Polski

Legend

Polski hit as hard and fast as the lightning that sired him and his perception is as grand as a handfull folks.”

Skjald Ulrich

 

History

According to the annals, the birth of Polski is one of the most bizarre births to have occurred in The Realm. And it was in a muggy day with heavy clouds hanging low above the village of Dolamur Slubsk in the Pollumen. None was tending the cranes hoisting or lowering goods as people was uncomfortable if lightning would break out.

Suddenly a extremely hugs flash came and the village was struck by lightning. It came down into the glassblowers shop shattering the roof and cracking the house open. As soon as nearby people had recovered from the flash and booming thunderclap they rushed to the burning house to see if the residents was injured. And, there amidst the ruins laid a woman dead in child-bed, husband and midwifes laid sprawled around the ruin. But at the charred and still gleaming bed-carpet laid a crying newborn, seemingly unharmed by the accident.

Skjald Yell'a'Beard

 

Growing up with a foster family, a tanners son, in the town of Warsha Slubsk down at the feet of the Pollumen and at the shore of River Ari. Polski worked hard for the food, dying hides and cloth. When not working, he enjoyed climbing trees in the nearby forest or climbing in The Crepse Crevasse cutting deep into the hills, to find whatever valuables he encountered. It was in one of these climbs, he met his first wild animal, or should I say creature, as its not certain what it was from his descriptions. Regardless, he snapped its spine and strangled it to death. Brought it back, and was scolded for hours, despite his reassurance that besting that thing was nothing.

The encounter did though make the 7 year old start to practice with weapons whenever he could spare time for it. And he began travelling more remote parts of wood, crevasse and rough-lands, in hope to find more of these things. Especially as he had received a really good price for the first ones fur. He had though more success in arms training than in creature finding, and as he passed 10 every training masters of the village couldn’t teach him more.

With a recommendation from one of the elders, to the city guard captain of the nearby city of Gir Dansk at the foot of Pollumen Peak. The young lad, exceptional at melee was sent to better use his natural skills, than flipping dyed hides and cloth.

Skjald Valgrif

 

Sitting on a wagon, with but fist and a flagon…

Bumping bend, hill and swing, he could but sing…

Of dreams about greatness, honor to mother and father both…

When birds pipped no more, and guides ran ashore…

Robbers and rascals all, thought the lad too small…

Louder than silence, sang his fist and birds pipped along…

Guides cheered a song, the lad so strong…

Skjald Kazumix

 

“I’m sorry for the blood Sir.”, was his first words to the captain of the guard as he handed the stained letter. And looked excitingly at the bulky mountain of bone and muscle reading his introduction. “Seems you’re something special, eh lad. Well let’s see that. Tag along”. Within a hour from reaching the city’s gates he was in the city guards training arena, facing another young but seemingly 5 years older and trained fighter. Unsure of how he should handle the situation, the opponent charged him, and to everyone’s surprise he avoided the intended chest poke and jump-spun across the forward leaning charger -who after a couple of steps stopped and slowly turned -and stared point blank into the tip of Polskis training sword. Within a few hours they had finally found training partners able to give proper training, and enjoying practicing with the young talent.

So in the year of 1170 he celebrated his 11th birthday as the youngest member who ever had donned the mantle of Gir Dansk city guard. Quickly he gained the respect of the population and even the various shadow guilds respected the skilled lad. There was of course a few, who saw the extremely skilled guard a threat to their business and tried ambushes, then assassinations to get rid of him. But nothing seemed to work, as he was extremely quick, agile and had a perception normally not seen with guards.

So when he became 13, he was promoted to Corporal, had 5 men under him and managed his crews things as well as walked the streets with them. He was well liked, and at times aided other corporals. He also led several forces into the wilderness to hunt for creatures or monsters, and did border patrols. When he turned 16 he was promoted to Sergeant, the youngest ever in any town in Bilza.

Skjald Sejrik

 

The news of Kinoblin had been circling for a couple of years, but in 1176 a Junk anchored up outside Gir Dansk. Being the one at duty the 17 year old was the one to greet the Kinoblin envoy at the pier. Obviously confused by far older big bearded men letting a lad do the talking. I’ve heard it was a spectacular happening, as the strangers couldn’t help but addressing the lesser ranked, but elder ones. At some point its said Polski dismissed the watch as he could easily handle the situation alone.

Standing there alone, with 3 Kinoblin envoys, some foolish members of The Green Mist, a rouges/assassins guild, tried to see if they could do the job so many craved for meanwhile getting some exclusive loot in the bag. I am uncertain what heck they where thinking, had they succeeded the Kinoblin most likely would have sunk the island of Utari -or at least burned Gir Dansk to the ground.

