Rutgard Isenhall
Established
Roleplay posts: 48 
Age: 28
Physical Description: 6'2, broad shoulders and strong arms, generally wears his hair in some sort of braid. Avatar is otherwise accurate.
Clothes and Equipment: Rutgard has a distinct lack of caring for finery and generally wears plain clothing of linen or leather. During the winter he has a cloak of fur pieced together by some of the elder women who care for him when he returns from the hunt. He carries a large two handed axe that has been inscribed with ruins along the eye.
Registered: Aug 23, 2018 5:26:27 GMT -8
|
Post by Rutgard Isenhall on May 24, 2019 12:59:49 GMT -8
Isgerd's teasing was not ignored, nor did he take it too lightly in jest for his belief in very real gods who did have a threatening manner was part of his very composition. They told him to be brave and to use his strength for honor. To serve his Tain fiercely. He feared them and his fate without them but he was reassured by his very intention to keep fighting that he would be in the long hall after his death should he die with blade in hand.
Elizabeth pondered what might be available for the wolves to hunt but to his knowledge not much was larger than a deer. Skullroy was not his home due to his loyalties and he might have answered should the little bird that was their friend not have suddenly been in dire peril.
Shielding his gaze from the brightness of the dome as Isgerd flew upward he watched and then in horror saw her smack it before diving down. The swan dive was not graceful, nor purposeful and the same instant that Liz was rushing towards her griffin he also did the same. The fastest mode of transportation was all that would be suitable and while he expected them to land before rushing inward it appeared that was not the plan. It was only with the little bit of swift thought he had left that he one-handed tossed Isgerd's clothes and their packs onto the beach of the lake itself. It might have landed in the water but his toss was done with great strength and his aim was not poor from years of practice. His balance, however, on the back of the Griffin appeared to be rather poor as he slipped backwards. Grabbing onto Liz might have damned her further drawing her in well before she reached Isgerd and was able to use her companion to get them out of the water so he didn't. His one chance was given to the girl instead of himself.
Falling backwards the ice was not so thick as to break him but he did fall through and into the depths. Opening his eyes once he calmed he had done the same as a boy once, threatened by being beneath the water. It took calm which the mind threatened to overtake wanting to scramble and fight but he had to, not take a deep breath, but at least take a second in order to bring himself together. His eyes stung from the ice and cold but he focused them looking for the faintly brighter part of the water above him. Swimming upward he had not cracked the entire lake and thus he was able to find the small opening in which he brought himself through. Keeping afloat within the water there was clean cool air that filled his lungs. Breathing heavily he positioned himself on the edge of the ice. He would have to duck and then swim upward with all his might flattening himself once he came up on the edge to where he was quite flat. Glad of the fact he wore his clothes the ice would not tear his skin a she placed his plan into action.
|
|
Taingaard
Dedicated
Land of The Thousand Faces
Roleplay posts: 125
Age: 1100
Registered: Jul 9, 2018 12:06:58 GMT -8
|
Post by Taingaard on May 25, 2019 12:18:39 GMT -8
Crashing through the thin ice the wayfinder luckily only feel a few meters beneath before the claws of the gryphon reached her and the wings of Saint George lifted her up to the surface again along with Liz but all of them properly drenched in the ice cold water from the experience - but the nearby ice much too thin to land on they would need to find a better spot.
With Rutgard in his haste to try and save Isgerd recklessly dotting out on the thin ice he too would crash through it and end up quite drenched and cold and laying quite flat on the ice above the water he might be able to drag himself to the shore, but surely not to the other side without some help.
|
|
Rutgard Isenhall
Established
Roleplay posts: 48
Age: 28
Physical Description: 6'2, broad shoulders and strong arms, generally wears his hair in some sort of braid. Avatar is otherwise accurate.
Clothes and Equipment: Rutgard has a distinct lack of caring for finery and generally wears plain clothing of linen or leather. During the winter he has a cloak of fur pieced together by some of the elder women who care for him when he returns from the hunt. He carries a large two handed axe that has been inscribed with ruins along the eye.
Registered: Aug 23, 2018 5:26:27 GMT -8
|
Post by Rutgard Isenhall on May 30, 2019 20:20:58 GMT -8
Elizabeth could meet him on either side of the lake itself and his concern was not for the women, who he saw rising out of the water without issue. The Griffin could quite easily break through the ice from below where as he had to find the opening he’d entered through to have any chance. Had he not been somewhat experienced around ice he might have attempted to swim and rescue Isgerd but they were a team and as a team they worked together. Elizabeth had rescued her, Isgerd’s clothes were dry, and she would be fine shortly.
