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 Posted: Sun Dec 19, 2010 11:31 pm
↟ Order of Jorvik ↟ Once, man and dragons were linked. They inspired us: they spoke of the future, man listened, and it became real. But man does not listen very well. Man's need to own everything led him deeper into land. The magic world of dragons and the world of man separated. Through the centuries their world and all of the inhabitants in it stopped trying. The world of man became more violent: war upon war played out as there were no guides to listen to. Now dragons are trying again, trying to reach us. A handful of them have been sent to the world of man. They arrive in the dead of night to where man lives. But humans, having forgotten of their prior allegiance with the dragons, have become hostile, and the dragons are sent at great risk to their lives. Many do not return. Yet still they try, try to help man, but man may have forgotten how to listen.Based off of a mixture of my own thoughts, and the movies How to Train Your Dragon and Lady in the Water (*cough* intro).Intro † Plot † Rules † Info † Character Sheets † Vikings † Reserved † Status † Reserved
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Posted: Sun Dec 19, 2010 11:32 pm
↟ Plot ↟It is the age of the vikings; brave explorers, skilled merchants, and most importantly fierce warriors. Man has learned to fend for themselves, and protect their own kind. Their closed-mindedness has caused them to see everything as a threat, and their main fear is of the creatures they know as dragons. They have been taught to kill each and every dragon on sight, whether it is because they fear for their own life, or because of the pride that comes along with slaying one of the rare creatures.
In the village of Jorvik, the inhabitants follow the description of vikings thoroughly. But when a group of young humans find ancient etchings of dragons and humans while exploring, they become curious. They begin a quest to find these ancient creatures, the ones that their elders have forewarned about. But what will happen when they encounter these beings? What if all that they know about dragons turns out to be wrong? And how will the village react to this news? I wouldn't wait to find out.
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Posted: Sun Dec 19, 2010 11:33 pm
↟ Rules ↟↠ Follow all of the guild rules and gaia TOS, of course.
↠ Be literate, please. At least two paragraphs per post, write in third person.
↠ I know you can lose yourself in the roleplay, but try to keep your posts to around two a day, unless everyone is posting. We all have lives and some people can't keep up with a quick pace.
↠ Keep ooc to a minimum in this thread, otherwise post here!
↠ Send profiles to me with the title of the roleplay, “Order of Jorvik”.
↠ There will be five to eight openings for characters. Try to make your characters different. Later in the roleplay, each player will be able to create their own dragon to control.
↠ No god modding, auto hitting, or any of those things, please and thank you.
↠ I reserve the right to add more rules.
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Posted: Sun Dec 19, 2010 11:34 pm
↟ Info ↟Dragons can vary in size, shape and color. Some may have different abilities, but all have wings and can fly. Dragons cannot speak outwardly, but have the ability to communicate telepathically, and can focus on one being, or a group. Many dragons who fear encountering humans try to appeal to them by communicating with them during sleep, but only when the humans look into a dragons eyes while they communicate does the awakening process occur. Of course, for each human this happens differently. Since human hearts have become more guarded and stubborn, the pace of awakening can be altered.
Jorvik is a bustling, viking port village located on the edge of a vast island. Two mountains on either side create a barrier around it, though between them is the only way for the inhabitants to explore further inland.
With lush forests, flowing rivers, cascading waterfalls, tumbling rock formations and a vast ocean surrounding the island, there is much to explore.
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Posted: Sun Dec 19, 2010 11:36 pm
↟ Character Sheets ↟
Vikings [size=10][b]Username:[/b]
[b]Name:[/b]
[b]Gender:[/b]
[b]Age:[/b] (Stay in the 12-18 range, please. I may allow one character over or under, but not by too much.)
[b]Appearance:[/b] (Pictures must be drawings and in link form, but are optional. They must be accompanied by a description: 2+ paragraphs without a picture, 1+ with a picture.)
[b]Personality:[/b] (2+ paragraphs, please!)
[b]Abilities:[/b] (Are they fast, strong, agile, flexible, quick-thinking?)
[b]Weapon(s):[/b] (Be at least slightly realistic...)
