Take care of yourself. No hard feelings from my end. Would much rather you take care of what matters then to burn out
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”There is but one in existence whom I would dance with.” Hrungnir said. ”The most beautiful being in existence, Vailessia Greystone.” He said, with feeling. ”But how might I go about doing so? It is a boon worth more than the most jealously guarded secret, or the most private of memories. Many a year ago I saw her in the mortal realms. To have seen her...to have heard her voice...it was enough to give up all I had or knew just for the chance of seeing her again. I would ask her, but how might I do so without a social faux pas? To have my quest dashed due to ignorance would be a most unfitting end to this tale.”
Hrungnir drank the fire wine, ate the gold lamb, and even ate the egg. A veteran of many a Dwarven feast, he was no stranger to hard alcohol or prodigious amounts of food, so he handled both with good grace.
Giving his thanks, Hrungnir did just that. Unwilling to be rude, he followed custom, eating all of the gold lamb before him.
Hrungnir leaned over to his neighbor and said ”First time ‘ere, y’see? With a fare so substantial I’d hate to choose the wrong dish, or make the wrong impression. What would ye suggest as a safe choice?”
Hrungnir remained oblivious as to the meaning behind...well...anything. But at least he held his alcohol.
Hrungnir watched those who were named to see what the proper reaction was.
Knowing absolutely nothing about the various drinks, Hrungnir decided that wine was too elven and cordial too sweet. So he ordered the ale. Like the soup it was closest to home. And if a bunch of posh nobles didn’t like him for it? Then to hells with them. For in doubt, when would ale be a poor choice?
Hrungnir looked at the menu with a critical eye. He didn’t recognize any of it...but snowflake soup? The image reminded him of the snowy vistas of his long abandoned homeland. And that was enough for him. While he was sure that the taste would be nothing like he was used to, it was as good a choice as any.
Before, sorry for lateness and thanks for reminder: ” The eye creature is exotic, unlike almost anything I’ve ever heard of or read about. However, in some ways it seems similar to a flesh golem...only employing one very specific type of flesh.”
As an Eldritch Knight, Hrungnir can summon his weapon and shield, so there is no need for him to have them on his person. It’s more effective than being peacebond if things go south. Would it be appropriate to consider Hrungnir’s clothing to count as padded armor? Given that he went with a Dwarven design, I’d imagine that it would be thick. That, and it would bring his AC up to...10! 12 if he summons his shield.
Hrungnir approached, dressed in his image of what nobility should look like. Dressed in tones of earth and gold, with a fur trimmed cloak, and with both fingers and beard lined with gold. The value of metal was little in such a place when wealth included both memories and dreams. Usually he kept his hair and his beard neatly tied to be as practical as possible, but now he had gone for style. In every respect his outfit resembled that of the nobles he had seen in his homeland of Stannasgard, for in his eyes they were the epitome of both grace and power. Their king was a warrior of near peerless might, a fact which was seen by all as fitting of the station. His lantern dragon eye flew by his side and he idly and fondly scratched it’s head. It’s eyes flickered about, as it scanned the room with Hrungnir. The halo above his head clearly showed his affiliation, and only added to his attire.
”Good security. Over a half dozen archers with good line of sight and fairly well hidden. The head of security should be commended. And so many illusions here. Demons and devils abound. I see at least six. Ah...my manners. I muse aloud, a poor habit to have.” He turned to the herald. ”I am Hrungnir Runebinder, and may be announced as such.”
The environment was slowly eating away at Hrungnir’s mind. Despite his earlier success, he was quickly becoming disoriented. He stopped and closed his eyes, taking deep and steady breaths to focus and calm down.
