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Ready for Review! Adolf Arvidson
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Adolf Arvidson Offline
The Iron Folk
Aesir


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Tribe: Jotunland
Clann: The Heimdallingar
Occupation: Hovding of Vuurhaard

Posts: 11
Joined: Jul 2013
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Post: #1
Adolf Arvidson
Adolf Arvidson, Son of Arvid Aronson, Kyn of Soaring Eagle

[Image: tumblr_mcknqxO8KM1rjabkmo1_500.jpg]

THE SOUL
Age: 29
Gender: Male
Race: Aesir
Class: Holder - Dishonored
Tribe: Jotunland
Clan: Heimdallingar
Religious Status: Thor Thunderwalker, Oden Allfather
Political Status: N/A
Occupation: Outlaw

Combat / Magic:

Magic
  • Summoning (Adept) - As his adolescent ages were finally coming to an end he began his second Craft called Summoning. Most of the Crafts made a child like him nonchalant, the inability to see the actual magic caused him to turn away from all, but one type of Craft. Summoning. The visual wonders he enjoyed from summoning little squirrels, bunnies, and birds into his room late at night caused him to dive into his studies.

    Now here he is twenty-two years later an exile surrounded my murders and outlaws; yet, that decision to of focusing on the more visual of all the Crafts is his best asset. Making flames dance across his fingertips or having dire vargs resting at your side causes many of those wild men to become disciplined and trustworthy; well as much as an outlaw can be trusted. When the time comes for him to rise back from the ashes of the destruction of his Kyn he will be glad he has the ability to summon the nature to his call.
  • Weaves (adept) - At Seven he was allowed to choose his first focus in Craft and Weaves is what beckoned him. The ability to turn into a beast is what caused him to decide to study Weaves; however, it was the Enhancing that kept him focused.

    Now he uses the different weaves he creates in a multiple different aspects. In order for him to get intelligence he creates a shaper skins for a bird so he can float on the gusts of wind listening to others without them noticing anything. Or he uses the skins to transform himself into one of the more vicious creatures that call the mountains and forests home. Weaves allow him advantages that are and were essential for his plans to come into affect.

Combat
  • One Handed Sword (Blooded) - As a lad with the ice of Norland pumping through his veins he was trained in the art of warfare. The type of weapon he was given during the early days of his weaponry training was of the one handed sword family. His training in this was to be his foundation for later on with different types of weaponry.

    With a one handed sword he is allowed to be more agile and less cumbersome in a fight; it also allows him to do intricate swordplay that calls for cunning more than brute strength. Cunning and agility are the key factors in this type of weaponry.
  • Two Handed Sword (Blooded) - True to the nature of an Aesir man he was moved towards the hallmark of an Aesir warrior: the two handed weaponry. As soon as his body could handle the pure weight of these immense types of weaponry he was moved away from the one handed sword to this. His training with one handed swords held true and he was able to develop his skills with it easier.

    With a two handed sword it allows him to use more of the brute strength his people are known for. He is able to hammer down on his opponent with the fury and strength that took down giants in far past. Savagery and strength are the key factors in this type of weaponry.
  • Daggers (Student) - In order to survive as a dishonored Aesir you must learn how to survive by your own hands. Most turn towards thievery and banditry; however, Adolf turned towards hunting for his main way of survival. In order to hunt he needed a small weapon that he would be able to kill his prey without using his large weaponry, that need lead him towards the ways of daggers.

    Mainly, he uses his baselard or long dagger as means to hunt and kill his prey. Yet, his experience in larger forms of weaponry one handed weaponry has caused him to become somewhat able to protect himself with it. In the most of dire circumstances he turns to his baslard to protect his life.
  • Light/Heavy Armor Training - During the glory days of his Kyn he was trained as every other noble warrior in the ways of heavy armor. Near the years before the fall of his Kyn he trained in the usage advantages, and disadvantages of heavy armor.