He on the other hand needed to sort out his own mess. Resting on the edge of the hold he had his arms and legs spread apart. Normally there would be those on the shore throwing a rope to rescue him but if he waited he might freeze to the very ice itself. Reaching his right hand back he found a side pocket which held throwing knives. He extracted two. He would work his way to shore by very lightly tapping the ice in order to find purchase with the knife and drawing himself forward going back and forth between his right and left hand. It was thick enough he might have been able to walk but after crashing through he required no repeat of that venture.
|
|
Isgerd
Established
Wayfinder
Roleplay posts: 40 
Age: 23
Physical Description: A shapeshifter who finds it easy to slip into the skin and feathers of a raven, Isgerd was raised by her druidic people in the forest of Gronskog. Not finding a settled life to her taste, she took many detours before she made her way to Vikhafen to offer her services to the Tain as a scout, messenger and guide.
Clothes and Equipment: Tall and leanly muscular, she walks with a light step. Dressed in the colours of the wilderness, browns, greys and greens, she livens up her practical wear with beads and feathers. Her hair is reddish-brown and worn in a long braid. She has pale skin and ice-blue eyes that don't seem to miss much.
Allegiances: Taingaard
Registered: Jul 12, 2018 1:08:26 GMT -8
|
Post by Isgerd on Jun 4, 2019 9:29:00 GMT -8
She was encased in a block of ice. A mountain of ice. She could see through it but the forms beyond were distorted and feint. She tried to move her fingers, her toes. Nothing. It was cold, so cold, so bastard well cold. A black shape descended from the sky, huge and imposing. She could barely see around it, through the ice. “Well, then, druid Isgerd, calling yourself Hraefansdottir, is this what you do with my gifts?” The voice croaked, and she could feel it all through her, reverberating through the ice.
“To know a creature's shape you need to know a creature's mind. What is a raven, Isgerd? Is a raven stupid? Is it careless? Does it fly into solid objects and break its beak? Is it for this that I taught you my tongue and my skill?” Isgerd tried to respond, she found a voice deep inside, but she couldn't move her mouth or her tongue, still frozen as they were. A noise came out of her, suggesting fear, defiance, pleading. The giant raven's eye moved close to the ice, she saw it huge and black. It blinked twice.
“Be smarter, little miss no-feathers,” said the raven. It began to peck. Peck, peck, peck, with its huge beak at the ice. Each blow of its beak made Isgerd's head hurt as though it was being stuck with a pick axe. Peck, peck, peck. The ice began to crack. After a while, as the ice cracked away she was able to move a little. Her fingers came free first, her arms and legs, and finally the ice cracked and crumbled away from her face. As she drew herself out of the rest of the ice, the raven turned and raised its wings. “One more chance,” it said, looking over its shoulder, before it beat its huge black wings and flapped off into the sky. One feather fell, and Isgerd's ice-cold fingers reached out and grabbed it.
She woke up with a gasp. She was shivering all over, her body white and covered in goosebumps like a plucked chicken. Blood was spilling from her nose and by the pain alone she could tell it was broken. “Fuuuck,” she uttered through chattering teeth, as her body tried to curl itself up to conserve its fleeing warmth but couldn't. The wind was cold, and she was being restrained by something. Through teary eyes she peered and noticed … talons. She was in the air, and St. George had her. What the hell even happened? Aside from cold and pain and talons, there was one other thing she felt. Her left hand was curled around something.... a new feather. Without looking she clutched on tightly, willing herself to endure the cold. Liz had her, she would be safe. She would be safe.
|
|
Elizabeth Finch
Main Character
Roleplay posts: 512
Age: 29
Physical Description: Elizabeth, or Liz, stands at about 5'9", weighing in at about 160lbs, most of it muscle from years of riding and fighting. She has platinum blonde hair, usually tied in a ponytail to fit inside her helmet. Her eyes are a vibrant shade of green that contrasts well with her tanned skin. She would be considered attractive if she ever removed her armor, otherwise her face is the only indication that underneath the iron discipline and plate armor is an attractive woman.
Clothes and Equipment: Liz wears a normal looking set of plate armor that is custom fitted for her specifically, and does not hide her gender. She wields a lance when mounted. Javelins are carried in her mounts saddle. Her mount is a young Griffin by the name of St. George, he is full grown in height, but does not yet have the full mass of a adult griffin. She wears plain clothes when not in armor and her shield bears the symbol of the Dawn Riders on it, and her breastplate bears the symbol of Isra on it. She wears a small necklace with a purple gemstone on it underneath her breastplate, only visible when she she is unarmored. Her sword has the insignia of the midnight sun engraved in the hilt, as it is relatively out of sight and does not violate the military dress code. Her primary weapon is her sword, an ancient Elven artifact passed down by her bloodline. It is wreathed in green lightning when unsheathed and wielded by her, and she has a sunmetal shield that complements it with magical abilities of its own.
