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Tyr, the Lost

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Tyr, the Lost

Post by Tyr on Thu Jun 11, 2015 9:59 pm


Name: Tyr
 Age: 17
 Origin: Northern Hills
 Gender: Male
 Deity: TBA
 Sexual Orientation: Straight, Homophobic towards sexual interest at him.
 Race: Human
 Background/History:
       A child born into the world to suffer the death of his mother and father moments after. The child was taken in by a loving caretaker among the hidden reaches of the Northern Hills. In a far off cottage the child was raised by a woman named Akeil, who took care of the child named Tyr. Akeil was as loving and caring as if Tyr was her own child, Tyr grew up a healthy lifestyle doing work around the cottage. Due to this lifestyle, he became a fit young man capable of several featsof physical strength. Sadly, this helped Tyr survive when he was 15, forced awake by a panicked Akeil. "Tyr, honey, you have to hide under the cottage, okay?" He did as he was told and ran outside and without looking at his surroundings slid under the cottage.
      Horses clopped down the side of the road, passing by were a group of around 25 men. They all seemed peaceful enough except for the considerable amount of weaponry they held. It was strange as soon as those horses stopped infront of the cottage, Tyr's heart did the same. They sloppily left their horses and slowly walked up the steps of the cottage. Tyr moved closer to the center of the home to hear what was happening. He tried to hold back the sobs as he heard the door bust in, and Akeil scream. It lasted several hours. Her screaming slowly made Tyr numb, he was out of tears, he felt numb, empty, he slowly felt himself descend into a self loathing sleep when he heard Akeil begin to laugh. He jolted awake, this wasn't right, obviously he was hearing things of course. She laughed harder and harder, then Tyr's heart went into his stomach as soon as he heard those words loud and clear. Through her screams of pain he could hear: "He's under the cottage, you can have him, just leave this place, he'd be an exellent slave..."
      Everything went silent, the sounds of two men walking out of the house and dragging him from under the house fell into to deaf ears. He just felt...numb? Tunnel vision cursed his sight as he looked on, he didn't wanna believe what was happening. Several stings of pain flew throughout his body but he just kept looking on, it didn't feel real, he wanted to wake up. Everything slowly zoomed back into reality when the cloth torn mother figure fell infront of him. Tears poured from his eyes as he looked at her. He couldn't tell if this was the woman that had raised him for his life was infront of him or not, she just wasn't completely there. She had a dreamy look in her eye as she smiled, bruises tainted the once loving and warm smile that he remembered. One eye was pushed in considerable compared to the other. "Take him, I don't want him, just let me live please, I have no need for...it." She said with a confident tone to her voice. Tyr let out a small cry trying to retaliate from whatever this was. Ignorance held Tyr's mind, not completely understanding the situation as he should've at this moment. "M-Mother why are you doing this?" Tyr sobbed. This transition was halted by the kick delivered by the leaders face to Tyr's skull, he laid there sobbing dryly. Why didn't I run away? He screeched through his mind. "Stand up." The leader said. Tyr took a moment too long to comply, a stomp slammed into his hip and Tyr was quick to half hazardly throw himself up into a standing position looking at the mess of a person before him. There was a few laughs behind Tyr, he tried to turn and see what was making them laugh but was only smacked back into watching the broken bond between caretaker and child.
    Akeil looked up at everyone around her in a nonchalant way. "Business is done here, right boys?" She said in a hysterical tone. "Kharn, what're we gonna do here?" a slightly overweight man said by what was presumably his horse. The leaders head turned to him, then to Tyr, and then he walked to the man. Tyr took a moment to reflect on everything, what was happening, how could this of happpened, what made this happen to Akeil. How fragile was she? The leader known as Kharn walked back to Tyr at this point. He looked down at him, and smirked. "Put him and her on different horses, 4 stay behind and take this place, everything that has value is ours now." Tyr was too tired to fight back, he had his hands tied behind his back and set him carefully on the horse. He watched as they simply just threw Akeil over the back of the horse. The troubles of what they'd do to her...no, what they've already done to her troubled his mind the entire time to the way there. On the trip, he eventually fell into a deep sleep, with hopes of waking up to a new scene of the happiness of his caretaker.
