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A place to discuss the campfire and all that jazz |
Hi everyone, finally posting the profile of my character- his name's Ögmundr and as soon as it's my turn i shall post his first adventure. Thanks alot, enjoy! Dressed in a tunic and tight trousers made of hide, the man was tall and his face soft for one who had endured and explored the nether realms of the world. His beard bristled, cropped close to his cheek, and across his chest a leather waistcoat lay adorned with gifts from grateful benefactors of his wisdom. These skulls and stones, pieces of petrified wood, bone, and tooth, rested next to gold coins as comrades in companionship. All were equal in humble appreciation. “Too young!” They would cry when he pranced through their towns, but his talents were unparalleled and mysterious, an elder in a young man’s body. Over his broad shoulders hung a long cloak of rich purple, crumpled and tussled by the leaves and mud that gathered as he swept through the land. Nests of birds and rolling wheat fields muddied from the wind and coarse conditions that constitute life. What once was golden now lay in a bemused tussle, the crowning glory of the settlers, blowing every which way. This wilderness was also known as Ögmundr’s hair. He instilled in others a perplexing mix of fear, and the formidable urge to laugh until ones underclothes ran wet. As a son, his mother began thinking at a very young age that Ögmundr should have been born a daughter. By the end of his fourth summer, the lad adopted a flouncing manner, bending his knees so that his curls jumped like little spirits tied to his head. “It must be the summer heat and the stench drawn forth from the swamps,” perplexed the local people, “It will all pass with the coming of the fogs”. But nay, just as the stinking bog on the outskirts of the village danced through their homes like a deluded pig in peacocks clothing, Ögmundr’s flouncing remained. At the age of seventeen (by our calendar) Ögmundr became lost in the marsh land beyond his village. Born as the son of a cripple, he took upon himself the role of hunter, head, and spine of his family, which consisted of two younger sisters, mother, father and an older brother, whose tragic death both shook his spirit yet also provided the foundations for his future. It was because of this misadventure into the marsh lands that Ögmundr was selected, as the eldest of the seventh generation of his lineage, to accompany and be trained by the mysterious elders. Many stories were invented by the locals about this strange young man, which over his leniently long life became exaggerated to myth, and from myth to legend, and from legend to the wondrous and secretive stories told to children at their nightstands when the wind outside threatens the peace of sleep. |