Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-17114085-20190126220742/@comment-17114085-20190504233017

Chief Bakel in his adulthood was about the same size as Grulmog. He is over a head taller than his younger sister.

Bakel's cleaver swung over Lamush's head after she ducked. When she swung at his legs with her axe he let his heavy armor defend him. The Orichalcum plate withstood the axe and didn't buckle against her.

The Chief continued his attack and swung down at Lamush after his missed horizontal swing. He tried to hack her in between her neck and shoulder with his cleaver.

The Stormhawks could see that the ones holding the torches were humans. They didn't recognize any of them, but they seemed to be wearing Companion style armor and colors.

The Companions moved into the outpost room. The torches they were holding revealing the contents of the previously dark room.

The Stormhawks were hiding behind the crates and that was only a good hiding place while it was dark. When the light shinned on them, Kal could notice them not exactly fitting behind their hiding spots.

Skorm was walking through the Vindhelm markets. On his shoulders was his middle child, his daughter Mette. He was holding the hand of his eldest child, his son Áfastr. His youngest was still to be born, as his wife was only 6 months pregnant at this point.

The streets were filled with citizens enjoying the funeral feast that Harald had prepared. For the regular citizen, there was mead, ale, fruits, vegetables, cheese, roated meat and stew to ate at their pleasure. The taverns were tasked with preparing and giving out the meals.

Skalds were playing instruments in the streets, telling tales of Jarl Sigurd and his ancestors. Near the taverns and in the parks there was dancing, games of skill and gambling. At the Vindhelm Pit there was wrestling, ball games and fights at any given time.

"Papa, let's go see the skalds playing." Mette said, pointing at a man standing in front of a crowd playing a song on his lute and singing a ballad.

"No! I want to see the fighting! They said there was a bear wrestling today in the pit!" Áfastr pleaded. He was 6 years old, while his younger sister was only 4.

"I don't like fighting. I want to hear the music! Mother would've let me hear the music. Please papa! Please!" Mette begged.

"We'll see both. The bear wrestling isn't till afternoon. Let's see the skalds first then go to the pit." Skorm tried to reason with the two kids.

"I want to hear music. Music is stupid." Áfastr whined.

"We'll ask the Skald to play the song of great heroes. How about that? Don't you want to head about Jarl Rikard the Fearless, defending the walls from a thousand elves?" Skorm told his son. "Or about Jarl Vilrekr Longsword's last battle? Where he defended his son till his dying breath after Hróðvaldr was maimed."

"Fine..." Áfastr sighed.

With a satisfied smile Skorm led his kids towards the skald to request the song.

--

Kane watched from a distance, drinking some ale and watching the Atmoran enjoy the day with his children. He was envious of Skorm. He wanted nothing more than to have a happy family just like him. ''I'll make it happen. I will.''