Player's online availability : Weekends/Nights EST
Registered: Apr 6, 2016 12:16:13 GMT -8
|
Post by Elizabeth Finch on Jun 4, 2019 10:09:20 GMT -8
Liz was colder than she had ever been in her life, as St. George flew them back to the rock outcropping where Isgerd's clothes lay. She could feel the cold water soaking into every ounce if her being as the cold wind whipped by her in the air. But she had Isgerd, or at least St. George did, and he seemed fairly unaffected by the cold.
He alighted on the cliffside with a gentle thump, one talon releasing Isgerd into the snow. Liz nearly collapsed off his back, her shaking almost uncontrollable as she pulled a small item from her pocket and pressed it into the snow, yanking her hand away as it erupted into a small flame. She looked around to ask Rutgard to grab some wood when she realized he was not with them any more.
"Gods dammit!" She exclaimed, dragging Isgerd over to the fire. She couldn't afford to leave again, doing so could potentially kill her. She laid one hand on St. George's flank as he looked at her with concern, trying to wrap his wings around her to keep her warm.
"I need you to go find Rutgard. Isgerd can't be left alone. Find him and bring him here!" Go!" She ordered, the griffin stamping one talon in frustrated acceptance before taking to the sky in search of their third companion.
|
|
Taingaard
Dedicated
Land of The Thousand Faces
Roleplay posts: 125
Age: 1100
Registered: Jul 9, 2018 12:06:58 GMT -8
|
Post by Taingaard on Jun 5, 2019 5:31:23 GMT -8
As Liz and Isgerd would be fighting to keep the shivering at bay St. George would find Rutgard having just about reeled himself to the shore of the lake. Even someone like St. George had to consider the effects of the freezing water though and would likely not be able to fly around much longer today. For the team to find wood they would have to make it first by chopping down the few trees in their vicinity, but it might just prove enough for now if they started with the branches.
The lake itself was quite expansive and unless they chose to fly, a trip either left or right around the lake would be inevitable. The right was the longest, but as Isgerd must have noticed before taking a dive, it was also the slightly downhill and more naturally followed the flow of the valley that bend slightly to the right.
But as Rut was about to pull himself the last way up the lake he would feel a sudden warmth, a warmth coming from underneath the ice but without melting it. It would be comforting and almost like sitting in front of heart wearing your favorite fur blanket - one is cooled down as he would be foolish to move further ahead onto the snow.
The next thing that happened was a hand reaching through the ice beside him to touch his shoulder, the warmth immediately penetrating deep into his body and if he turned to looked the youthful face of a boy having yet to cross into his twenties appeared. Short blonde hair, friendly features and concerned dark blue eyes met him - but yet no words as the boy who had melted a hole big enough in the ice to just pop up spoke no words.
|
|
Rutgard Isenhall
Established
Roleplay posts: 48
Age: 28
Physical Description: 6'2, broad shoulders and strong arms, generally wears his hair in some sort of braid. Avatar is otherwise accurate.
Clothes and Equipment: Rutgard has a distinct lack of caring for finery and generally wears plain clothing of linen or leather. During the winter he has a cloak of fur pieced together by some of the elder women who care for him when he returns from the hunt. He carries a large two handed axe that has been inscribed with ruins along the eye.
Registered: Aug 23, 2018 5:26:27 GMT -8
|
Post by Rutgard Isenhall on Jun 5, 2019 17:36:32 GMT -8
Dragging himself across the very thick ice he'd somehow managed to tumble through he'd been bruised later. Black and blue around his sacrum where he'd initially made contact and slipped into the freezing slush. Cursing his dastardly luck with the Griffin, who was now like devil hearing his name popping down to the side of the very lake itself he waved it off.
"Wait there," he told it. He'd be there soon enough to join it and while it was not advisable for it to fly so its wings would not gather ice like crystals along the lines of its very feathers. The creature was too marvelous to face a fate of death by freefall for a poor decision on his part. About to reach the shore he was in the process of straightening. He was on his knees and hands the biting cold digging into the bare skin.
Then there was warmth, he knew from experience that warmth in such a place was a horrible thing. It meant that his mind was either playing tricks or- his thought process was interrupted by the boy, glancing down between the ice he wasn't quite certain what to make of the thing. Thing was a nice term for he thought it a creature to be encased in such ice and to appear so suddenly. He must be surely succumbing to the cold but it had not been long enough, he was still shivering and to be truly gone he'd have to stop.
