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Post by fireside on Jan 5, 2022 3:22:26 GMT
"The mourning bells they ring long, but the vale will always stand strong. They cast and they dash, their folly is to volley, but the Vale will always stand strong!~" -Excerpt from a giant drinking song.
"Heheheha!... Grrrr!" - Quote form Hallgeir after an attempt skirmish at his guard post was presumably foiled until a Fireball casted by a ranged mage in the distance shattered the defenses of his post.
Hallgeir Marovo; Giant At Arms, Vale guard, roving Hedge Knight.
Race: Giant
Height: 12ft and 5 inches.
Age: Stated to be 'in his prime'
Alignment: Chaotic Jolly Good
Born within the frigid lands of the Vale, Hallgeir's early life was spent preparing for the day he could take up arms with the rest of his kind in their never-ending conflict with the neighboring elves. The youth had spent his time among the great halls in the city of giants, listening to returning war parties and hunters talk about the beasts that roam the lands beyond their walls and their hated enemy. Holding already the romantic ideals of joining his kind as they march out in their war and in their hunts. Still too young to be trained in the martial halls of his kind, the youth looked to get started early. Seeking out other warriors who just got finished training in that hall to dedicate time to showing him how to wield a weapon, how to swing a hammer and sword. To block with a shield. Each time earning bruises but each time learning, getting more and more eager for his conflict.
The early teen decided, with what skills he has learned in the years of so of fighting and growing with what warriors would give him attention, that he could contribute at last! Much before he was ready to even begin proper training and not the pre-education he's gotten from others. The youth snuck out with one of the recent war hosts riding forth. Too small to stand in as a proper giant. Instead the youth merely trailed after the giants, having packed food and clothes, having braced for the cold weather. The Teen snuck after the host who walked out in their march of their latest battle with the elves. Struggling to keep pace, ever falling behind to the practiced forced march of the giant adults. The youth keeping warm in leantos and fires following the massive swath in the snow and terrain by the giants.
Days they walked, and days he followed, each day giving him doubts about continuing and deciding it would be best to turn back and follow the trail he has left to home. Each day he was driven only by the want to see his kind fight, to see what he can of the battles the young giants sing praises about. Clutching to his want, he kept after them. Finally finding the sight of their battle. The skirmish against the elven forces, what he had hoped to see was a wonderful one sided culling. Instead showed him what war is like.
The Giants wading forward with battle-cries and shouts. Great Weapons braced to cleave into the forward lines of elves and shields to brace for when they fought in person. Only to see Death in it's harshest truest form; Arrows and Spells, volleyed and casted finding their giant marks each time. Some of his kin collapsing on the spot, some thrown back from the impact of spells, some meekly stumbling forward with the last vestiges of strength as the life is seen visibly fading from their bodies until they go slack and collapse entirely. Followed by the carnage wrought by his own kind. Elves cleaved in twain, some concaved in on themselves from their hammer strikes, chunks torn from the brutal strikes of the giants. A bloody skirmish.
The battle was over almost as quickly as it began. Having devastated forward lines of an elven party and half the number of kin slain. The youth, pale from terror than from the snow, looked at his kind mourning the aftermath of the fight. Some youth celebrating in the field of slain elves. The older ones checking their dead and injured. Seeing what war was to bring. The Young Giant chose not to return with the host. And returned ahead of the party walking in his own forced march from shock of the skirmish. Now.. A lot more wiser to war, and the hopeful prospect of joining their conflict now tempered with a growing resentment to the conflict. But still.. His family had expectations. The Marovos were an old line, they must serve, they must be strong. But now the youth didn't rush to his fate.
In time, the giant would prove his strength, years of training showing their progress as he would place himself skilled enough to fight. And his chosen path was to be a Man-At-Arms for the King of Giants while taking up a craft as a Smith. To mingle with the dwarves better and to maintain his own gear. All while serving and guarding the Vale itself, to remain in it's walls than to sally forth. But even then, as one who was to now stand guard at the gates of the city and the Great Hall. He saw the same war-hosts sallying forth, returning with fewer and fewer people. The sight.. Eventually broke the poor Giant. Who accompanied a human caravan down from the mountains as an act of kindness. Only to never walk back, ever marching forward to see what these new lands will bring.