    Now a days with no true source of income he has turned mainly towards leather armor as means to protect himself. Poor and desperate leather became his main and only option. Now in battle he is seen clad in the studded leather armor.
Equipment
  • Claymore (Two handed sword, Copper) - It is not a blade that will be song in every mead hall throughout all of Norland. Its just a plain claymore produced from the common metal known as copper.
  • Buckler (Shield, Oak/Copper) - It has a diameter of two feet. Copper strips are bolted into the oak of the shield with four strips at all four quadrants of the buckler going connecting in the center at a round piece of copper. A four inch spike of copper protrudes from the center and can be used to stab someone with.
  • Spatha (One handed sword, Black Bronze 14%) - Its the most noticeable weapon out of his arsenal. The hilt of the blade is an eagle with the grip being the body of the eagle while the cross guard was the outstretched wings. At the chappe the eagle has its beak opened like its about to kill its prey. Its the one of the two items that has a connection to his past before him became an outlaw.
  • Dagger (Dagger, copper) - A foot and half long dagger that has multiple usages. Its main application is used as the killing blow for prey caught in the snares and other traps he sets out in the woods that he calls home. The secondary application is usage of it as a weapon. In the most dire of circumstances he turns to his last resort.
  • Full Studded Leather Set (Armor, Leather/Studded) - He managed to scavenge up throughout the years a full set of studded leather armor during his years in exile. Its the only protection he has from death.
  • Hawk Shaper Skin (Magic, Feathers/Talons) - When Vail, Adolf's magical tutor, he gave him the title of hedge; however, in order to be accepted as one Vail told him he had to make a shaper skin. Adolf accepted this challenge and instantly turned towards an eagle to make. Yet, an eagle was an elusive bird for him to find and kill so he settled for one of the hawks his family had to send messages. Later on, he found that in the wild it was difficult to not only find his prey, but track and kill them too. In order to fix this problem he created his first complete shaper skin, a hawk. Sewed into his left leather bracer is four hawk feathers with the talon in between the four feathers. This skin allows him to morph into a falcon.
  • Black Bear Shaper Skin (Magic, Pelt) - One of the many treks out into the forests for food he came upon an injured bear. It seem it was mortally gouged by the antlers of an elk. Finishing off the bear so it would not suffer anymore from its wounds, Adolf realized he could create a shaper skin from the deceased animal. Taking him almost two years he now has a large pelt of the animal sewed into the shoulder part of his leather breastplate, and then across the main body ending in the right corner of the armor. He managed to scramble up the regents that allowed the skin to morph him into a partial black bear form.
  • Varg Shaper Skin (Magic, Pelt) - Costing the lives of some of his men he managed to slay a varg. This shaper skin became his own personal project and he finally managed creating a shaper skin that allows the user to morph into a human/varg hybrid. Since he is still not completely experienced weaver there is a time limit on the transformation. It only lasts two hours. (Five posts).
  • Reflexes Weave (Magic, Design) - This weave on his right greave allows him to see the reactions of his opponent in a slower speed. This causes most to see him having lighting fast reflexes when in reality the actions of his opponent is actually at a slower speed.
THE BODY

A mountain among men is the first thought that crosses the mind of any man or woman who comes upon him. Holding true to his Jotunland bloodline he towers above most at nine feet two inches, even to those who share similar birth in the same hold. His shoulders as broad as an ox, and his body is sculpted with a well-toned, stout muscular build. His skin unlike most Jotunland Aesir has slight tan that originates from the Svartland blood inherited from his mother. His lithe, elongated fingers and hands, which are more tuned towards work of Craft and Runes than swords, are testaments to the mingling of Svartland blood.

Adolf is a rebel in nature since everything he held dear was stripped away from him by his own race, this has caused him to divert from Aesir norm in the way he maintains his hair. The once glorious mane that used to sit upon his brow was cut away for a cropped hairstyle that he mostly adorns except for the coldest of seasons. His beard is in a similar fashion being shaved once it grows any farther than stubble. A grim determination can be seen bathing in the steel gray of his eyes; however, speckled across that cold gray is a light green that shows the true warmth, friendliness that is his nature. Faint crow's feet are etched into his skin enforcing the kind nature that he is, who is quick to smile and praise.

His standing as dishonored can only be seen in way he is clothed. As a man who has had everything taken away from him he has only one set of clothing available to him. His undertunic is a patchwork of different dyed pieces of linen that were sewed into the original piece of clothing for means of repair. His overtunic is in worse shape as cotton is in lesser supply for a dishonored Aesir. Barely draping past his waist the overtunic is tattered shadow of its former glory. Its basically only used as a protection for the more valuable undertunic, which keeps him somewhat warm in the short days. His leggings are in better shape, there are few patches of linen across the black dyed wool of his tight trousers. The interior of the leg wear is lined with furs of varied pelts that he has killed during his hunts, the furs keep help insulate the heat in his body. The second item that he has survived with him since the fall of his Kyn is a two piece unique belt. The first part is a the usual simple belt that wraps around his waist, which has the bronzed head of a sleeping wolf as the buckle. Across the belt are bronze loops that are designated areas for him to place his different weaponry and other resources. The second piece is a leather strip that connects to the waist belt by a copper buckle. The strip wraps around his shoulder and connects back at the buckle. The length of leather on his back has two loops made of bronze spread out quite a distance. This baltic belt allows him to sheathe his claive on his back. Lastly, his boots are the best piece of clothing that he owns. The only wear can be seen on the soles and the tip of the boots. In order to quiet his steps the bottom of the boots are padded with small game furs to soften his steps. Adolf looks like a shadow of his former self when he was not titled dishonored.

