Grenhart: Difference between revisions
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After some discussion with Snare about the "die" part, Grenhart joined and the crazy lady accepted him into the guild. |
After some discussion with Snare about the "die" part, Grenhart joined and the crazy lady accepted him into the guild. |
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For the record Snare wasn't kidding. |
For the record Snare wasn't kidding about the "die" part. |
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A solitary creature by nature Grenhart stayed mainly in the wilds. During the Gorbesh War his good friend Darkskye D'leave introduced him to a war band called the Apostles. There he met Rock Loyalheart and Candidus, two of the finest Tinmen that have ever walked these realms. He fought in the war with the Apostles not really knowing that the war band would eventually become an order of the realms. |
A solitary creature by nature Grenhart stayed mainly in the wilds. During the Gorbesh War his good friend Darkskye D'leave introduced him to a war band called the Apostles. There he met Rock Loyalheart and Candidus, two of the finest Tinmen that have ever walked these realms. He fought in the war with the Apostles not really knowing that the war band would eventually become an order of the realms. |
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Or something. |
Or something. |
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A Ranger rides a horse into Yuc Cugis. He is exhausted and dehydrated, his horse is worse. An ancient elf runs up to him hands him a gourd of water and asks "shon shoncim?" The Ranger removes his scarf and downs the gourd's contents as he smiles at the old man. |
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The elf blinks at the Ranger and looks down. “Tritu? Really old friend?” the Ranger asks. “I am not worthy of that, not anymore.”, he says with a sigh. |
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The elf looks up at the Ranger, bright blue eyes peering out from heavy epicanthic folds as his face breaks out into a wide grin of glaring white teeth set in a mahogany face. “I remember you "Sanfala” the ancient elf replies. The Ranger gathers the elf up in great bear hug. “Aye chaga! You will break these old bones!” the elf exclaims. The Ranger gently sets the elf down. “I remember you being bigger” the Ranger says. “And I remember you being smaller!” the elf laughs. The Ranger kneels before the ancient elf, “I honor you Zaldi Halipa” the Ranger says solemnly. “You left.” The elf says solemnly. A small drop of water drops in front of the Ranger. “I had to” the Ranger whispers. The Ranger glances up to see a trail of moisture on the weathered cheek of the ancient elf. “You honor me too much Zaldi Halipa” the Ranger states as he reaches out and gathers up the small drop of wet sand. He quickly drops the sand in his thigh pouch as he dances to his feet like a large, graceful cat. |
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“Where is he?” the Ranger asks. The old elf turns away and points to a small yeehar yurt situated in the middle of the village. “What did you expect here?, the old elf asks. The Ranger sighs “Nothing probably. Some closure maybe?”. The Ranger reaches out to touch the old elf’s shoulder and mutters “If nothing else it was worth the trip to see a zaharen jora.” The Ranger turns from the old elf and pads quietly towards the Yeehar yurt. “See to the zaldi would you?” the Ranger asks. “Of course Alaca.” The old elf replies. “It is a fine animal chaga” the old elf states as he gently approaches the Rangers tired mount. “Yes, of course it is Zaldi Halipa. I never forgot your lessons.” the Ranger sighs as he walks quietly towards the yurt. |
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A dozen yards from the yurt the Ranger gathers himself and moves as quietly as a whisper of wind on the sand as he approaches the yurt. The Ranger silently kneels before the entrance to the yurt and touches the flap as lightly as a moth’s wings brushing against it. “Shomcim” says a voice inside. |
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“I suspect you know” the Ranger whispers quietly. “Hawa” is the reply from within. “Ahalman shu chaga eicetu?” asks the Ranger quietly. “Eicetu” comes the reply from inside. The Ranger slips silently into the yurt and kneels before the Elf there. Keeping his eyes to the ground the Ranger remembers the last time he was in this yurt. Mapping out the small desk the other Elf was sitting at, the yeehar hide bedroll in the back and the small camp stove for cooking and making tea in the center of the yurt. The Ranger hears the creaking of leather and sees the Elf leaning back in his camp chair in his mind’s eye and knows the other Elf is taking in his scent, every detail of his armor, his weapons, and making note of any possible weaknesses. The Ranger inhales slowly taking in the scents of leather, oil and smoke and waits for the question he knows will come. “Irinen yer tonen faut inha” the Elf states. “Shu chaga ezaman” the Ranger whispers. “Song uchin eicteu” asks the other Elf. “There is war again”, the Ranger states. “Gorma” states the other Elf flatly. “Aron borroc” states the Ranger. “Aron”? asks the Elf. |
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“My friends” the Ranger states. The Ranger hears the creaking of leather again as the Elf shifts in his seat. “Stand” the Elf states’. The Ranger dances to his feet like a large, graceful cat. He keeps his eyes on the older Elf sitting at the desk taking in everything that he had seen in his mind’s eye earlier. The Elf looks much as he remembered him, and the furnishings of the yurt have not changed over the years. The Elf has a few more streaks of grey in his long black hair than the Ranger remembers. |
