Stig
Artisan
Stig heard a caravan would be leaving for Calenhelm soon, but he wishes to travel alone for now and on a different path.
"Much happen last days. Need go to Vintnersedge. Need know more of rumor vhat Cro...." he pauses
"..Rothmound.. hear from northman dat was in town. But first go see Tree lady and Crystal magics man. Dem say if need help can ask."
As Stig makes his way to the gates of parsons breach he stop and takes a long look the fire where they had made Rothmound's funeral pyre. He slowly walks to the fire, just embers burning now. He falls to his knees and stares at the ashes.
"Rockholm say need blessed berial fer veavers *spitew* to mist with bullsh*t southern vays. Rothmund Northman! Go to mist as Northmen!"
Stig then takes out Crows ash horn that he kept from his belongings, pours out they remaining ash and then fills it back up with the ash of his cousins pyre. He looks down to see its a more white ash then the usual black.
"Roth makes good ash."
A smile almost peaks out the side of his mouth as Stig puts the ash horn back to his side
"No need go find Roth now ever. Always gunna be by Stigs side now. Be bringing home soon."
Stig stands with a blank look on his face wich slowly turns to a scowl. He reaches back and unsheaths his saex, then runs it across the top of his head and down the back, his hairs are carried away by the winter breeze.
"No more warrior steipe. No deserving yet"
With that he heads to the gates and the long road ahead of him with many stops and questions.
"Much happen last days. Need go to Vintnersedge. Need know more of rumor vhat Cro...." he pauses
"..Rothmound.. hear from northman dat was in town. But first go see Tree lady and Crystal magics man. Dem say if need help can ask."
As Stig makes his way to the gates of parsons breach he stop and takes a long look the fire where they had made Rothmound's funeral pyre. He slowly walks to the fire, just embers burning now. He falls to his knees and stares at the ashes.
"Rockholm say need blessed berial fer veavers *spitew* to mist with bullsh*t southern vays. Rothmund Northman! Go to mist as Northmen!"
Stig then takes out Crows ash horn that he kept from his belongings, pours out they remaining ash and then fills it back up with the ash of his cousins pyre. He looks down to see its a more white ash then the usual black.
"Roth makes good ash."
A smile almost peaks out the side of his mouth as Stig puts the ash horn back to his side
"No need go find Roth now ever. Always gunna be by Stigs side now. Be bringing home soon."
Stig stands with a blank look on his face wich slowly turns to a scowl. He reaches back and unsheaths his saex, then runs it across the top of his head and down the back, his hairs are carried away by the winter breeze.
"No more warrior steipe. No deserving yet"
With that he heads to the gates and the long road ahead of him with many stops and questions.