Taingaard
Dedicated
Land of The Thousand Faces
Roleplay posts: 125
Age: 1100
Registered: Jul 9, 2018 12:06:58 GMT -8
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Post by Taingaard on Jul 8, 2019 9:54:07 GMT -8
The Wooden Eagle is the great longhouse that resides at the very peak of the hill that Leifheim is situated upon and got its name from the carved wooden eagle that sits above the large gate that leads into the halls, where the Tain resides. Built with unpainted wooden boards it stands as a testament to everything conservative and it is quite imposing in its own right. Being let inside by the gate guards one will enter throne room and notice the torches burning on the wall sconces, the guards standing in the shadows of the ornamented round pillars keeping up the structure and of course the elevated throne cut out from the trunk of an old oak tree. During times with no audience many of the warriors, noble and court residents of Taingaard will be seen here gathering and talking about politics, tactics and government - probably not sparing you many glances unless you are someone. At these times Tain Torinnsdottir may be found in her private residence in the back of the longhouse, but entering here would be unwise unless sent for. |
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Sigrid Torinnsdottir
New
Roleplay posts: 6 
Age: 38
Physical Description: Sigrid has braided hair, steel blue eyes though standing 1.7 m tall she isn't among the tallest of the women in Taingaard. She has white/blonde braided hair and decisive facial features.
Clothes and Equipment: Wears a leather laced amulet that has been passed down from generation to generation and mostly fur coats and clothes.
Registered: Jul 16, 2018 7:28:14 GMT -8
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Post by Sigrid Torinnsdottir on Jul 8, 2019 10:38:25 GMT -8
Sigrid inclined her head towards her adjudant resting her head on her palm as the bickering and discussion with the room gathered in strength.
"Ask them to leave, I don't want to deal with that subject any longer today." she said calmly her expression one of discontent but not one of being spooked. Again this day politics had been interrupted by certain parties questioning her lineage, sincerity and... between the lines, even her loyalty. She was tired of those things getting in the way of her rule, but also it seemed as if there was little to do but accept it lest she wanted the clans to grow weary. They had to be able to vent their frustration, but some of the went too far she thought.
The clansmen weren't happy by Sigrid interrupting their meeting.
"The audience of the laymen can wait damn it..!" one of them exclaimed though Sigrid were having none of it.
"I rule by the rules - if I did not you'd have better reason to call me out." she said firmly waving away his protests, the guy grudgingly leaving the hall. Sigrid sighed and the sconces burning were now the only noticeable sounds in the throne room - the guards silent in their stoic watchfulness.
"Who is the first who has been granted audience today?" Sigrid asked her adjutant, the brown haired man bowing down slightly as to not raise his voice too loud.
"Roskva Bjalfidottir, a free warrior of Leifheim. In her application she did not state clearly what the subject was she wanted to bring to your attention." he said as Sigrid frowned curious.
"Not much to go on. Well alright..." she said and raised her voice to the gate guard. "Bring her in, I'll speak with her." Sigrid stated loud and clearly, her slightly baritone voice heard clearly and accentuating her authority as the guard nodded and opened for Roskva.
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Rǫskva Bjalfidottir
Established
Roleplay posts: 10
Age: 23
Physical Description: ---------------------------------------------------------
Roskva lives up to her namesake, a woman of unusual physical stature, the embodiment of power and prowess. Standing at a stocky 6'1", with taught muscle, broad shoulders, and thick skin, it's not uncommon for those who encounter her to mistake her for a man, or speculate about a possible giant lineage. Neither of these assumption prompt a very favorable reaction from the woman.
Beneath furs and linen is an imposing figure. Roskva has a sharp nose with wide nostrils, the bridge marked by a small scar, with a slight curve to the left from a previous break. She has a square, stony jaw, and slender bow shaped lips. Cold, dark brown eyes, deliver a piercing gaze, this combined with her bushy sunken brows give the girl a resting scowl. Her hair is unkempt, a deep oaken brunette that falls just below the chin, usually pinned back behind her ears.
Her arms, legs, and abdomen are marked by scars from hard labor and battles past fought with man and beast alike. Calloused hands mark a life of rugged work. Her left forearm is marked by ritualistic tattoos, bands of runes which recount a passage from Hyndluloth, the poem outlining Freya's encounter with her sacred boar Hildisvíni. This weaves around a simplistic depiction of a boar's head and a wreath of tusks on the back of her left hand (Roskva is left handed).
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Clothes and Equipment: Jǫfurrheðnar, an article of clothing as much as it is a title. The boar fur, an intricately crafted totemic garb fashioned from the head of a boar and the hide of the beast's back, it rests upon the head and cloaks the shoulders in the thick bristly fur of the beast, symbolic of the inseparable link between a totemic warrior and their spirit animal, and the beast taking over the human form. Adorned with a wreath of thin golden strands and charms, tributes of Freya, which serve to protect Roskva from malevolent forces. tusks hang from thick leather straps on either side of the head and adorn the chinstrap of the boar head shawl, clattering hollowly with one another as they knock about. The boar is an uncommon and atypical fylgja, the bear and wolf are by far the most typical to embrace for a warrior, making her stand out among peers.