Marching on from the frozen lands of the Giants and Dwarves. The giant taking a ship across the sea to unexplored lands he has yet to lay eyes on. Eager for a fresh start, to put his craft to use and learning to craft not just for his own size. But for small folk as well, to bring the craft of the Giants down with him to the lands of Men.
Relations:Hated - Disliked - Neutral - Liked - Respected
Androu Opimius
"Now I have not spoken much with the Knight, but I have seen him around. In the last big fight I was able to fight alongside him with, I watched him defend the smallfolk. Living up to his ideals with actions instead of words, a good man I hope to learn more about. Good to see some treating knighthood with actual responsibility too."
"I serve him as a Faithguard even if he has locked his rank and his status. But he still has the respect of everyone who he has fought with. Myself included. I hope to serve him well and remind him that he just needs the will to hold up a sword to do Good and not a crown."
Daken Embery
"I work with Daken in his forge, I fight alongside him, I throw him at high velocity at the enemy. He is a good man, perhaps a bit simple but none the less jolly like my self. He does good work and I just hope he can keep doing it. "
"My Boss, a good friend and one I hope to work alongside a lot. I watched him die, I watched him come back. I watched him pretty much take over a settlement by being the sole resident and moving people. He's good."
Sir Bellicus
"Sir Bellicus has been a friend of mine for a while, one of the few people I spoke with before starting to really come into my own as an Adventurer and now once more a Man-At-Arms. We don't talk as much, he is always kept busy, but I hope for the day we can once more stand on a bridge talking."
Yuri Efremov
"Yuri was a good soul, I was one of the first people to speak with him I think when he came off the boat. He was shy and still is but he's growing quite well as an inventor and adventurer. He gave me a gift recently when we met and he has been kind ever since. I hope to speak more with him in the future and go on adventures as well!"
Oliver Smalls
"Not spoken much with them but i've seen them around, a good miner and someone who I made a dagger for. I hope they're putting it to good use out there, he tells a few funny jokes but need to speak more with the small Kobold."
Tilleah "If it's undead it's losing it's head" Asmodae
"Now this is someone i've known before meeting them, not in the sense that someone spoke of another in the same town. Nae, this was someone I heard about in the crossing of the sea. Not just Merchant caravans heading to the Vales, but merchants on the galleon I made the crossing with told me of the continent when I made my way to Stucia. They spoke of The Warden in the cursed Highlands. Years have passed since the sightings but the tales still spoke. When one speaks of the cursed lands, they speak of the Warden. I had the honor of meeting and speaking with her recently, she's a delight to talk with and even let me tag along to face this Cult Of Iron. I hope to impress someday, truly I do."
Holly Gerith
"Holly Gerith is a Yon I recently met but one I enjoy the company of. Their skill with magic is unique as is their background. Being a cavalry mage and one who seems to be a firebrand based on emotions, they're skilled to say the least. And most of all quite sweet. I hope they continue to serve the House well and that we can fight alongside each other a lot more. I hope to impress with the battles to come."
Igbog Krugbor
"Admittedly I have not spoken with Igbog much, aside from events with the House we meet together on and passing by the forge at Dakens we do not speak much. Though we do share some bonds as kinsmen and those bonds are strong. He is a friend, we could be closer but for now I say think we are friends. He's always on the hunt for Ore too!"
(Asked to be added then I guess!) |
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Post by fireside on Jan 5, 2022 13:23:22 GMT
  "They not only brought an army, but raised a second before our eyes. Our guards, our loved ones, puppets turning on kin.." - Alison Cooper, local of Stucia pastures.