[b]Likes:[/b] (List form)
[b]Dislikes:[/b] (List form)
[b]Other Info:[/b] (Anything else?)[/size]
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Posted: Sun Dec 19, 2010 11:39 pm
↟ Vikings ↟ Username: Mr. Eccentricity
Name: Ketill Arnulf
Gender: Male
Age: 13
Appearance: [Ketill] is small, skinny, and lithe. He prefers loose-fitting clothing and will often be seen wearing greens or browns, the colors of the earth upon which he runs freely. Unless forced, he will never wear shoes. His eyes are the color of the sky on a perfect day, and his hair is long, black, and never bound. He is covered with scrapes and bruises from exploring, though none are serious cuts. The only major scar he has is on his upper leg from when a practical joke went awry.
Personality: Ketill is a free spirit, never to be tied down by any man, though he would never hurt another to further his own goals. He enjoys the good practical joke and will often go out of his way to perform pranks on friends and enemies alike. His flute, which he carries with him at all times, channels his spirit.
The wind is his god, and music is his mistress. He has many friends in the community, though the elders and tradition-oriented folk often disapprove of his ways of rebellion and general mischief. His naivety and priority on enjoyment may be why the majority of his friends to be younger than he. However, his naivety may prove to be to his misfortune.
Abilities: His wit and cunning are unmatched by most, even those older than he. Though his strength and skill with weapons are lacking, he makes up for it in speed and agility in the few battles he partakes in out of necessity.
Weapon(s): What he prefers to use is a simple wooden staff, carried on his back in battle. But if he ever needed to kill, he carries a simple blue dagger that would do the job. What no one knows is that the dagger was given to him by his uncle, who was cast from the family after telling stories of truth-telling, peaceful dragons.
Likes: music
singing
dancing
stories
jokes
swimming
Dislikes: laws
order
unjust acts of violence
confinement
shoes
tradition
Other Info: Ketill has always looked up to his uncle, even after the man was cast out from the family. Recently, he has been more curious than ever about the truth, if there is any, behind his uncle’s stories. Now all he wants is a clue, hint, or some form of proof that the stories are true, and he would pursue that truth. But what are the chances of that happening?Username: Thaedrian
Name: Vár
Gender: Female
Age: 14
Appearance: Vár is tall for a female and at near six foot stands head over shoulders over many of her peers. She is fair skinned; so pale as to match the fresh fallen snow in purity. Her hair is a shocking red in contrast, cropped short to the skull in the back and left long in the front to fall across heavy-lidded eyes the color of spring shoots. She is considered to be quite beautiful despite the scar marring the left side of her face. The faint red line begins at her temple and descends out past the edge of her eye terminating just past her cheekbone. Her clothing comes in somber colors such as gray or black with some accents of white and brown. The single notable exception is a long piece of dyed cloth she wraps around her head in the winter months for warmth and protection. It is so dark a red as to appear black. Two small hoops of gold adorn each earlobe in a subtle show of wealth that is required of her. No other adornment will she wear.
Personality: Vár is often quiet, preferring to watch and listen to get a sense for the tide of things before saying anything if speaking at all. She is slow to trust, slower to trust boys and even more so men for the "lessons" taught to her by a father and elder brother unnerved by her strange ways. Once her trust is given, she is steadfastly loyal. Vár is a mothering sort who worries after kith and kin alike, often acting in the capacity of a caretaker. She is a dreamer who often ponders questions not thought of as she attends her daily chores. When asked a question, she will answer bluntly, which has earned her some grief in the past. Honesty is not her virtue, it is merely unthinking nature. Vár is a lover of stories, no matter how great or small, but especially of the jötunn and of the trickster Loki who is her patron god as declared by her mother.
Abilities: Vár is strong from her work in her father's forge working the bellows, cutting and cording word and carrying it from the wood pile to the forge to lay in the fire. She has a memory for tales and has learned to pass unnoticed and to be unobtrusive so as to learn things when others forget her prescence.
Weapon(s): Vár has never been taught to use any sort of weapon, choosing only to carry a belt knife more like to be used to cut bread for a meal than used in defense. If ever she choose a weapon it would be from the tools of the forge for as a child she watch her father shape the world with them.