"A boy in a lake," he spoke his mind aloud looking down to him, "Do you require aid?"
|
|
Isgerd
Established
Wayfinder
Roleplay posts: 40
Age: 23
Physical Description: A shapeshifter who finds it easy to slip into the skin and feathers of a raven, Isgerd was raised by her druidic people in the forest of Gronskog. Not finding a settled life to her taste, she took many detours before she made her way to Vikhafen to offer her services to the Tain as a scout, messenger and guide.
Clothes and Equipment: Tall and leanly muscular, she walks with a light step. Dressed in the colours of the wilderness, browns, greys and greens, she livens up her practical wear with beads and feathers. Her hair is reddish-brown and worn in a long braid. She has pale skin and ice-blue eyes that don't seem to miss much.
Allegiances: Taingaard
Registered: Jul 12, 2018 1:08:26 GMT -8
|
Post by Isgerd on Jun 15, 2019 11:24:10 GMT -8
Isgerd rolled as she was released from St George's talon into the snow. Shivering she tried to make herself into a ball. The snow was warmer than the air above anyway, and she almost tried to huddle into it. Aside from that she could barely move, her limbs were frozen and even the blood from her nose had turned to frost on her face.
She felt capable hands grabbing hold of her and moving her towards … warmth - a small source of heat. It was the heat from the hands that had moved her that warmed Isgerd the most though. She looked up at her rescuer, though her eyes were bruised almost shut, and raised her hand to take hold of Liz's wrist. “Liz, I'm cold, hold me,” she said, clutching on to the griffon rider. It was far from the joking tone in which she'd tried to get Liz into compromising positions before. From her shivering and icy skin, this time the raven shifter seemed to have a practical reason. “Where's Rut?” she asked as she attempted to snuggle close to Liz to share her body heat.
|
|
Elizabeth Finch
Main Character
Roleplay posts: 512
Age: 29
Physical Description: Elizabeth, or Liz, stands at about 5'9", weighing in at about 160lbs, most of it muscle from years of riding and fighting. She has platinum blonde hair, usually tied in a ponytail to fit inside her helmet. Her eyes are a vibrant shade of green that contrasts well with her tanned skin. She would be considered attractive if she ever removed her armor, otherwise her face is the only indication that underneath the iron discipline and plate armor is an attractive woman.
Clothes and Equipment: Liz wears a normal looking set of plate armor that is custom fitted for her specifically, and does not hide her gender. She wields a lance when mounted. Javelins are carried in her mounts saddle. Her mount is a young Griffin by the name of St. George, he is full grown in height, but does not yet have the full mass of a adult griffin. She wears plain clothes when not in armor and her shield bears the symbol of the Dawn Riders on it, and her breastplate bears the symbol of Isra on it. She wears a small necklace with a purple gemstone on it underneath her breastplate, only visible when she she is unarmored. Her sword has the insignia of the midnight sun engraved in the hilt, as it is relatively out of sight and does not violate the military dress code. Her primary weapon is her sword, an ancient Elven artifact passed down by her bloodline. It is wreathed in green lightning when unsheathed and wielded by her, and she has a sunmetal shield that complements it with magical abilities of its own.
Player's online availability : Weekends/Nights EST
Registered: Apr 6, 2016 12:16:13 GMT -8
|
Post by Elizabeth Finch on Jun 16, 2019 9:25:57 GMT -8
"It's okay Isgerd, everything is gonna be alright. W-w-we will be fine." Liz stammered out, pulling Isgerd in close around the tiny semblance of a fire.
"Rut...St. George went to get him, he's okay too, just fell off. He's stubborn though, won't let some snow and ice beat him." While she said this, St. George was waiting rather impatiently on the edge of the lake for Rutgard to reach him.
"What happened up there Isgerd?"
|
|
Taingaard
Dedicated
Land of The Thousand Faces
Roleplay posts: 125
Age: 1100
Registered: Jul 9, 2018 12:06:58 GMT -8
|
Post by Taingaard on Jun 16, 2019 12:31:06 GMT -8
The boy lit up in a carefree smile when the warrior asked him, if he required aid. Was that really the first and most important thing to him right now while he lay there shivering and all soaked in water? It made him happy and hopeful that a man of such character had dropped into their lake.
"I do, thank you. But you and your friends need it more urgently. Wait here for a moment." his voice measured and good-natured his body diving beneath the water again an eel with no splash at all. Seconds passed and the heat the boy had been providing Rutgard quickly faded as he was left to wait and minutes passed before finally his face returned to the surface and assuming Rutgard was still there the boy would speak.
