that left a wake of crimson waters behind from the ruthless blood shed of its latest prey. Nny grew into a fine pirate living up to the reputation of the vessel he served aboard until one day a drunken captain saw it fit to keelhaul a member of the crew just for fun. Nny was first in sight. Nny was bound and tied and thrown from the jib to drag beneath the ship and contribute the the crimson stained waters that fallowed the blood lust every where it went. by fortunes hand a sharp barnacle severed the rope that bound Nny to the ship, but not before the other barnacles had done their Briney work to him first. battered and bleeding Nny was spat out behind the ship.

Fortune smiled on him once again as a rival ship passing by discovered him bobbing in the water half dead. they dragged him aboard and at first scowled at his existence up on discovery of his origin threatening to serve him his fate again beneath their own ship. locked in the brig pondering what ill fortune awaited him, an clear hearted cabin boy unlocked his cell and spoke. "the captain wishes to speak with ye"

Up on arrival in the captains quarters Nny was given the chance to prove his worth and allegiance to this new crew by serving aboard the Black Rose. without contest Nny took his place among the crew where he soon proved his salt and worth. he gained the respect among the ranks quickly.

Nny made a vow that he would not rest until he saw a fitful revenge was executed up on his previous captain and the Blood Lust was his to captain.

Several years have passed since that day. Nny's Captain has passed on after a long well lived life of piracy, he was at piece now. and as the crew mourned their captains death they looked to Nny. they deemed him over any of the crew to be best suited to lead them as their captain, they were behind him in every thing he did.

Nny now took the name of Captain Nny, and set forth in search of his goal over land and sea. He now had the means and the crew to seek out his revenge up on his drunken rival aboard the Blood Lust.

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oi.
11/11/2009, 6:35 pm Link to this post Send Email to Toland   Send PM to Toland
 
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Re: From the Website


Name: Pammykins
Age: 19
Preferred Weapon(s): Spears
Rank: Recruit
Standing: Officer
Affiliations: First Navy of the Fury
Knots: Active, Officer
  

Fishing community. I was raised in a fishing community. A small fishing town where they fished and !@#$. Daddykins and Mommykins are physicians. And there is grandpa, who fishes. I has a brother, 2 yrs younger than me and stuff. He fishes too or something. I think that fishing sucks, and spearing bitches is better, so I decided to do that instead. I ran into some other spearsies, and now I fight with them and stuff. I don’t know their names or anything, they’re fatties.

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Name: Reimus
Age: Mid-20s
Preferred Weapon(s): Addled Swordsman
Rank: Newbie
Standing: Active Member
Affiliations: None
Knots: Active
  

"Say, who's that over there?"
"Him? Reimus? Stay clear o' him."
"Why, he dangerous or something?"
"No, they say he's about as addled as an orc. Cow dung crazy. They say he don't know friend from foe, just about as liable to swing at either if they get in 'is reach. Wouldn't be suprised if he were to start howlin' at the moon."
"Who's they?"
"They what?"
"You said 'They' say he's crazy. Who are 'they'?"
"Um...them...you know, those guys..."
"... I'm gonna go talk to him."

Moments later a ridiculous howl is heard through the camp. Reimus is seen hanging upside down from a tree limb cackling his brains out.


 



Name: Seigh
Age: 24
Preferred Weapon(s): Florentine, Sword and Board
Rank: Recruit
Standing: Active Member
Affiliations: None
Knots: Active
  

I grew up in a small village on the sea. The warm waters fed my people and made trade with neighbors easy. My father was a warrior when he was younger. He has since become a storyteller, sharing his many journeys with the villagers over the night's meal. My mother teaches the young women how to heal and care for one another.

The first daughter born after a long line of boys I was destined to marry and become a staple in the community. Nothing special. Just life. Moving along as it always had for us: calmly and with purpose.

