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18+ A Burden To Bear

Discussion in 'Skyrim Fan Fiction' started by fellowknight, May 3, 2014.

  1. fellowknight

    fellowknight Private Lil' Num-Nums

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    A Burden To Bear
    Deep in the heart of ancient Atmora, beyond the luscious forests and mighty mountains, there lied a single solitary capitol of the Nedic people's homeland. Evensdale. Formally renamed after the early men took the continent from the elves, who named it Baltun, which translated to 'Stone Empire' in Aldmeris. A pure diamond-gold city of prosperous proportion that has only been raided once but has seen enough war by now to harden it's people and paint it's walls with the blood of hundreds of generations of Ancient Atmoran Warriors, both young and rageful. The king of Evensdale, Ysgramor, has long ruled as not only a king, but an early military tactician and General to his army, The Dawn. A war has sparked, one that may not simply be put out or settled easily; a war between The Dawn and their rivals, The Crimson.


    The war was first started by a small dispute over a few acres of land in North-eastern Atmora. The argument lay between a common Atmoran and an Elf foreigner, fighting over whom should own which pieces of land, and both eventually turning to the subject of who really belongs in Atmora. Little did they know, they held the fate of the future Nedicfolk in their words. Soon enough, the war had started as all wildfires do, dividing the people and the continent and drenching all in blood and loss. But the Crimson have dark allies hidden in the cracks and crevasses of Atmora, even mightier allies that hail only to the skies, and one unnatural power behind it all that has yet to be seen...


    But this story is not about the war, the people, or even Ysgramor. This story is about a young knight, roughly in his thirties, whose madly in love with the daughter of Ysgramor and princess to the throne, Joldi Ysgramor, and struggles to keep balance in his relationship and in his mind. Baroth Hermingfel is his name, and he now finds himself in the middle of a war he never meant to be a part of. But as duty and land call for help, Baroth must take up his sword and shield to protect his homeland, his love, and his people from the approaching storm. This tale tells of one of Baroth's great adventures and how he survived the ancient war in one piece.


    Disclaimer: I do not own any of the material up to the Lore of the following setting. The background of the story i set down came purely from hard research and good printing. I do not own nor do i mean to make profit off of the thousands of references to come and their lore background. I respect and love the Elder Scrolls Series and hope to produce a worthy tale for the RPer's and fan's liking. But also note that where the lore of Atmora ends, is where my story and that of Baroth's begins. I do own the unrecognized characters in this fanfic as they are born of my imagination. The recognized or 'canon' characters i will use in this fanfic are not of my making and thus, belong to the Elder Scrolls. If you are unsure which characters are which, i advise you to search the name to give yourself closure and contact me for clarification. Thank you for taking the time to read this.


    Author's Note and Acknowledgements: Hey guys. I know most of you who read this post know me as a writer, a friend, or perhaps a good RP partner. But for those of you who don't know me at all, i truly wish to knit an epic tale for your convenience or at least, a good read for when boredom takes you over. I also hope to provide some of the beginners and aspiring writers with inspiration enough to do carry out their dreams. To my friends and fellow acquaintances, i thank you personally for constantly being good role-models, fair RPers, and even better friends. Consider this a product of all your hard work. I'd also like to give a special mention to Simus, Dabiene Caristiana, Marius Dustman, Andre Marek, and Hale Loneshadow. I have always admired your work, your support, and your devotion to RPing. And without them, and you, Baroth would have died long ago. Thank you all for serving as my main motivation for writing this Fanfic and thus, preserving my energy and love for RP. It was you, and the good website of skyrimforums.org, that inspired and strengthened my passion for Skyrim RP.


    So, thank you, fellow friends, moderators, and RPers alike, for helping me reach yet another goal in many to come and raising me from a small time RPer to a well renowned writer. I promise that as long as people read this series and i feel motivated, i will post at least once every week, unless something comes up, then i'll post the following week but will leave a notification. But be warned, there will be heavy gore throughout a majority of the chapters, along with much smut, vulgarity, and detailed violence. No smut, gore, or violence will be included in this chapter, just minimal vulgarity. There will be many surprises and MUCH, MUCH, MUCH action for you thrill-seekers. Either way, i hope you can all stick through it to the end. It'll be a long journey and i'm glad to share it with you all, friends and newcomers alike. So please, and with all respect, read, enjoy, and give me your full feedback. I love you all :)