"The beasts had already laid siege to the final remnants of life by the time the company had arrived. The monsters having slain hundreds if not more from the outlying farmlands. The stench of decay hung in the air thick like the fog that covered the land. The mist, a bad omen I was sure of it when it rolled in with it's unnatural chill. A worry set in on me, only confirmed by the cries of the Adventurer Guild's Oni rushing out to cry for more aide. News trickling in as the undead hassle has turned into a proper plague of undeath. Necromancers raising victims, leading armies of their own. No lesser acolytes of dark magic but proper practitioners of their fell powers. As soon as the call for more help came, despite the warnings of risk, more and more like myself pledged to the new call for aid. And ushered out to the gates to the carts we were. Set for the Pastures and to save what we can and who we can, some going just for the chance to slay undead, some for the prospect of silver. I personally took to the teachings of Morgain and Lylia, sallying forth to at least be a bandage to the damage done to the small folk so far."
"The air was thick as I have said, with fog and with stench, but soon we arrived. With my height I could see that some peasants had still lived, holding out near the stables for some vestiges of life. Perhaps there were more elsewhere, survivors that still yet hid. Either way I chose my path; to vault the wall and march on the undead in the perimeter while the others seemed bold to charge down their lines directly. I had my eyes set on saving than slaying at the start, as did the honorable Knight Androu I believe his name was. Choosing to keep the horde from advancing on the common folk, a virtuous knight proven by his deeds. Ones I have come to admire since coming down from the Vales. No more battle cries for glory to be won over nothing, no more stalemate slaughters. But true acts of, dare I say, Heroism that I have come to see the most of in these lands! And perhaps I may one day emulate them, as I sure tried putting to rest undead in the courtyards. Swings of my old hammer concaving these poor souls with each fell swing."
"I had picked up a companion in the scuffle, Dayana I believe is how it is spelled. A lady I came to learn had walked with giants in the Vales. Following me as I vaulted to help put down an arrow ridden necromancer with a strike from a pommel. All while she had caught sight of two necromancers hiding by the wall. Surprised from behind, her blade struck true. But the blasted blighter returned with a wave of naught but pure evil. Blasting through taking the form of untold terrors and nightmares. They withered her, but she still persevered, and rushing to her aid. We but slew the necromancer as the last was pelted with spells. The puppets collapsing one by one, undead freshly raised from the felled knights to peasants. And the decayed zombies. All collapsed and soon to be submitted to the pyre. Others began to mingle, to pile corpses, I chose otherwise.. To check on the remaining small folk."
"Dayana followed as did this kindly Oni named Tatsu. A jolly bartender who seems he can heal! The trio of us talking as he set about bandaging wounds and mending bites and scratches. Even a Lady Cal.. Cay.. Calayana? I can not write these noble names for the life of me! Regardless she had come to render her aid as well. Her magic of the Light cleansing what impurities there were and mending what bones and skin were broken. A welcome healing that many would often overlook doing for the peasants. But as it was, with the sickening battle over, it was time for us to return to Stucia. But I have chosen to come back to these farmlands. Their houses burned, their fields nearly ruined. I shall lend what aid a Giant can. The strength of ten men to help the lives marked by such battle."
-"Giant Steps", the listed journal of Hallgeir Marovo.
With the excerpt in his hide bound massive journal written, Hallgeir had risen from his spot under one of the larger trees on the field. The hedge knight giant stepping forth to rejoin the recovering peasants. Thatch rooves were tended to, ladders broken were done away with as Hallgeir moved them as needed and hauled rubble as wanted. A deep breath as the stench of undeath cleared from the air, the giant relieved as the sounds of life returned. The occasional buzz by his ear of field insects than rot-flies, the chirp of meadow birds than carrion calls. Hallgeir was pleased to bring such semblance of normalcy back to these people. And still he worked, carrying a cart of ruined thatch and wood to be dumped and discarded elsewhere. Though the jolly giant was doing his best to keep the mood light, there was still a lot of work left to do. |
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Post by brutishcrab51 on Jan 11, 2022 23:18:16 GMT
Add Androu Gillis to your relations.
