Welcome heroes, this open RP thread is intended of everyone who is new to writing in the RP treads. All are welcome. I want to exercise my imagination and want to see how this all works.
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A New World welcomes Wyglaf
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The waning glow of cinders from the central firepit gives the great hall of Wyglaf a mesmerizing glow. The smell of the burnt oak dances on the light smoke rising from the orange coals.
Wyglaf sits in his huge chair, overlooking the hall, and drinking deeply the mead from it's gilded horn. His stature is imposing, with his long golden hair falling on his broad shoulder. His eyes peer into the past.
It is the twilight hour of this winter night. The wind whistle and moans about the walls of the hall. All the other warriors are with their women in bed. Only this hero sits up wondering why he feels as though a battle awaits his sword.
The door to the great hall opens deliberately revealing a weary hooded traveler wrapped in fur from head toe. "Greetings father of this great hall" the figure beseeches, "I am hungry and tired from the torment of this storm
may have some food and stay the night?"
Wyglaf stands, raising thick arm with an open hand, greeting the figure "You are welcome to my food, my mead and a pile of furs to rest you weary bones traveler. Welcome to the hall of Wyglaf."
With knotted fingers, the figure removes his hood to expose the white hair of an old warrior. His face is strong but scarred. The largest running the down the right side of his face through a sightless eye.
The old warrior recollects "Wyglaf you say
I have heard songs of you and a king. You were fearless when faced with the teeth and fire of wyrm."
Wyglaf hands the man a shank of meat and a horn of mead. With soft word "I do not speak of this. It is a dark time when I lost my king."
The old man in a gently fatherly but scolding tone continues "Beowulf is celebrating in the halls of Valhalla waiting to share a draft with you. Do not let you heart be heavy, you place is assured." He rips into the meat and takes a drink from his horn.
"I feel as though I have not faced my final battle yet
something evil is coming" the warrior foresees.
The old man with his mouth half full "Although it may be, you, apart from you forefathers and apart from your childrens' children, will witness wonders beyond your dreams. Sleep well this night for tomorrow you will partake in the feast of Valhalla."
Wyglaf woke the next morning wondering if he had either drank to much or had been dreaming. His wife had food waiting for him and let him know that old man had departed earlier after thanking the members of the hall for their generosity.
By the time the sun had sunk below the water, a hoard of wild men descended on the village, Wyglaf having slay hundreds, saved the village but left this world for a feast at the great hall.
As the old warrior predicted, he was greeted by his king, friends and forefathers. They sang, drank and laughed as the weight of the world now belonged to others.
Like his last night of life, the old man entered the great hall of Valhalla. He removed his hood and offered Wyglaf the hospitality of his hall
the hall of the All Father, Odin.
As the ages pass, Wyglaf is joined by many of his prodigy.
One day, Odin approaches him asking for his aid and council. "A nexus exists in a New World Wyglaf," Odin explains "The evils of our age have entered a place where they do not belong. Sacred powers are being used by those who are intended to have these gifts."
Odin puts his hand on the huge warrior's shoulder, "I ask you to restore the order and balance. You will have no fear of death for you are already there."
Wyglaf, throughout time, knew he left the world with something undone, a task incomplete
a thirst for a fight still remained. He smiles at Odin, and lifts his sword, running his hand down it's length he mentions softly, "You knew this day was coming, and
so did I. I will send many to stand before you All-Father and not leave until you call me home."
Not many hellions like working the streets so close to Atlas Park. So many hero wannabes end up jumping ya in homes of making a name for themselves. Manny, a Lieutenant, held up his shiny new shotgun and rested it on his shoulder. He had worked this block for about a year and was making a different kind of name for himself. No more tugging on purses with little old ladies, the shotgun got him respect. He got his place by actually sending a couple of wannabes to the hospital - hit em hard and fast and watchem teleport away.
This morning was weird. Manny felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand out and a nagging feeling like it may be a good day to kick off early. Then he saw it, a hilarious sight, a wannabe running around in full armor. "Heh, this'll be easy". Holding the weapon he slides til click, aims and shoots. Instead of falling, the armored idiot stops
turns
pulls out a sword the size of a 2x8
<fade to black>
Looking to the sky, Wiglaf implores "Odin, this place is strange
the ground is like rock, the halls touch the heavens and this weakling with no armor attacks me?"
After another moment pondering, "Heh
with this evil to defeat
I will be drinking with you in your hall by sun fall."
