AAR: Aelir

Thanks in part to Monnikje and his peerless Me, Floris, a infatuation with the game, and a drying up of the creative juices, I'm giving this a go.

I'm writing as I go, so I apologise for any delays or waits.

My starting choices should become evident once I get going.

"Home. That was how it started. A man in the tavern in sargoth, asked me where I was from, and I couldn't answer him, well OK I could, a village east of Uxkhal, but that didn't provide me with any feeling.

Please my love, I'm getting there. I said it would be a long story.

My father was a warrior, a guard in some lords retinue, I forget which. I've still got his shield in the chest over there. It was only after he died that I moved into Uxkhal, and took up life as a smiths apprentice. I was 15 I think. By my 18th, I was getting good at blades, and It was only a matter of time, and money, before I opened my own shop. Somehow, I attracted the eye of Lord Delinard, the liege lord of the city, who commissioned a blade from me. It was, my best work, finest steel, hours of work, three attempts, but my masterpiece, light as a feather, and wonderfully balanced at the Tang Life was, pretty good. It was only as a merchant came about looking to buy me shop, well when I say buy, the khergit fellow he was with made it plainly obvious he was out for a, bargain. A scuffle broke out, the khergit man got a little run through, his own fault mind, he went for his weapon first.

Anyway, Delinard remembered me, and by way of mercy, declared me exile, with a weeks grace to sort my effects out.

It was more than fair my love, please don't argue otherwise, he could have had my head.

I took some tools, and a good blade, bought a horse and travelled north.
Because my love, I couldn't go south, I had lived through Rhodok raids, and I couldn't bring myself to live there, and the Desert-lands and the Khanate, are just to different. The Nords however, I had heard that they accepted a man based on his skill, and given as I could handle myself, I was hopefull. Maybe a lord would accept me into his retinue, maybe one day I might be a Hurscal, a warrior, like my father.

Come, My love, It's getting late. Lets find Cook, see if he has anything special.

So awesome story, so good keep it up..

An attempt at the stats screen-shot that should have gone in the first post

So where was I? Sargoth. The morning after I met the man in the tavern, I was ambushed by a particularly villainous lowlife, who would happily have cut my throat for a denar, unfortunately for him, my training with a blade, and my fathers trusty shield, was more than a match for blind enthusiasm. A merchant, who seemed impressed by my soldierly appearance, took me into his home and explained Sargoths problem. The King is a busy man, too busy with affairs of state to attend to looters and bandits, and the people were in need of a man to solve the problem. I knew there to be more to the issue, so I probed further and found out that bandits had taken the merchants brother. That sorted it for me, the man looked so vulnerable. He suggested I travel the villages drumming up support for, his own words, a little campaign. This I did, I stood in the villages around Sargoth, and gave a very unimpressive little speach about freedoms, and the honor of standing up to the plague of Humanity. It must of work on some people, as seven men came forward, and I hired them on the spot.

The return to Sargoth was marred with one event, a battle. Well hardly a brawl really, 8 of us vs 9 looters, we won convincingly, and afterwards two of the men admitted they were handy with bows, so I provided the funds, and they marched into Sargoth behind me as victorious archers.
   
  My men prepare for battle

We spent very little time in Sargoth, before moving out, though we were lucky to find our prey almost immediately. The short fight was over in moments, and one of the brutal scum squealed like a pig on his comrades. We weren't that far away, though the light was fading, so we attacked without delay, right down a ravine. The Bandits had it right though, almost invisible from outside, they had hidden in a small cove, with a sandy beach, a perfect landing place. Once again, it didn't take long, once we were down on the beach, and I started to feel very confident about the glorious warrior predictions. Even after we rescued the merchants brother, and returned him safe and sound, the merchant still felt I was right for another job, this time driving out Corruption. Warrior be damned, I was becoming a knight!

All I had to do was lead some of the merchants followers into a street fight, and hope to capture the guard captain, a scoundrel of a man, who was betraying his king by allowing the kidnappers, bandits and looters free reign, he had to be stopped, and I was just the man to stop him!

Looking back, I realise if the guards hadn't stepped in, we could well have lost the day, but another glorious victory for good over evil.
 

That was also the day I met Rolf, of house Rolf, of somewhere?, you know Rolf,  Don't you my love, The large warrior fellow that visits Daddy occassionally, a good man Rolf, a stalwart friend. A hard man, aloof at times, but someone to rely on. 

Nice background and looking forward to the story developing. Also I couldn't help but notice the amount of commas you use. Sorry but it's a little distracting and sometimes stops the sentence from flowing! Keep it up!

Gordominus, No need to apologise, critisisms are welcome, I won't Improve otherwise. I was using them as breaks to convey the pattern of speech, but I'll keep an eye on them from now on.

Since starting, my computer has had a massive internal cluster**** as I tried to install a new wireless adapter, and my save game file went missing. I'll work around it, as I've installed the Floris mod pack, which is just awesome, so I'll be continuing with Aelir who has a new hair colour, and a banner.

Chapter 3

The men who joined me on the bandit hunt left me after that, I had only promised them vengence, and they had that now. For a while I was at a loss of what to do, the nord people were welcoming, a comfort given the distance to home. It was only once the news of our desperate fight in the city filtered through to the people that it became clear that the king himself had looked upon our actions as slightly heroic, and being a hero is big buisness to the average nord. Using this new found fame I bartered an audience up at the castle. King Ragnar himself came out to see me, and the entire afternoon flew past in an easy, ale fueled manner. Ragnar himself respected my stand against his former captain, and offered me a choice. To become a kings-man. Of course I accepted and was outfitted as a recuit into the Kings personl army. Neadless to say I stuck with my own sword and shield, but the weekly wage and chance of plunder was a real bonus, finally I could become a warrior in the service of a good king.

Barely a week did I spend with the army. No my love, King Ragnar marched on the Veigirs, and brought one of the boyars to battle just outside Mechin. We would have walked it, If another two Boyars and their retinues hadn't been waiting in reserve. We fought braver than anyone could have predicted, outnumbered over two to one. My first full battle, and all I can remember is being cut off from the rest of the army, killing anyone who came near, until the Veigir horsemen rode us down. A large axe caught the top of my head, and oddly didn't kill me, but I would fight no more. The Veigir surgeon took my hair off, to repair the wound, but that was the only kindness they showed me, pulled about, chained in a line of captives and dragged by the horsemen towards their capitol.

Yes, of course I escaped, with most of my things as well. I rode hard towards Sargoth, fleeing from the Veigir bands and searaiders alike. My hair grew back, not brown, but much lighter, almost golden blonde. The battle at Mechin caused a change in me my love. I didn't want to follow, to be sheparded about like cattle. So as I returned, and my beard and hair grew, I stopped in the villages and raised a new banner, a white horse on black. Men came and I spoke, promising pay, food and good fighting, all a good nord needs. By my return to Sargoth, I had eight men sworn to my service, come thick or thin.