* Introducing a new character in my current line up, Brynyarr Torigsson ; a blood elf warrior with a twist *
The blood tasted salty on his tongue, and he spat out a stream of the liquid fluid that filled his mouth , onto the snowy ground. Looking to his opponent ,a grizzled old man , who stood barechested, in the frigid air, his axe beating against the shield ; beard falling to his chest in a grey fall . Though aged ,in body, his wisdom, and ferocity keep him going. The younger man , gathered up his blade, where it had fallen on the ground ,and rolled his shoulders .
“Come on boy.. what are you ? a warrior, or a milkmaid? Afraid to hit an old man?” the old veteran taunted the young man, who gave a bloody grimace in answer before he charged the old man, which the old man was expecting. Stepping to the side, he used his shield hand, to meet the young man’s rush,and deliver him a blow with the dulled axe he held in his hand. The young man, surprisingly twisted out of reach , throwing the old man’s swing off ,before he brought his blade down on the shield . There was a resounding crack ,as the wood gave way ,splitting in half. Before the old man could recover from the surprise maneuver he could feel the tip of the blade at his throat. Giving a low grunt ” Better..but you still need work; you need to stop leaving your left flank open.. your fancy bladework won’t save your life if you don’t watch your flank . I want you to start learning to use a shield”
The blade left his throat ,and the young man, sheathed back into place before he quirked a dark brow as he took in the ruined shield ” Like it did for you ?1″ . the old man snorted ,and cuffed the young man upside the head to instill proper manners ” Hush whelp.. you might be young, and strong but you are also stupid..don’t let the arrogance of youth be your downfall; like it has so many ” Rubbing his head where the cuff connected, the young man winced but he stilled his glib tongue and listened to the older man .
While aged, the old man had long since adapted to the frigid climes of Northrend. Originally from Lordaeron, he had learned that the fighting style of the Alliance was more of a hindrance to them in the harsh environment ; so he adapted. He shed the teachings of the south and embraced the north, accepting that his fate laid in the icy realm of snow and ice.Among the many that were stranded on Northrend’s icy , he was one of the few survivors.. however unlike the rest of the survivors..who clung steadfastly to their past lives ; he left the comfort of the settlements and struck forth to immersive himself into this ancient land. In Lordaeron , he was Sir Edmund Chamberlaine , a member of a secret order known as the Tyr’s Guard. He was dispatched at the behest of Travard, the leader of that secretive order to Lordaeron, when news came that they were to pursue Prince Arthas to Northrend..that had been many years ago.. he lost friends.. loved ones but gained new ones in their place. During his travels he found a small settlement of high elves hidden within borders of Grizzly Hills ,and Wintergrasp; he had been the first human they had laid eyes since the Lich king had wiped out the previous inhabitants of Northrend,and raised them as zombies. How they escaped the fate , was in their ability to hide within the energies of the leylines that criss crossed Northrend. As he spent more time in their company, he found himself fitting right in,and took on the characteristics of his ancestors.. the vrykul.. the ability to withstand the bitter colds,the increased stamina and strength. While his order was across the sea, possibly in ruins..he was reborn in a sense ..and thus became Einar the Old.. as the only human in the settlement, his apparent age and wisdom , was sought out by the elves. His years of fighting , had garnered him the position of mentor to many of the village’s warriors and shieldmaidens. His ability to channel the Light ,and his vast knowledge of the world that they were ignorant to , earned him a place as an elder on the council..
Looking at the strapping young man before him, he found it hard to believe that the lad before him was already a man grown. It seemed like only yesterday that his mother had birthed him, and yet here he was , training to be warrior , like her. The old veteran merely leaned over and grabbed a shield, and handed it to the young man., before clapping him on the shoulder ” You have potential, Brynyarr.. you just need to temper your zeal for battle with wisdom; calling to the gods for strength is all fine and good but they expect you to earn that strength, and want you to think for yourself , not become a mindless sheep like so many ” he advises the young man in a firm tone that commanded respect. The young man nodded in understanding and bowed his head in respect to the elder before taking the shield firm in hand ” I understand ,elder… I will learn to use the shield ,like you advised .. hopefully our next session will go better ,yes?” he looked to his mentor ,noting the fine webbing of wrinkles about the old man’s eyes . Though he didn’t look it, Old Einar was far older than he should be ,given the climate.. most newcomers barely made it past their first winter , those that did; proved to be alot hardier than their counterparts. However he didn’t see Old Einar, as one of those weak southerners.. the old grizzled veteran had more than earned his place, and when the time that Odyn called him to the sacred halls of Valhalla.. he would be given a proper send off. The old man, merely nodded and waved him off ” good.. now go.. I’m sure your mother has some chores for you …tell her the biscuits were well recieved .. Huln and I had a good feed this morning ” he gestures to the massive grizzly , who snoozed nearby.
