Bjorn, Son of Olaf
Sword of Gorum?
Bjorn, Son of Olaf, Son of Sven
Standing a proud 6 foot 5 inches, this Ulfen warrior of the north hails from the Witch Kingdom of Irrisen. Fierce on the battlefield and boastful in the tavern hall. Though his rage is now tempered with some understanding of True Evil. When not in armor he has taken to wearing the latest fashion (according to Kendra) of Leipestadt. But still keeps his Ulfen accessories. In battle, he wears the armor and crest of the Knight of Ozrem. Though his sword is larger than the traditional longsword of the Knights of Iomedea.
The Vision of the Sword
“It was a glorious vision. I found myself in the forests Hoarwood pushing my way through the dark and twisted trees. Branches whipping at me, holding me back while the wind cackled and screeched. Then a glowing sword appeared and its light lead me through the brush and brambles. Upon exiting the trees, I found myself in a field of battle. Bodies laid dead and decapitated around me. Smoke burning from the chicken legged huts stinging my lungs as I laboured to breathe.
“The sword hung in the air atop a small mound where I could survey the whole expanse. As I climbed the hill, I reached out and grabbed the sword and took it. At that point, I was bathed in bright light. I could feel the rush of the battle that just took place. My heart raced as I held the sword aloft.
“Battle and glory shall be mine. I shall lay waste to all those stand before me. In the name of Gorum, I shall take this charge!”
(Of course that is how he remembers it. There was a sword, dead bodies and the ruined huts of the White Witches. Though it did not play out that way.
He awoke in a ditch after being knocked out in the battle. My Goddess did protect him as he is to be her new chosen one. As he staggered out of the thornbush, the remains on the field were still smoking. One of the dead was myself, the previous chosen of The Inheritor that was to rid the Land of Eternal Winter of Baba Yaga and all her daughters. My body was atop the mound he describes. My blessed sword lay beside me glowing and calling out for its next champion. But is the zwiehander that was impaled in me that he saw. Leave it to the Ulfen to take largest and ugliest weapon on the field.
It was when he went to pry the greatsword that he stepped on and broke my holy blade. Its magical energy release in one explosive holy light.
Now I try to guide this oaf to his true calling. My Goddess still did bestow upon him her powers, and I have been charged to get him on his rightful path. I do not know what sin I had done to deserve such penance in my afterlife. But such is Her will.)
Meeting the Professor
“It was not that cold of a morning, by that I mean that there was no ice on my beard when I woke. I know I was close to that bastard low-life that stole my dagger. If I move quickly I would catch him before high sun.
“Picking my way across the frozen soil, I heard the coward’s cry of torment. He was preying again on the weak just up the path. I moved closely as to get in better position. And I saw him and his puny companions. They had encircled an old man and his caravan. They made their threats to take what they did not deserve.
“Without another thought, I charged forth from my vantage point and felled two of the wretched lackeys before they knew I was there. Two others then jumped at me but fell in one swing of my sword.
“Then it was me and the bandit that stole my dagger. I gave him a small nod and call out, ‘Fight me now if you have any honor left in your soul!’
“He lunged at me and knicked me with his dagger. I could feel the coward’s poison trying to make its way through my veins, but my will would not allow it. Enraged, I charged forward and cleft in half from neck to hip. His two pieces fell with soften thumps on the frozen earth.”
(Two reasons why there was no ice in his beard. First, alcohol freezes at a lower temperature, and saying that is was morning was generous at best. Though it was the sounds of bandits waylaying a traveller that did wake the drunken oaf.
_There were only three bandits that day. He was still seeing double from the previous night revelry. So the dispatching of the pairs was not as spectacular as it seems. _
With that said, I may call my charge a dunkard, an oaf, and a womanizing boar, but he does know how to wield that beast of a sword. After a few feints in which he was nicked by leader, he did just what he claimed and in one swing cut that bandit in two as if he were soften butter.)
“After clearing my blade and retrieving my property, the old man introduced himself as Lorrimor the Professor. Which I think means book man who does not cast magic.
“We walked aways and soon set camp, he was fairly shaken by the days events and thus shortened his days travels. I sat with him that night and we swapped stories.
“I did travel with him for a few day, as he did have a very fine wine from across the north. Some Manki brew from a grain called ‘rice.’ Though soon we had to part ways. For his defense, I left him my dagger. He said if I make it to Ustalav, I should stop by and sample his collections of wines and ales from across the lands.”
(Ah, good Professor Lorrimor. I had met him myself some time ago. A good and honest man. I think he had some type of second site, but one can never tell. He did seem to recognize my dagger. It was my dagger that the lummox was carrying. I believe that is why he asked for it. It really was not part of this event, but somehow that simpleton somehow made it the key to the whole story.)
Bjorn’s View on the Party
It has been a glorious month. We vanquished the horror of Caromach castle and glory was had by all. Well most of us at least.
She is a sweet girl, though not really ready for the true life of battle. Though she is quick of wit and fearless. She keeps a good house and her food is good. It is good to have her in our company
Not sure what to make of this desert witch. She is wise, but not as cold as the ice witches of the north. She actually cares about other around her. Her potions are both in helping us and devastating to our foes.
This girl has the fire of demons in her, and fights with their conviction. Although she prefers the crossbow, and fine shot she is with it, she can hold her own when the battle goes toe-to-toe. Favored by the Valkyries, although a little short to be one. I would gladly have her as a shield maiden.
Still a strange man. Mostly harmless.