Ostara (The Rites of Spring)

[Ace Bronson]

 

OOC Scene DescriptionThis is an optional pregame opportunity to RP your potential characters here. None of the interactions that take place will exist in the game world once we start. It will be a clean slate. (unless there is a particular interaction that seems valuable and clearly makes sense for the context of the characters we might make an exception.)

The context will be a Vernal Equinox festival in Skoljyr (The seat of power for the Wolf Clan). It's from here the party will sail to Sjoldir where the adventure begins. So this will take place shortly before the ship departs. It's an outdoor festival with a mix of revelry and serious rites and sacrifices to usher in bounty for the coming growing season. I'll be mostly hands-off and let whoever wants to participate drive the interactions. Feel free to make some reasonable assumptions about the festival and setting in your posts if needed, just don't take too many liberties or do anything to significantly have an impact on the setting. Just use it as an opportunity to stretch your legs and get to know your character with a little light RP. participation is not required. I wont hold it against anyone that decides not to participate. It will give me a glimpse into people's plays styles which can be helpful for me.

 

 

In the heart of Skoljyr, the vibrant celebration of Ostara unfolds as the equinox heralds the rebirth of light and life. The grand mead hall is adorned with intricate garlands of fresh spring blossoms, intertwining with antlers and fur to honor both the fertile earth and the might of the Wolf Clan. Warriors and villagers gather beneath the great wooden beams, their laughter mingling with the soul-stirring melodies of skalds weaving tales of ancient heroes. A blazing hearth at the center casts a warm glow, symbolizing the return of the sun's strength. As the day progresses, the festivity gradually transforms into solemn ritual. Warriors don ceremonial cloaks woven with symbols of protection, and the seer, veiled in enigmatic garments, steps forward to guide the rites. A magnificent boar is presented as a sacrifice to the gods, its blood an offering to ensure the village's prosperity. At twilight, torches are lit, casting long, dancing shadows, while villagers gather around a sacred tree to tie colorful ribbons, invoking blessings for the coming season. Under the watchful gaze of the stars, the balance between light and darkness finds its resonance, as the people of Skoljyr honor their gods, their ancestors, and the cyclical tapestry of life itself.

Edited August 24, 2023 by Ace Bronson (see edit history)

[Starhawk]

Helti Enginsson, Ormrung Druid

Beautiful Eydis, my half-sister, she’s why I’m here. Tall, lithe, pale skinned, curly blonde hair in a maiden’s braid down to the small of her back, she’s getting a lot of looks. Not that she’s looking back. She knows the game too well for that, well a lot better than me anyway.

I keep my distance from her, while the young men circle, knowing her as I do, I know she doesn’t want to be guilty by association… with me.

If Jarl Magnus’ son and heir, back home on Ormsdalr, thinks he’s the only heir around, thinks his brand is on her, an adventure to be had before a political marriage. Well, this will make him think twice. Or at least that’s her reasoning.

Me? Well, I’m not getting looks, well not any looks I’d want to get. Short-ish, kinda weasily looking, spiky red hair, no beard, I’m pretty hard on the eyes. Still, I’m just here for the mead, maybe make some trading and raiding friends and just maybe a good time, not that I’m likely to have a good time. My story is well known, well beyond Ormsdalr. See, I’m the Bastard Druid of Dragon Island.

I sip my mead, pretty run of the mill stuff, nothing to write runes home about. When you’re a druid, you drink the good stuff, druid brewed, puts hair on your chest.

 

Edited August 25, 2023 by Starhawk (see edit history)

[whitelancer]

Aud was enjoying herself, being far from home this time. The firey haired woman smiled and joined in the rituals as much as she was allowed, Irpa having settled up into the rafters out of the wind but out of the way. The bird of prey only able to take so much attention before wanting privacy and taking a nap. Outside Aud would enjoy the chill air, nothing like her home at this time of year as the ground can be seen and walked on.

Waiting until seeing the other folk of the village do next Aud was stuck not knowing what to do yet. She was eager to get to the full celebration, the eating, the drinking, and maybe the romantic encounters if she was very very lucky. She adjusted her armor, the chain shirt under the layers of leather mostly hidden, her bow and axes with her pack stashed away without need for them currently.