Beneath her Jǫfurrheðnar, a red surcoat over a tattered, blood stained pleated tunic, the simple armor of a peasant-born warrior. A thick leather belt wraps around her waist, providing a sheath for weapons and keeping the fabric of her tunic close to the body and out of the way. Simple cotton pants and boar leather boots cover her lower half, the boots accented with furred cuffs. She has a pair of rabbit fur gloves, though they're only worn in the cold.
Like many facets of Roskva's kit and history, her weaponry is unconventional. Rather than favoring the bow for hunting and battle, Roskva prefers to use javelins and a bearded axe, weapons which tailor better to her raw strength. The javelins are hand carved, usually carefully decorated with braided patterns, adages from the epics, and runes of power. These are carried in a leather bundle case, usually three or four at a time. Her axe has a long handle with a slight curve, made of ash wood, and wrapped in latticed leather chord which binds tightly around the knob and the eye. She also carries a small seax, though it's more often used for skinning and carving than combat, it has a leather sheath of it's own and hangs from her belt at the hip. Roskva has been known to brandish a dane axe in battle, though this is not part of her regular kit and is used only in large battles.
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Allegiances: Leifheim, Taingaard
Registered: Jul 7, 2019 7:39:08 GMT -8
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Post by Rǫskva Bjalfidottir on Jul 8, 2019 15:14:15 GMT -8
The bestial huntress looked borderline civilized as she approached the long hall, wandering up from Leifheim, the sights and sounds of such a large settlement unnerving and unsettling to the typically isolated woman. She had done her absolute best to present herself in picturesque perfection, desperate to make a favorable impression with such an important figure. She had wiped her furs clean of blood and caked on mud, washed her tunic and stitched the little rips and tears it had sustained from weeks wandering the wilds untended. She had bathed herself, head to toe, meticulously washing between every finger and toe, behind both ears, terrified of missing a spot of filth that would somehow sour her impression with the Tain.
This meeting was a foe far more formidable to the experienced warrior than any battle or dangerous hunt. She felt more comfortable at the jaws of a grizzly than she did walking into the warm halls of the long house. She could hear her heart thumping in either ear as blood rushed through her body, heart racing with every staggered step she made towards the seat of the Tain. It didn't help that this meeting with an overwhelmingly influential figure head carried for Roskva a critical importance. This was, in her eyes, her one and only chance to appeal her case to the command of the clans, her hope at retribution, justice, for her family via legitimate means. If this meeting went poorly, it would leave her one final, desperate option.
She fought to force her legs forward, but she pushed on regardless as the looming figure of the woman who would decide her prospective vengeance grew closer with every step. She seemed surprisingly gentle, in stark contrast to the mental image the huntress had crafted in her mind. That only seemed to intimidate further however, as a woman of such an elegance would need command of formidable charisma and wit to stand strong in the face of the grizzled warlords who stood at her side. She gripped the gift she bore tightly in her arms, a beautiful black bear pelt, delicately cut and cured for the occasion: A difficult hunt, but one Roskva gladly braved to avoid approaching a Tain empty handed. She wanted nothing more than to impress and display her gratitude for the opportunity, and the single minded woman could think of none more cherished a gift than a perfect pelt as this. Roskva did her absolute best to avoid meeting eyes with the members of the court, their glares and watchful eyes reminded her of woodland predators, sizing her up to be eaten.
As Roskva approached the center of the hall, she met eyes with her Tain for the first time, her heart still as her eyes affixed to Sigrid's from just beneath the snout of the boar which crowned her head, the glimpse fading as fast as it had been snatched as Roskva bowed her head deeply and sank to a single knee, bowing before her. She slowly and gently placed the folded bearskin in front of her, gesturing it to it with flat, open palms which folded to rest on her knee.
She parted her lips to speak, fear wrapped tightly around her throat. She swallowed hard, and summoned speech. "I thank you deeply for the opportunity to have audience with you, Your Grace. I brought with me the finest furs of a bear from my latest hunt, a small measure of the gratitude I have towards you for this opportunity, Tain Torinnsdottir." she remarked, in the best approximation of eloquent speech the huntress could muster. She stared holes into the floor of the long house, terrified of lifting her head and breaking some sort of convention or code of the hall she was unfamiliar with.
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Sigrid Torinnsdottir
New
Roleplay posts: 6
Age: 38
Physical Description: Sigrid has braided hair, steel blue eyes though standing 1.7 m tall she isn't among the tallest of the women in Taingaard. She has white/blonde braided hair and decisive facial features.