     It wasn't the case. Tyr woke up to darkness, the small crack of a door caught his sight, slowly he adjusted into the lighting. He was in a small cabin room, with dressers and a small cushion for a bed. Slowly he stood, almost tripping over himself. He moved to the door and stopped right infront of it, his eyes widened as he realized what was happening before he got here. He ripped open the door and was met with the angry outcry of several of the bandits. He screamed and angrily tried to punch several of them in a blind rage but was left too weak to even come close to being a match for these ment. "GET THE BOY UNDER CONTROL HE'S STARTING TO MAKE A RUCKUS IN HERE." Said one of the men as another grabbed Tyr. A voice stung like a bee to Tyr across the room. "Gods damn, boy, you best behave or something might happen to our guest of honor." Kharn smiled. "Best not get restless, she's watching." Tyr was trying to look at Kharn, but was horrified to see the other sight beside him. Akeil was tied to the side of the wall, where a fence-like part of a stairway was set unmoving. Her eyes were glazed over and she looked unrecognizably at Tyr. He looked around gathering everything infront of him. Another group of men looked disgusted at the site before them. "Now." Kharn said grunting standing up. "I would like to present to you gentlemen our tools that will help you win your internal disputes." Another man stepped forward, he was oddly dressed, his armor seemed to mark him as a soldier but he had an aura of authority. "What in the gods names is this, Kharn?" The man declared angrily. Kharn smiled. "It's but a test of weaponry, don't worry, I guarantee the boy will survive." The armored man was beginning to protest about Akeil but was stopped midsentence by Kharn grabbing one of his tools. The exotic blade had a certain curve to it, not long enough to be a weapon on the battlefield, more of a torture device. The curve on it made it look like a sickle but with the blade facing horizontal instead of vertical. Kharn placed it just below Akeils shoulder blades. Without even thinking he twisted it upward, letting out a sick splurt of flesh dividing itself from flesh. He repeated the same motion on the other side. Akeil fell forward passing out from shock and simply sat there, loosing blood and quickly going pale. The armored man tried to push through the crowd of the bandits, but was held back by both his men and theirs. Tyr sat there, everything was in pain, there wasn't a need to carry on. He collapsed under himself, the bandits let go as he hit the floor sobbing. Kharn smiled and looked back at the armored man. "And the best part, it makes a pretty angel, don't it?" The armored man was terrified of what he just sat there and watched, unable to do anything. Khan ripped up on the sliced flesh, it bent upwards using the skin as wings resembling an angel. Tyr finally fell out of consciousness. The rest fell into a deep blur.
Tyr woke up to the large amounts of pain in his lower back and legs. Nothing really came to him, it all just sort of faded in and out, as if being plucked and placed back into existence over and over. Slowly it all came back to him, his entire body tensed up and slowly relaxed. A voice of protest made him relax completely. “Relax, child, you are going to tear a muscle.” The woman’s voice echoed over and over, He couldn’t tell where he was, his eyes slowly opened into the painful amounts of light in the room. From what Tyr could see he was in a white tent, the light made him squint. Tyr couldn’t really make out the surroundings, just the bare minimum was enough. Her face seemed equally disgusted and focused, the worried look on my face obviously showed. “Your wounds will close in due time, but you shouldn’t move too much, you might tear the stitches.” She said under her breath, acting as if Tyr was some sort of chore, with how much he has been a ragdoll, he might as well of been.
Tyr nodded his head as she went over the several off putting injuries, but this wasn’t directed at me. She was focused on the man across the room. The not-so-armored man was nodding with an abnormal deformity along his cheek. It seemed to cave inwards and then split, making his face look lopsided in a sense. The man looked extremely handsome for a soldier, this worried Tyr even more. He’d heard of several soldiers taking on slaves known as ‘squires’ who were forced to battle other squires for their soldier’s amusement. He attempted to reenact his performance of being slumped over and unconscious but to no avail, the nurse had already given away his consciousness. “Quit fakin’, lad, we already know what yer doin’” The man said with an extremely strong accent, after deciphering what the mysterious man had said, Tyr slowly stood. He never could make out the details of this man, he just sort of blended in with the crowd. “W-Who are you?” Tyr said cautiously, almost falling over the table he was operated on. This caused a considerable amount of Tyr’s blood to spill on the floor from the table, making him want to vomit at the sight of so much of his blood, but he pressed on, having seen more frightful things. The man shifted uncomfortably. “I’m Fenrir, sargent of...whatever you would call this, a militia perhaps?” He said uncertainly, looking off in the distance. “Where is Akeil… Did you help her?” Tyr said, the knot in his throat already formed from knowing the answer. Fenrir nodded, not looking Tyr in the eye. “She’s gone, nothing could’ve helped...She’s already received her burial…” Tyr looked down, knowing that he would never ever see her again, it was silly to think badly of her. She was broken inside, only doing her bare instincts to stay alive...giving up her very own…