[Starhawk]

Helti Enginsson, Ormrung Druid

I haggled somewhat over the price of some RolegorutMellowroot I had. I was known to be a purveyor of such things and word gets around quickly. Like a lot of what I had on offer the taste left a lot to be desired, but euphoria to be had from the orange paste made you feel like you were king of the world. It was a staple before battles, since you tended to fear nothing, the downside being you couldn't back away from a fight you were losing. It only lasted an hour. I was old enough not to feel the need for Rolegorut, since I was old enough not to be intimidated by beautiful women.. either she would lift you up or you'd have a hilarious story of her hammering you down.

This one, blonde bare chested and muscular, towered over me. I found myself essentially talking to his chest. He haggled somewhat too, too focused on a young dark haired nymph of a girl to concern himself overly with coin. I kept a straight face, young warriors take offence easily and things can quickly spiral out of hand. He crossed my hand with silver and set off on his 'raid'. I smiled softly to myself as another bare chested young man wandered up and enquired after some Letthunang, a sweet and wholesome blue syrup. I conjured there was a drinking competition in the offing, since Letthunang Soothe Syrup helps you keep it down. I pondered my supply. I had something for burns, since there was always fire jumping as well as something for major injuries and folk bleeding out, since there was always someone who got stabbed. I didn't need to sell such things.. their use has ever been cheaper than the payment of a weregild and Jarls have a habit of being grateful for blood feuds avoided.

[Xssisha]

"The Wolves stick together," my old pa used to say, "and dancing with their pack can be a dance to your doom."

 

Hjarlof Hornblower sat a distance from the largest bonfire with a his tankard, ink, pen and journal. He was exhausted from his trip here, bearing news and a letter from one merchant to another... dangerous but neccessary work. He smiled and hummed along with the revelry and chants. It was good to among other humans again. Two weeks in the wilds with only incidental human contact wears on the mind.

 

He sipped the hot and spiced concoction in his mug. There was a tall woman dancing the circle dance with more than a few potential suitors not-so-casually observing her. Hjarlof smiled. He had one he wanted to be with more than the moon chases the sun, but he had not yet earned that right from her father. He would. He was determined to join with her.

 

He made some notes on the clan presences, jotting down some elaborate descriptions of the event. He still held out hope that at one of these events he might spy his sister, either Ingrid and her husband, or even Natja the one lost at sea two years ago.

 

He smild at a young warrior woman standing off to the side, still wearing her full armor. Hjarlof had all his gear under the table, a courier went nowhere without his tack, but he was dressed in a simple clean white tunic and brown breaches. He motioned to her (Aud) to sit and have some of the spiced mead.

Edited August 29, 2023 by Xssisha
Picture change (see edit history)

[whitelancer]

While she was in armor, she didn't seem to feel it or look it, but the skald would also easily notice that she was among observing the dancing woman. At the motion it caught her attention and and she would move over, fetching a drink of her own. "Hail Friend, you must deeply enjoy writing to be doing it here."

[Xssisha]

Hjarl nodded at the comment. "Aye. I do a bit of dabbling here and there." He smiled and sipped from his drink. "Stock in trade I fear."

He looked out across the sea of dancing and worshipping kinsmen and smiled a smile that almost entirely failed to reach his eyes... "Truly a celebration worthy of note... and one in a clan I have only rarely visited the lands of. What of you, my hail and hearty warrior maiden? Your easy demeanor in that kit, and coming to an event such as this in full battle readiness speaks to a life of glory among your kin. What stories do you carry worthy of recounting?"

[whitelancer]

"More a telling on my.land making me so harsh as to feel more comfortable I'm this than in any dress dyed in the colors of warmth and spring, and should also say as to why such things are even more important to us, those for whom are often so close to nothing than bounty."

[Xssisha]

"You speak truly. Such necessities cast long shadows over many lives." Hjarlof tipped his mug slightly at her statement. "But, where are my manners?" He extended his right hand. "I am named Hjarlof Hornblower of Clan Hvítabiôrning."

