[Travnia Biography]
Pathfinder
Execution day in Nordstone; a day of public satisfaction courtesy of the township. For the city of Nordstone the harsh climate lead to resentful residents and public executions were seen by all as a means to provide entertainment for the townsfolk and justice for all.
The newly formed city of Nordstone, only a few generations in age, was built on a plateau surrounded by enormous mountain peaks to the south. A wealthy mineral discovered within the mountains give rise to the development of mines and quarries, the largest being Nordstone. Settlement soon began to flourish around these mines and construction of the town grew rapidly from the riches of the mines. Huge white-stone buildings, medieval in architecture build to withstand the cold harsh elements were erected. Grand monuments were built resulting in the town becoming a city with a regional ironfist. Wide main streets situated the provisional stores, while narrower side streets held a rampant black market selling exotic weapons, prostitution and black magic. The streets were cobbled under the dusting from the snow, a statement of its wealth. Due to its elevation and current season the city is subject to unforgiving weather systems. Heavy snowstorms and fearsome subzero temperatures ravaged the city and in this season the skies were a constant dull grey.
Many former warriors lay down their arms when coming to Nordstone in search of wealth and prospect. In time, their nature, stressed working conditions and depressing climate led the townsfolk to become rugged and bitter. The mixed culture of battle hardened ex-warriors and well dressed tophat wearing scumbags had complimented each other well. The cities two thousand some population gathered on masse to the city square to watch the monthly executions; according to the mayors office two male rapists and a female thief.
The city square was overlooked by the mayors residence to the north; the most spectacular building in Nordstone. In front of the residence, on the northern walkway, a tall thick pillar held on top a large stone statue of a solitary raging wolf; the cities emblem. At the heart of the square lay a large concrete altar some 30 feet across, played host to the bound condemned. The city square was bustling as different races, warriors, tribesman, prospectors and residents heckled and traded items. A light blizzard had begun as the city clock tower read a few minutes before midday.
Among the vast crowd Travnia stood in view of the altar; silent in the midst of the roaring and bloodthirsty crowd. The clock tower struck midday as an executioner grabbed one of the rapists by the hair and dragged him to the front of the altar forcing him to kneel in front of the crowd. The hateful voices of the crowd rang out “kill that f*cker!” , “burn in hell you c*nt!”. A surge of anticipation took the crowd by the throat as the executioner raised his sword above him and with a powerful swing thrust the blade into the back of the rapists neck. A splatter of blood emerged from the wound as the executioner tugged his head ripping the skin and muscle. Again he hacked the neck; this time the head was severed. His lifeless body fell forward off the altar as his bloody head was held aloft for all to see. The crowd cheered in morbid joy, as Travnia began to walk through the mob back to the city streets.
His thoughts pondered an old saying - “what you reap is what you sow“, judgement would come for this f*cking sadistic population… but not today.
In the somewhat quieter streets the crowds heckles could still be heard, the snow had become heavier and temperatures fell dramatically; appropriate weather for a cold blooded city. Travnia walked back along the thoroughfare, his boots crunching the snow with every step. The self-absorbed scum preoccupied with the executions had caused no attention to be drawn to himself. His long black coat fluttered in the gentle wind as his hair began to soak from the falling flakes. His head tilted to the ground, peering through the long black strands covering his face. Quiet unyielding aggression was harboured behind his eyes ready to be unleashed. He had come to this godforsaken sh*thole to quell his deadlock of boredom and drought of challenge. Centuries had past since Travnia last spilt blood and giving this gathering bunch of sadistic fools, he had hoped for bravado or confrontation from at least one. Random slaughter held no meaning anymore, what was missing was true contest.
The candle lit streetlights flickered as the creeping winds edged closer, the pandered crowd began to disperse from the square as the remaining executions were carried out. With their primary interests resolved, Travnia took advantage of the situation to call out to all beings near and far. Raising his right hand to his face he covered his mouth for a brief few seconds, muttering quietly into the palm of his hand; his eyes closed. As he slowly drew his hand away from his mouth he blew the message contents from his hand and opened his eyes; sending out a challenge to any worthy . To those willing to listen a strong pull of desire would lead them to Nordstone and his location. Travnia awaited the coming response, seating himself on a cast stone bench his back pressed against the cold stone wall of some self-important grand building. His head bowed forward and hands placed on his opposing knees. His dark appearance was nothing unusual, as tophat-fatcat proprietors marched up and down the streets heckling. Discreetly lowering his right hand from his leg a scarlet aura swirled around his fingers as Travnia pulled matter together to form a small sand timer. Placing it by his feet the sand began to flow; when the timer ran out - no one was coming. Awaiting his answer he hoped that anything would bring meaning to this barren f*cking day.