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Post by fireside on Jan 12, 2022 3:53:31 GMT
Add Androu Gillis to your relations.  |
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Post by acuriousgrey on Jan 15, 2022 4:33:12 GMT
Daken Emberey
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Post by fireside on Jan 26, 2022 13:23:36 GMT
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Post by cornflakes1 on Jan 26, 2022 15:39:01 GMT
Yuri Efremov, when time allows?
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Post by detective on Jan 26, 2022 20:55:53 GMT
I want a ego trip please. Bellicus  |
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Post by frogge on Jan 28, 2022 5:31:46 GMT
Oliver smalls pls
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Post by fireside on Jan 30, 2022 11:51:26 GMT
Added all three of you, read it and weep!
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Post by gasthemad on Jan 30, 2022 12:06:20 GMT
Tilleah
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Post by cornflakes1 on Jan 30, 2022 17:58:46 GMT
:DD
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Post by fireside on Jan 31, 2022 6:57:13 GMT
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Post by aurora on Feb 6, 2022 7:14:43 GMT
add holly or im gonna break into ur house
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Post by fireside on Feb 8, 2022 8:23:41 GMT
 "And though danger lurks in the Shadows, and Darkness obscures the way. Hold the Light in your heart, and take comfort in knowing that Her grace and Her blessing will forever walk with you. And you shall fear no shade." -Excerpt from the 'Litanies of Light' prayer book of Lilyma
"This momentous occasion began with a summons by my Lord, My Count Obadiah Opimius. To talk about an expedition we had planned days prior, to set out to find this ancient prince of darkness. This first born of Libilla, the goddess of the night, to bring his mad crusade to an end. For we had learned much about our Foe, though I was not privy to the circles that had actively investigate our Foe. I heard enough through the grape vine and what was found, and one conversation with the Daughter of Libilla. Learning the truth that plagues the Goddess of the Night. Learning from her, that her mother was cursed by the God Of Chaos to have her works be twisted and tainted no matter her intentions. Turning her people, her miracles, to evil. And for her curse, she was cast out of Heaven by the other Gods. Causing her Son to have a vendetta against the heavens themselves!"
"This revelation was brought to us with the full power of a crown this dark prince had stolen perhaps a month earlier now. The crown to give the wearer the power of Libilla herself. Perhaps intended to bypass the curse of the God of Chaos, to pass the mantle. Whatever the reason. It like many of her works, were warped and twisted. This crown brought with it power, but it brought with it the curse as well. Driving it's wearer to insanity and pain as we have come to see in it's one, and only, wearer. Aedopis, Firstborn of Libilla."
"This fight was organized between the Stucian Chapter of the Adventurer's Guild and the Mage's Guild. As well as the venerable house Opimius. An expedition to ride out to Ciar forest and find an abandon mining town the dark prince had set himself up in. With a Fomorian seal binding something unknown, something dangerous, within. Made during the initial onset of the great war against the Fomors. Now a target by a deranged Lumian Prince. And something we had to stop him from breaking. With Toxins potent to poison this Elder Lumia, Holy Water blessed by the clergy of Light, Potions made through the night and days to bless our warriors with Holy Water as their foundation! Silver Dust to coat our blades so that we may fight the Lumia. We rode out, a veritable warband of Adventurer, Mages, and Faithguard."
"With the hour drawing near, and the monster's presence becoming more and more felt. We made ready for war. I stood tall, proud, in my amor and with the blessed blade granted to me by Captain Annais. The banner of House Opimius waving from my back where it was now planted to be a Bannerman for our House, in hopes of catching the eye of my Lord and Knights. And to show my pride of being apart of this house. We assembled, ready for war, staring down shadowy creations and Elder Lumia. Warriors in front, mages and rangers in the back. We were ready for our War. The prince was mad and crashing against a Fomor Shrine that was sealed up. It sent to us Shadowfangs! Direwolves made of shadow and nimble to weave through any attack! And towering above them all was the SHADOWTUSK! A Beotusk imitation raised to cleave into the lines. But we held fast, we met their charge and started to cut them down!"