"You can borrow this - it's very warm." he said and lifted a palm sized lava stone from beneath the surface of the water, its warmth radiating with an immense and comforting heat from the stone the glowed a dim orange from within. "Here take it and bring it back to your friends - it's not too hot to hold, its warmth is the magic of our people." the boy put it in the palm of Rutgard and he would immediately feel a comforting heat as if he was placed right in front of a blazing hearth or a bonfire, the heat spreading at least thirty feet in all directions.
But before letting go of the stone the boy would take Rutgard's hand.
"Promise us to come back - we do need your help..!" his voice now sincere and firm, and if Rutgard promised so, he would be allowed to return with the stone.
|
|
Rutgard Isenhall
Established
Roleplay posts: 48
Age: 28
Physical Description: 6'2, broad shoulders and strong arms, generally wears his hair in some sort of braid. Avatar is otherwise accurate.
Clothes and Equipment: Rutgard has a distinct lack of caring for finery and generally wears plain clothing of linen or leather. During the winter he has a cloak of fur pieced together by some of the elder women who care for him when he returns from the hunt. He carries a large two handed axe that has been inscribed with ruins along the eye.
Registered: Aug 23, 2018 5:26:27 GMT -8
|
Post by Rutgard Isenhall on Jun 16, 2019 12:45:00 GMT -8
Rutgard had heard once of a lady within a lake, rumored to be beautiful beyond measure, but a boy was beyond him. Not that his mind was not reeling already and the cold settling into his bones and his mind. Soon he would lose his better senses and be unable to promise anyone much but while he had his senses he could agree with him, “Aye I’m sure they do. My clumsiness did not help matters either.”
Teeth chattering he still managed a half laugh before the boy rushed off as he said good naturedly, “I don’t think I’ll make it too far anyways before my clothes freeze.”
As it were he was able to regain full footing and was reassured the ice was thick enough to support him. When the boy returned he was leaned halfway over hands raised to his face as he took his breath into them warming them under the expectation that he would be back. He left with an understanding he would be waiting and Rut was nothing if not a man of his word. Lowering one to accept the stone he felt no ill will from his new found friend and when he held it it was as if a bonfire was all about him. He remembered as a boy learning to sit at just the distance in which it warmed your skin without burning it and while his palm was cool, and drying, it did not burn and he realized what a gift it was immediately.
Clasping his other hand over it so it did not slip his own covered by the boy of the lake as he’d already dubbed him. He need not ask him to promise aid for had he been asked he would have given his word. It was the bond that he lived by but when pressed for a stricter agreement he would give it, “I shall return, I will repay your kindness.”
With that spoken he followed the Griffin, who began to dry in the presence of the stone, up to where the girls were located. Both walking upon it the snow miraculously did not melt. Coming through the branches of a few pines he would spot them, “Isgerd! Elizabeth!” He was glad to see them in one piece and both still shivering, he knew it to be a good sign. Approaching with the stone they would be bathed in its warmth, “I have a bit to tell you but first let’s get you warm and dry.”
He would settle the stone next to them on the ground, “Wait here, I’ll get your clothes Isgerd.”
|
|
Isgerd
Established
Wayfinder
Roleplay posts: 40
Age: 23
Physical Description: A shapeshifter who finds it easy to slip into the skin and feathers of a raven, Isgerd was raised by her druidic people in the forest of Gronskog. Not finding a settled life to her taste, she took many detours before she made her way to Vikhafen to offer her services to the Tain as a scout, messenger and guide.
Clothes and Equipment: Tall and leanly muscular, she walks with a light step. Dressed in the colours of the wilderness, browns, greys and greens, she livens up her practical wear with beads and feathers. Her hair is reddish-brown and worn in a long braid. She has pale skin and ice-blue eyes that don't seem to miss much.
Allegiances: Taingaard
Registered: Jul 12, 2018 1:08:26 GMT -8
|
Post by Isgerd on Jun 20, 2019 12:54:55 GMT -8
Isgerd clutched onto Liz as they both attempted to huddle closer to the small fire. Liz was cold too, and wet, but she was still warmer than anything else. She knew that what Liz said was true, Rut was a stubborn warrior who wouldn't let falling off a griffon stop him for long. And he had that feather talisman, if he thought to use it. “He has my clothes...” she said, trying to stop her teeth chattering through willpower alone.