Fenrir gave Tyr all the time he needed to respond, showing no signs of impatience. “What am I going to do now…” Tyr said, looking at Fenrir. “I don’t want to be your squire!” Tyr said in a scared tone. Fenrir rose an eyebrow. “Squire? I’m no knight, child. What is your name?” He said already surveying Tyr’s body type. “There’s no need for names if you would send me off, what are you going to do?” Tyr said in a half-shouting tone. Fenrir just mumbled to himself in a low tone. “Tell me, do you know your way around a sword?” He said declaratively, finally the nurse stepped in. “That boy is not playing any part in your ‘war’ game, you understand?” The tone she used would be the equivalent to thunder cracking through the peaceful night sky. Tyr shivered at the tone of her voice and looked at Fenrir instinctively for some sort of support against her. Fenrir shook his head. “Aye, but he should be able to hold one.” He said eyes slightly glazed over at her, not really focusing on any detail. After a few mutters and a bit of bickering, the two slowly came to the agreement looking into Fenrir’s favor. Tyr slowly grew worried “What makes me want to work for you?” The halfhearted laugh fell from Fenrir. “Work for me? You think you’d be good enough?” He snarled with a challenge in his eyes. Tyr fell straight into this trap, letting his blind fury for the loss of Akeil take control. “Fine, I’ll grab whatever sword you hand me and beat your ass up and down this trash settlement!” Tyr said setting his clothes onto himself jaggedly and firmly. Fenrir just sat there, waiting for him to be done before leading him outside.
The word settlement was more of an understatement, more of a fort. Several tents scattered the entire set of plains as Tyr walked through, a sense of wonder flew through everyone’s eyes looking at the child. He felt uncomfortable following Fenrir, like following an executioner to the block, but he remained headstrong, feeling the rage course through him. Finally they reached the other end of the post, several people following the two, whispering amongst each other. Fenrir stopped Tyr in his tracks. “Stay here, I’ll go fetch the practice blades.” He said walking in the tent talking casually to the blacksmith as he walked in. Tyr held his ear to the tent, ignoring the people asking questions about who the hell he is. He could make out the blacksmiths name, Brokkr. This was all he could really find out about him, he seemed to be loud with his accent, casually throwing the words out sometimes slurring them. He seemed proud of his work though, hearing the clang on clang of metal and screaming. “AYE JUST RIGHT!” Just loud enough to startle Tyr. He stepped back and Fenrir came out with an ungodly large sword and what seemed to be a two-handed broadsword. Tyr gulped and reached for the broadsword, when Fenrir’s hand snatched it out of it’s direction. “What do you think yer doin?” He smiled. “You're gettin this one.” He smirked handing Tyr the gigantic blade. Tyr felt himself crumbling under the weight and looked around at the others.
They seemed just as worried as Tyr was. Frowns and people leaving, an obvious displease as they know who the winner will be. The set that stayed though seemed fairly intrigued and moved with Tyr and Fenrir when they got into the battle ring. Tyr did a few test swings and Fenrir let out a small laugh. He’s doubting me, Tyr let the thought take his mind as rage seemed to envelope him more. He began swinging it normally and fluidly, the pops and strains of his muscles seemed to groan under the force of the blade. Unbalanced and completely out of his range of weight for a blade. Fenrir tossed his blade in his hands over and over in one hand, feeling the weight and nodding, turning towards Tyr and smiling. Tyr felt nervous, enough to wretch, yet he held his ground, he thought of Akeil, and it fueled towards his fire more and more every single time he thought about her. He lifted the blade, and rested it against his hip reserving as much energy as possible. He sat and remained there. “Are ya ready?” Fenrir snarled. Tyr nodded, as ready as he ever could be. Fenrir twirled his blade twice and charged Tyr. Everything just happened instinctively. Tyr brought his blade up and Fenrir’s