”I see that coin isn’t bartered here, but rather, memories. Ye got the clothes? I have something to trade.” Hrungnir was walking through the deepest mines, far beyond where dwarfs normally went. These were the tunnels that had been tapped out generations ago, the bounty of the earth stripped away. Here and there were signs of the old life. Mining picks lying in dust. Torch racks, rotted doors....and the ever present sound of the echo of his boots. This was part of his apprenticeship. He was to go all the way to the Pools of Amanazur, and there he was to scry on his father. Only when he completed this task could he return home. He was so lost in his thoughts that he did not notice that he was walking into a mushroom grove, for when the dwarfs abandoned the mine, new life had moved in. Nor did he notice the release of spoors...until it was too late. First came there coughing, and his eyes watered. The young dwarf staggered around, his vision blurring. He tried to cry out but there was nobody around to hear him. Fear gripped him as he began to hallucinate. The ancient tunnels grew darker as reason fled. The walls held demonic faces and arms reached out of the shadows, as the insidious spoors robbed him of his senses. He tried to run, but as he did so he tripped and his lantern shattered on the ground. Darkness engulfed him, and along with it came unthinking terror.... Hrungnir crossed his arms. ”Learned an important lesson that day. While not a pleasant memory, it’s a useful one. For it is such memories that make us who we are. And to think, trading it for clothes...” He thought of his fey love and sighed. This wasn’t just for clothes. It was for her. ”So what’ll that buy me?” He scratched the head of his familiar, whom he named Drakbryn (literally ‘the Glittering Dragon”).
Am thinking about the memory...going to sit on it for the day and post when I have the time to do so.
Hrungnir will send his lantern dragonette out to find a place in which he can get some proper clothing for the upcoming ball. If it fails to find him such a place, then he would like to return to his faction to ask them for appropriate attire.
“ She wears black leather armor and kills people for money, often times mocking them while she does so.” I’ll take ‘Most PCs for 100’, Alex.
”Good question, lad. Also it seems like bits of him are missing. Such magic would be useful in finding out who did this, and why.”
While thoroughly confused, Hrungnir tried his best to keep a cool head and to be of use to the group.
Hrungnir bent over the body of his friend and bowed his head. The lantern dragonette at his side rubbed it’s head against his leg and he patted it, showing his appreciation at the gesture. Deimus had been one of his few true friends, and already he missed him. He quietly spoke a prayer over the kobold’s body. ”Lo, there do ye see yer father,
He stood up and turned away, walking a short distance to compose himself. Truth be told this wasn’t unexpected. The games they played were dangerous, and it was a small miracle that none had died before this. But it hurt all the same. He prayed that in the afterlife Deimus would have the body he yearned for and would be at peace.
Wait...Car and Lexi are evil?
”Oh bloody abyss. Now we need to deal with a bunch of tarts AND need to find proper clothing. Which by our luck will mean having to sell our souls rather than just buying a pair of pants.” Hrungnir grumbled.
Me too. It’s fun to think about. It does help explain the general cavalier attitude towards death, when everyone knows that (a) resurrection is possible and (b) afterlife is real.
Hrungnir shrugged. ”Good and evil are real things, as are law and chaos. They are as real as the elemental planes of existence. Mortals are made up out of all of the above, so it is our choice on what we do. Our inability to understand the planes does not make them any less real. When a Solar says that something is good, then it is. For it is good without the bias that comes from culture, desire, regret, or bias. There is no point arguing, for all we do is argue as to what we wish for the planes to be, rather than what they are.”
Seeing that the solar was still waiting, Hrungnir thought for a moment, and then shared what he had seen about the location’s defenses, pointing out both the strengths and weaknesses, to the best of his ability.
First Hrungnir showed his runes, and demonstrated his use of them. He trusted that the Solar knew of them, their power, and history. He also displayed the arcane power at his disposal.
He then showed his artifice, showing the armor he had made with his own hands.
He spoke then, rather clumsily, about what an honor it would be, but quickly stopped as he began to trip over his own words.
So instead he displayed his knowledge of history, and spoke instead about the history of his people in fighting evil, and his knowledge of such matters.
And finally he showed his skill at arms, proving that he was a warrior, both strong of body and skilled in the use of his weaponry.
”I am steadfast in my conviction to always do what my heart says is right, wherever that may take me. To put the utmost respect and effort into my craft and to be steadfast in battle. I hope that meets with yer approval, for that is all I can honestly offer.” Hrungnir said, his heart beating like a drum in his chest. He felt unable to look away or to lie.
