Solveig Meginsdottir's page

Nay, it depends. Poetry is a craft too.

...and so is the blood eagle.

A pale Ulfen woman, clad in tiny white scales that shimmer faintly, smiles broadly and intones

Hear one, hear all. It is this agent's pride and joy to summon all who wish to bear witness to, and take part in the ensuing festivities - may they be grand - of, the grand opening of of Jol's upcoming new lodge. Be of easy mind and light step though, for there's still time. Never let it be said that Ulfens hurry, except to raid[she takes a strategic pause for the laughter to die down], so 3 seasons still stand between the building's completion and this moment. Ah, I should've hired dwarves! [some booing can be heard]

Tian cuisine, half-orc brews, Virlychian red and oh, you might see a linnorm. Doubt it though, the taxidermist's an ulfen and the beast is far too dead for raiding![another pause] Don't miss it!

Silence becomes the Son of a prince,
To be silent but brave in battle:
It befits a man to be merry and glad
Until the day of his death,

The coward believes he will live forever
If he holds back in the battle,
But in old age he shall have no peace
Though spears have spared his limbs

I, Solveig, daughter of Megin Troll-Fury who lies justly avenged, gilt-tongued speaker at Thing, conqueror of Hinojai, Dokeran and Koor, champion of the Ruby Phoenix and luxuriant in friendships many, have slain the orm Venomsilt and taken kingship over Southmoor. With Borgus Boil-Wit I lay the stones of our first lodge and open the gates of Torandey for sages and seers. May they never slam shut.

Also, on my last mission a troll hit me like a fathom of hail. Once Borgus rules Averaka, and rule it he shall, I will personally see Flintyreach's giant-kin driven before me and hear the lamentations of their get. Ahhhh...sweet vengeance

[human Arcane Duelist 6/Urban Barbarian 3/Dragon Disciple 4 after Ironbound Schism and EotT gm chronicles]

You people are so petty...and tiny.

The kingdoms call their sons and daughter home. Finally! Praised Gorum, may my last mission sing your fame.

...

Blech, orcspawn...

Ah, fair Lady Basia. I hope Miregrold Manor is treating her well.

T'was a handful, gods keep. Nay, more it was utter damnation! Ne'ertheless, anything for a noble lady.

Mental note: never again. That building is beweirded.

a towering ulfen clothed in royal purple speaks, her words dripping with disdain

Golden League? Weaklings, dregs, bottom feeders! Betraying the sanctity of the tournament and then sending their foot soldiers upon us? Us, the champions of the Open Road, world-walkers, legend-weavers and iron-bearers?! Insults and impudence. I could hear Heimsraustr retch upon the blood drunk that day. His tongue burned black by the bile of dishonour.

Of the Aspis, the less said the better. Too many friends lost in the folds of the Tapestry, too many plots laid bare, maggoty and seething.

Ah, fair Lady Basia. I hope Miregrold Manor is treating her well.

T'was a handful, gods keep. Nay, more it was utter damnation! Ne'ertheless, anything for a noble lady.

Burbs, but you have forgotten your friend, the rock. It wouldn't like that, would it now?

Aye, a guisarme holds my banner aloft. T'is rather fitting huscarl weapon if I do say so myself, for is it not an ax held high?

I've heard rumblings about words and hands, how to hold it and what to hoist it on whatnot, so to me it followed that yon' weapon should be a pole and 8 feet high.

Wish t'were clearer, to say the least. Some rules perplex me.

Tian Xia? Why yes, the fair pools of Goka, singing rills of sun-kissed Minkai and droning whitewaters of the eastern sea do beckon me.

But it is the cold north I long for: To see the seafoam'd wave-heads crash, one upon one, like falling titans on the grey shores of Karlsgard, to taste the rimed breeze as it flies 'ere fierce winds blow from the Crown. Nothing quite like it.

Ah, that is my home - the Kingdoms.