Noticing a odd humming in the wind, Polski spun around and in the movement he grabbed a crossbow bolt aiming straight for the face of the envoy leader with his right hand and with the left he grabbed the one aiming for his back. Then, aware that the Kinoblin now had understood the danger, he made a tumbling roll and double leaped towards the assassins. As they had reloaded and was about to fire again, one had a bolt buried into his eye socket and the other had his throat ripped open. In a gusting spray of blood Polski stared at the last petrified fools who had attacked him. One jabbed his stiletto into his own throat, the other stroke towards Polski. The last action he ever did with that arm.

Turning towards the Kinoblin letting the dying fool sprawl on the ground, Polski is to have said, “Sorry for that good Sirs, but now you can rest assured that you’re trade booth can be set up safely”. Their reply only Polski could hear. But people who was there say that the visitors seemingly was quite impressed. Later that day, when he had reported the incident and his crew had returned and cleaned up the pier. The small Kinoblin boat came to pier again and they gave him a gift, a trial-pit mace they said was called “Skull Maimer“. Their leader seemingly thankful for being saved from that bolt, but also impressed over Polskis skills.

A week and several talks with the visitors later, they anchored up and left. And Polski was promoted to Senior Sergeant. Again, the youngest ever. And when he turned 18, in 1177, he became the youngest Luitnant ever in Bilza. He spent 2 years more in the city guard but as he turned 20, he left as a honorary Major, aiming north for Gartra Moor, the capital of Bilza.

Skjald Vinotis

 

He told me, that going to Gartra Moor  the main question in his head was about his heritage. Despite being tall he was also more fair skinned than many other fellow citizens. He wondered if it was due that odd birth accident, but as he would pass Warsha Slubsk he planned to spend some time there to see if he could find some news about his parents.

20 years had passed, the town still had the same function of hoisting and lowering goods, but many of the elders had either died or moved on to find other livings. A few could remember his parents though and said they came from somewhere in Midgard and it was only his elder brother who had been born down the piers the day 25 years ago. Where his elder brother was they didn’t know, but he had survived the lightning as he was not home that day. They also told him to visit the town leader and upon doing so he was gives a sum of money as payment for the house long sold and rebuilt. He was also given an old wagon of glass ingots, none could remelt and thus had it merely stood at the back of the town leaders house for all these years.

With this new knowledge and a wagonload of coloured glass ingots, he turned his  back to his past. Bought an extra horse and walked northwards with his cargo. Little did he know, his glass would save the day at the other end of The Realm in a hundred years.

Skjald El Mary

 

He only spent 10 years in Gartra Moor, yet he impressed the city guard and Nobility there as much as he had in previous towns and cities. At the age of 31, in 1190, he had nothing more to learn from native trainers or hired hands, so left their service at the rank of Colonel. The main reason was though not lack of skilled training partners but because he had heard news that someone might be able to use his ingots. So he travelled by ship to the Free City of Muldum and gave them to Minolza Errautarr as he was able to use odd Kobold melting procedures and enchantments. In exchange for the cargo, Polski was taught the ways of T'Aurs fighting and rage.

As if he was not deadly already, he became extremely lethal during the years with Mino’. He became sort of security of the forge and shop, as they at times experienced customers unwilling to pay or respect ownership. Misunderstandings he was more than happy to correct. But around 1215 he left for Midgard as he had something he needed to examine. He returned in 1220 and when the Bulls Order was formed he became leader of their military with rank of Stallari.

Skjald Sigurd

 

He told me that he was with a Moss'Ari tribe to learn their Natures Ways when The Great Invasion came. So he had no clue of it until 2 weeks had passed. He never reached the old Free City of Muldum as it had been burnt to the ground when he finally came to its gates many a week and dead foes later.

Seeing there was nothing to do there, he left for Academy of Ea with his cargo. But when he passed Tusla he was intercepted by Aragon who told him about what had occured. And they chanced course for Junnatu Caves as Aragon had heard that both Grimsborg and Ashenhall had fallen.

When they passed Tornix they did indeed see a ruined and smoking Ashenhall but where also spotted by Kinoblin. The hunt took place all the way to Usai were they managed to escape into narrow fjords and through crevasses known but by a few. So, almost 6 months after The Great Invasion they stood with 2 creaking hand pulled wagons at the entry to Junnatu Caves. Staring at Meanbone, Longhorn and several other Junnatu Weavers.

Greeting old friends and gritting teeth at losses, they distributed the load. And after a short rest, set out to hunt Aquerian, Kinoblin and Mammutan

Skjald Vinotis

 

Special

Polski is able to gain any opponents attention in a few poundings -and pass it over in a few heartbeats.

Skjald Sigurd