“I … flew into a wall,” she said, her words muffled as she half buried her face into Liz's clothing. Not her nose though, that still hurt a lot. “I found out that dome of ice is solid though, so, there's that,” she added, uncovinced that the information she had brought back was even remotely worth the price paid.
Time passed and she and Liz huddled, sharing what little warmth they had, before Isgerd heard a voice, and slowly opened her frosted-shut eyes. “Huh?” A strange warmth approached too, surrounding her like a hot bath – nothing at all like the warmth of a fire. “My ancestor?” she asked, half disentangling herself from Liz's lap. “Is it time to go already?” But as the heat from the stone revived her, she looked up and blinked. Why did her ancestor look like Rutgard? Why did she need clothes in the next life?
The answer became apparent as she let her eyes and brain focus once again. “Oh! Rut! You came back!” she exclaimed, then winced as her whole face hurt. “Liz, we're not dead!”
|
|
Elizabeth Finch
Main Character
Roleplay posts: 512
Age: 29
Physical Description: Elizabeth, or Liz, stands at about 5'9", weighing in at about 160lbs, most of it muscle from years of riding and fighting. She has platinum blonde hair, usually tied in a ponytail to fit inside her helmet. Her eyes are a vibrant shade of green that contrasts well with her tanned skin. She would be considered attractive if she ever removed her armor, otherwise her face is the only indication that underneath the iron discipline and plate armor is an attractive woman.
Clothes and Equipment: Liz wears a normal looking set of plate armor that is custom fitted for her specifically, and does not hide her gender. She wields a lance when mounted. Javelins are carried in her mounts saddle. Her mount is a young Griffin by the name of St. George, he is full grown in height, but does not yet have the full mass of a adult griffin. She wears plain clothes when not in armor and her shield bears the symbol of the Dawn Riders on it, and her breastplate bears the symbol of Isra on it. She wears a small necklace with a purple gemstone on it underneath her breastplate, only visible when she she is unarmored. Her sword has the insignia of the midnight sun engraved in the hilt, as it is relatively out of sight and does not violate the military dress code. Her primary weapon is her sword, an ancient Elven artifact passed down by her bloodline. It is wreathed in green lightning when unsheathed and wielded by her, and she has a sunmetal shield that complements it with magical abilities of its own.
Player's online availability : Weekends/Nights EST
Registered: Apr 6, 2016 12:16:13 GMT -8
|
Post by Elizabeth Finch on Jun 26, 2019 10:26:59 GMT -8
Liz pulled Isgerd back to her as she tried to rise, craving the small but if warmth that they shared between them. The feeling of the stone's warmth reached her not moments later, and she looked up to see Rutgerd and St. George approaching. The Griffin looked at the pair with no small distress and wrapped them in his big feathery wings.
"No, we are not dead." She said through chattering teeth, grateful for the warmth shared by stone and Griffin. "Told you he was stubborn." She laughed, the absurdity of what had happened starting to dawn on her now that they were safe.
|
|
Taingaard
Dedicated
Land of The Thousand Faces
Roleplay posts: 125
Age: 1100
Registered: Jul 9, 2018 12:06:58 GMT -8
|
Post by Taingaard on Jun 27, 2019 14:05:30 GMT -8
They boy had smiled, a distant but yet hopeful smile, before he had escaped back under the water and left Rut with the heating stone that he and his team so seemed to need. By this time the heat would encompass them all quite easily and even the griffon would be fully embraced by it. However drying up completely, drying ones clothes and getting back into shape after the turmoil on and beneath the icy lake would take more than just a few hours for even the best, and unless they wanted to press forwards into the darkness, a night spend and camp setup would be inevitable.
Loose wood for fire would be hard to get unless trekking to the other side of the lake and thus making the - already scarce wildlife here - hard to exploit for food. However did they manage to make a fire, the cave would hold freshly slayed wolves and, who knows, perhaps the lake would have fish in it too. Not much was here for making shelter, but if they were able to build an igloo, that could pass as one. Still the wind was not as venomously cold as on the mountainside and doing without would not be unthinkable.
|
|
Rutgard Isenhall
Established
Roleplay posts: 48
Age: 28
Physical Description: 6'2, broad shoulders and strong arms, generally wears his hair in some sort of braid. Avatar is otherwise accurate.
Clothes and Equipment: Rutgard has a distinct lack of caring for finery and generally wears plain clothing of linen or leather. During the winter he has a cloak of fur pieced together by some of the elder women who care for him when he returns from the hunt. He carries a large two handed axe that has been inscribed with ruins along the eye.