    Chapter 1

    The setting sun of Last Seed submerged gradually into the elliptical horizon of the Northern Sea of Tamriel, shining it's flushed golden glow across the Northern-most continent of Atmora. If one were to stroll through the forests themselves, they would have seen the sun's brilliant radiance cut into rays by the tall trees and short sprouts, covering the forest floor in a variety of shadows and shapes of bleary light. On the coasts and beaches, the fading sunlight reflected off of the sand and shone excellently in the foaming waters that tenderly crashed into the shore. Among the artic North mountains, the falling sun highlighted the peaks and brims of the glacial slopes, hardly adding extra warmth to the bitter winds. Across the grasslands and meadows, the sun beamed beautifully through and on the strands of grass, gracing it with the last of it's dazzling brilliance before retiring for the night. High in the thick orange-tinted clouds, a flock of geese made the dangerous journey south in hopes of better habitats or possibly warmer living spaces, paying no mind to the earth beneath them.

    Somewhere in the heart of Atmora, the central kingdom of Evensdale stood towering and dignified in the falling sunshine, shaded an indistinguishable emerald. Tired but aware after a hard day's work, the city silently respired and settled in for the night. The capitol that holds strong to the almost center of the continent had walls and a palace purely composed of a mixture of Corundum (diamond) and Auric (gold), harvested from some of the exquisite mines of predated Tamriel. The material these minerals produced was more than ideal for the countless battles and sieges the city had and soon would endure. The product of such varied work, was the most beautifully resilient city to ever be seen on Tamriel, yet doomed to never reach the records, as most tales go; simply a whisper upon faint lips in the modern age.

    With the Palace as Evensdale' center, the other lower housings encompassed it with intertwining roads and closely spaced alleys. Most of the houses in the meager parts of the city were made of cheaply purchased or easily farmed materials like mud-bricks and straw weaving. A majority of these houses didn't even have water to spare themselves a bath, let alone food for the night and a clean environment for newborns and children. Elders were not expected to bear hard labors, while children and younglings can work chores around the home, they too have limits to their strength. But this was a simple part of life at their time. In fact, most Atmorans made quite a wondrous living in the poorly crafted houses.

    Moving up the incline of a hill the city was built on, one would find the stone houses of the richer or more hard-laboring Atmorans of Evensdale. Then there were a few large stone houses that served as resting hubs and eating stops for weary or homeless Atmorans; i.e., early inns. All of these houses had the similar aspects of the houses you would find in the world today: Chimneys; a variation of open patches in the roof that the resident/s allowed smoke to escape through; If it was a rainy or snowy day, they would cover the holes with hides and wooden pallets. Doors; the richer houses and most of the more famous 'inns' had simple hides they hung over their thresholds; a majority of the poorer houses had either hides or no doors at all. Windows; in their early times, a good portion of the houses, straw and stone, had either simple holes through which they could peer or no windows at all, as they helped the cold winds drag into the house; the Atmorans learned to apply the same concept of the 'hide-covered-doorways' to some of the larger windows. And Cellars; back in those days, the houses would have dirt steps they craft with wet sand leading to a hide covered hole, in which they would store their most precious items; relics, antiques, sacred stones, artifacts, family heirlooms, etc.

    The stores and blacksmith shops (formally known as metal shops) were in early production, so their output was slow but steady to work with. The same method of forging, grinding, conditioning, and tanning hasn't changed, though they used wood and grass for a strong fire to forge, rather than embers and fire salts. In fact, most forges didn't even have roofs to cover them so the smoke wouldn't build up and suffocate the blacksmith; other forges had orbicular patios aloft the forges; on showery days, this would stop all production and force all blacksmiths to cover their forges with hides. On snowy days, however, the production was slower than usual and the blacksmiths barely met their quotas on time. The store-owners would have their fresh produce laid out for a day before tossing the remaining in a small stone well of hot spring water to keep it fresh for some time. There were no books nor records, no paintings and few early maps sketched in stone (from which the military worked upon), and no signs marked the store's existence, which meant the store owner had to stand at his door most of the day and offer for passers to come in and browse his goods; the products themselves were in primitive production so supply and variety were limited. An outside source is also said to have taught the early Nedic people such methods, thus advancing their smith trade by a few generations.