When the day came when his Kyn lost their blood feud and he was branded a dishonored Aesir their was large battle his Kyn waged against the Jarl. At the age of eighteen he stood against the never ending waves of opponents with the other members of his Kyn. As the battle dragged on like every other member of his Kyn he fell under the force of the waves of opponents; yet, unlike the other souls of his Kyn he survived his wounds. Nightmares of the night still scar his skin as reminder of the battle that beckoned the fall of his Kyn. From the bottom of his right ear to his chin is a white scar that stretches across that expanse of his visage. Other scars are found across his torso; however, the blow that caused him to fall in battle is marked on his skin as a four inch wide and foot high scar along his left side.

Along with these nightmares that scar his skin is one good memory and that is the tattoos on his right shoulder and arm. On his shoulder is the head of an eagle with its eyes looking down on everything. On his right forearm are three black rings that represent the three attributes favored by his Kyn: Determination, Cunning, and Strength. These two tattos were place upon his skin before the destruction of his Kyn. He has one more tattoo on his left wrist representing his goal for his Kyn to regain not only its honor and placing, but to go farther than that. Its a tattoo of a crown, representing his goal to become the Kolding of the Aesir race.


THE MIND

Adolf is a man that holds determination, strength, and cunning to the highest standard. These idealistically views became birthed in him once he decided that he would hold true his Kyn's ambitious in becoming the Jarl of Jortunland, and then the Kolding of Norland. He became the living embodiment of what his Kyn stood for, in order to honor the decease of his Kyn and reach the goals that his family gave their lives for. Most that meet Adolf can see he is a man of ambition and cunning, but this facade he created around him in order for him to honor his Kyn has cracks in it for the briefest of moments. These cracks allow the individual to see the true kind, loving character that is Adolf, who only wants to turn the clock back and stop his Kyn from signing their own death sentence.

Few notice the true intelligence and cunning that are held behind those pair of steel gray orbs. Many Aesirs that hold the title of dishonored are from the lower classes of Aesir society and have never wielded the power of Craft or Rune themselves. The true cunning behind Adolf is the manipulation he has behind the simpler folks that face the same circumstances he does. Using his Craft he is able mesmerize the bumpkins, and earn their loyalty through the fear of the abilities he wields.

Like every other men he has weaknesses; however, unlike most who hide their weaknesses behind walls of deception and lies, he revels in his weakness. His goodhearted nature is what holds him back in the path of life that he has chosen to transverse down. Yes, he does attempt to dampen his goodhearted nature when the situation calls for it, but when he enjoys knowing that he still has a part of himself before the destruction of the Kyn of Soaring Eagles.

THE PAST

My story begins begins on a misty morning with the chill of the short days still felt in the deepest corners of Aesir's soul. I was born into this mystical, abstruse world that we all call home into the loving arms of Arvid Aronson and his beautiful wife Svana Hjörtusdottr. My father was of Heimdallingar blood, and my mother was of Forsetungar blood; their union was an unique one conceived through infatuation and ambition.

Much of my younger ages are mainly just blurs of arbitrary images that flutter aimlessly with no true meaning behind them. From my childhood I have two men who I remember with an unfaltering clarity. One of them was introduced to me by my father as the man who was going to introduce me into the world of Crafts and Runes, Vail Glenson. Old Vail was a short man for Aesir standards, barely six feet tall. His back was slightly arched, because of years spent bent over scripts with the flickering light of a candle as the only light. Old age seem to taken a toll on him unlike most, he seem fragile like the slightest touch could cause him problems; however, there was an aura of danger that this scholarly man seem to hold. Like he could end the world with only a few regents and splash of magic.

I remember my father whispering into my ear before he left me in Vail's tutelage. "In order for you to survive in the world I am trying to create for you my son you must study hard and master these mystical arts. These Crafts and Runes will allow you to thrive in a world full of danger. Remember my son, everything I do is for you, for your survival in a world I am creating for you." I took those words to heart. So when old Vail would come shuffling down from his chambers with a pile of grimy, yellowed pages etched with the symbols of the ancient tongue in fading black ink I would welcome the sight. Ole Vail was always wide-eyed when he saw me memorize lines of steps and recite ingredients flawlessly that were called for the different types of Crafts. Vail would always say that I should praise the Allmother that I had Forsetungar blood running through my veins, or I would be like every other Jortunland bumpkin who use brute force to answer all their problems.