Registered: Aug 23, 2018 5:26:27 GMT -8
|
Post by Rutgard Isenhall on Jun 29, 2019 8:42:00 GMT -8
Returning to the cave could offer them refuge, it might be preferable but none had the strength to make such a trek. They needed to dry their clothes, regroup, and rest after a day that had been filled with aches and pains and a chill that settled deep into their bones. Rutgard had no problems with nudity and stripped down to his undergarments choosing to keep what little he had left on for the sake of Elizabeth. He could make his tent using bedrolls for the girls laying one upon the ground that was laid out so they would both be comfortable, and two that would surround them keeping their heat within it. Isgerd had clothes to change into since hers had been tossed before the lake but if Elizabeth did not she would be able to remain within the bedroll itself. Afterwards he’d gathered a few large branches to prop their clothes up with. The tent with all three would be tight, but not uncomfortable, yet he respected Elizabeth enough to allow them to it by themselves unless she otherwise protested. He laid the stone with them. The Griffin could recover without such aid.
He would seek a fire then after dressing in a lighter garb that he carried in his pack for emergencies. Having dropped their supplies the girls would be able to change into something dry and he would hang their other clothes close enough to the fire so they would dry and not freeze. Lighting a fire here was dangerous but dying due to hypothermia was also so and they needed everything dried by morning. After this was settled he would tell them of the boy at the lake that gave them the stone. He told them he promised his aid and he would have to return to give it but if they chose otherwise they could continue the Hunt but he would not abandon his word. He would choose to lend aid instead of worry about the glory of returning with whatever they might have found here.
|
|
Isgerd
Established
Wayfinder
Roleplay posts: 40
Age: 23
Physical Description: A shapeshifter who finds it easy to slip into the skin and feathers of a raven, Isgerd was raised by her druidic people in the forest of Gronskog. Not finding a settled life to her taste, she took many detours before she made her way to Vikhafen to offer her services to the Tain as a scout, messenger and guide.
Clothes and Equipment: Tall and leanly muscular, she walks with a light step. Dressed in the colours of the wilderness, browns, greys and greens, she livens up her practical wear with beads and feathers. Her hair is reddish-brown and worn in a long braid. She has pale skin and ice-blue eyes that don't seem to miss much.
Allegiances: Taingaard
Registered: Jul 12, 2018 1:08:26 GMT -8
|
Post by Isgerd on Jul 3, 2019 13:26:43 GMT -8
Isgerd let out a small croaky laugh too as she clutched on to Liz, and St George enveloped them with his feathers. The act of laughing made her nose hurt and she covered it with her hand. What a stupid mess she made of herself, but they were all alive and Rutgard was back, and she had feathers around her.
Once she was warmed up a bit, she put on her clothes which Rutgard had managed to keep nice and dry. Unless Liz was going to seriously object, she would help getting her out of her wet clothes that had gone with her into the icy lake, and hand them over to Rutgard to put on the poles he had improvised.
Rut was making a great effort to take care of them both, and once he had done all the setting up of the camp, she rather shyly approached him to take a look at her rather mangled face. “Rut, is it broken?” she said, pointing at her nose. “Can you do anything?” She had no idea if he or Liz knew any healing, either spells or practical matters, but she had knocked herself out flying into a solid object and whatever they had to offer she would take.
Once they were all safely tucked up in the tent, with the fire she listened in a half-dreamlike state to his story of the boy. “Was he a god, a spirit, or a man?” she asked sleepily, tucked in the bedroll next to Liz. “We have to help him, of course, Rut. Rest first though,” she encouraged him, hoping he would come to add his warmth to the tent and lay down with her and Liz.
|
|
Elizabeth Finch
Main Character
Roleplay posts: 512
Age: 29
Physical Description: Elizabeth, or Liz, stands at about 5'9", weighing in at about 160lbs, most of it muscle from years of riding and fighting. She has platinum blonde hair, usually tied in a ponytail to fit inside her helmet. Her eyes are a vibrant shade of green that contrasts well with her tanned skin. She would be considered attractive if she ever removed her armor, otherwise her face is the only indication that underneath the iron discipline and plate armor is an attractive woman.
Clothes and Equipment: Liz wears a normal looking set of plate armor that is custom fitted for her specifically, and does not hide her gender. She wields a lance when mounted. Javelins are carried in her mounts saddle. Her mount is a young Griffin by the name of St. George, he is full grown in height, but does not yet have the full mass of a adult griffin. She wears plain clothes when not in armor and her shield bears the symbol of the Dawn Riders on it, and her breastplate bears the symbol of Isra on it. She wears a small necklace with a purple gemstone on it underneath her breastplate, only visible when she she is unarmored. Her sword has the insignia of the midnight sun engraved in the hilt, as it is relatively out of sight and does not violate the military dress code. Her primary weapon is her sword, an ancient Elven artifact passed down by her bloodline. It is wreathed in green lightning when unsheathed and wielded by her, and she has a sunmetal shield that complements it with magical abilities of its own.