    Clothing itself was not as varied, but the Atmorans found their own way to expand their style. The tailors themselves were forced to come up with new ideas and designs for their tunics, cloaks, pins, belts, boots, crowns, gloves, bracers, and a thick variety of leggings and pants. Some argue outside sources also assisted with the fashion and design of the early Atmoran's clothing. Tying their work into the kingdoms of Atmora itself, the tailors and thread-spinners soon weaved legends into the apparel that still lives in the clothing today. In fact, some argue they were responsible for the main concept of the designs on the armor, banners, and flags in modern Tamriel.

    Long since war was discovered with stick and stone, the people of Atmora had since began thinking of ways to protect themselves from the daily raids and constant battles that were undoubtedly going to happen. They started by building walls, first out of dirt, almost an eon ago. Then they built them out of sticks and the bark of trees; the wind proved the better offense. Then finally, within this year of the mid Merethic Era, they have discovered and advanced their way of building walls, again assumed to be assisted by the same outside source; they also helped them with their defenses of the walls they built. Ballista, young catapults, scorpios, and stalwart watchmen outfitted the circular wall around Evensdale. At the four main entrances/exits of the circular wall, guardsmen were posted to keep watch over the people along with the daily patrols that walked throughout the city. Along with the rope activated gates, the wall also had a 250 ton blockade that fell from within the circular wall itself. In recent skirmishes, this had proved a useful defense against the invading masses.

    But always will war plague the continent of Atmora, which is why Ysgramor, King of Evensdale, has forged a distant council of the early kings and queens of the several continents of Nirn, which was formally named 'The Nine Corners.' In exchange for troops, supplies, transportation, minerals, or simple ingredients, the following kingdom would assist the donating kingdom with a favor of that kingdom's choosing; thus, this is ideal when a war surfaces from the earth and quakes the populations.

    The people of Atmora lived happy, prosperous lives for years to come, filled with good harvest and long days of hard labor. And they thrived. And they were happy.

    However, rumor grows, rumor that the Crimsons had convinced most of south-western Tamriel to fight alongside them in exchange for land and unequal opportunities not to be seen for eons to come. Yet along with this coming alliance, there also comes darkness that the world had yet to discover; a darkness that can summon the raw power of shadows. The elves have taken to calling it Baldun, which translates to 'Cursed Death.'

    But today, in this time and age, our story is not about coming wars to pass. Nor is it of Ysgramor and his people. In ancient Atmora, on one of several winding tiers of the Palace's exterior, there strolled the courteous, star-bound Joldi Ysgramor, Princess to the throne of Evensdale. It was here she and her to-be spouse, Baroth, spent most of their nights, simply watching over the city and the land with a relative peace in their hearts. They knew of the coming war, but swore to each other that it would not disband their love for as long as they lived. They also came out on the walkways to think and talk to each other, away from the servants and Joldi's hounding father, Ysgramor.

    He approved of their connection but something had stirred behind his eyes; a worry-filled discontent had grown within him. His mind wanders and he spends much more time in his study-room than ever. Joldi had noticed this odd change and questioned her father on several private occasions, but he had quietly urged her to not worry over him and to enjoy herself, though she still worries about him. But tonight was not a night to worry, but rather, to share joy and anxiety with Baroth for the coming event.

    Their marriage.

    Within the next four days, the servants, maidens, chefs, cleaners, messengers, crafters, and butlers alike would all assist in their roles of preparing the beautiful ceremony. Ysgramor had prepared a surprise of his own for the fated duo: For Baroth, a Longsword with metal spiraling down red velvet on the handle, made of the finest mix of silver and tungsten (an extremely sparse metal mined deep within the earth, also rumored to be absolutely unbreakable.) And for his beloved daughter, he himself had forged a fine crown of Auric and Argent; the design consisted of small hands holding onto each other leading up to the front of the crown where a small design of a half-shining sun in a ruby was the head of the crown. He had to travel before the Nine Corners themselves to request the resources needed to gather the minerals for the sword and crown; not to mention it took him months to forge each. But in the end, Ysgramor knew the sword and crown's role in the coming days, he knew what they would be needed for.