[OOC: No rule restrictions apply. Challenge open to all]
Pathfinder
Execution day in Nordstone; a day of public satisfaction courtesy of the township. For the city of Nordstone the harsh climate lead to resentful residents and public executions were seen by all as a means to provide entertainment for the townsfolk and justice for all.
The newly formed city of Nordstone, only a few generations in age, was built on a plateau surrounded by enormous mountain peaks to the south. A wealthy mineral discovered within the mountains give rise to the development of mines and quarries, the largest being Nordstone. Settlement soon began to flourish around these mines and construction of the town grew rapidly from the riches of the mines. Huge white-stone buildings, medieval in architecture build to withstand the cold harsh elements were erected. Grand monuments were built resulting in the town becoming a city with a regional ironfist. Wide main streets situated the provisional stores, while narrower side streets held a rampant black market selling exotic weapons, prostitution and black magic. The streets were cobbled under the dusting from the snow, a statement of its wealth. Due to its elevation and current season the city is subject to unforgiving weather systems. Heavy snowstorms and fearsome subzero temperatures ravaged the city and in this season the skies were a constant dull grey.
Many former warriors lay down their arms when coming to Nordstone in search of wealth and prospect. In time, their nature, stressed working conditions and depressing climate led the townsfolk to become rugged and bitter. The mixed culture of battle hardened ex-warriors and well dressed tophat wearing scumbags had complimented each other well. The cities two thousand some population gathered on masse to the city square to watch the monthly executions; according to the mayors office two male rapists and a female thief.
The city square was overlooked by the mayors residence to the north; the most spectacular building in Nordstone. In front of the residence, on the northern walkway, a tall thick pillar held on top a large stone statue of a solitary raging wolf; the cities emblem. At the heart of the square lay a large concrete altar some 30 feet across, played host to the bound condemned. The city square was bustling as different races, warriors, tribesman, prospectors and residents heckled and traded items. A light blizzard had begun as the city clock tower read a few minutes before midday.
Among the vast crowd Travnia stood in view of the altar; silent in the midst of the roaring and bloodthirsty crowd. The clock tower struck midday as an executioner grabbed one of the rapists by the hair and dragged him to the front of the altar forcing him to kneel in front of the crowd. The hateful voices of the crowd rang out “kill that f*cker!” , “burn in hell you c*nt!”. A surge of anticipation took the crowd by the throat as the executioner raised his sword above him and with a powerful swing thrust the blade into the back of the rapists neck. A splatter of blood emerged from the wound as the executioner tugged his head ripping the skin and muscle. Again he hacked the neck; this time the head was severed. His lifeless body fell forward off the altar as his bloody head was held aloft for all to see. The crowd cheered in morbid joy, as Travnia began to walk through the mob back to the city streets.
His thoughts pondered an old saying - “what you reap is what you sow“, judgement would come for this f*cking sadistic population… but not today.
In the somewhat quieter streets the crowds heckles could still be heard, the snow had become heavier and temperatures fell dramatically; appropriate weather for a cold blooded city. Travnia walked back along the thoroughfare, his boots crunching the snow with every step. The self-absorbed scum preoccupied with the executions had caused no attention to be drawn to himself. His long black coat fluttered in the gentle wind as his hair began to soak from the falling flakes. His head tilted to the ground, peering through the long black strands covering his face. Quiet unyielding aggression was harboured behind his eyes ready to be unleashed. He had come to this godforsaken sh*thole to quell his deadlock of boredom and drought of challenge. Centuries had past since Travnia last spilt blood and giving this gathering bunch of sadistic fools, he had hoped for bravado or confrontation from at least one. Random slaughter held no meaning anymore, what was missing was true contest.
The candle lit streetlights flickered as the creeping winds edged closer, the pandered crowd began to disperse from the square as the remaining executions were carried out. With their primary interests resolved, Travnia took advantage of the situation to call out to all beings near and far. Raising his right hand to his face he covered his mouth for a brief few seconds, muttering quietly into the palm of his hand; his eyes closed. As he slowly drew his hand away from his mouth he blew the message contents from his hand and opened his eyes; sending out a challenge to any worthy . To those willing to listen a strong pull of desire would lead them to Nordstone and his location. Travnia awaited the coming response, seating himself on a cast stone bench his back pressed against the cold stone wall of some self-important grand building. His head bowed forward and hands placed on his opposing knees. His dark appearance was nothing unusual, as tophat-fatcat proprietors marched up and down the streets heckling. Discreetly lowering his right hand from his leg a scarlet aura swirled around his fingers as Travnia pulled matter together to form a small sand timer. Placing it by his feet the sand began to flow; when the timer ran out - no one was coming. Awaiting his answer he hoped that anything would bring meaning to this barren f*cking day.
[OOC: No rule restrictions apply. Challenge open to all]