Clothes and Equipment: Wears a leather laced amulet that has been passed down from generation to generation and mostly fur coats and clothes.
Registered: Jul 16, 2018 7:28:14 GMT -8
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Post by Sigrid Torinnsdottir on Jul 9, 2019 4:17:47 GMT -8
She was no lithe shield maiden, Sigrid could see that even as Roskva entered the gate where she towered at least as tall as the male guards opening the doors for her. A muscular and hardy woman, but her steps towards Sigrid heavier than even her body would merit as the tain rubbed her chin wondering about the warrior's intentions. The eyes Sigrid put upon her would see fear and avoidance in the glance that Roskva did not offer the few remaining from the court that stood in the hall well out to the sides. She brought a bearskin and put it in front of the Tain - like one would do when they expected a favorable service but did not believe in their own words. She was shy of standing here, did not dare think herself worthy.
"Raise your head warrior!" Sigrid commanded, her voice firm but friendly. "Roskva Bjalfidottir, why have you come and sought audience with me hiding your eyes in my floor?" Sigrid asked, not content with anyone acting like that inside her keep. "If you truly are a warrior who felled a bear with a pelt like that, you stand proud in here." Sigrid said, easing the firmness of her voice as she ended her sentence. "Also you should keep that pelt, you have more use for that than I do. I accept however your friendly intentions and the spirit in which the gift was given." Sigrid smiled and opened a palm towards Roskva signalling that they were on good terms and that no further 'greasing the wheel' would be necessary - or have any positive effect for that sake.
"You sought me out because you have something to discuss or propose to me, that much is enough and I will weigh your arguments as fairly as I can." she said and nodded towards Roskva. "Now please explain to me what I can do, and we'll see what can be done about it." Sigrid asked, her directness usually more to the liking of the common warrior and peasant than the nobles that also resided in Leifheim. However she was also a woman who saw value in what could be done either way, and services were rarely rendered without something the other way.
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Rǫskva Bjalfidottir
Established
Roleplay posts: 10
Age: 23
Physical Description: ---------------------------------------------------------
Roskva lives up to her namesake, a woman of unusual physical stature, the embodiment of power and prowess. Standing at a stocky 6'1", with taught muscle, broad shoulders, and thick skin, it's not uncommon for those who encounter her to mistake her for a man, or speculate about a possible giant lineage. Neither of these assumption prompt a very favorable reaction from the woman.
Beneath furs and linen is an imposing figure. Roskva has a sharp nose with wide nostrils, the bridge marked by a small scar, with a slight curve to the left from a previous break. She has a square, stony jaw, and slender bow shaped lips. Cold, dark brown eyes, deliver a piercing gaze, this combined with her bushy sunken brows give the girl a resting scowl. Her hair is unkempt, a deep oaken brunette that falls just below the chin, usually pinned back behind her ears.
Her arms, legs, and abdomen are marked by scars from hard labor and battles past fought with man and beast alike. Calloused hands mark a life of rugged work. Her left forearm is marked by ritualistic tattoos, bands of runes which recount a passage from Hyndluloth, the poem outlining Freya's encounter with her sacred boar Hildisvíni. This weaves around a simplistic depiction of a boar's head and a wreath of tusks on the back of her left hand (Roskva is left handed).
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Clothes and Equipment: Jǫfurrheðnar, an article of clothing as much as it is a title. The boar fur, an intricately crafted totemic garb fashioned from the head of a boar and the hide of the beast's back, it rests upon the head and cloaks the shoulders in the thick bristly fur of the beast, symbolic of the inseparable link between a totemic warrior and their spirit animal, and the beast taking over the human form. Adorned with a wreath of thin golden strands and charms, tributes of Freya, which serve to protect Roskva from malevolent forces. tusks hang from thick leather straps on either side of the head and adorn the chinstrap of the boar head shawl, clattering hollowly with one another as they knock about. The boar is an uncommon and atypical fylgja, the bear and wolf are by far the most typical to embrace for a warrior, making her stand out among peers.
Beneath her Jǫfurrheðnar, a red surcoat over a tattered, blood stained pleated tunic, the simple armor of a peasant-born warrior. A thick leather belt wraps around her waist, providing a sheath for weapons and keeping the fabric of her tunic close to the body and out of the way. Simple cotton pants and boar leather boots cover her lower half, the boots accented with furred cuffs. She has a pair of rabbit fur gloves, though they're only worn in the cold.
Like many facets of Roskva's kit and history, her weaponry is unconventional. Rather than favoring the bow for hunting and battle, Roskva prefers to use javelins and a bearded axe, weapons which tailor better to her raw strength. The javelins are hand carved, usually carefully decorated with braided patterns, adages from the epics, and runes of power. These are carried in a leather bundle case, usually three or four at a time. Her axe has a long handle with a slight curve, made of ash wood, and wrapped in latticed leather chord which binds tightly around the knob and the eye. She also carries a small seax, though it's more often used for skinning and carving than combat, it has a leather sheath of it's own and hangs from her belt at the hip. Roskva has been known to brandish a dane axe in battle, though this is not part of her regular kit and is used only in large battles.