But it was not to be. The outside world began to encroach on quiet homeland. Word of the Crusades and the ills being felt by so many could not be ignored. In my 20th year, four of my brothers decided to join the ranks. They wanted to prove themselves. Be like our father. It was a mistake. Two died within a year. The eldest was captured and never seen again. And poor, Senek... Closest to me in age he set out with dreams of valor and great victories. He returned broken. A shell. Not half the man he had been before.

But the Crusades were not over. They raged fiercer still and with every passing of the moon the tales of carnage came closer, and closer to my village.

Positioned against the sea, we had no where to run if the battlefield made it to our doorstep. I decided to join in fray before such a thing could come to pass. Needless to say, no one in my village supported me. But I would not be swayed. To avoid further argument, I stole away in the night with my brother's sword and what money I had saved. I can only hope the in time they will come to accept my decision.

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Name: Sethrin Enderu
Age: 23
Preferred Weapon(s): Spear
Rank: Recruit
Standing: Officer
Affiliations: David Bowie, First Navy of the Fury
Knots: Active, Officer
  

When the fever took his sister, he knew it was time for him to leave as well. So he left. He suffered; he sought ruin. But always, the lure of the horizon beat a slow tattoo on his bones. It found resonance in the deep places within the marrow, and he followed it; perhaps hoping to find some meaning in motion, perhaps a slave to his restless lust. The scars multiplied; he endured. For a time he worked as a tradesman in Hithka, but soon found that his hands were better suited to a redder purpose. Whether it is he that was drawn to battle or battle that was drawn to him is unknown. What is known is that Toland and Sethrin built spears. What is known is that Eldgrim and Zimsa and Sethrin built spears.

His feet fall in steady time as he advances, stirring the red dust. His eyes are clear. The fury roils within him, and it is the killing season.

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Name: Trelhe “The Loveable Tramp”
Age: 19
Preferred Weapon(s): Cutlass
Rank: Recruit
Standing: Active Member
Affiliations:
Knots: Active
  

I’ve been a thief most of my life. In my hometown I have stolen almost any shinny thing I could get my hands on. Around the time it started getting bored, the town council started getting annoyed with my antics. They actually employed a troop of Mercenaries to hunt me down and make sure that I did not do it again. The Mercenaries did as they were told, but I found out later that they really intended to kill me.

The Mercenaries chased me as far as I could go. They trapped me in a muddy field. When it seemed all was lost, and I was about to die. Thousands of people rushed over both hills. Clashing in the middle, the Mercenaries and myself were absorbed in the fray. I don’t know how it happened, but some how I got a weapon and fought for my life. Once the night came a few of the warriors there handed me some food, gave me shelter, and told me tales of their homes. After the night ended and day came again, I decided that these people need help and I decided to do what is right and help them in their crusade.

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Name: Thorgrim Tarn
Age: 19
Preferred Weapon(s): Sword w/ Turtle Shell Shield
Rank: Recruit
Standing: Active Member
Affiliations: The Tarn Vikings
Knots: Active
  

We are the brothers Tarn. Finn, Thorgrim, and Eldgrim. We are all that is left of the mighty war band of Tornan the Wavetamer. We would raid and pillage on any coast in any weather. Our longboats were feared above all others. The shadow of our coming was a watchword to naughty children.
Alas the fateful day came when in our arrogance we raided a temple of Njörðr. The storms and contrary winds that beset our longboats were like nothing we had ever seen. The fleet was battered and sunk. Our comrades drowned. We watched Tornan throw himself over the side in defiance of Njörðr.
We were resigned to our death, scudding under torn sails where ever Njörðr chose to blow us. After three weeks our stores were gone and we sat weak in the bow of the boat starving to death. Njörðr appeared to me then as in a dream. He spoke with authority and asked me if I and my brothers would consent to do his will. I replied that our lives and our swords were his.

The winds died, the waves calmed and I fell into darkness. When I awoke my brothers and I were in a hut in a small fishing village. Surprised that we were not killed outright by these simple people we thanked them and told them of our oath. They too told us that Njörðr had appeared to their elders and told them to save our lives so that we could teach them the ways of battle and lead them to the crusades. We are here to fulfill our oath and shed the blood of our enemies in sacrifice to the god of wind and wave. Praise Njörðr.

