Open Chronicles Rollin' Down In The Deep

[Jorah Stigandr]

Kingdom of Nordengaard.





Jorah Stigandr would be walking along the main road in the Capital. He bore his usual white armor along with a sheathed sword attached to his hip. A long grey cape drawn down his back. His dark brown hair swept over his forehead from a cold wind that would snap through the city streets that managed to sneak through the mountain peaks and enter the Kingdom below. Though most pure Nordenfiir weren't bothered by the snow as much, Jorah still felt it. He was accustom to it being raised there and the dungeons he was imprisoned in weren't exactly "heat friendly". It's only been a few months since he was freed from his tomb that he was forced to make as his home for two years. Though feeling the biting of the cold in his cell and the darkness that surrounded it he finally was getting use to being out in the public again. Thankfully Queen Maude came with a different opinion of non-nordens to which let him free. It was a hard thing to swallow knowing your family was butchered while you remained locked in a cage like a slave. Regardless it was something he would live with. Most gave him shallow looks or turned their heads to not acknowledge his existence but the Capital was slowly getting better than it was with the previous King Borvenir reigned the lands.

Pushing down the street as folks from different backgrounds, creeds and beliefs went about their business, trading, selling and mingling about. A bitterness was left with him but for now he would let the ale in the tavern help deal with his wandering thoughts. Pushing the door open to the tavern and entering with the door shutting behind him. The winds would beat off the tavern woods and a rattling sound could be heard in the backdrop. It was fortunate this tavern had people from all over staying in its rooms as it was more social and outgoing then most. Jorah could care the less as long as they had ale. It seemed most of those imprisoned at the time Jorah was, took off once they got out. Leaving these lands in fear of being banished to die in the dungeons again and meeting their fates. Stepping off to a table in the corner with a small candle lit in the center with a window near by with a view of the street. Jorah would take a seat as a server approached. "A mead..make it strong." he grumbled a bit as turned his head to look back out at the streets.

Jorah debated on where he was planning to head, surely enough there were fools fighting wars for Kings who never knew their name. Others going amongst fellow kin in great adventure and in search of fame n' glory. It was all shite to Jorah but something had to be better than staying in a region that wouldn't look at him for the fact he wasn't a fully Nordenfiir. The world was at his feet for what he wanted to do. It was a short thought before the server came back setting down an ale. There was no currency here, most of those in stayed in the tavern were here for trading and paid in some form of trade. The server would look at Jorah as he slipped his hand to his side and tossed a small dagger that was perfectly crafted and shiny. "That will give you 5 Meads." they boasted. Jorah knew it was worth more but he could get another easily. Nodding as they left him alone again to brood.

​

 

[Vulpesen]

Vulpesen gripped the edges of his cloak, pulling it tighter around himself as he stepped towards the tavern's bar, his golden eyes taking in the company around him while his ears listened to his surroundings. In many ways, he hated the north. It was frigid and cold, often without a leaf or a wave in sight. To say the least, it was an environment in which he didn't quite belong. Still, there was at least one thing that made the north worth it in the warlock's eyes.

"If you don't plan on finishing five of them, feel free to pass one my way," he said as he took a seat next to the armored man. Sweet with a the smallest of afterburns, mead was one golden beacon in a land that seemed to despise him. Then again, when all you had was the drink to warm you, you got pretty good at it. That's what made the northmen special in Vulpesen's eyes.

Jorah Stigandr

 

[Jorah Stigandr]

Jorah Stigandr would be in mid sip of his mead before a figure approached him with a generous offer for himself. Setting the mead down on the table as he turned to see who was speaking him. An Elf, a very interesting one at that. Hearing his offer Jorah would chuckle as he glanced over at the sever with his pale blue eyes and nodded to her. She was smart enough to know he accepted the offer and to fetch him a drink. The wind would continue to rattle the window as Jorah smirked.

"So what makes you visit these lands? Besides free Mead."

He had a rougher tone to his voice naturally but his words were a bit humorous. It been awhile since he had decent company. Rats in a cell unfortunately don't count for most as good company but they sure were frequent visitors to Jorahs prison cell. The server would come back and set the cup down next to the Elf as she moved away to help another table. Gripping his cup of mead, Jorah would take another mouthful of the liquid and set the cup back down as the ominous background of conversation and drinks clinking together was nothing but a ode to those who earned the break.

Vulpesen

 

[Vulpesen]

Nodding obligingly to the man, Vulpesen happily took a tankard and had his fill form which he took a long sip, enjoying the sweetness which flowed over his tongue. "Does a man need another reason beyond free mead?" A wily grin touched his features as he set the tankard down. "Though if it matters, I suppose it would be accurate to say that I'm on the hunt. What brings you to this fine establishment?" Relaxing a bit in his seat, the warlock turned his eyes back to his drink. It was true that he was hunting here in Nordengaard, but his quarry was no beast. Varos had sent him on a certain roving band that had caused the fey a bit of displeasure. Such was the life of a bound warlock. Serving at the pleasure of the fey and settling grudges on their behalf. Not that he minded it.

