Skeli Redbeard's story

From: Bernuetz.Oliver_at_cbsc.ic.gc.ca
Date: Fri, 15 Sep 2000 17:06:00 -0400


This is the background story for one of the NPCs in my upcoming HW campaign. I thought it might be interesting enough for the digest as well.

Skorri Helgisson and the rest of the warriors arrived at the stead too late to
stop the broo raid. Everyone was already dead and the broos fled except for one woman who wouldn't stop crawling and mewling and a tiny figure that moved spasmodically in the corner. The healers rushed to both of the survivors. The one who picked up the tiny figure gasped at what she saw and dropped the babe. One of the warriors caught it and almost dropped it again as he recoiled when he saw what the broos had done. Instead he cradled the babe to his chest and wept openly and unashamedly. Skorri turned to the healers examining the woman and asked, "Well?" The senior of the healers turned to him and shook her head sadly. Skorri moved forward and used his sword to do what he had to do. "Only one survivor," he said through his tears as he cleaned his sword.

An older Skorri sat in the sun and spoke with the chief Lawspeaker. "So how

are the students doing?" "The best of them of course is young Skeli but I worry
about what sort of man he will be. He hates anything that is not custom or law
and the others, indeed the whole stead shuns him for his scars. His hate and
our fear is a heavy burden for one so young and I fear that he might not grow
as straight as he could were his face whole. I also do not know what sort of
lawspeaker he will make with that tortured whisp of a voice of his.

Skeli, the man, stood before the moot to defend his client and tried to make

himself heard above the raucous crowd but to no avail. His face grew red with a mixture of anger and embarassment, adding to the ugliness of his face.
Suddenly inside him he heard a voice saying, "If you are going to serve me you will need to be heard. I make a loan to you of my mighty voice. Use it

well." Almost overcome with dizziness he reached out to his neighbour to steady himself. Before he grabbed her though he managed to right himself. His chest swelled and he felt the god fill him. "Listen to me," he roared and
all present fell silent in shock and amazement.

An older Skeli stroked the rich, red beard covering his chest (and most of the
scars on his face) and thought fondly about tillage rights. Idily, part of his
mind rejoiced at the thought of his recent success in the gaining a beard hero quest and he thought, finally life IS good.

Have a nice weekend,

Oliver D. Bernuetz
www.geocities.com/bernuetz


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