LatzMomo

Eirik places a hand on the shoulder of his son Sven, he watched down below from the All Father's halls with a kind smile.

Robin couched his lance as he charged forth with his mounted NORLANDIC brothers and his King, the Elf screamed out in unison "IRON FROM ICE!" and brought the lance to directly smash into one of the archers in the flank of the Svarlandic formation which killed the ranger instantly with a crunching noise, his lance splintered into two pieces. The Volarynesian Elf dropped his lance and lifted his daemonsteel blade overhead, causing carnage upon the Svarlandic formations, harassing them with his horse, by the end of the battle, he'd killed eight of them personally, five of which were rival mounted combatants. After the carnage, he was tempted to give chase, but he was exhausted and drenched in sweat and blood and his allies were injured, he began using his horse which had miraculously survived the entire battle to transport the wounded to the makeshift clinic, staying behind to make sure his allies survived their wounds, nodding off as the Snow Elven medics worked to revive and repair his Norlandic brothers. Finally, Robin took his trophies from his kills and rode home in his filth where he took a nice hot bath for his aching, sore bones, having to replace the water once or thrice until the water no longer turned crimson.

Alexandros Mareno hurriedly prepares for the auction, helping his family to move crates of items, afterwards, he'd wipe the sweat from his forehead, then run a hand through his absurdly perfect hair, which somehow, made it even more perfect then before. "Hopefully my family becomes even more rich!" said the lad, smiling the sun's smile as he took a raffle ticket for himself. IGN: De_no RP NAME: Alexandros Mareno

A much needed rewrite! Thanks Elrith, very cool!

Actually love this concept, feel like personally selling magic items is a better experience for both parties

Vasili of Lakia wipes his sword clean of blood and muck using a brown bandanna as he reads the missive. "I am niet being able to reading." said the Norlandic man before taking down the poster and heading for the outhouse.

Robin reaches what is called a table jumper's high, a state in which fatigue does not affect one's endurance. Finally, he stands, and walks into the tavern, downing the strongest drink in all the land, Ashwood moonshine.

Robin begins training on the meat in his freezer, using them as a punching bag. "Those minas are mine!" he said as he trained smashing his fists into the 'temple and kidney' of the hanging meat.

Robin sends word, letting Viktor know of his plans to attend the Hearth Forum. "Glad ta see things kicking back up again."

Robin watches life return to his city, a sigh of relief as the strangulation of Varhelm ceases. "Well, we've got things to do people! back to work!"

Ram hears the news of the missing Uruk "Diz ztout am nub'hozh kuhnt, flat'n Uruk whu am returning znaga." he spits a loogy on the floor, planning on how exactly he would shave the Dwarf, and what he planed to do with the beard. The ancient Uruk grinding his sword until it was razor sharp.

Robin takes a gander at the paper whilst his feet are kicked up, flipping through the pages idly, not saying a word as he read the paper. "Well, I seemed to fly under the radar again." he said as he read the last few words. "That's a good sign."

Robin, noticing the clear frustration of his northern brother, offers a pat on the shoulder and a solemn "There there, no need to take out your anger on Norbland, I am sure things with you will turn for the better soon."

Do you do digital art as well? I may want to see about ordering a few things like skins, portraits, and tapestries and I am always happy to help out a member of the community.

"Glad it's in writing." says an Elf

Take it easy out there, took me a while to organize some things in my life before I felt I was in a better place, and leaving LoTC really helped me with that.

Robin reads the post with his boots kicked up on one of the corners of his table, mumbling as he reads over the Skanarri section. "Nothing about a brave Elf saving a mother and her child.. Well, I suppose it's for the best I maintain a low profile." He idly flipped through the rest of the pages of the paper as he ate his breakfast.

Robin admires the work that was done for him on the blade he bought for his son, he tested the balance and his gaze ran along the intricate metal work, it was one of, if not the highest quality blade he had ever bought. "This will serve my son well." he said.

[!] A letter is delivered by Osprey, the creature dropping the sealed letter from the clutches of it’s talons at the feet of any Volaren that would receive it’s message. Dear, ____ Volaren, Our clan has been fragmented for centuries, and an alarming thought has crossed my mind, that I have many ancestors that I may not know to even exist. I am the first Elf to take the name Volaren, and among the oldest Elf of our house, and so it felt appropriate that I am the one to summon the Volaren. We are to meet in Varhelm, as Norland is our ancestral home, and I own a tavern there, which will provide free drinks to all that attend. There are, additionally, possible business opportunities to discuss and an issue I do not feel rightful solving without the involvement of other Housemen. We are to meet at (THURSDAY 7/22 7PM EST ASHWOOD TAVERN IN VARHELM) Sincerely, Robin Volaren.

Robin Volaren squints. "One of my kin I'SNT a brigand?" he says in utter disbelief, incredibly proud.