Player's online availability : Weekends/Nights EST
Registered: Apr 6, 2016 12:16:13 GMT -8
|
Post by Elizabeth Finch on Jul 8, 2019 5:39:52 GMT -8
Liz allowed Isgerd to help her out of the wet clothes, regretting that she had not taken the moment to unclip her saddlebags from St. George.
"Do you...uh...have any spares?" She asked, arms wrapped tightly around her self out of warmth, rather than any sense of decency.
"I cannot heal his nose, but I can set it back if that's what you want?" She asked, recalling several times she had to set broken noses for her Riders.
|
|
Taingaard
Dedicated
Land of The Thousand Faces
Roleplay posts: 125
Age: 1100
Registered: Jul 9, 2018 12:06:58 GMT -8
|
Post by Taingaard on Jul 9, 2019 5:01:28 GMT -8
If they all went to bed the night would pass and the morning would be an encouraging sight with the sun caressing them gently with heat and their clothes as good as dry, but the fire having been put out. They were facing two options now - pressing further ahead to conclude the their mission in The Hunt or go speak with the boy that Rut had seen and who had given them the stone to provide them with heat.
|
|
Rutgard Isenhall
Established
Roleplay posts: 48
Age: 28
Physical Description: 6'2, broad shoulders and strong arms, generally wears his hair in some sort of braid. Avatar is otherwise accurate.
Clothes and Equipment: Rutgard has a distinct lack of caring for finery and generally wears plain clothing of linen or leather. During the winter he has a cloak of fur pieced together by some of the elder women who care for him when he returns from the hunt. He carries a large two handed axe that has been inscribed with ruins along the eye.
Registered: Aug 23, 2018 5:26:27 GMT -8
|
Post by Rutgard Isenhall on Jul 11, 2019 15:04:05 GMT -8
After attending to the more pressing issues of heat and clothing, of which if Isgerd did not have an extra set he would lend her some of his own, as oversized as it was it was dry and clean as it was his nicer set that he carried while traveling. When Isgerd approached him her would gently touch her face his long fingers going along the bridge of her nose gingerly making his way, “It’s not broken,” he reassured her, but she had a gash along the bridge of her nose that was going to leave a mark. It made the rest of her face look more gnarly due to how it had gushed down and he would gently take a cloth and begin to wipe off the dried blood, “But you will definitely have a bit more character.”
He had some salve in his bag that he would smear over it to keep an infection out and to keep it from continually bleeding after that. When they settled in properly he would answer her question, “I am not sure, but in order to find out we shall have to return the stone.”
When the sun rose and everyone was in proper clothing that was dry and fitted and their cloaks had been reseated he would gather the stone from the tent and break down their camp. Remaining in one spot might draw the wolves in. If Isgerd was still weakened he would remain by her side.
|
|
Isgerd
Established
Wayfinder
Roleplay posts: 40
Age: 23
Physical Description: A shapeshifter who finds it easy to slip into the skin and feathers of a raven, Isgerd was raised by her druidic people in the forest of Gronskog. Not finding a settled life to her taste, she took many detours before she made her way to Vikhafen to offer her services to the Tain as a scout, messenger and guide.
Clothes and Equipment: Tall and leanly muscular, she walks with a light step. Dressed in the colours of the wilderness, browns, greys and greens, she livens up her practical wear with beads and feathers. Her hair is reddish-brown and worn in a long braid. She has pale skin and ice-blue eyes that don't seem to miss much.
Allegiances: Taingaard
Registered: Jul 12, 2018 1:08:26 GMT -8
|
Post by Isgerd on Jul 12, 2019 9:25:41 GMT -8
Isgerd didn't have an entire spare set of clothes, but she had some spare knitted undergarments – a vest and leggings, in case it had got extremely cold, and these she donated to Liz. Along with whatever Rutgard could provide, though his clothing was comically large on her, it would make the Isran woman pretty comfortable.
They spent the night in relative peace and when the day broke, Isgerd helped Rut break the camp. Her face was still bruised though far less bloody, and though her head still hurt after her concussion she declared herself ready to move on. “But not to fly, I think.” she added with a rueful sigh. “This time, we'll be more careful, right?” she suggested. There was no need for her to invoke her pathfinding magic so for now all of them could travel together, letting Rutgard take the lead to find the boy in the lake once again.
|
|