There seem to be a glimmer of laughter in his green eyes when I decided to focus on Summoning and later on Weaving. Later on before he left my Kyn's estate, he was needed in another Holder estate to teach an Aesir child, when I turned seventeen he told me something, "You are just like your father my little wolf, always wanting to the result of your work playing out in a large, spectacular manner. Remember little wolf, sometimes the best results are done without anyone knowing what occurred, but you." Even today I thank my scholarly tutor, because the skills he taught me are one of the main reasons I have survived as a Dishonored Aesir.

The other man was Uther Stonewall. He was the man who taught me how to protect myself, he was the man who taught me in the ways of battle, he was the man who taught me what being a true Aesir man was. At the wee age of six the man seem like a monster to me, he was clothed in a full suit of bronze armor with a large bearded axe. I thought he was the monster that my nurse mother spoke of that cuts naughty boys into small pieces and then eats them up. Screaming I gripped the baggy velvet trousers of my father and plead with my father that I would behave and stop sneaking into the kitchen and steal loaves of bread. Uther heard me screaming and stomped over to me, he bent down onto one knee and took off the helmet. I was afraid I was going to be whole right there, but to my surprise I saw two kind brown eyes and wolfish grin that could cause the hardest Aesir warrior to crack a smile. Staring into those pools of warm chocolate brown a tingling warm sensation bubbled into existence in my stomach and from there spread across my entire being sending my fears away. I knew Uther was a man that I could trust with my life.

Uther Stonewall was a man renown for his military prowess. He was a competent military leader during the raid lead by Skaldir Skaldirson into the lands of Cels. During one of the battles he was mortally injured and sent back only a year later after the raid began. Once news of a blooded warrior was home from the raid in the Cels Holders sent for Uther to come and train their children in the way of the battle; however, he turned down offers even for Jarls as he decided to come and accept the invitation from a close friend of his, my father.

During the day I would be studying my Crafts with Vail, but from the afternoon to the evenings I was under the tutelage of Uther. First we worked with one-handed swords, he told me that if I could handle a sword that it would open up me to any other type of weaponry that beckoned to my call. This idea that a simple sword would be the key that unlocks the door to the mysterious world that is war pushed me to work through the pain and fatigue. As I pushed and trained until my hands started to bleed from the strain Uther watched down on me with those warm brown eyes, and cheered me on telling me not to falter. Telling me to push on little wolf. The only thing I could feel though was those brown eyes burning into my back pushing me more than any words could. I didn't want to fail him. I didn't want to fail in front of those brown eyes.

Most of life before the fall of my Kyn was spent this way training and studying. I wanted to prove to not only my tutors that I was not wasting their time or effort, but to my father also. I wanted my father to tell me that I am ready for the world he built for me. That world never came though.

A few months after my eighteenth year came I was brought into the private study of my father. In there were some of the senior retainers of the warriors that my father had hired in order to protect us from the blood feud that erupted between my Kyn and the Jarl of Jotunland. There had been with us two smaller Kyn who had sided with us in this manner, and now looking about I spotted their members as well. My father told me not to worry this was all part of the world he was building for me. In the room also was my mother, her raven black hair rolling all the way to her waist and those green beautiful eyes staring at me with so much love and affection. On her finger though a saw a ring that I never noticed before, a black oak made of black bronze sat upon it. The same symbol was stitched upon the crimson red dress of the woman standing next to her mother. Finally, Uther was standing to my side giving me that same wolfish grin that just makes me smile. It was here however, that i found that his smile held more then just his ambient and colorful humor.

My father turns and asks the lady in crimson, "Do I have the Black Oaks support in this feud? With your support my plan will succeed; I can win not only this blood feud, but the seat of the Jarl also. It is however to ask, if you're...members are ready." The lady smiles to my mother and pats her hand softly before answering my father,

"Like I mentioned earlier to your wife, you have the support of the Black Oaks in this affair; however, we cannot openly send support. We work in the shadows so if your forces fail in total concentration of the Jarl then that is it. You die with the rest of your Kyns." The way that woman smiled sent shivers down my spine, it was like a spider grinning at its meal that just wrapped itself up in her web. I sat in silence as I watched my father, but all his cards out to play he was going all in and hoping that was enough. It wasn't.

Two weeks later I was sitting upon the saddle of a stallion next to my father as we waiting upon the crest of hill looking down upon the force my father was able to build up. Wide-eyed I looked across the long expanse of men clothed in bronze and iron. It was like I was in the stories of old when great armies would clash against each other, blade against blade. Looking back, I was such a naive boy to think in that romantic grandeur.