Hrungnir’s eyes went wide. ”By the secret paths, that’s a Solar!” He said in hushed awe. Without much further thought he fell down to one knee. With only some hesitation he said ”Evil? Can’t say I’m sure what exactly it is that ye’d judge as that. Me Clan called it evil when I abandoned hearth and kin to pursue the woman I love. I’ve killed many an enemy in battle, and they’ve likely thought me actions to be evil. The elflings invading the mortal realm that fell to me hand, for example, likely cursed me for ending their lives. I’ve always done what I think to be right, but what I think and what others do differ. That is the best I can answer...as unlike ye I do not see so clearly.” He said, honestly.
Standing next to Kjeta, Hrungnir bowed politely. ”And I am Hrungnir, worker of runes. We’ve heard much of ye, of both power and wisdom. It is an honor to be here.”
That is truly saddening. He was a great addition to the party. Deimus, if you read this: I loved your character and your writing. Wish you the best.
”Everyone. I appreciate yer help. I think I’ve decided, that if I’m going to woo her, then I need to it being meself. With that in mind, I need yer help. Find me a way to talk to her, please. I’ll do whatever is needed. Fight any champion they have! Once ye can get it, find me at the forge. I know what I must do in preparation.” ——-At the Forge—— Hrungnir began his work, unable to wait for the others to (hopefully) agree to his request. With very little to work with, he began with his gold coins. To start, he had to purify the gold. This was easy enough. All he needed for this was to add some copper and silver before adding the gold, and then using nitric acid. For this, his own spells did much of the work. As he worked, he sang, loudly and clearly for all to hear:
He sang from the heart, without shame or hesitation. Are you going to Zobeck Fair?
As he sang he worked the gold into the shape of a ring. Have you make me a mail shirt
He thought of what he had learned of the song, and how it was not meant to be taken literally. It was never a test of craftsmanship, but rather of his character. As he worked, he put his heart and soul into his craft. He was determined to do his best, just to show her that he cared. All he wanted from this was to make her smile. To show her that he understood of what she sung of. And that if she would but deign to wear what he made, then it would complete him. Tell you forged it in a sycamore wood lane
He made the golden ring to adorned with images of puppies at play. Along the gold they chased each other in a circle. A never ending loop of innocence and joy. Have you found me on an acre of land
He sang, on and on, his voice unwavering. Finally, in this place, so close to her, all of the endurance and craft of his people was on full display. He felt as if though he could work for an eternity. Each face, every paw, was a testament of his love for her. His eyes were strained to their limits as he tried to make the movements be just right, so that it truly looked like they were in movement. Love imposes impossible tasks
On the inside of the band, in the most delicate dwarven script that he could write, he wrote in his native tongue, that this was his gift, and that it contained with it his undying admiration, and appreciation for her unfading wisdom and beauty. While technically it was far easier than the outside images, he found pouring his soul into words to be the harder of the two tasks.
Finally, he was done. And the singing began to end. He looked over what he had made, his brow dripping sweat. He held the ring up. His singing at and end. He held up the ring, and prayed that he would have a chance to present it. Looking at the ring with longing in his eyes, he said the end with a parched throat and a voice on the edge of cracking: ”And I must know, are you a true love of mine?”
At the talk of marrying the princess, Hrungnir blushed. Which fortunately for him was mostly hidden by his beard. ”Too early for such talk. If I can but speak with her, it would be enough. And I don’t think that thrusting a puppy at her will be enough. But nay, I’d hate the idea of her marrying a demon lord. How would such a marriage work, with her being so pure?” He trailed off, waiting to hear what Raseri had to say on her absence.
Hrungnir lowered his head and raised his hands in a show of gratitude. ”Truly, I am blessed to have such comrades...such, friends.” He looked at Deimus and Carnadine. ”Truth be told, I don’t have much, uhm, experience, talking to the fairer sex. Well, not outside of business and the like. And when I look at her, it’s like me heart is going to fall out. Do ye really think that could be arranged? And if so, what will I say?” He looked at the two, somewhat panicked. ”What does one say to a girl he likes?”