Bryn chuckled but he made a wary circle around the bear.. he respected the power and strength of the beast. Old Einar wrestled the bear for several hours , getting between it and the children before the bear gave in . Since then , the bear became a fixture ,and never left Old Einar’s side , often dozing in the sun while Einar taught the young men the basic rudiments of fighting and the principles of warfare. The only family that Einar had , was his wife Agnetta, whom he had met and married when he arrived in the village; sadly Agnetta passed on due to a lingering illness but his daughter had become the village smith much to everyone’s surprise; a skill and profession passed on by her father.
Taking the shield, and his blade, Brynyarr, made his way to the long house that he share with his parents and siblings , nodding to his mother Eire and sister , Svanhilde ;who sat outside plucking chickens for the evening meal , and to his brother , Egil, who was close by , chopping wood. Noticing his father’s absence , as well as that of his younger brother ,Haldur; he looked around ” Where is father, and Haldur ?” he asked in concern “They are at the village council, speaking to them about expanding the village ;as we are greatly outgrowing the village and we need to expand the defenses to encompass the new longhouses that will going up in the future ” his mother replied, not lifting her head from her task ” Ah..I see. ” before he leans down and plants a kiss on her cheek ,as he sets the shield down ,along with his blade. Taking one of the birds, he joins them in plucking it, to speed up their task. Looking up , to see her eldest helping her and his sister,Eire smiled faintly ..Though Brynyarr was not his father’s son, her husband had adopted the lad as his own, when they were married. As far , Bryn knew, Alvar was his father ; she barely thought of the dark skinned warrior ,whom she had laid with those many years ago, and concieved Brynyarr. It was only for a night’s pleasure but shortly after they parted she found out she was pregnant. However she had never seen her son’s sire after that one night.. and she doubted she ever would. She knew Alvar for some time, and during her pregnancy , he was there for her, and helped her when Bryn came during a snowstorm, before the midwife could be fetched. It was that bond that brought them close, and shortly after Brynyarr was born, she and Alvar were wed. In the following years, he would be followed by brothers Egil, and Haldur ,as well as a sister Svanhilde. Though life was hard in Northrend, they were fortunate .. they had a thriving community, and have developed trade alliances with the Taunka and the Tuskarr. The balmy summers of Grizzly hills made planting crops possible , giving them a variety of vegetables ,and other crops in which they could trade for fish, shellfish ,and other crustaceans , they couldn’t find in Grizzly hills.
Once the chickens were plucked and cleaned; he took his shield and blade inside, where he filled a bowl full of water ,from a nearby pitcher, and cleaned the sweat from his face and body, occasionally catching glimpses of himself in the mirror. Pausing to take a look at himself , he frowned at the darker skin he inherited from his sire, as well as the ebon locks , but the eyes.. were all his own. Not the fel green but more of a mix of golds , and rusts..very much like a panther’s own, as Old Einar would describe them.,, or that of a hungry wolf. His chiseled features were sharp ,and angular, rugged in some ways, yet refined in others. The bridge of his nose ,had a lump where he had broken it during a sparring session with his best friend Haakon. His mouth was thin lipped but sensual, frequently breaking into a ready grin ,or a wicked smirk depending on the situation. He couldn’t complain about the broad muscular shoulders, nor the broad chest, and narrow waist that he had the good fortune to inherit through either good genes or the extensive training he underwent each day . With narrow hips, and long muscular legs, he was quite tall , compared to his father,and siblings, even towering over his best friend. Splashing over his face, he raked a calloused hand through the long unruly locks , brushing them out of his eyes but they persisted in falling into his face. Sighing in resignation, he grabbed a piece of string , he gathered a handful of hair ,and tied it back before he rubbed his chin, pondering how he would look with a beard before snorting in disgust, changing into clean clothes.