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 The Bitter Saga of Wulffgarr

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Posts : 19
Join date : 2011-07-09

PostSubject: The Bitter Saga of Wulffgarr   Sat Jul 09, 2011 10:34 am

((Thank you for the invite to the guild. I've read over the rules and tried to read as many member bios as I could. There are many colorful, well written backgrounds here, so I wanted to write one for my char. I will write more about him (and perhaps a bit about me) as time goes on. It's been some time since I did any creative writing, and indeed since I read any R.E. Howard, so my lore may be a bit rusty. I didn't see a standard format for bios, so here goes...))
First some basic info:

Name: Wulffgarr
Age: (Unknown) Around 30
Race: Cimmerian
Class: Barbarian


Born in a small Cimmerian village - now burned and forgotten - much of Wulffgarr's past is shrouded by the fog of lost memory. His strange steel-blue eyes are haunted; something feral flashes there as he thinks of his past...

Fragments of his past life return in rare flashes of images, familiar feelings. At times he feels close to remembering something, but the images slip away, leaving him only the pain... he holds it close to his heart, now hardened and tempered over the passing years.

He remembers pain, his village attacked by Vanir raiders, his elder brother felled in battle with the raiders... his father dying to protect his family... young "Wulf" taken by Vanir slavers... separated from his mother and sister... He holds the pain close to his heart... this tragic event his only real rememberance of his relatively peaceful life in Cimmeria... the pain soothes him... protects him... gives him strength when he is too weary to go on.

He remembers a blur of time... months - no, years of shackles and chains...? He was forced to fight in the Vanaheim slave pits, perhaps in Skaun... against his will, mostly, but he did relish the particular release of violent strife. He remembers the rages... disobedience and times of punishment - yes, the beatings always came first - but then the dark confinement followed; locked in a dark hole, intended to drive him mad, perhaps, or teach him to appreciate human companionship. Secretly, however, he relished the solitude - the only time he felt somewhat at peace - and waited for his chance to lash out again at his captors.

He recalls a fair-haired slave girl who was kind to him, told him not to fight so against their captors, to make the best of the time they had together as she nursed him back to health time and time again... he feels a brief stirring of emotion, a more tender emotion this time - but NO! - there was no place for softness in a Cimmerian man's heart - for he knew what followed and it only made the memory more painful... the vicious cycle of pain, rage, violence, solitude and tenderness repeated in a nauseating blur until that day... They were discovered together - fallen asleep after they had made love. DAMN THE GODS! This time she was the one who was beaten while he - in chains - was forced to watch with gnashed teeth. After that dark day, he tried to be obedient; for the first time since his captivity, the wolf feinged docility, suffering indignities and pain in silence and obedience to keep her from harm.

Then came that terrible day when the slave master, in a drunken state, mistreated her - fored himself on her - and *because of her feelings for him*, she resisted; she had screamed and tried to fight him off as he beat her. Wulffgarr, hearing the struggle taking place down the hall, could take no more; using a loose stone in his chamber to smash loose the brackets that kept him chained up, he broke free and he rushed to her aid - to late - by the time he got there, the drunken lout had cut her throat with his dagger... RED, uncontrollable rage followed - more primal feeling here than visual memory - but he remembered baring his teeth in a bloodcurdling roar of anguish and rage! The wild animal had taken over once again as he leapt across the room to tear out the throat of his once-captor! He remembered the sweet, salty taste of the man's blood.

The chaos that followed was filled with battle and fire and and flight, running, hiding, hunting and killing for survival in a harsh, nordic landscape. Why he had not died so many times, he did not know, only that through either the Gods' cruelty or by mere happenstance, he had continued to live and suffer while the lives of those close to him were inevitably destroyed...

(to be continued...)

Wulffgarr had found himself washed up on the sandy shore of some tropical island, covered by dense jungles full of wild beasts -like the stories he vaguely remembered of the Barachan Isles. But how had he gotten here? That was the question he kept asking himself...

His escape from captivity in the northlands of the Vanir had left him in a strange land, more frigid than his native Cimmeria. His struggle then was with basic survival, to find food, warmth and shelter while avoiding capture. Much had taken place afterwards, but the strange fog that obscured his past was thick, and at this point, his memories faded into some hellish half fever-dream of madness, hunting, running, killing to survive. Nothing had seemed real from this point until he washed up on the shore of this damned insect-ridden jungle island.

He looked down at the broken slave manacles on his wrists... He remembered being on a slave ship which was destroyed, but how had he survived... had he drowned? He knew there was much missing from his memories, but putting his past back together would have to wait, for now he needed to find out where he was. Perhaps if he could find some semblance of civilization he could find some answers...

Eventually, Wulffgarr had found his way to the Pirate haven of Tortage, and after dealing with various local troubles (and a variety of hostile local wildlife), he earned his freedom once again. Eager to get back to the mainland, he had set sail with with some smugglers headed for the Northwestern coast. The voyage was long and arduos and he emptied the contents of his stomach several times during the trip. Once he set foot on land again, he silently vowed never to set foot on an ocean-going vessel again. Pict savages, panthers, demons, witches and wizards he could deal with, but not a lurching deck at high seas!

So again he had survived when the odds stacked against him. Was some damned Wizard or the very Gods themselves toying with him, pulling his strings? He would have taken his own life many times before, but it seemed against his nature -too easy, like surrender. Never again would he allow himself to surrender or submit to another's will - not even the Gods! Maybe one day Crom would grant him the honor of a battle-death. HA! He knew he couldn't expect much help or favor from the harsh God of his people; Crom had given his people strength, surely, but he would be granted only that which he earned by his own hand, and paid for with his own sweat and blood. Maybe time would reveal more of his shrouded past. In the mean time, Wulffgarr mused, the struggle must continue - the struggle is all that remains...

As he gazed at the majestic, raw beauty of his homeland, at long last, Wulffgarr felt a longing in his blood, his very nature... Something about this savage land of his ancestors called to him, to sprint along its hillsides, swim its rivers, to hunt beasts in the forests. At last he was home! His family seemed lost to him - perhaps he would never find true peace, even here - but here were his people. These simple, nomadic people were the closest thing to family he may ever find. And yet they were in danger, under attack by the Vanir! So little had changed in all these years. *Good.* He felt a wave of shame almost before the sentiment crossed his mind. And, yet, even in the brutality of it all, this state of war that he found his people in, he savored the simplicity, the brutal honesty of this struggle. It was something he could sink his teeth into. It was an opportunity for Revenge! *So, peace can wait for another day... 'Til that day, the Vanir must die!*

And so, where Wulffgarr had gone to seek peace... in its stead, he discovered purpose... Vengance!

((ME: You can call me 'Wulf', a.k.a. Elricwulf in some circles
AGE: 30ish
SEX: Male
Occupation: Musician/Student/Ex-military dude))

Last edited by Wulfgar on Wed Jul 13, 2011 5:21 am; edited 1 time in total (Reason for editing : Added Part 2)
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Age : 30
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PostSubject: Re: The Bitter Saga of Wulffgarr   Sat Jul 09, 2011 8:54 pm

Look forward to part 2 Smile
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PostSubject: Re: The Bitter Saga of Wulffgarr   Wed Jul 13, 2011 5:26 am

Part 2 is up! And since everyone has been putting pictures of themselves up, I decided "why not?" I hate taking pics, but someone took one of me for my band's promos, so I used that.

Glad to oblige, Cally!
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PostSubject: Re: The Bitter Saga of Wulffgarr   Wed Jul 13, 2011 5:19 pm

Dig it!
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