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Allegiances: Leifheim, Taingaard
Registered: Jul 7, 2019 7:39:08 GMT -8
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Post by Rǫskva Bjalfidottir on Jul 9, 2019 5:09:40 GMT -8
Roskva let a breath slip she had not realized she had been holding, the firm but kind orders of the Tain easing her into the conversation as the tension of a first reaction from the woman was quickly broken by her call. Roskva raised her head, and found the courage to meet eyes with the imposing figure before her, teeth clenched tightly behind her lips as she steeled herself against her doubts of self. She gave a firm nod as Sigrid assured her she should stand proudly in the longhouse, if she was truly a warrior worth her mettle.
"Forgive me, My Tain, I meant no disrespect, thank you, for your understanding. The particulars of my meeting with you are of great purpose, I feared...squandering the opportunity." She explained, her voice low at first, but quickly rising to a resonant boom, a voice fitting of someone her size. She quickly reclaimed her gift, folding the pelt across her shoulder, so she would not have to hold it for the extent of their discussion. She pressed her leathery palms firmly against her knee and raised herself to her feet, letting them hang rigid at her sides.
The woman's expression quickly changed as Sigrid made mention of the purpose in her calling for such a meeting. That wide eyed worry, uncertain shifting, hardened to knotted scowl and tensed fury, one that the woman clearly fought to keep in check as she spoke, fighting the urge to bark the words as she was overcome with emotion. "Yes, Your Grace. I come to you today from Hvílabrekka, a small village not far from the edges of Deepwood. This village is the ward of Hrosskell Authulfsson. He is the one meant to guide the people there, to keep them safe, to help them thrive, to lead them in times of strife. I believe...I know Chieftan Authulfsson is no longer fit to rule. He's no longer fit to breathe, if you truly want honesty." she explained, growling the man's name as it left her lips, as though the very thought of him awoke something deeply primal within her. She took a sharp breath in through her nose before continuing.
"Our village has been plagued with misfortune the past few months. An unsuccessful raiding season lead into a harsh winter, and worse yet, sickness. In the face of all this, Authulfsson has forgotten his duty, his commitment, to the people who grovel at his feet and fill his longhouse with riches. I was gone for some time during his descent into this...writhing worm of a so called leader, but I know still of his corruption. He stopped paying families for those fallen in raids on his command, our vikings were robbed of all but the scraps of their efforts, and worse yet, he showed no sympathies for the families of the sick. His hands are slick with the blood of his own men, Tain Torsindottir!" she explained in a righteous tirade, fists quivering as she clenched them tightly.
"My father... He drew his blade on my father! For nothing more than questioning his leadership. He butchered him in his longhouse like a dog, despite all my father had done for him, for his village, for his family. My sick mother and I were branded traitors, criminals. We fled the village, but the strain of travel...she didn't survive." That booming voice faded to a broken murmur. Roskva's head fell as she felt a burning behind her eyes, fighting to keep the tears from coming as grief broke her composure. The towering warrior looked so small at that moment. She fell silent, fighting to pull herself back together, anticipating the response of the only woman who could help her find justice for her family.
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Sigrid Torinnsdottir
New
Roleplay posts: 6
Age: 38
Physical Description: Sigrid has braided hair, steel blue eyes though standing 1.7 m tall she isn't among the tallest of the women in Taingaard. She has white/blonde braided hair and decisive facial features.
Clothes and Equipment: Wears a leather laced amulet that has been passed down from generation to generation and mostly fur coats and clothes.
Registered: Jul 16, 2018 7:28:14 GMT -8
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Post by Sigrid Torinnsdottir on Jul 9, 2019 7:52:20 GMT -8
"I know you didn't, please continue." Sigrid answered as Roskva apologized. Perhaps she had been too hard on her? No, she was looking up now and seemed stronger and more resolute. What would be coming from her wasn't just about your everyday argument between neighbors about where to place the fence, Sigrid was sure - and she wasn't surprised. Perhaps only by the sheer amount of words that suddenly escaped Roskva's mouth as she got herself going. Following her words intently her expression changed according to Roskva's story and she felt both the sadness, anger and hopelessness.
"So this is why you have come to me, Roskva Bjalfidottir?" the tain leaning slightly back in her oaken throne stroking the armrest as she pondered her next words. A village leader was not easily replaced as he was an important linchpin in keeping together a small society. "Authulfsson has ever only served Leifheim in capacity as chieftain and has yet to cause me any concern regarding either loyalty nor competence." Sigrid would answer Roskva with a sincere voice pausing slightly to ponder her next move.