    Padding up the steps of one of the gold-diamond walkways, the young Baroth sighed as he made it to the final balcony that he and his love shared; He was bruised and debilitated from a day of working around the city. Everyday for the past five weeks, he devoted his time to helping the city prepare for the wedding, in which his daily duties consisted of: helping the chefs with cooking for thirty-five minutes, building new carts and delivering goods to certain sections of the palace for one hour, personally delivering invitations to the townsfolk along with several other messengers for another hour, hunting down kitchen supplies for the chefs for two hours, gathering the needed materials for the crafters for three hours, and assisting with common palace-work for one hour. Then came his 'bonus donations' of taking food platters to the 'slums' of the city, assisting the elderly or wounded with common chores, and repairing houses took about three hours, one hour each. Then he helped prepare for the night's feast which took a little over fifteen minutes on his part, leaving him with three hours to himself (and nine hours to sleep) if he got up at seven thirty-five a.m.

    Joldi on the other hand, spent a good twelve hours a day doing her duties, such as receiving and sending letter to some of the major kingdoms, greeting and negotiating with high officials of distant kingdoms, and traveling with her father to other cities within Atmora to discuss treaties and other contacts. Half of the rest of her day is spent serving Evensdale however she could; be it running deliveries or helping some families with house chores, she devoted her full attention to them for the few hours she had left. Sometimes, she and Baroth saw each other and quietly acknowledged each other before moving off to finish their day's work. But at the end of the day, Joldi had nine hours to herself and Baroth had seven hours to himself; each had to spring bath, so that was thirty minutes off of their time.

    A spring bath was the second form of early bathing; there was a room at the very bottom of the palace where a few natural springs had been found in the early construction of the city. The springs keep themselves clean by simply boiling out the dirt and muck and circulating it with new water, all while staying hot and relaxing which worked into the muscles. Baroth and Joldi each spent a heavenly thirty minutes here everyday, though since Joldi had a full two hours more than Baroth, she was always waiting for him when he got out of the springs.

    As he crept up the steps to one of the highest tiers, Baroth spotted Joldi leaning on the balcony while adoring the dying sunset. She loved this time of the day and for good reason; she always left her hair moist so she could feel the cooling breeze consume her skin for a moment and give her goosebumps. She loved that feeling, it made her feel refreshed after a long day's work. Not to say Baroth didn't enjoy that feeling; he actually loved just as much as she did. It was simply that he was sore enough having to do all the heavy work he did everyday, he was tired when he reached the top tiers. But feeling that cool breeze sweep over him, his hair also still wet, made him feel at peace with himself and the whole kingdom. It was here, on this continent, in this city, and on this palace tier that he truly felt at peace. At home. And the best part was that he and Joldi shared this feeling.

    Dressed in his baggy light tan cotton pants with deer leather sandals and a slightly loose long sleeve tan cotton shirt, Baroth crept up behind Joldi and took a moment to study her. Her dark hazel hair stuck together in clumps as she had deliberately left it wet to feel the swift breeze sweep over her. The robe she wore alluringly complimented the gentle curves of her body and hung loosely on her shoulders. She held the front part of the robes closed with her firm hands and shifted in her sandals as she inclined her head to watch the sunset fade away. Baroth, wide smile on his face as he knew he was possibly the most silent person she knew, wrapped his arms around Joldi's waist and set his head to rest on her right shoulder; which caused quite a loud yip of surprise to emerge from her lips. She sighed quietly and gave Baroth one of those soft nudges that wasn't meant to be a nudge; she knew who it was, even more than that, she was internally enlightened that it was Baroth.

    With a micro grin, she leaned her head back on Baroth's left shoulder and spoke gingerly into his ear, her light Nedic accent softly invading his eardrums.

    "Finally here then, huh?"

    "Aye. I nearly died climbing up here. I almost asked Nilda to carry me in her cart."

    She laughed softly and looked at Baroth's unshaven, rough beard. He hadn't grown it out but it had taken it's vengeance on his jaw, sprouting a little almost everyday. It bothered her some nights but tickled her all the same.

    "I doubt she'd give you the satisfaction. You know how much she loves that cart of hers."

    "Aye. I wouldn't be surprised if she pulled a dagger on me just for asking!" He retorted, laughing with Joldi for a few moments.

    Rolling her eyes after a short laugh, she pushed her head against his neck and nuzzled there for a minute.

    "How was your day?" She silently murmured into his ear.