I’d love to have, as well as anyone else who wishes to, be part of this. I’m more than willing to assume that Carnadine is present and that Hrungnir was not trying to keep this private.
Hrungnir walked as if in a daze. When Deimus approached him, he stopped though. With a smile on his face he looked at his friend and said ” Vailessia. That is her name...a name as beautiful as she is. I have learned that she is not an evil enchantress, but rather is as good and innocent as any in this realm might be. Puppies.” He said, his face finally clear. ”Where can we find puppies? And the demon lord of Roaches? Should I duel him?” He looked thoughtful, before suddenly saying ”I will start from the beginning. My friend, I need your help. I am trained to patiently fold metal and work runes, and this is love, and politics, and...and I am adrift here. Will ye help me?”
Hrungnir ignored the commotion around him. His eyes were focused on but one goal. The world could rot for all he cared at that moment. Though he needed to know more...
He worked his way through the crowd, possessed of a singular goal and complete confidence in his actions. He diligently worked to learn all he could about his lady love, for what better time than now to do so?
Reading up on 25 posts now. Have to say, I’m impressed with how our GM is integrating player backstories and goals so seamlessly into the campaign. It’s making for very interesting reading. —-
Indomitable
You can use this feature twice between long rests starting at 13th level and three times between long rests starting at 17th level.
Hrungnir’s world shrank to naught but him and his love. He didn’t have Snowcrash on him, as his comrade temporarily wielded it. He warned the knight that the weapon was bound to him, and that if needed he had the power to recall it. So in a life or death situation, the weapon might vanish. In which case he should have his own blade handy, though Hrungnir would do all he could to avoid that. While the warning likely wouldn’t be needed, Hrungnir was thorough in giving his word, and did not wish to lie, even if by accident or through omission. But none of that mattered. Nor did the silent Lexi, or the transformed Raseri, or the free flowing coffee. He was locked in his own world of shadows. He walked away, as if in a daze, pushing his way through the crowd and towards the one thing that he desired.
Don’t check this for two days and look what happens...
Hrungnir the *DWARF* regarded the oddity with a quizzical eye. He thought about all he knew of creatures such as this, to pinpoint what they might be dealing with.
Not a bad deal
”The lass is an adult. She can make her own choices. And once a word is given, it cannot be taken back.” Hrungnir said. He took a sip of ale and closed his eyes, relishing the taste. ”Ah...so good I almost forget that we’re stuck in a nightmare. Anyways, so long as Thor sees fit to bless her, there’s nay need to worry. I trust the insight of the Gods more than I trust me own.”
Hrungnir began laughing. It started as a chuckle and rose into a full blown, body shaking laugh. He was *happy.* He couldn’t remember the last time he felt such joy. ”Heh...hehe...hahaha!” He pumped his fist in the air triumphantly. ”Oh, bless ye lass! Got anything to drink? I can’t think of a better reason that celebrate than to toast the Alemother!”
Hrungnir woke the next day with excitement. This was it! The day his curse would be broken! He’d be handsome again! It took all of his willpower to not wake the others early.
This all reads like Raseri is about to switch class from Cleric to warlock...
”I’m of me word. I understand their position, but I have mine. Yer all free to deal as ye wish.” Hrungnir had stated his conditions, and as they were not met he wasn’t going to make the deal.
”I will do it...on three conditions.” Hrungnir said, walking forward and bowing politely. ”First, that the task associated is stated upfront and is put into writing, with agreement made when both sides sign, and signing done after any and all compulsions or curses on us be removed first. Secondly, that when the task is complete I will be relieved of any and all obligation, with nay any control or power over me, besides for what the dictates of honor and friendship hold over of a just heart, and third.” He paused. ”That if ye know of...a certain fey who hold my heart, that ye will tell me what ye know of her.” With a resolute look on his face he said ”Is that agreeable?” Was it a risk? Certainly. But if his terms were acceptable, then he had much to gain...
Taken aback by the knight’s eloquence, Hrungnir stood mutely, barely registering his name being mentioned.
Good luck! Have fun :)
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