Sheet! (might add something to equipment, but otherwise I think I'm done)
Have you ever heard stories of a host of Mungarders making landfall on the shores of Haligern, roaring and growling like beasts as they pillage the land, bring ruin to the people and burn all that they cannot take? Stories of such raids invariably come from men like Njall and his ilk, when those merely seeking glory and those touched by the gods intersect in a potent mix of ambition and lack of compunction. And where they go, great destruction surely follows.
Njall himself is from Vatnlid, though he has not been there in half a decade himself, and has been part of one ship's crew or another since his early adolescence. His way is to set himself apart from the rest, largely due to a certain degree of intimidation presented by a man who paints his face in black and white and goes into battle with little more than a dagger in his hand, growling in ungodly tones of horrifying fates at the bottom of the World Tree and demon serpents that hunger for the souls of the unworthy. It is a song that is easy to get lost in and scream along to as you dive into the blood and horror that a raid invariably entails, and coincidentally one you might hear in your nightmares for a long time after.
As you might expect, Njall's a man who loves his work - all those touched by magic seek the presence of death to one degree or another. And a man who loves his crew at that - you must, after all, for how else would you expect to survive a voyage as long and dangerous as a mainland raid? And even after he has come back, who else could he possibly find in Mungardr who would understand like his former crewmates the unfathomable power, promise and lure of being the killing northern wind descending upon the complacent peoples of the shore?
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Topic: Valhalla-Bound (Pathfinder) (4/5) - OOC Thread (Read 19000 times)