- Messages
- 154
- Character Biography
- Link
The capital was bubbling with life. Noisy and crowded as it was, Mika loved every bit of it. After her long travel through a part of the Blightlands and the majority of her own country, well at least the southern part of it, she couldn’t get enough of Nordengaard. Dwelling the streets after a couple of drinks, seeing old faces, talking to a couple of old friends. A proud bear, a cub no longer, she felt at ease moving further as her boots connected with the ground that was her home. Rarely had she felt so much joy. Perhaps this was the first time since she had left the capital after the news of her mother’s death.
With a knock of two she went inside one of the larger houses on one of the side roads. They always had good fish and broth here. They also traded arrows and other things if you knew them well. Her father did and so did Mika.
“You’ve grown!” Yurn laughed, coming from across the room to pat her on the shoulder. “Seems like the journey has done you well,” the tall bearded man grinned his sharp teeth bare, noticing a part of the glyph on her left arm as she took off her gloves and rolled up her sleeves after having gotten rid of her upper jacket that was mostly fur and leather.
“Thanks, can’t say you’ve grown, perhaps a bit in breadth.” she taunted and dodged his playful blow. Having remained lean, but gained muscles, Mika was quite hard to catch.
“I’ve brought you some good wood, fine stuff, makes good arrows. You probably know what I need in return.” He nodded, walked into another room and stayed there for a while, probably looking around and gathering the arrowheads and feathers, while she remained in the main room where strangers were eating and drinking.
With the concept of taverns being somewhat unfamiliar within the Nordenfiir culture. These types of gatherings were normal. People who knew each other or didn’t, came to drink, eat, and trade together. You brought your own or you traded for some. Those who weren’t Nordenfiir or Nord weren’t exactly thrown out of these places, but weren’t that welcomed either. If they followed the rules they could stay. Especially in the capital where the followers of Maude were the ones reigning. They were, essentially, more tolerant than others, than the traitors. That, however, didn’t mean they welcomed every stranger with open arms.
It wasn’t something Mikaela did either, but she was curious. Always.
The blonde hair had her attention. Perhaps the slightly smaller figure too. Maybe the lack of familiar scent. Probably that.
“Can I join?” she asked, tilting her head a little to the side while putting the large bag full of wood next to the bench. The iron staff she had been carrying was planted behind her; leaning against the wall with the less sharpened edge. The jacket and furs came down in a heap, she let them fall onto the bag with the wood inside. Yurn would probably take a bit of time to gather all the necessary and interesting things. For now, she might have another drink. Or a piece of pie.
With a knock of two she went inside one of the larger houses on one of the side roads. They always had good fish and broth here. They also traded arrows and other things if you knew them well. Her father did and so did Mika.
“You’ve grown!” Yurn laughed, coming from across the room to pat her on the shoulder. “Seems like the journey has done you well,” the tall bearded man grinned his sharp teeth bare, noticing a part of the glyph on her left arm as she took off her gloves and rolled up her sleeves after having gotten rid of her upper jacket that was mostly fur and leather.
“Thanks, can’t say you’ve grown, perhaps a bit in breadth.” she taunted and dodged his playful blow. Having remained lean, but gained muscles, Mika was quite hard to catch.
“I’ve brought you some good wood, fine stuff, makes good arrows. You probably know what I need in return.” He nodded, walked into another room and stayed there for a while, probably looking around and gathering the arrowheads and feathers, while she remained in the main room where strangers were eating and drinking.
With the concept of taverns being somewhat unfamiliar within the Nordenfiir culture. These types of gatherings were normal. People who knew each other or didn’t, came to drink, eat, and trade together. You brought your own or you traded for some. Those who weren’t Nordenfiir or Nord weren’t exactly thrown out of these places, but weren’t that welcomed either. If they followed the rules they could stay. Especially in the capital where the followers of Maude were the ones reigning. They were, essentially, more tolerant than others, than the traitors. That, however, didn’t mean they welcomed every stranger with open arms.
It wasn’t something Mikaela did either, but she was curious. Always.
The blonde hair had her attention. Perhaps the slightly smaller figure too. Maybe the lack of familiar scent. Probably that.
“Can I join?” she asked, tilting her head a little to the side while putting the large bag full of wood next to the bench. The iron staff she had been carrying was planted behind her; leaning against the wall with the less sharpened edge. The jacket and furs came down in a heap, she let them fall onto the bag with the wood inside. Yurn would probably take a bit of time to gather all the necessary and interesting things. For now, she might have another drink. Or a piece of pie.