In the dark of night we charged. Under the bronze wall of shields placed by the warriors Seidr users sent balls of flame against the wooden gate of the city. Behind the army I watched as first warriors with their armor glinting from the flames charged through the charred remains of the gate into the Jarl's city. Soon like when a damn breaks the warriors flooded into the city with Uther, my father, my mother, and myself following the main host of the army.

The battle was much a blur as I descended upon with my family into the brutal street fighting as it roared about, our numbers outnumbered to the defenders; but our real objective lain in wait beyond these blood soaked avenues. All I remember was that we were slowly gaining ground, pushing our walls past the walls and towards the keep. Early on my father left me in the care of Uther since he was needed somewhere else in the siege. My mother left with him. That would be the last time I saw the both of them. They died in the counter-attack that surged out from the keep, the Jarl of Jotunland at it's head with a bandaged arm and brazen fury.

The only vivid memory I have of the siege was the battle that Uther died in protecting me. We both thought we were safe from danger so far behind the front lines, but a warband of the defenders managed to get behind our forces and we ended up face to face with them. Many years under Uther's tutelage allowed me to stand my own against one enemy; however, I became too overwhelmed under the arms of many and eventually I fell. Unable to stand on my two legs and protect myself, Uther came to my rescue and protected me from the remaining members of the warband that had spread out, not realizing at first their potential prisoners. I was awestruck by the complete gracefulness Uther had in his axe work. Soon, he had taken the dozen with him, wounded or slain, but at a price I still think to this day far too much. He took many wounds protecting me from danger and once the adrenaline of the battle left he collapsed and succumbed to his wounds. Uther died protecting me. Little Wolf. And with this also, I blacked out.

Awaking once more, an elderly Leysing man saved me from certain death. As a slave he was taught how to bandage wounds and brew medicines, living in the slums of the Jotunland capital that still now within my feverish care was cleaning up what remained of my father's men. He brought me back from near death; however, during the long stay in his care I never learned his name. At dagger point he forced me to leave once he felt my wounds had healed enough. I owe that man my life.

I left the more civilized part of Jotunland for the great forests. I later heard from a thrall that was sent to gather firewood that the Jarl had named my Kyn dishonorable, treasonous folk. I was in turn labeled as dishonored, now thrown into the ranks of outlaws, thieves, and slavers. I took to what remained of my family's homestead in secret, stealing what I could of my research and supplies, what I could take without being seen by the men that now patrolled this lands.

Yet, now that I look back on it I feel that it was a blessing in disguise. My father and mother died for what they believed was the best for me their son so I took up their dream. I will become the embodiment of all those that have fallen for the dream to make me world that would be the best for me. From my mother I take her wit, from Uther I take his strength and determination, and from my father I take his ambition and make it my own.

In order for their dream to become reality I needed a army so I turned the most available source of warriors, my fellow dishonored folk. For the next several years I gathered them from all four holds and earned their trust through fear and manipulation. Most are just simple bumpkins from the thrall and leysing caste that were unwanted by the majority of the Aesir society; however, there was one that was more than just a simple bumpkin. As well it should be, a man that shares the similar the ambition that I have now called my own. Anders is his name, a user of Seidr like me.

Finally, as of late, a letter bearing that black oak has arrived as well in my camps, addressed to it's leader. I ponder now as well to respond to this, considering their past with my Kyn, and their own failure. With Anders as my right hand,

soon I plan the beginning of my revenge.


THE PLAYER
OOC Name: Eon
Other Characters: No
You 18 Years or Older? Yes!
(This post was last modified: 07-06-2013 01:21 PM by Adolf Arvidson.)
07-03-2013 06:13 PM
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Garnett Offline
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Occupation: Night Shift Worker

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Post: #2
RE: Adolf Arvidson
I have made some edits in the history and additions to the implications to what we discussed earlier. Most of this in detail to the Jarl and the demise via the fashion of the Oaks; as well also why you have the knowledge necessary for Adept level magics and can continue to grow further. Beyond that the history itself has nothing now that glares as something contradictory to the canon, my only word of warning is the shaper skins for yourself at Adept level would have a duration or partial cover, nothing substantially permanent from say damage or wards that disperse magic. So use that skill wisely!

All yours Zin!
(This post was last modified: 07-05-2013 10:34 PM by Garnett.)
07-05-2013 10:31 PM
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Zin Offline
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Post: #3
RE: Adolf Arvidson
APPROVED
Welcome to Altear, remember to claim your face.
07-06-2013 03:02 PM
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Summer has come to the High Kingdom as tensions grow among the Septs. The Ua Badb rise in rebellion along with the Ua Abhean and the Ua Ecne.

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