Jorah Stigandr

 

[Jorah Stigandr]

Jorah Stigandr would take another mouthful of his mead. Chuckling at the Elf's comment as at least he was honest in and jovial in that regard. "A hunt you say?" Jorah's eyebrow perked as he looked at him. "May I ask as to what you're hunting in these frozen lands?" He was quite curious as Jorah himself was a mercenary and maybe had leverage to aid him or have an idea of what he was doing. Finishing his mead before the server came over right away and promptly set down a new glass while taking the empty one from the table.

Shifting his gaze back at the window as a storm of snow and wind was soon descending upon the city as he turned back. "I'm assuming whatever you're hunting isn't getting caught tonight." his thoughts traced back to blood splattering on fresh now, how the colors were so bright on the white blanket backdrop. Yelling, metal clashing and thumping of bodies lay all but a melancholy in the back of Jorahs mind from his past before he was imprisoned.

Vulpesen

 

[Vulpesen]

"Outlaws of a sort. I was told that they would be in this town for a bit collecting their merchandise. So I can to collect them." As he spoke, Vulpesen glanced around the room, a hand moving to tap his fingers on the counter while he observed his surroundings. "Though I suppose you're right that they'll get another night of sleep around here. I did only arrive today so I suppose I'm not too far behind on my duties." For a moment, he simply sat back. enjoying the warmth that flowed through him with his last sip. Jorah hadn't answered his question, and he wondered if the man would, though he figured that a stranger who gave away mead was entitled to a secret or two. "So, what's your name, friend?"

Jorah Stigandr

 

[Jorah Stigandr]

Jorah Stigandr would nod to him. "Well you'll find nothing short of outlaws around here, that's if they don't freeze to death trying to run." Taking a mouthful of the mead before setting it down before taking a long stare at the mead. "Jorah, Jorah Stigandr." his name was as Nordenfiir as it could for someone who was only half of what most were from around these parts. Stiffling the glass back down he would give in to his previous question. If the Elf was honest to him the least Jorah could do was reciprocate the feeling.

"Well, I spent the last couple years imprisoned here and I've been recently freed. Been awhile since I had a good drink."

He shrugged a bit as doubted the Elf knew much about the culture or the Kings, or maybe he did. Turning to look back at him. "And what is your name?" He would raise his hand as the server came back over with a fresh cup of mead and set it down in front of the elf.

Vulpesen

 

[Vulpesen]

"Oh, I've no doubt. It seems my work rarely brings me to places one would like to settle down in. Though the kind I'm looking for are rather specific," Vulpesen replied, a wily grin touching his features. Hearing of the imprisonment, a brow rose and Vulpesen tilted his head curiously. While thought it too rude to ask, he couldn't help but wonder what the man had done to get himself into a cell. "Been there before. Though I can't think of a time I was in for nearly as long as that."

Before answering, he brought the tankard back to his lips and leaned back, downing the entirety of what was left. "Vulpesen Torrevaso. A pleasure to meet you Mr. Strigandr." Turning towards a server walking by, Vulpesen lifted a hand for her attention. "Miss, a bottle please. Mix it with a half a pint of your strongest whiskey, or whatever other amber you've got." Seeing the woman extend a hand for payment, Vulpesen cleared his throat and reached back for his pack. Gold was never a problem for him. But bartering goods were sometimes hard for the wanderer given that he preferred to pack light. Nonetheless, a moment later and he came back up with an etched boarding axe which he laid in her palm. "Oughtta fetch you something nice. Bastard who had it before I, didn't get much time to use it." It hurt a bit to see the weapon go, but as nice a tool as it was, axe's were hardly difficult to come by, particularly when he was due for the sea after he was done with his current mission.

Jorah Stigandr

 

[Jorah Stigandr]

Jorah Stigandr nodded firmly as he chuckled a bit afterwards at the thought. "I guess it's the price I paid for being born." He raised his glass to the bastard old king and took a mouthful before setting it down. "They don't take to kindly to half breeds around these parts." before nodding to his name in return. He watched as the waiter took his payment with a firm smile and went off with his request to fetch a bottle of his choosing.

Jorah would turn to watch her leave as he looked back. "So do you hunt on behalf of someone or just yourself?" taking the last mouthful of mead before the server returned with the bottle and set it down with two glasses upside down next to it. Jorah flipped them both up and poured them both a drink before sliding the glass over to the Elf. Jorah himself was a mercenary and really only just started as one considering he spent most of his time training, fighting battles and then exiled. He never got into the trade till' now and maybe this Elf would help him. Vulpesen

 

[Vulpesen]

"A steep price for something you had no choice in," Vulpesen commented dryly, his brow furrowed as he thought over the man's fate. Assuming there was some truth to it, he could only imagine the rotten luck that would lead to such a thing. "In my home, halfbreeds may be unwelcome in certain circles, but they certainly ain't punished for it." With the introduction of their new beverage, Vulpesen lifted his new drink up to his lips and took a long sip, his body straightening as that wonderful burn coursed through him.

"I've a rather exclusive long runnin' contract. Though I've sold my sword a few times. Mostly in times like this, I make my coin off of what the poor bastards leave behind, either on their trip to the next world, or at the gates of the nearest accepting prison." He looked over his newfound companion, taking in the stock of the man before him. "Needin' some coin I take it? I imagine there ain't many job opportunities in most local dungeons."

Jorah Stigandr
(sorry for the wait. Work was handing my hind end to me.)