    Baroth sighed and nodded contently. "Good. It was good. A long and weary day no doubt, but good for my soul nonetheless. And yours?" He asked, delicately brushing a strand of hair from her face and trailing his fingers down her neck, which caused her to lull in momentary arousal.

    She smiled and nodded to him. Baroth had been working hard for weeks now to secure their wedding and assist Evensdale however he could. The days ran together like wet paint and Joldi was unsure if she could take another week of laboring over her common duties. Though it was rewarding like Baroth said, the days started counting up and weighing on her. But she knew she had to be strong for her kingdom; Baroth was just as well off as her but they both had their limits. At the very least they had each other, and that was enough to keep them going.

    "Same as usual. Today, I traveled with my father to Duradin to discuss the violation of the Commerce Treaty we had made in the past.", She sighed, grimly thinking of her father's slow turn to silence and isolation. "He's changed so much. He barely eats, Baroth. He's always at the feasts, yes, but it's like...he's not there, you know. He doesn't sleep at all either. Some nights when I get up, i see him pacing about the main hall before leaving to his study. I think..." She exhaled harshly and looked up at Baroth, who had now taken to her concern. She knew they felt the same thing; she knew they both worried about Ysgramor's well being and emotional stability. But they also both knew how strong he was, what courage he commanded; a stalwart champion of the warfare arts and sole survivor of Atmora's uprising. They had no doubt Ysgramor had endured harsher labors, but the thought of coming war had long been on his mind; it had to be, for there was no other explanation.

    With an outward sigh of discontent, Baroth allowed his left hand to break away from Joldi's waist and brush a lock of her hazel hair from her face. "I know, i know. His mind wanders, no doubt; i see this. He often thinks of his people; i know this because he has told me himself. He worries. He cares for you, Joldi. I suppose he sees you as his...one hope for a piece of mind. Make no mistake Joldi, he does worry, yes, but for good reason. Tell you what, i'll talk to him after the feast tonight. Just me and him."

    She looked up at Baroth with her dark aqua, hope-filled eyes. "Promise?"

    Baroth simply nodded and kissed her forehead. "Promise. Now how's that sound?"

    She nodded with a hopeful smile before propping her head up from Baroth's embrace to watch the sun shine for but a few more solemn minutes. "Good. That sounds good." She replied, as her eyes gawked at the simple amazement of the falling star's retreat into the North-western bay, painting a vivid dark apricot morphing into a dim azure. By Shor was it a gorgeous view. And they both sat there and admired the view in lone silence, accompanied only by their soft breathing and the weak gusts of wind.

    Baroth, seizing his opportunity to invite a few more chuckles in before Dinner, grinned from ear to ear and once again began on his theory.

    "You know," He said with a sly smirk. ,"I forgot to tell Ysgramor to carry my theory with him on his last visit to the Council of The Nine Corners."

    "Oh boy, here we go again..." She said lazily, rolling her eyes before closing them.

    "Hey, this is a serious matter that the Corners should be aware of."

    "Uh! Tis' not!"

    "Tis' too! I warn ya', this subject must be realized as a potential opportunity to discover something new! They'll make history, i say!"

    Then Joldi inclined her head towards him and gave him a fake serious look. "No they won't! The only thing they'll be making is a waste of time! Why they wouldn't even waste their breath being concerned about it!"

    "Oh yes they would! I am telling you, one day....chickens will fly!"

    "Ugh! Baroth!"

    "I'm serious!" He exclaimed with a wolfish grin. "I swear i saw it almost happen once. Poor thing didn't get a boot off the ground before falling on it's feathered rump! Left me rolling in tears of laughter!"

    Joldi cracked a smile and giggled out loud as the crazy knight continued ranting on. "Baroth!"

    "Hey, chickens aren't the only ones. I swear the ducks are trying at it too. Poor, peanut-brained fools!"

    "Hey! You're a fool, ya dolt!"

    "Aye, but a handsome fool all the same." He smirked, as they both burst into a short series of laughs and giggles for a few dozen moments before receding. Then staring into each other's eyes, they leaned in for kiss when a grunt off to their left interrupted the moment. Both quickly looking to source of the sound, they spotted a sizable, brawny looking middle aged man with light dirty blonde hair and a menacing beard with his arms crossed and his face up turned in a small smirk with one bushy eyebrow raised. Ysgramor stood with his muscled arms crossed, dressed in a light brown tunic that hung to his mid-thighs with hide sandals and hide bracers about his wrists, and watched the duo as they glared scarcely at him before Ysgramor broke into his usual deep-bellowed laugh as he neared them with open arms and a broad smile upon his lips.