"It was with the death of an Elder Lumian Arhcer raining arrows upon us and the dissipation of the Shadowfangs that Aedopis became enraged. His dark shield empowered by his minions faltering with their death. And his rage turned upon us as the Beotusk finally disperssed into nothing. Charging forward, it started by GORING open Shamar, an Orc warrior of Stucia's adventurers. Gorging on his blood to revitalize himself and attempted to smash into the army we assembled. But we stood, healing through any attacks it delivered. I following along with members of my House to attempt to keep an invincible Lumia busy. Before our attention turned onto the Dark Prince himself. By this time, zain, a twink of a mage had been drained of every last drop of blood by the needy Dark Prince."
"As the battle raged, it grew weaker. Toxins poisoning it, silver weapons cutting into it's hide. And finally with it lowered, we chopped at the crown upon his head. The item cursed unable to be removed from him, but still liable to be broken by silvered weapons. And so we set upon him. Chunks torn from him, his crown slowly shattered, I myself buried my blade into his chest when the monster fell to a Knee. Starting to weep as his madness and broken mind grasped his situation. The prince, with a wailing weak cry to his Mother the goddess of night and shadows.. but his form faded. And his life ended. And with it. The battle was over and won with cheers by the men assembled... oh and some of the women too I guess."
"Then Opimius rushed forward, rushing to the Shrine that was weakened and with the entire army following behind. We came across the damaged shrine. Holy water used as a salve for the darkness that was seeping through the cracks, I myself kneeling and praying before the Goddess of Light to help with the ordeal of mending the Shrine and Seal. And with it soaked in Holy Water as a conduit, and prayers whispered on some tongues. The darkness within abated, the celebration on the battlefield was swift.. As we all returned home, To lick our wounds, to mingle with our cliques and celebrate our own successes in our own ways. I for one, chose to celebrate by lingering the field. To offer my prayers in the Light that remained. I pray only that She hears me and that She graces me."
-An excerpt from "Giant Steps" A journal of Hallgeir Marovo
With the battle finished and his book excerpt done, written in the crackling fires of smoldering houses from the attacks of other adventurers that were filled with Shades and Umbral Elementals. The Giant closed his book as he stood up looking over the battlefield that once held a Demigod, or at least one that wanted to be one. His silver sword resting at his shoulder, the armored Faithguard made his way back to the Fomorian seal. The whispers and pulsing has faded since the adventurers acted quickly to mend the seal. But still he lingered to watch it, to look over the scene of carnage and chaos that the Dark Prince had wrought.
Hallgeir once more moved down to his Knees, his blade buried in the ground at the tip and his hands at the crossguard as he had lowered his head to offer his prayers once more. Eyes closed listening still to the occasional pop of smoldering houses in the distance and tuned carefully for noises from the shrine. Before finally the giant spoke his prayers in a slow tone, remorseful and reverent at the same time. "Lilyma, Goddess of Light. Forgive us for shedding blood this day, may your Light once more shine upon this land and welcome souls with the comfort you provide. May I carry your Light in these dark times, and inspire hope as I go."
His prayer to Lilyma ending, his eyes opened contemplating what he must say and the words of a Lumia about the state of heavenly affairs far beyond him. But finding some shred of resolve, his eyes once locked on the ground looked up to the increasingly dark sky as he spoke a second prayer "Libilla, Mother of Night. Forgive us for what we have done to your son, and may your curse be broken and welcomed by your Blood and peers once more into heaven to achieve grand and great works. May you never have to see another child taken by the plague of madness and Chaos wrought by the Dark God." Ending what some might consider profane to send a prayer to. Standing up and cleaning the shrine of debris before turning to walk the long road back to Stucia. |
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