Orathian Bjomolf

Orathian Bjomolf wandered away from his home at the young age of nine while following a white wolf cub. Lost and alone Orathian and Ghost was, over the years, raised by the kindness of an community of northlanders learning how to tan hide and craft leather goods. Starting as a warrior, training with many of other boys, his love of nature and his survival instincts however continually led him and his animal companion into the wilds of Midguard where many others feared to go.

Over the next ten years Orathien watched Ghost grow to become a cunning hunter and steadfast companion. This however never sat well with most of the local people who each year either hoped the wolf would run off or be killed by the folly of one of the gods.

His hand at leathercraft and animal handing earned him a reasonable honest wage and everything was well until one of the villagers took it upon himself to frame Ghost for killing his live stock. It was an obvious lie, but it was all that was needed to get the majority of people to support the claim that Ghost was a threat.

That was earlier this winter, now nineteen, Orathien has abandoned the path of common warrior to becoming a pack lord druid. Now with his companion Ghost, and his new friends, Orathien travels headlong bravely to their destiny.

Review 12/20/2014 (Ruins, Horses, Nargenstal)

It was only an ogre. 

A short time after the Spring Gathering, where agreements are met and feuds are settled our new group of travelers met up at a central meeting landmark. Our ppurpose was to travel to Nargenstal and retrieve two horses each; the fruition of deals brokered two seasons ago. We come together not as strangers but as acquaintances having seeing each other before maybe once or twice a season.  

Vorware Undhin, a trickster of Loki. Elisa Berit, the lovely Bard. Draco Morn, expert fighter. Arnum Stormcloak, cleric of Thor. Orathian Bjomolf a pack lord Durid.

Together as we traveled closer to Nargenstal, exchanging stories of the Ice-Spiders with its blood that won’t freeze and who’s venom freezes its victims we come to a crossroads equidistant from Nargenstal to the south east and some ruins to the south west. We decide to boldly stride head-long to unknown dangers and the smell of cooking horses.

First Orog kill and fist to fall. 

At the ruins we encounter three orogs and an ogre who have managed to escape with some horses (our horses) from Nargenstal (which we later learned is sacked). Thanks to Draco, who felled the original orog, Elisa who with her bow dropped the other two orogs, while Arnum put the ferocious ogre down staining the ruins with its blood.

Gathering what resources we could: 1 large sets of hide armor, 4 large javelins, 3 set of half plate, 3 great axes, 20 normal javelins, 3 composite short bows str +2, 120 arrows, and some silver that we immediately split up we camped.

The day was late so we dumped the bodies into the sea and rested before our full day travel to Nargenstal. On the road we discover evidence that Nargenstal has been sacked. Leaving our 5-7 horses in a couple of near-by hovels we scout further, Orathian sending his wolf Ghost out to great effect.

Soon we came across an old man named Ottur. Ottur is a man in his 40s who was over joyed at seeing anything other than the creatures that sacked his home. He described the reaving raiders as

Felled two Orogs with her amazing archery skill. 

mixed races who killed the men and took the women and children who are held up in the Great Barn. They seemed to be led by a giant or ogre, 'tall as a house' Ottur claimed, and was aided by dragon-kin (kobolds). Two days ago the Moss Back Reavers came but also with a mysterious ‘hunter’ who was looking for something.

He mentions two cowards from Nargenstal, Svakia a human ‘singer’ and Duminac a dwarf; but he was out looking for his lost pigs. We told him of the hovels back up the path and to heed the care of our horses until our return, to which he happily agreed.

After a half hour of scouting we conclude Nargenstal was a community of 40-50 individuals, fishermen and such. There was the Great Barn and a place called the Frost Maiden where the giant/ogre sees over 3 troll-kins, and the kobolds.

We begin next session with a wet offensive coming in through Valfish Bay Bitches!

Beginnings

Thor sat at the end of his feast table, alone in his great hall. He stared out into the void, peering at the brilliant, distant, countless points of light he knew to be other worlds. His ears strained, concentrating on the rush of Midgard's oceans as they roared against and over the scales of Auroborous at the world's edges. Midgard was the world closest to his own, Asgard, and in many ways was the most important to him.
     "Stop your brooding, Lord of Thunder." Sif  set a huge flagon before the moody countenance of her husband.  "I shall not apologize for my words and you would be wise to heed them"
     Thor reached for the flagon of ambrosia, and Sif could see the storms recede from his eyes. "My brother is misunderstood by those that love him, so I understand your mistrust. What you, and father, and all the others fail to see is this: Loki does as he must. It is his nature, he can not be other than Loki. For all the trouble he causes the rest of us, he is as strong as any against our enemies, and has taught us as much about the monsters of the universe as he has exposed us to them. He too is a son of  Wotan, and I believe he is right this time."
     Sif drank from her husbands cup and considered her words carefully. "You will do as you see fit Thor, and you have my blessings and hope that all works to your favor. But remember this, your brothers interests are not the same as your own, so tread carefully and mind his tricky nature."