    "Ha ha! Interrupting something am I?"

    Baroth grinned and nudged Joldi to take his hand as they met Ysgramor on the steps. "Nothing in particular, my friend. Let me see you! Ah, how have you been? Seems like an age since last we've talked! Tell me now, what have you been up to?" As he spoke, he gave the man a friendly hug and a warm nod to signify his merriment of seeing him; he was speaking literally when he said an age. Joldi was right and he made a promise to her that he'd talk to Ysgramor and after the feast, that's what he intended to do.

    "Nothing much of worry. Running errands and stone tablets to all the kingdoms of Atmora as usual. I cannot say enough to inform you properly, however. But worry not over my labors and my own distress. Simply the duties as I am king. Ah, Joldi!" He exclaimed, facing his lovely daughter who extended her arms to hug her father tightly, whom roughly returned her embrace. He had missed his daughter every hour they were apart, which added to his list of constant concerns. But knowing Baroth was around her when Ysgramor couldn't be gave him some comfort.

    After nearly squeezing her father to death, Joldi quickly pecked him on the cheek and took a second to examine him. From afar, she couldn't see the gloomy bags under his eyes nor his thin lineaments and untrimmed eyebrows. It looked as if he hadn't slept good for years though he went to bed every night. He looked almost undead and it cracked Joldi's heart to see her own father like this. Hopefully, Baroth would get to the bottom of it at the end of tonight's feast. Hopefully.

    "Father! Oy, looks as though an age has finally caught up with you! Perhaps i should take the Throne a little early so you can go on that vacation you've always dreamed of."

    "No, my daughter. For if i were to simply abandon my Throne, what would i be then? An old, plump man!"

    "Aye, but a happy old plump man nonetheless!" She said with a smile, as all three of them burst into cycles of laughter.

    After laughing with his daughter for a few short moments more, Ysgramor sighed and looked towards the horizon. By now, the sun had well hid itself in the sea and under the mountains, the sky getting dimmer and dimmer with each passing mark. Soon enough, the luminous crescent would arise from the murky waters of the Northern sea. The aroma of roasting boar, boiling chicken, and fresh bread invaded his nostrils, wetting his tongue and making his stomach call out for satisfaction. He was ready and the feast was prepared.

    "Mmmm! By Shor, smells as though the feast is cooking itself!" Joldi exclaimed, her eyes widening with every mere waft of the delectable scent.

    "Aye, tonight's feast will surely be one of it's kind!" Baroth said, inhaling in the thick savor of wild meat and hot bread as it willed him to hearken to the kitchen's hall.

    Finally realizing himself that he could wait no longer, Ysgramor faced the other and eagerly beckoned to them with his howling stomach and rumbling voice not far behind. "Bah! Come then! Let us feast for ourselves, lest the staff and others beat us to it! Come, come! My stomach yearns for fulfillment! Come on!" He urged, leading the two into the Dining Hall with one quick glance back at the vista. One swift, worried glance the others didn't notice, just before they slipped into the Dining hall.
     
    • Winner Winner x 2
    #1 fellowknight, May 3, 2014
    Last edited: Sep 28, 2014
  2. fellowknight

    fellowknight Private Lil' Num-Nums

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    Reserved for Chapter 2.
     
  3. fellowknight

    fellowknight Private Lil' Num-Nums

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    Forgive me, fellow readers. It appears my schedule may have to change. For the next four weeks, i will be very busy with work as we are working on a team project of sorts. But when summer hits, my schedule may loosen up enough to where i have free time. But for now, please enjoy the first chaptr and give me all your feedback. Thank you all.

    And for all you visual folk, allow me to provide you with pictures of the following introduced characters:

    Joldi Ysgramor

    most-beautiful-paintings-of-women-by-christiane-vleugels-10.jpg

    Baroth Hermingfel

    nord_by_lostangel1987-d4nlqq1.png

    And Ysgramor himself.

    tumblr_mwsv2wTJfG1rl72dho1_1280.png
     

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