[Starhawk]

Helti Enginsson, Ormrung Druid

He couldn't help but overhear the conversation between the blonde haired warrior, a future huscarl that one, and the man in the white tunic, another warrior judging by the gear under the table, who seemed too tired for the revels. Their words had turned sad and maudlin. Still, he was not one to judge, everyone had their ups and downs. Perhaps they're sad because they're not fighting. Pondering his options he waits for another toast. Then, one being in the offing, he approaches the man, he said his name was Hjarlof, looking to clash horns with him prior to drinking. Here's hoping the Letthunang keeps down what might want to come up. Clashing horns with the lady would come after, all things being well, since she was it seemed to him fully armed and armoured. Such was his way, the rituals were in place to permit all to participate, even him.

[whitelancer]

She takes the hand in a firm but not overly strong grasp to shake. "Aud, of clan Arining. Aren't we both a long way from home, but might be more expected of me. What brings you to these places?"

[Xssisha]

Harlof notes the approach of another even as Aud introduces herself. "Ah. An Eagle has flown far from her Eire indeed." It was said with a kindly smile, as one who understands the weight of travels. The newcomer to the stone table raises his drinking horn as a loud toast is proclaimed. "AYE!" He raises his mug and meets the drinking horn half way. Hjarlof takes a swig of the now frothy spiced drink.

"Have a seat, my man. We were discussing home and tales of it." He gestures to the newcomer. "I am a courier by trade and a Skald by choice. I arrived but yesterday and my legs have yet to fully recover. What of the two of you? What brings you to the spring festival here?"

Hjarlof looked around to see where his traveling companion Goran had got too. The man was also of his clan, and a reliable guard for hire... And also had an ear for music which Hjarlof appreciated.

Edited August 28, 2023 by Xssisha
Adding character linking opportunity for Goran (see edit history)

[Svartalf]

A boisterous and loud voice cut through the noise of the conversation. Hey, cuz, will you introduce me to your friends and let me in on the fun?

 

It was a tall and heavily muscled redhead with an obvious family resemblance to Aud who was decidedly approaching the group, a wide smile on her face and a big horn brimming with mead in one hand.

[Eborne1]

Somewhere in the cold twilight, beyond the gates of the lively tavern hall and the surrounding longhouses; beyond the surrounding expanse of smooth white snowscape that still clung to the land after a long winter and now rippled beneath waves or aurora light above, there sat a large, white dire-bear, pulling bright-red flesh from the side of a plump Northern Halibut.

Several things had been nagging at the dire bear's acute senses for over an hour now, and until that very moment, he'd successfully ignored them.

"Roast boar...", thought Goran suddenly, picking up the sweet scent that traveled on the breeze, even as he chewed on a sizeable chunk of raw Halibut. He really liked roast boar, but now tried not to think about it, pulling another chunk of red meat from the fish with practiced skill, swallowing it without so much as a single chew from his sizeable jaws.

"There'll be music..." thought Goran. Just then his ears perked up at the sound of faint distant drumming. He shook away another thought and pulled another slab of meat from the fish.

"They might even have a lyrist," he thought a few moments later.

Goran knew what day it was. He knew what was going on down in the village. He could smell the travelers coming in for a week now. He'd come after receiving message from Hjarlof. He liked the Spring Festivals, if truth be told, despite all the hollering and drunken fools, of course. But he was feeling especially stubborn just then and didn't want to give in to his human will to join in the camaraderie. "Hjarlof sent word for help," he recalled, and yet even then nearly doubled down on his stubbornness, but reluctantly acknowledge his fondness for the Skald. "He'd help me, if I asked," Goran imagined, though struggled to think of a situation in which he'd ask for help. "He sings like a bear..." he admitted, which was as far as he would go to admit that he liked the man.

Just then, Goran's eyes went wide and he let out a deep growling moan of frustration as his body suddenly bent and shifted and melted away, involuntarily, into the form of a large human man with a shaggy white beard and long hair. Exasperated, Goran sighed, even though he knew the time was coming. The half-eaten fish before him, ceased to look so appealing.