Likes: Stories
Evening
Sweet things
Dreaming
Riding in the hills
Dislikes: Elder Brother
"Bad endings"
Sickness
Over-familiarity
Spiders
Other Info: Her mother regards Vár as her revenge against her husband for scorning her right to raise her children with the fear of the gods. As a killer of dragons, Jormund believes himself above the need of the gods. When Vár was born, Eir declared her Loki's child for her hair was the color of flame where her mother's was nearly golden and her father's a dark brown. For all that she might well have been a b*****d child, Jormund raised her as his own, strangeness and all. Vár, for her part, is in awe of her father and accords him rather more respect than her mother would like.Username: blurred_dreams
Name: Brynja
Gender: Female
Age: 16
Appearance: She is rather tall for a girl her age, and slender, though she has all the curves of a full-grown woman. Her father, a successful merchant, says Brynja gets all her looks from her mother. Her waist-length blonde hair that she usually keeps in a loose braid; her smooth skin with just a touch of sun; and her deep blue eyes that sometimes light up with a joy from within. However, Brynja’s features are not so soft as they once were. Her face and body have been chiseled with years of helping her father at home and with his work. From chores like gathering food and mending clothing to packing her father’s ships, though she is not allowed to go on voyages, she has gained strength in her limbs.
Being the lady of her house, Brynja is made to wear long dresses, usually of dyed wools, though her father occasionally brings her something special from the corners of the world if they can afford it. Silver, gold, and copper adorn her ears, fingers, arms, and hang about her neck. Though she loves getting these gifts, she often curses her skirts and would rather don some breeches, a thick tunic, and a solid pair of boots like when she helps her father on board. It seems more sensible to her than tripping over and ripping the long fabric while one is always active.
Personality: Since her mother died during the birth of her younger brother, Brynja has had to learn to become woman early in life. With two siblings to look after and her father constantly at sea, there is rarely a spare moment to have to herself. She is responsible for cleaning and cooking and sewing and ensuring that her sister and brother, now 14 and 10, stay out of trouble. Taking no nonsense, she puts the both of them to work gathering for meals and keeping the animals.
Brynja takes command of whatever situation she is in, making her seem bossy to others on occasion. Although she likes to have her own way, she can be easily reasoned with logically. The world is a series of paths and choices, with consequences to each in her eyes. She is very goal-oriented, adverse to any distractions such as silly children’s tales; as much as she enjoyed them when told by her mother, they are now only false hopes, misleading young minds to daydream instead of keeping their chores. She may act as a tough grown-up the majority of the time, but Brynja knows when her siblings are upset and need her to be gentle and understanding. She is, after all, still a child just like they are.
Abilities: Thinking on her feet is something she must do often, to keep one step ahead of her siblings and on track with her father’s business. She prides herself on being a leader, which she hopes one day will land her at the bow of her father’s ship, taking over his trade.
Weapon(s): For the few short journeys she has gone on with her father, he has taught her to use a bow quite well. She is not at all strong enough to lift the swords or axes he uses, but she carries a dagger or two hidden just in case.
Likes:
her family
being busy
the sea
gifts
comfortable clothes
Dislikes:
fantasies
laziness
messes
being sad
feeling helpless
Other Info: Although she doesn’t like hearing the old stories her mother would tell her, about the gods and myth, she still keeps them in her heart. After a long day’s work, right before Brynja drifts to sleep, she hears her mother’s voice again, reciting ancient tales when magic was real…Username: Steel Alice
Name: Jak Thorn
Gender: Male
Age: 17
Appearance: Jak* is approximately 6'5'', retains a slim build, has naturally dark blue hair, icy blue-white eyes, and not a single blemish on his pale skin. (It is said that he was run over by an ox-cart once, and simply stood up, brushed himself off, scolded the driver and walked away entirely unscathed.) He also never wears a pleasant expression upon his face. Jak either appears to be deep in thought or entirely irritated with something/someone. (Whether or not his face relaxes into a more peaceful expression while he is sleeping is unknown, nobody has been brave enough to look.) He prefers slim fitting clothing, generally consisting of a long sleeved shirt with cuffs, vest over top, straight-legged pants which are always neatly tucked into his knee-high black, dragon-hide boots.
Personality: The best way to describe Jak is the word "frozen". For reasons unknown to most he shuts the majority of himself away within and therefore appears to be cold-hearted, or mean. When he does laugh or smile it usually seems full of spite, when in reality that was his best try at being friendly. Not to say that he is entirely an angel locked away, Jak is by all means a self-righteous, jerk most of the time.
This usually doesn't cause problems for very many people though because of Jak's chosen profession. He is the self-proclaimed librarian of the Jorvik village. and seeing as most vikings barely knwo how to read, he doesn't get bothered much. His "library" is a fairly large home tucked back against one of the larger hills of the island (far from the reach of scavenging dragons). He has a few hundred books in his collection and he's read every single one of them, which is far more than the average viking can claim. Jak often uses this against people and often ridicules his fellow villagers for being so "unlearned".