"However the way you speak against him concerns me deeply, a village chieftain should rule with wit and strength, using these faculties for the best of the village." she pointed out, wondering if it was really as bad as Roskva had made it sound. She did not look like one to try and manipulate the tain to usurp such a position for herself, yet Sigrid could not rule out that in a very few cases, martial punishment would be necessary if someone threatened to topple the village by questioning its lead and joining people behind them. When this happened, there was sure to be belittled friends and grieving family members aiming for revenge.
"If I was to believe your words, what would you have me do? I cannot go ordering his death or I would have fifty people standing at my gate tomorrow claiming the same thing you did simply to rise in station. You're telling me than you don't want him breathing anymore, but such a service I cannot grant you." Sigrid said, her words a little harder than before. "Your own station right now does not befit me doing anything at all. I can call him to audience, but against his words as chieftain you own will not even register and you will likely end up branded as traitor in the entire realm, if he truly is the worm you accuse him to be." Sigrid said and sighed, but she wanted to make it very clear to Roskva, what she meant, so that she understood.
"Right now there is nothing either of us can do about the situation unless the whole city comes before me and repeats what you said. But since they aren't here I wouldn't bet on it right?" she said, her voice more compassionate now than before. "So you understand? Your station within Leifheim is not sufficient to challenge by law. Yet." Sigrid added a faint smirk appearing on her face. "But you are a warrior aren't you? And you are standing inside my hall as a warrior isn't that also true? Let me tell you that there are ways to rise above your station and above Authulfsson's station. If you want to take on that path - and succeed - then I can help you, because then you have proven yourself worthy beyond doubt and that your soul and word is pure." Sigrid said and added. "Aspire to become a Blood Warrior. Ever heard about those?" she asked as her smirk broadened as awaiting the young warrior's reaction to her offer.
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Rǫskva Bjalfidottir
Established
Roleplay posts: 10
Age: 23
Physical Description: ---------------------------------------------------------
Roskva lives up to her namesake, a woman of unusual physical stature, the embodiment of power and prowess. Standing at a stocky 6'1", with taught muscle, broad shoulders, and thick skin, it's not uncommon for those who encounter her to mistake her for a man, or speculate about a possible giant lineage. Neither of these assumption prompt a very favorable reaction from the woman.
Beneath furs and linen is an imposing figure. Roskva has a sharp nose with wide nostrils, the bridge marked by a small scar, with a slight curve to the left from a previous break. She has a square, stony jaw, and slender bow shaped lips. Cold, dark brown eyes, deliver a piercing gaze, this combined with her bushy sunken brows give the girl a resting scowl. Her hair is unkempt, a deep oaken brunette that falls just below the chin, usually pinned back behind her ears.
Her arms, legs, and abdomen are marked by scars from hard labor and battles past fought with man and beast alike. Calloused hands mark a life of rugged work. Her left forearm is marked by ritualistic tattoos, bands of runes which recount a passage from Hyndluloth, the poem outlining Freya's encounter with her sacred boar Hildisvíni. This weaves around a simplistic depiction of a boar's head and a wreath of tusks on the back of her left hand (Roskva is left handed).
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Clothes and Equipment: Jǫfurrheðnar, an article of clothing as much as it is a title. The boar fur, an intricately crafted totemic garb fashioned from the head of a boar and the hide of the beast's back, it rests upon the head and cloaks the shoulders in the thick bristly fur of the beast, symbolic of the inseparable link between a totemic warrior and their spirit animal, and the beast taking over the human form. Adorned with a wreath of thin golden strands and charms, tributes of Freya, which serve to protect Roskva from malevolent forces. tusks hang from thick leather straps on either side of the head and adorn the chinstrap of the boar head shawl, clattering hollowly with one another as they knock about. The boar is an uncommon and atypical fylgja, the bear and wolf are by far the most typical to embrace for a warrior, making her stand out among peers.
Beneath her Jǫfurrheðnar, a red surcoat over a tattered, blood stained pleated tunic, the simple armor of a peasant-born warrior. A thick leather belt wraps around her waist, providing a sheath for weapons and keeping the fabric of her tunic close to the body and out of the way. Simple cotton pants and boar leather boots cover her lower half, the boots accented with furred cuffs. She has a pair of rabbit fur gloves, though they're only worn in the cold.
Like many facets of Roskva's kit and history, her weaponry is unconventional. Rather than favoring the bow for hunting and battle, Roskva prefers to use javelins and a bearded axe, weapons which tailor better to her raw strength. The javelins are hand carved, usually carefully decorated with braided patterns, adages from the epics, and runes of power. These are carried in a leather bundle case, usually three or four at a time. Her axe has a long handle with a slight curve, made of ash wood, and wrapped in latticed leather chord which binds tightly around the knob and the eye. She also carries a small seax, though it's more often used for skinning and carving than combat, it has a leather sheath of it's own and hangs from her belt at the hip. Roskva has been known to brandish a dane axe in battle, though this is not part of her regular kit and is used only in large battles.
