Einar Raudulfssen Mon Jul 07, 2014 4:38 pm
Real Name: Joshua Clarke
Age: 23
Viking Name: Einar Raudulfssen
Nationality: Danish
Crafting:Leather Working
Warrior: Seax, Axe, Spear, Sword
Backstory:
My story begins with My father, Raudulf or more well known as The Red Wolf of Denmark, a warrior of renown known from Constantinople all the way to the shores of England. He served the Emperor of Miklagaard with Grimnir Bernardsson in the Varangian Guard, when he returned home I was now 16 years old. Serving our Jarl he made the decision that I would come on the next raid from Denmark into Mercia against the Saxon filth. We traveled the whale roads and made our way across the sea into the green lands of the Saxons and carried out a raid. It was successful and on our way back to our ship we were suprised, not in a good way, there standing on the beach before us what the Saxon Fyrd led by an Eoldorman named Aethulwulf. our numbers were fairly matched and it would have been a fierce battle but when Aethulwulf sent out a challenge of champions my father the Red Wolf accepted, and the two men met in a brutal fight, Aethulwulf was a large man his maille was shining in the light, his helm rimmed in brass and his sword sharp and quick. Pagan and Christian met, and my father fell, I rushed out in my rage and attacked Aethulwulf swinging wildly with little control, and that man laughed and shoved a two handed spear into my hip, I fell cursing to the ground. He refused to kill me telling me he wouldnt take the life of a beardless youth, he threw me my fathers sword and told me to return when I was man. They gave us my fathers body for our pagan rites so he could be burned with a weapon in his hand. They took the treasure and shamed our Jarl and sent us on our way. We buried my father that day, I took his Maille and wargear, his shield and his sword, and we burned him with spear and seax, axe and shields. Returning home the wound began to fester, and many feared I would die, but I rode out the fever and my rage and vengeance kept me breathing, waiting to return to Mercia and kill the man that took my fathers life. Years later when my healing had finished and i had continued to train I shamed our Jarl by calling him a coward for not returning for Vengeance, my Oldest brother Horik who ran our barley farm would not protect me so I left my home in search of adventure. Sailing the Northern seas I went to all manners of strange places fighting in raids or trading or helping a merchant row across the seas. When finally I found my self in England once more, I met Dagaz the Lucky in an inn in Northumbria, we spoke, he heard my tales and sagas but was not yet interested in adding this unknown warrior to the fold of his pack. Luckily for me Grimnir Bernardsson was present and in hearing the story spoke up for me as he had fought with my father many years before. I was accepted into the Sons, and never looked back, as I know one day I will have a chance to kill the man who took my fathers life, and all my brothers will stand with me in the wall that day never will I be more proud.