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“War is in your nature Gren” the Elf states. “Why have you come, really?” the Elf asks. “I have been asked to join a family” says the Ranger as he lowers his eyes. The Elf drums his fingers on the desk as he watches the Ranger carefully. Concern creases the Elf’s face as he looks down at the desk. “Grenhart, you remember what happened the last time?” the Elf mutters. |
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“Yes, I remember” the Ranger grumbles. “We won the war and lost it at the same time, and all of my adopted family was lost in the war or left the realms soon after”. “I know” sighs the Ranger. |
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“And you would do this again?” asks the Elf. The Ranger straightens looks the Elf in his bright blue eyes and answers “I would, I would do it all again” the Ranger states. “What is life if not an adventure of battles won and lost, and loves won and lost?” asks the Ranger as he bows his head. |
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“Very well” sighs the Elf, “As long as you know what you are doing”. “You are no longer chaga Gren”, says the Elf. “I know” the Ranger says. “Then why come here to ask this?” the Elf asks. “Because the sand runs in my veins, and because this is my home, or was.” the Ranger says glancing around the yurt. “This is always your home Grenhart, and we are always your family” the Elf says. |
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The Ranger bows to the Elf, “Thank you Alaca” the Ranger says solemnly. The Elf nods slightly and touches the scar across his cheek and asks the Ranger “Do you remember what this means?” The Ranger bows and responds “Always my brother.” as he turns and slips out of the yurt for the long ride back to his friends. |
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The Ranger returned to where he left his horse. The golden animal had been curried and watered from the clear water from the well in the center of the village, the star on her forehead gleamed again. The Ranger takes his time in checking the mounts hoofs for stones or any injuries from the ride through the desert. The old Elf was no where to be seen. The Ranger saddled the horse and prepared to make the long trip back across the desert. As he took one last look at the village that was once his home he heard a loud bellowing and an saw the old Elf being pulled along behind a sand-colored yeehar with bulging muscles by the massive animal's harness. "Madaricatu bizar!" the old Elf exclaimed. "Chaga wait!" he yelled, as he spied the Ranger preparing to leave. The Ranger climbed down off the horse and ran over the the old Elf. As he approached the Yeehar the animal looked back at him with large unblinking eyes and the Ranger got the feeling that the animal was singularly unimpressed. |
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Latest revision as of 17:52, 8 August 2019
| Grenhart woodspirt Usho | |
|---|---|
| Status | Active |
| Race | Elf |
| Gender | Male |
| Guild | Ranger |
| Instance | Prime |
Grenhart woodspirt-Usho of Elanthia, an Elven Ranger.
He is tall for an elf. He has pointed ears and silver eyes. His blue-black hair is very long and wavy, and is worn braided. He has copper skin.
He has a tattoo of a skeletal sailor adorned in rotting seaweed on his arm.
Grenhart (Gren) woodspirt
A Sand Elf. A Ranger by trade. Odd thing for a Sand Elf, the dunes of Velaka are long way from the forests usually associated with the Ranger’s Guild, but being a Ranger is a calling and it really doesn’t matter where you hail from. Of course in keeping with his roots he is a follower of Kuniyo and favors the blade over the bow.
Grenhart’s father was a trader and on one his visits to the Crossing with his father he ran into an odd little guy named Snare running around with a whole posse of raccoons in tow. Fascinated by this strange creature and his raccoons Grenhart left his home and traveled alone back to the Crossing to investigate.
Snare explained to Grenhart the working of the Ranger Guild and introduced him to the crazy lady that runs the Crossing Ranger Guild. Snare’s view was basically train or die, and if you didn’t train he would be happy to help you die.
After some discussion with Snare about the "die" part, Grenhart joined and the crazy lady accepted him into the guild.
For the record Snare wasn't kidding about the "die" part.
A solitary creature by nature Grenhart stayed mainly in the wilds. During the Gorbesh War his good friend Darkskye D'leave introduced him to a war band called the Apostles. There he met Rock Loyalheart and Candidus, two of the finest Tinmen that have ever walked these realms. He fought in the war with the Apostles not really knowing that the war band would eventually become an order of the realms.
After the Gorbesh War Grenhart returned to the wilderness until the Outcasts arrived. He returned to service as a member of the ZEF. He fought the Outcasts all the way to Shard and stood, and fell, at the gates of the city.
Grenhart was particularly torn in this war as the Outcast’s were desert peoples and Queen Morganae’s reference to them as “desert curs” cut deep. For Elf or any other race the desert is harsh and you learn to give respect to those that survive it. The end of that war did not sit well with Grenhart and he again returned to the wilderness.
Some years later he returned to Crossing and made new friends.
Over the years many of Grenhart’s friends and comrades have departed the realms and you can often find him enjoying a toast to them. Grenhart mourns the passing of old friends and wears the scars of old battles, but as the Sand Elves say there are always new friends to make and new battles to be won (Berri jora we berri gorma).
So cheers my friend, here is to the next day may the Gods be merciful we will live to see it.
And drink to the next.
Or something.