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Allegiances: Leifheim, Taingaard
Registered: Jul 7, 2019 7:39:08 GMT -8
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Post by Rǫskva Bjalfidottir on Jul 10, 2019 6:33:15 GMT -8
The broken huntress gave a solemn nod as Sigrid confirmed the reasoning behind this meeting, and went on to give her thoughts on all she had said and done. In the time she took to listen, Roskva managed to recompose herself and stand tall once again, resolute to appear as stable and respectable as she could in the face of the Tain. That moment of weakness would not taint her entire talk with the noblewoman. Sigrid's kind tone was enough to placate Roskva as she listened to words which sung Authulfsson's achievements and loyalty to the throne. Had she taken another approach with those words, the huntress wasn't sure she would've stood so idly in the hall. It was a testament to Sigrid's tact and charm. She was not surprised however, that the Tain had few ill suspicions of the chieftain. It was no doubt a Tain's far reaching eye left dozens of blind spots missed. A person of this caliber simply didn't have time to micromanage every moving piece of her political machine. That however, didn't change the fact that Authulfsson had proved himself to be the weak link in the mail.
"I understand your history with the man, My Tain. I make no arguments against your experience, but only a fool would show their wolfish form in front of the shepherd. Authulfsson is despicable, but he is not stupid. I would not be surprised if he's hidden his true nature from your eyes. The man is driven only by his desire for power, if you're the one whose giving him that power, he'll happily sing and dance to your tune. I would not have come to waste your time with this if I did not know it to be true. I've just admitted to you my brand as a criminal to the realm, the Tain herself. I would not make such a risk without a just cause." she continued, trying her best to explain her position, and highlight the risk she had taken in even coming to Leifheim to address the matter. She knew the Tain to be smart, Roskva had high hopes that she would understand her position, at the very least, even if she could not offer much in the way of aid.
She nodded firmly as the Tain went on to explain the complicated matter of her involvement. The flush of hot anger behind Roskva's cheeks was quickly dispelled as Sigrid explained exactly how much of a mess it would make for her to get involved so forcefully in the situation. This was the forethought of a true leader, she could harbor no ill will against the woman, as much as she hated the facts of the matter. An acquiescent grumble slipped from between her teeth.
"Of course you are right, Your Grace. This would set a standard for conflicts in the future, one that would complicate the way these matters end up playing out for the rest of time. Forgive me for my lack of thought into those consequences. I had no illusions of my status as common born factoring in to all this. Authulfsson can't be touched, not with my testimony alone..." She agreed, a nod which slumped into a hanging of her head as a moment of defeat followed. She lifted her gaze once again. "There is something you could do for me now, however. A pardon from Tain Torrinsdottir. As it stands I am still wanted in Leifheim, and while you may let me walk out of this long house, it will only be a matter of time before a mercenary or opportunistic chieftain takes the chance to claim my head. I realize this is not a small ask of you, Your Grace, but if you truly have any belief in my innocence, in my story, then letting me walk out of here a wanted woman is no different than a death sentence." she answered firmly, doing her best to appeal her case in a convincing but neutral manner. "If I am to walk a criminal, then I have little reason not to put a blade to Authulfsson myself. I could have done so already, but I came here instead. I came to you because I wanted to do this the right way, the proper way. I would take no pride in dying an enemy to the realm. I have a great respect for you, Tain Torrinsdottir." she continued, hoping the fact that she had willingly gone out of her way to deal with Authulfsson in a sanctioned, legal manner would lend credence to her character and the truth of her story. She could only hope the Tain understood the intent of her words.
Sigrid continued with another line of thought, one which seemed to compliment her own thinking on the matter. Roskva's mouth hung ajar ever so slightly as the Tain added an addendum to her seemingly fatalistic spiel about the futility of the situation. A yet...that yet was a spark of hope, the dying flame of her justice. Roskva watched Sigrid carefully, like a hungry predator, desperate for her to continue, that devious smirk causing her heart to race. She knew the Tain was a good woman, one who always had an answer for even the most hopeless circumstances. She was what leaders were meant to look like. Roskva cocked a bushy brow as the words left Sigrid's lips. "A Blood Warrior? They were rarely spoken of when I was a girl. If becoming one would give me the esteem needed to challenge Authulfsson then whatever it takes, I will do. There is no question in my heart, Your Grace. I would gladly march into Hel to see Authulfsson brought to justice." She finally spoke with the authoritative vigor of a proud warrior, the fire in her eyes left no question of her resolve and commitment to this opportunity. If she had to become one of these Blood Warriors, then she simply would. There was no question of 'might' or 'try'.