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oi.
11/11/2009, 6:36 pm Link to this post Send Email to Toland   Send PM to Toland
 
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Re: From the Website


Name: Thurston
Age: 23
Preferred Weapon(s): Spear, Florentine
Rank: Newbie
Standing: Active Member
Affiliations: Thorin Brothers
Knots: Active
  

We are the Thorin Brothers, brothers not by blood just mutual bad luck in childhood. We were found by a group of Dwarves near the city of Naudring. We were surviving amongst the reckage ofa ship our native village was using to sail north to Dugar, a storm thought it would be fun to see that we never reached the island. The band of dwarves were everything but hospitable, took what supplies they found and figured they would be merciful and kill us before the elements did. One of them must have had some compassion, argued that we be brought back to the city and taken care of. Said we had survived this long we may just prove useful in the mines. He was exiled as a result. Horgar Thorin became our adoptive father. He taught us his trade of smithing, and trained us to handle the tools we would create properly.

luck it seems thought to play with us some more. Returning from a hunting trip we found a group of thieves raiding our home, Horgars body lay in a battered heap. We made sure justice was done. Our adoptive father killed, no real reason to stay in the wilds we sailed to the mainland. Now we do the things we do best, we work metal on occasion but we are not dwarves. We are assassins and sellswords. One thing our father did teach us despite his exile was to remain honorable, loyal, righteous. So if the cause is good enough and the coin is better we go to wherever there is blood to be shed.

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Name: Major Toland Eligiuson
Age: 35
Preferred Weapon(s): Spear, Large Swords
Rank: Recruit
Standing: Officer
Affiliations: First Navy of the Fury, Veris Squad
Knots: Active, Officer
  

Toland Eligiuson was born to human parents in 3932, and now, just as then, nothing special was thought of the boy. Brought into this world by bystanders to a world of rich culture that they would never understand, Toland spent his younger days with his parents in a small village outside of Duindor, growing up in the manner in which young boys do. His parents where both xenophobes, but Toland never really understood why things as trivial as race mattered in a world where good and evil where more than concepts to be debated by philosophers but where forces of might that clashed on battlefields.


It was this notice, this desire to join the forces of good, which led him at the age of 14, in 3946; to leave home to make the world a better place, and he shortly joined up with a wandering military unit known as The Veris Squad. He learned the ways of combat by watching, and gained an interest in weaponry which led to him being trained to repair weapons by the unit’s then-blacksmith, Yig. Yig took Toland under his apprenticeship until he was crippled a year and a half after Toland joined the Veris Squad. Pouring himself into a bottle with his mentor in a night he can’t remember he became a man in the traditional sense, leading to the birth of his son, Jovian, in 3948. His mother, a pacifist who never approved of Toland’s military history, told him to go on and try to futilely save the world. She wrote him letters for a long time but around when Toland was turning 22, the letters had stopped. Toland, now a Major within the unit, was nervous as to what had become of the woman he never loved and the son he had never seen left the Veris Squad to attend to personal matters.


When he arrived in Hithka to find what had happened, he found a single soldier stationed outside the house that was his destination. The guard had informed him that the occupant had been killed, survived by a young boy. Toland, knowing now his duty had changed from that of fighting battles for good to fatherhood, found the orphanage where the boy had been taken and took him back to his home, telling him stories the entire way. The boy was now 6 years old, and only hearing tales of his father from his mother, grew quite enamored of his father’s tales of combat. Toland settled in Hithka, finishing his blacksmith training and grew into fatherhood as the boy grew up. This lasted until the boy turned 16 in 3964, and he decided to follow in his father’s footsteps. Toland has also insisted that upon that day he felt a pride that he would never feel again.


