Landsoftheblacksea:Main Page/players/esker manyblades
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Description To Be Added
"Hunger drives the wolf out of the wood." Huskul proverb
My ma, in the days before my brother took her tongue, told me I was born during a raging storm the likes of which they had never seen before. In my little village, amongst the clan of the wolf, lightning split the night's sky and thunder growled it's response. And neath it all in a tattered rain-battered tent my mother screamed in pain, for I was a big pup even then, and those screams bore me into my stormy homeland. A storm I've followed near all my life and many a man's screams, both friend and foe, have echoed those of my ma's during that journey.
Some men are born to wear crowns and to bow to the gods and supposedly better men, but I am not one of those men. My path is the way of battle and the helm is the only crown I will ever wear.
I soon found my calling as a young man in that small village when the Jarl came looking for men to join his raids. My father gave me his blade, for his raiding days were long past. He had taught me that a sword is different from other weapons. He said, axes and maces and such are lethal enough, but they hang on the belt like dumb brutes. But a sword...a sword has a voice. Sheathed it has little to say, but you only need put your hand on the hilt and it begins to whisper in your enemy's ear. A gentle word, a word of caution. Now a half drawn sword, it hisses a dire threat and makes a deadly promise. The enemy must answer that threat or try to hush it with calls for calm. But a sword fully drawn. That sword shouts, it screams defiance and bellows a challenge. And that challenge must be met. So that is how I came to prefer a blade to other weapons and how my friends, and some enemies, came to name me Manyblades. One can never have too many blades.
In any case, I made the decision to reave with the young Jarl, for he was as starved for fame and fortune as much as I. My father said his farewell, my ma kissed me goodbye, my sister Gundren wept and my sister Sigrun merely shook her head and walked away. I don't know where my brother was, but I doubt he cared whether I was there or not. And so I left with dreams of gems, gold and glory. I found all three in short supply.
What I found was battle and the truth of many things. I've fought in seven pitched battles in countless raids and skirmishes and bloody actions of every kind. I've fought in the driving snow, the blasting wind, the middle of the night. I’ve been fighting all my life, one enemy or another, one friend or another. I’ve known little else. I’ve seen men killed for a word, for a look, for nothing at all. There are few men with more blood on their hands than me. None, that I know of. Manyblades they call me, my enemies, and there’s a lot of ’em. Always more enemies, and fewer friends. Blood gets you nothing but more blood. It follows me now, always, like my shadow, and like my shadow I can never be free of it. I should never be free of it. I’ve earned it. I’ve deserved it. I’ve sought it out. Such is my punishment.
And now it is here in the south I have come, far from my home and friends and yes my enemies. If you want to be a new man you have to go to new places and find new people who never knew the man of your past. Perhaps the gems, gold and glory are to be found here. At the very least I will find adventure or death. My path has always found death it seems. But such is the life of a mercenary. The more you learn, the more you learn how little you know. But one thing I have learned is get what you can with words, because words are free, but the words of an armed man ring that much sweeter.