"They'll have honeymead", he thought and then let out a deep sigh of resignation. "Fine," the large man said, with the gruffness of a seldom-used human voice, as though he addressed the gods' own cruel devices.

The large man stood and stretched his back and neck. He took in the quiet of the wood one more time before gathering up a half-buried pack, tossing it over one shoulder along with a stout club and a handful of short spears, and slowly made his way out through the dark trees to the snowy, glowing expanse beyond, whence he made his way toward the sound and smell of the thrumming festival in the distance.

Edited August 29, 2023 by Eborne1 (see edit history)

[Eborne1]

Goran Halfbjorn  _{Dire-Bear Berserker}

---

Goran entered the village square cowled and solemn, yet, even so, people took notice. He was an unmistakably large man and moved with the lumbering gait of a certain predator. He also did little to conceal the telltale runic scars that marked him as one of those notorious berserker warriors, whether formerly or still.

It was common for warriors of every rank and file to feel the need to size him up, and at this gathering, there were more than the average count of warriors, many of whom were formidable or at least courageous in their own right. Goran avoided eye contact whereever he could. He did not wish to tempt anyone's foolish will to prove themselves this night.

He followed his nose to the main hall and pulled open one heavy wooden door to let himself in. His senses were overcome with the aroma of roasting meat that dripped fat into the smoky bonfire. Festive music from a half dozen instruments jumped from wall to wall and billowed out through the rafters. The coordinated stomping of dancing feet and several pounding fists on thick wooden tables thrummed and the general uproar from the spirited patrons of the hall was thick. Goran caught the gazes of several patrons. Some were subtle looks while others were not so subtle. He imagined a few would recognize his nature. Regardless, he didn't think it would cause him any problems. Few fools willingly sought trouble from shifters and such troublemakers would be frowned upon by both gods and men this night.

One of the gazes he caught was that of the Herald Hjarlof, one of his own clansmen and whose summons to come to the Ostara Festival he now answered. He acknowledged the man and nodded to him, making sure Hjarlof knew that he'd come and that he'd seen him. Then Goran took an open seat at a banquet table in one back corner of the hall and it wasn't long before a large metal plate, spilling over with meat, buttered bread, potatoes, and roast carrots was set before him, beside a deep mug, brimming with sweet honeymead, which made his mouth water to see. He immediately took down half the mug, which lined his beard and mustache with frothy foam before setting into the boar meat.

He was careful to remember to use a fork and knife to avoid inviting more attention.

---

Stats

Goran CN Human (Shifter 4)

Init 3  Speed 30  HP 36/36
AC 20  Touch 16  Flat-footed 17 CMD 23
Fort (7)  Ref (8)  Will (4)
Base Attack Bonus (4)
Primary Weapon: Shifter Claws (2) (at will) +9(1d4+4) - DR Silver/Cold Iron
Armor: Lamellar Leather - Light Armor - (+4AC) (+3Dex)
Abilities:  Str 18, Dex 16, Con 14, Int 10, Wis 14, Cha 8
Conditions: None
Special Abilities

Shifter Aspect (Bear) (+2 CON) (7/7 min/day)
Wild Shape (Dire Bear) (7/7 hours/day)

BEAR FORM

Dire Bear  (Large)  Speed: 40ft

AC 21  Touch 17  Flat-footed 18 CMD 25(27 vs PM)
Fort: 7 Ref: 7 Will: 4

CMB +11 (+13 Powerful Maneuvers)

STR 22 DEX 14 CON 14 INT 10 WIS 14 CON 8

Primary Attacks: Claws(2) +9(2d4+4)+Grab

Bite +9(2d6+4)+Grab

Armor: Natural Armor +4 / Shifter Defensive Tactics +4

Special Qualities:

Grab (Claws and Bite), Pounce, Low Light Vision, Scent: (30ft)

Combat Actions

Free:

Swift:

Move:

Standard:

Full Round:

Edited August 29, 2023 by Eborne1 (see edit history)