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Ainvar the Wanderer

One city after another. Wood creaking and wheels rattling on the stones. Cool in spring, sweltering heat in summer, and cold in winter. Rain, sunshine, snowfalls, roadside berries and fresh water from the stream. That's how much I remember of my early childhood years, a to and fro, from caravan to caravan until my parents managed to settle down. A small house, humble and clean, the smell of food and an absent father when they managed to settle in a small village that no longer exists. Running up the hill, and my mother's patience teaching me how to read, numbers, how to behave.

Then the war turned the absent merchant that was my father into an absent soldier. My mother's death, loneliness, and curiosity for an unfathomable world pushed me to go my own way. And now I know that it is freedom itself that spurs me on, the yearning to see, to taste, to experiment, to know and to learn, to live intensely. Ainvar is my name. "He who travels far" its meaning, "the Wanderer" the name by which some know me. 16 years, according to the years of man just an anecdotal fact, a footprint on the path.

Wanderer Ainvar

A Sentimental Value: Lucky Rabbit Foot

The man, with wrinkled and dark skin like old leather, smiled with a strange expression as he ruffled his hair.

- Things can always get a lot worse -he said as he laid a stuffed rabbit's foot in his hand- but we can always put luck on our side. Here. Always carry this, and you'll see that even in the worst of times, something good will turn up.

He was barely eight or nine years old, and he had just broken a small wooden sword that his father had given him before he left. It was the only toy he had, and it had been months since his father had left. He had spent quite a while pouting until the old village tinsmith, Fredrik, came over to comfort him. Since then he had often caressed the silky paw a few times. He no longer believed that luck would magically give him something good for every bad experience he had, but he was comforted by the thought that something better always comes along. From that moment when old Fredrik gave it to him, he had always carried it in his pocket.

Ainvar the Wanderer Post Play & MMORPG RPG Text

Advisor Description

Maybe it hadn't been a good idea to come to the Town. A job will turn up, he kept thinking about it, as if thinking about it would make it happen. Ainvar walked slowly back to the tavern, immersed in these thoughts, after spending the day looking for some steady source of income. He was almost there. The street narrowed there just at the point where another crossed it. Three surly men stood concealed as they waited, tensely. Ainvar did not see them until he passed them. The three watched him pass without much interest.

At the same instant, hurried footsteps approached rapidly, at a run, from one of the perpendicular streets. The men twitched and lunged forward, swords drawn, as soon as a saddle carried by two men rounded the corner. The porters resisted fiercely, while a woman's face peered worriedly from inside the hand-chair.

Ainvar acted instinctively. Seeing that the struggle of the unarmed men was futile.
- Lady, come, for your life! -he said as he offered her his hand. The woman looked, hesitated, saw that it was her only option, and accompanied him on the run to the tavern. Later the notice to the guard, and the lady's house and the escape of the assailants.

He did not know it yet, but the impromptu rescue of Lady Isabella had earned him unknown enemies, but also the woman's gratitude.

Lady Isabella is a 30 year old widowed aristocrat. She possesses striking yet delicate features, with high cheekbones, almond-shaped green eyes, and cascading chestnut waves of hair. Her regal bearing exudes quiet confidence, complemented by a slender yet graceful figure.

Wanderer Ainvar

The Resurrection of Ainvar the Wanderer. I, Ainvar, have died but am alive again! Mine motive is to be Ruler of Kings and yet I have suffered sins for the 1st time much to mine in awe. I am not in a work of fiction yet I have become it.

Wanderer Ainvar

Ainvar the Wanderer is raised. It is mine faults that caused mine 2nd demise within this dungeon of fears. What calling do I need?