Unfortunately for Toland, his son Jovian was not the combatant that he had thought he had raised, and the Veris Squad was wiped out by the forces of Maegamarth before they even made it to join Mithris’s crusade. When news made its way back to Hithka, Toland was destroyed. He swore off combat and weapon making for years, refusing to have anything to do with violence, wishing he had listened to the woman he barely knew all those years ago. This lasted until he saw Yig stumbling into a bar in Hithka, whom he followed into the bar. Yig recounted his past 20 years to Toland in a night of drinking worthy of dwarves and Vikings. This reinvigorated Toland with a righteousness he had not felt since leaving home at 14, and he swore to help the crusades anyway he could. From Yig he received a list of members of the Veris Squad who were not active at the time of the massacre and began collecting them. Early into this process he ran into Fenris, and later that night the Fury of the Called was formed. Toland may have a new banner, but his purpose is the same. He doesn’t take the battlefield as much as he would have in his younger days, but Toland helps where he can, fighting from a distance and blacksmithing.

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Name: Xander
Age: 19
Preferred Weapon(s): Maces, Glaive, Quarterstaff
Rank: Newbie
Standing: Associate Member
Affiliations: None
Knots:
  

I was raised a blacksmith. My father taught me the art of the smithy and how to fight. I was always able to string together words and with practice I could become something of a bard. Many a night while I should have been fast asleep I thought of the battles raging through the lands. My thoughts had boiled down to a few things. The weapons and armor were no problem; I could simply make them in my father’s smithy, my family may or may not agree with my decision to fight, and lastly what difference would I make.
My father respected my wishes to fight, and with his help we forged armor and a mighty mace, Pandora. However, when the rest of the village learned that I was to join the crusade the village revolted against my family saying that it would simply bring the wars to the village and destroy it. The smithy was destroyed by the people in hopes to crush my spirits of fighting. This only strengthened my will to fight for my family’s honor and to defend my village.

---
oi.
11/11/2009, 6:37 pm Link to this post Send Email to Toland   Send PM to Toland
 
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Re: From the Website


The formation of the unit, as recalled from Brinya's Journals:

Prior to the formation of the Fury, I was a student at an abbey. Through the course of my studies I came across news and history regarding the Crusade, its purpose and its people and I felt called to go to war. I left a letter for my parents with the abbot and left.

Brechin was a wandering poet/bard type who attempted to save my life from some hooligans who attacked me outside of a bar along the road. Somehow in the whole exchange he wound up staring down the business end of a sword, and the "damsel in distress" had to jump to *his* rescue, instead. After I had somewhat clumsily dispatched our attackers, he and I sat down to have a drink (or several) at the nearby bar. Brechin, feeling indebted to me for saving his life, heard my story and my plans and came to the conclusion that he could find no better way to thank me than to follow me to war.

The bar at which we had our palaver was owned by a fellow called Fenris, an ex-soldier who had returned to Hithka to run the business when his father passed away. In his earlier combat days, he had fought with a unit known as The Veris Squad, with whom he lost contact over the years since he left. The night Brechin and I were in his common room, Anaminate and Toland, both former member units of the Veris Squad before it's destruction from the forces of Maegamarth, found him again -- and they brought his glaive. They had plans to join the Crusade thus far and had come to call him back to war.

Neither Brechin nor I fancied ourselves warriors, and the incident earlier that day had proven to us just how vulnerable and untrained we were. We quickly agreed that traveling with three trained soldiers, out of practice or not, was a safer bet than trying to make the trip alone. They quickly accepted us and began teaching us what they knew of combat along the long road to war.

It was around the fire one night on that long road that we realized we had all come to the Crusade because we had felt a call: somewhere within us we knew this was the right thing to do, that this was where we needed to be. We began to see that this common call and the bonds we were beginning to build along the way made us more than a band of hapless wanderers. It made us a unit, however small. And so it began. We bought a horn. We made a banner. We went west, to war.

---
oi.
11/11/2009, 6:37 pm Link to this post Send Email to Toland   Send PM to Toland
 


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