Abilities: Jak his like a mobile version of his library, his head is full of knowledge. Despite what most people think he is also very curious and witty.
Weapon(s): A pen. (He's a librarian! He doesn't fight dragons!)
Likes: Books
Snow
Paper
Silence
Pens
Hot tea
Dislikes: People
Females
Noise
Stupidity
Other Info: *Jak = Jacob, in an alternate universe. Both characters are entirely mine.Username: Heartless901
Name: Magni Sakaarson
Gender: Male
Age: 17
Appearance: Standing at a good 5' 10, he may not be the tallest of the vikings, but he certainly is among the battleworthy. Fit but with a slight belly, scruffy shortened hair, and infamous for his often slightly scraggly facial hair. His face is one of a charming youth, giving off a radiance that attracts many to him, along with the Odin-blessed voice he possesses.
Often wearing simple earthen garb and only the basic chainmail and pauldrons; he dresses optimally for everyday life, either hunting the local wildlife, or fighting among his fellow peers. His tunic is a simple evergreen, covered by the gray chainmail, while he wears brown trousers that funnel into a pair of tanned leather boots. He wears a similarly colored pair of inscribed vambraces that cover his forearms, relaying the tale of the Lost Bard, a story his father used to tell him.
Personality: Charming and silver tongued, he is known as the up-and-coming village bard. Both abilities learned from his father, the current village bard. He had only lived in the village for less than three years, and many have accepted him as a member of the family. He fights with a strong arm and quick legs, making use of bard's tactics: Strike true, Strike Hard, Never be struck.
When around his peers, he is a fun-loving, ever inspiring young man driven and cursed by his own emotions. He wears his emotions on his sleeve like a badge of honor, and can similarly be extremely empathetic to anyone. However, it also wounds him, seeing as after his mother died, he frequents the forest for hours at a time, finding solace in music rather than people. His mother was always a touchy subject, and he was last seen nearly maiming the one who insulted his mother's honor. Many assume that it is the balance that causes this, like the two masks of drama. Tragedy and Comedy.
Abilities: Using his gifted voice, he raises the morale of his comrades by singing warsongs that invigorate and motivate, along with a well-trained single blade style that could be supplemented by a shield.
Weapon(s): He carries a modified sword named "Starfang", curved and sharpened on one side, used mostly for fluid slices and chops. The blade itself is slightly shorter than most of the classic weapons, and while it lacks the standard range, it allows one to wield it much faster, creating sweeping arcs and a quicker fighting style. It was forged especially for his use, crafted from a rare ore that fell from the heavens that he and his father found several years before his arrival.
Likes:
-Singing,
-Playing his Lute
-Lounging around
-Sleeping
-Entertaining people
Dislikes:
-Snapped Lutestrings
-Ordinary People
-Undercooked food
-Falling from high distances
-Being alone for extended periods of time
Other Info: Anywhere you find Magni, you find him with his aptly-named Knapsack of wonders. Besides being a stylish one-strapped backpack, it holds many of his daily items, such as his lute, his pad of paper and a charcoal pencil. Bit of a pack rat, many think, but ultimately useful. Aside from that, his sword is kept at his side, sheathed and strapped to the back of his belt, ready for use. However, the shield is rarely with him, only added when there is some sort of need.Username: Skunk Blossoms
Name: Finna
Gender: Female
Age: Seven
Appearance: Finna is, well, a small girl. Standing at about four feet and weighing about eighty pounds, she isn't the mightiest of the bunch. She has medium-length, blond hair that hangs below her shoulders. The locks are usually tangled and unruly, but occasionally can be seen in a messy braid. Her bangs, which seem to have been cut by herself, hang just above her mismatched eyes; one blue and the other brown. Finna's nose is turned up and covered in freckles, like her cheeks, and she has a small, cute mouth that is usually wearing a smile, though she is missing a tooth or two...
Like the other vikings, Finna can most often be seen in a leather tunic, though instead of long pants, she wears thick leggings and a shallow skirt. Her feet are adorned with thick, fur-covered boots, and her wrists often are accompanied by leather or fur bracers. Due to her age, Finna isn't quite able to wear any chain male, armor, or helmets, so she makes due without.
Personality: Sweet, adorable and innocent are three words that most people would think when they encounter Finna, but in reality she's just a little monster. Of course, being the little spit-fire that she is, she uses everyone's perceptions of her to her advantage, acting sugary sweet around the elders, and then as soon as they turn around causing as much turmoil as a seven year-old can. It doesn't help that her father finds her antics completely amusing, and with his laughter encourages her to act that way.