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Sigrid Torinnsdottir
New
Roleplay posts: 6
Age: 38
Physical Description: Sigrid has braided hair, steel blue eyes though standing 1.7 m tall she isn't among the tallest of the women in Taingaard. She has white/blonde braided hair and decisive facial features.
Clothes and Equipment: Wears a leather laced amulet that has been passed down from generation to generation and mostly fur coats and clothes.
Registered: Jul 16, 2018 7:28:14 GMT -8
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Post by Sigrid Torinnsdottir on Jul 11, 2019 12:01:16 GMT -8
A Blood Warrior could, above all, not be uncaring - they had to possess a certain will and passion for what they believed in. Rosvka's persistence of Authulfsson's despicable character was oddly commendable - refreshing even - as Sigrid felt a directness to her speech that boded well for own character. It was however still a surprise as she asked her for another favor - yet it was a natural thing to ask for of course.
"I understand your plea, a new start is no true chance if you are burdened with the past. As such by accepting my proposal you shall have your named cleaned until you've proven worthy or - otherwise." Sigrid said firmly listening to her halfway accepting the challenge. "Blood Warriors are paragons of courage, grit and kindness towards kin, it is not a challenge taken upon lightly, yet I offer you this difficult path." Sigrid said and paused slightly narrowing her eyes, yet she would not present more warnings lest they would be seen as demeaning towards the willful heart.
"If you choose to accept I will have a series of challenges for you to complete, where completions is the lesser of the goals and the way you complete them is what matters the most. As a Blood Warrior one must be able to use wit and cunning, yet see the whole picture before acting. Blood Warriors hearts must carry mercy, yet it is the mercy towards the greater good and not letting the pitiful existence go in a failed attempt of such." she stressed giving her a small idea of what this may involve and that it will certainly test her beyond her physical limitations.
"Come over here, move closer..." Sigrid said as she came to a standing and waved Roskva closer. "Kneel down before me." she said her voice cool yet friendly and she would proceed to put her hand on Roskva's forehead. "It is a pleasure for me to turn another worthy soul onto their life's journey. Roskva Bjalfisdottir - I hereby set you upon the Blood Path, an honor and a curse which will follow you until you succeed - or death will forfeit your name from the path." Sigrid said loudly and clearly. "Please stand again Warror of The Blood Path." she said and smiled proudly. Being set upon the Blood Path was honorable and anyone affiliated with Taingaard would be obliged to help her in her path towards becoming a Blood Warrior and - at the very least - show her respect for what she was trying to reach.
"While on the Blood Path your past means nothing and you have no future. As such your former deeds and accomplishments means nothing, and also your crimes are stricken, yet you may take no family, settle nowhere and build nothing until you've accomplished what you've set upon." the tain explained and nodded at Roskva before sitting down into her throne again.
"I will immediately give you your first task. Every year The Hunt happens in Taingaard and able warriors show their valor by slaying monsters that roam our lands. This year a group of foreigners won The Hunt, and one of them was granted Blood Warrior for her exceptional skill in aiding Taingaard in this - outside The Hunt too. Going to another country you don't know and start battling their worst foes is something I admire much as tain and as such I shall have you do so too. God to another nation outside Taingaard and slay a monster in the name of Taingaard and bring proof back along with you. Do this, and the first step is completed." Sigrid said, waiting for Roskva to willingly comply.
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Rǫskva Bjalfidottir
Established
Roleplay posts: 10
Age: 23
Physical Description: ---------------------------------------------------------
Roskva lives up to her namesake, a woman of unusual physical stature, the embodiment of power and prowess. Standing at a stocky 6'1", with taught muscle, broad shoulders, and thick skin, it's not uncommon for those who encounter her to mistake her for a man, or speculate about a possible giant lineage. Neither of these assumption prompt a very favorable reaction from the woman.
Beneath furs and linen is an imposing figure. Roskva has a sharp nose with wide nostrils, the bridge marked by a small scar, with a slight curve to the left from a previous break. She has a square, stony jaw, and slender bow shaped lips. Cold, dark brown eyes, deliver a piercing gaze, this combined with her bushy sunken brows give the girl a resting scowl. Her hair is unkempt, a deep oaken brunette that falls just below the chin, usually pinned back behind her ears.
Her arms, legs, and abdomen are marked by scars from hard labor and battles past fought with man and beast alike. Calloused hands mark a life of rugged work. Her left forearm is marked by ritualistic tattoos, bands of runes which recount a passage from Hyndluloth, the poem outlining Freya's encounter with her sacred boar Hildisvíni. This weaves around a simplistic depiction of a boar's head and a wreath of tusks on the back of her left hand (Roskva is left handed).