blade attempted to stop it from raising, this failed greatly as he had to sidestep to stop from being hit by it. Tyr then slammed the blade in a downward arc working completely in gravity. Fenrir made an attempt to block it but he then panicked as the sword began to crack under pressure. It was made of wood, which shouldn’t be surprising, but it seemed sturdy enough to take a hit like this without trouble. With it cracking Fenrir switched awkwardly from a block to a half-assed parry and attempted to stab at Tyr. At this point Tyr slammed his blade into the ground and used it as a pivot to throw himself out of the way and took the blade out of the way with him. Fenrir fell off balance and Tyr used this to the best of his abilities and swung from the side sloppily at Fenrir’s ankles, this succeeded and Fenrir fell to his hands and knees, his blade broke under the pressure of his body weight being thrown behind it.
At this point Tyr had him at blade point, yet Fenrir smiled, grabbing the blade. Tyr made an attempt to pull the blade away but it was halted in place. Fenrir turned towards Tyr and grinned as he pulled it away from him and flipped it in the air and caught it as if nothing. Tyr fell onto his hands and knees and looked up at the phenomenon that had bested him. Fenrir held the blade to Tyr’s throat. “Good duel, child.” He barked. Tyr swore he saw the red in his eyes as he laughed to himself. “You are a fighter, I’ll give you that, but there is still room for improvement. Tyr couldn’t believe the feat of strength he had just witnessed. Fenrir helped him up and patted him on the back, looking up at the crowd that had gathered. “Tell me your name, and learn from us. Fight with us, we will help you grow strong.” Fenrir said declaring Tyr’s membership amongst the group. “Tyr.” He said “My name is Tyr.” Fenrir grinned and raised Tyr’s hand. “For the wolves!” The rest began a cheer for the newest member. Tyr felt off, he didn’t know what Fenrir had done, nor did he really like it. Yet he felt uncomfortable mentioning it or even thinking about it, letting it slide. He moved with the group receiving several pats on the back and an odd sight. The short man with extremely tan and weatherbeaten skin Tyr could only assume as Brokkr. He sat there with a serious and offended look on his face, he turned towards Tyr and seeing him scanned the crowd. “WHERE IS HE” Brokkr yelled angrily. “WHERE IS YOUR FILTHY CHEAT LEADER!” He barked. Fenrir’s face went pale as he walked forward. “E-er...yeah Brokkr?” He seemed to be terrified of Brokkr, almost petrified. “C’MERE YOU FILTHY LITTLE.” Brokkr’s finger gestured him forward. Fenrir cautiously moved forward as soon as he got in range of grabbing Brokkr grabbed him and picked him up. “YOU SHOULD’VE TOLD ME YOU GOT ME ALL THAT GOLD YOU THIEF, WHERE’D YA GET IT, HUH!?” Fenrir sighed and smiled. “I got it from our battle funds, part of our newest pay, Brokkr.” Brokkr seemed excited and enjoyed. “Aye, keep on doin what yer doin then! I’m makin’ progress on our newest project. Thank ya for yer help lad.” Brokkr said smashing his hand against Fenrir’s back. Fenrir grinned a bit, happily accepted it. Tyr gave a half cocked smile. He didn’t feel any better, in fact he felt jealous of Fenrir, but that didn’t matter. Seeing this before him warmed his heart a little. “Fenrir…” Tyr said feeling a bit better thinking of the possibilities. Fenrir turned, looking slightly downward towards Tyr, smiling carefully, being sure not to offend the child. “Train me, Fenrir, lead me into your battles and social way of life. Teach me everything you know.” Tyr blurted out in a series of three to four words. Fenrir laughed. “Best bring your best battlecry, we have a long way to go.
~This is a timeskip, over this time Tyr has been training, there are a few adventures I WILL be posting of Tyr’s adventures with his adventuring party from the fort. Over time more information was fed to Tyr about the camp. The name of the camp is Warg’s point. Tyr is the age of 17 now and is declared war-ready. This story will be continued later when I can place more effort into it.~

 Personality: Tactful, Difficult to hold a conversation with, Always deep in thought

 Likes: Swordplay, Anything that makes him feel worth something, Tactful play (army planning, scouting managment, ect...)

 Dislikes: Plain acts of jealousy, feeling worthless, letting allies fall around him.
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Tyr

Posts : 19
Join date : 2015-05-31

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Re: Tyr, the Lost

Post by Annabelle on Thu Jun 11, 2015 10:40 pm

Approved.
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Annabelle
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Posts : 369
Join date : 2015-05-17
Age : 21
Location : ...under your bed...

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Deity: Deity of Love, Reiki & Crona
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