For a child, she acts pretty tough. In fact, she shows as much bravery as the older vikings in the village, and when anyone questions this trait, she instantly sees it as a challenge and goes great lengths to ensure that people see that she isn't simply a useless child. Yet, although she thinks this way, she is still only seven, and there are situations when her emotions get the best of her. Of course, many may not realize it, because it is quite rare that she will speak openly.
Abilities: Finna has this knack for tackling and wrapping her little limbs tightly around objects (table legs, rocks, legs...), and she absolutely loves wrestling. She likes to do the same type of thing with her teeth as well, so be warned.
Weapon(s): Finna's mother insists that she carry around a small slingshot, and although Finna usually refuses to do so, her mother attaches it to the back of her belts. Otherwise, Finna prefers using her canines...
Likes:
+ Gnawing, Chewing, Biting...
+ Wrestling
+ Collecting rocks
+ Adventures
+ Father's laughter
Dislikes:
+ Barriers
+ Being told she is too small or weak
+ Water
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Posted: Sun Dec 19, 2010 11:41 pm
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Posted: Sun Dec 19, 2010 11:46 pm
↟ Status ↟
Under construction, as of 12/20/10
Accepting profiles, as of 12/20/10
Opened, as of 2/13/11!
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Posted: Mon Dec 20, 2010 12:10 pm
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Posted: Mon Dec 20, 2010 12:10 pm
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Posted: Mon Dec 20, 2010 12:13 pm
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Posted: Sat Feb 12, 2011 11:08 pm
As the sun lowered below the horizon, the darkness of twilight bestowed itself on the village of Jorvik. Unlike most villages that fell quiet at this hour, this rambunctious town was becoming it's most lively. The bakery had closed, the sheep were being herded and the mothers were putting down the youngest ones for sleep. The men and women without such obligations were arming themselves for the darkness to come. Horned helmets, chain mail and leather were being sported, while the blacksmith sharpened the weapons in his shop for the recreation that was to come. Yes, it was a delightfully busy night; such was every night in the anything but peaceful village.
Of course, for the so unfortunate ones who could not participate in the... festivities of the night, things happened to be a bit bland. As it was for the young viking girl, Finna, who, only seven years old, was being put to bed by her mother. ”Down you go, Finna, don't put up a fuss,” her mother said as she wrestled the small girl into her fur-cloaked nest, ”You already got out of your weekly bath, and I won't have you running about the house alone at this hour, so sleep,” she insisted as Finna's little limbs stopped their rapid movements and gave in to her mother's commands, though the stubborn unhappiness showed easily through her expression. Her mother, like all of the other vikings, would soon hurry to join the preparations, for all who were strong enough to cleave a sword or an axe, or even throw a bucket of water, were needed to fend off the dreaded dragons. ”Thank you, child,” she sighed, and with a quick pat on her daughters head, she left the small quarters without another word.
A heavy sigh left Finna's mouth as she turned over in her bed, arms crossed as though Odin would look down and see her displeasure. She hated not being able to take part in protecting her village from the fire-breathing beasts. She only wanted to be able to help her father and make him proud, but whenever she pleaded to stay out at night she was quickly shot down with the age old excuse “You're much too young.” Out of her bedroom window she could clearly hear the battle cry of a group of large-bellied vikings. Sitting up in her bed she crawled over to the sill and looked out, longing in her mismatched eyes, 'Not this time,' she thought as a determined spark gleamed in her eyes, 'I'm not missing out this time...'
Outside everyone ran about, gathering weapons, readying each others' spirits with song and banter and prayer. Although it seemed almost jubilant, the festivities would soon be ending, though the sport was rearing its head. The sky darkened and with it came the nearing sound of wings thrashing through the wind. The dreaded dragons would arrive soon, and this viking village was ready for the showdown.
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Posted: Sun Feb 13, 2011 7:44 pm
The fire blazed as Vár pushed down on the bellows letting her weight do most of the work. Regardless she was dripping sweat and getting a bit breathless. In a moment one of her brothers would take over and she would return to tending the fire inside and helping her father with the more basic work. She worked steadily for a few more minutes then started to flag. A cool hand touched her cheek and she stepped back with a short nod. Pausing a moment, she watched as Enrik took over the bellows work. He was her favorite brother of the four and the only one who would spare such kindness for her when the dragons were about to attack. Shaking off the sudden wave of melancholy, she returned to her work.