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Clothes and Equipment: Jǫfurrheðnar, an article of clothing as much as it is a title. The boar fur, an intricately crafted totemic garb fashioned from the head of a boar and the hide of the beast's back, it rests upon the head and cloaks the shoulders in the thick bristly fur of the beast, symbolic of the inseparable link between a totemic warrior and their spirit animal, and the beast taking over the human form. Adorned with a wreath of thin golden strands and charms, tributes of Freya, which serve to protect Roskva from malevolent forces. tusks hang from thick leather straps on either side of the head and adorn the chinstrap of the boar head shawl, clattering hollowly with one another as they knock about. The boar is an uncommon and atypical fylgja, the bear and wolf are by far the most typical to embrace for a warrior, making her stand out among peers.
Beneath her Jǫfurrheðnar, a red surcoat over a tattered, blood stained pleated tunic, the simple armor of a peasant-born warrior. A thick leather belt wraps around her waist, providing a sheath for weapons and keeping the fabric of her tunic close to the body and out of the way. Simple cotton pants and boar leather boots cover her lower half, the boots accented with furred cuffs. She has a pair of rabbit fur gloves, though they're only worn in the cold.
Like many facets of Roskva's kit and history, her weaponry is unconventional. Rather than favoring the bow for hunting and battle, Roskva prefers to use javelins and a bearded axe, weapons which tailor better to her raw strength. The javelins are hand carved, usually carefully decorated with braided patterns, adages from the epics, and runes of power. These are carried in a leather bundle case, usually three or four at a time. Her axe has a long handle with a slight curve, made of ash wood, and wrapped in latticed leather chord which binds tightly around the knob and the eye. She also carries a small seax, though it's more often used for skinning and carving than combat, it has a leather sheath of it's own and hangs from her belt at the hip. Roskva has been known to brandish a dane axe in battle, though this is not part of her regular kit and is used only in large battles.
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Allegiances: Leifheim, Taingaard
Registered: Jul 7, 2019 7:39:08 GMT -8
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Post by Rǫskva Bjalfidottir on Jul 11, 2019 14:36:32 GMT -8
Roskva fought the urge to smile as Sigrid agreed with her plea for help, and agreed to see her name cleared as she took an oath to The Bloody Path. Her stern resolve was unflinching in the face of the Tain's warnings about the rigorous nature of the road ahead of her, and the fact that through death would be her only freedom from the commitment. She had struggled just as much on her path to becoming a totem warrior, she was certain she could brave the trials of becoming a blood warrior. Roskva gave a firm nod to the woman.
"Yes My Tain, I understand. Failure simply isn't an option on this matter, I have no concerns for the strenuous cost of victory, defeat is not an option. I thank you, graciously, for the opportunity. I promise not to squander it." she asserted firmly, doing her best to signal her understanding of both the importance of what she was agreeing to and her dedication to both the Sigrid's investment in her and the task itself. She could not fully express how much this all meant to her, to have a complete stranger, one of noble blood no less, be willing to go out of her way for Roskva and the memory of her family was wholly indescribable. Generosity was rare among warriors, the huntress would dedicate herself to repaying it twice over, when the time came.
She stood attentively as the Tain went on to explain the terms of the assignment, though she already knew in her heart she would accept, no matter what burden she was meant to bear. It all seemed of reasonable expectation, though Sigrid stressed mercy, and Roskva wondered if the woman knew how difficult it would be for her to find that part of herself again in these trials. It was the one thing she was not certain of her capacity for any longer. She tried to force the thought from her mind, and focus on the moment instead.
The lumbering warrior took slow, even steps closer at Sigrid's call, gently lowering herself, as she had when she first entered the hall. This time honor and duty flowed through her, rather than fear. She raised her head graciously as Tain Torinnsdottir gently placed her hand upon her forehead and anointed her a Warrior of the Blood Path, a title which would resonate in her heart as she was called to stand and assume it. "Thank you, Tain Torinnsdottir, I will walk the path with my head held high and my resolve unshakable." she affirmed. The kind smile on her face, that look of pride, it brought with it memories of those she had lost. Roskva answered the final terms of her new covenant with a steeled nod. Family, home, and property had all but been robbed from her as it was. She had no desire to pursue anything but the tools she would need to destroy the man who had taken them from her in the first place.
Ready to accept her first task, the huntress paid careful attention to what she would set out to achieve. She felt herself brimming with confidence as the mention of hunting was brought up. Travel was something the girl was wholly unfamiliar with, but she had been slaying beasts since she was old enough to hold a weapon. The prospect of travelling to help those in need in another kingdom was an exciting prospect, and she hoped she could do the task justice and bring honor to Taingaard with its swift completion.
"I shall set out immediately. I have no doubts my competence in slaying a beast in the name of the realm, I assure you I will return covered in the blood of such an enemy, and bring with me the acclaims and commendations of Taingaard, and you, Tain Torrinsdottir." She stated with stern resolution, an almost matter-of-fact tone. Roskva gave one final bow of her head before turning and swiftly making her way out of the longhouse, a burning passion in her heart as she took the first steps down the path of blood which would lead her to retribution.
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