Wood was stacked high, the fire kept fed, and innumerable swords, spears, and axes repaired, sharpened and handed off to waiting hands. Vár could hear the sounds of the beasts now. Soon her father and brothers would leave the forge to go fight with the others as her eldest brother was already doing. Vár weaved her way around her father and her third eldest brother as she carried weapons across the forge and passed them from the fire to her father's waiting hand. When she reached for the next weapon, a heavy hand landed on her shoulder and forcibly steered her out of the forge.
"You do not belong here. Go home."
Forgoth. Glancing back at the smoky interior of the forge, she saw Enrik had his back to her, her father too immersed in his work to notice. And Eiran? Too afraid of his eldest brothers wrath to do anything.Pulling herself free, she turned and left. She would bend to him in this but she would not go home. She was needed as was every other able bodied person in the village. Perhaps if her brother could see that... or just be carried off one night by dragons so she would not have to put up with him any longer.
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Posted: Sun Feb 13, 2011 11:32 pm
The old house creaked as the strong wind came down off the hills, but other than this usual noise, Jak's home was far more peaceful than the village below. He was fully aware that his fellow villagers were preparing to fend off the beastly invaders, but this was not a matter he concerned himself with. His current problem in fact was that he had forgotten something.
His brow was deeply furrowed and his cold eyes flicked from the empty space on the bookshelf to the hallway that would lead him out of his home, the cogs of his mind whirring. Inside there marched a parade of horrors, as he watched his precious book get incinerated by flames, fall to the earth to be crushed and torn apart by either of the beasts, dragons and vikings alike. This particular piece of his collection was not rare, but getting any books delivered here was always a great ordeal.
This time his gaze fell upon the small lantern on his desk, and he stared into the tiny flame. He was always so cautious not to arouse the dragon's curiosity by letting his windows glow like a beacon, but if he ventured down into the village at this time there would be no avoiding the beasts. But his book, that valuable tome, would not survive a night with the dragons alone.
He pushes himself away from his desk and begins to think on his feet. He would need to be swift, Jak was not a fighter. His only option was to hope the volume was still where he left it at the docks earlier that afternoon, so he could make straight for it, secure it, and hightail it back home.
He grabs his old leather satchel and empties it out, he wouldn't need his pens and tablets for this rescue mission, just a safe place to stow the book for the journey on the way back. He secures it to his waist and pauses a moment, mind spinning again. If, on the off chance he encountered any obstacle, a weapon of some variety could mean escape and barbecued librarian. The old walking staff by the door? Perfect. A coat? No time. Jak simply tightens his cuffs and boots and then bolts for the door. He grabs the walking stick as he spins out the door and begins to sprint down the trail leading down to the village. The sun has disappeared from the horizon, but his feet knew the path too well. Jak was not a fighter, but he was without a doubt, a runner.
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Posted: Wed Feb 16, 2011 8:46 pm
It had been another long day. And the most arduous work was only just beginning. Brynja swept the hair that had fallen astray from her long braid out of her face. The blonde cord swished one way and another as her bright eyes scanned the darkening yard. Everything seemed to be in order; the animals were all safely in and fed, the tools put away, the grain stored. Ticking off the list in her mind, the blue-eyed teen headed up a small hill to her home, thankful her father was away so she could get away with wearing pants instead of a blasted dress.
The echoing sound of her neighbor's shouts deadened as the heavy oak door closed behind her. The warm smell of burning wood instantly filled her nose, the fire was roaring heartily in the hearth. Laying gracefully before that fire was another girl, younger, but with the same striking blonde hair. It was tied back much neater, and this girl's eyes were captivated by her necklace. Brynja's sister was again admiring her latest present from father. There was something missing though...
"Adelis, where's Gunnar?"
The younger girl looked up as if she had not heard Brynja enter. Looking only mildly surprised, she shrugged after a quick glance about the small house. Brynja's temper flared at the irresponsibility she was all too familiar with, though she decided a tongue lashing would be better for later; her youngest sibling needed to be collected first.
What he thought by sneaking out she would never understand. He would only get hurt if he stayed out this late. But as the eldest, it fell to Brynja to ensure his safety, no matter how many times before she had done this. Once again, the heavy oak door shut behind her, this time her fellow's yelling much louder as the sky turned a deep blue. She would find him and send him straight back home, then go to see where she could help. It was already much too late... Quickening her pace, Brynja hoped Gunnar had already been caught.
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