Clouds lay heavily and rain poured across southern Braburg, just as the weather Reinar Gjallar liked. It kept the officials at home and covered traffic in the Melton Marshes. So he was out doing his young master’s work, transporting Combat Herbs through the deadly area.

Late that evening, it thudded heavily on their door, waking up the heavily pregnant Alvi Gjallar. . The pounding could only mean two things: her husband dead or, worse, officials finally catching him. But what his friends brought was horrible. Reinar seemingly had been attacked and was dying; the wounds inflicted came from nothing they had seen before, and one of the men, who was hidden in the tall grass awaiting the load, said he had seen a very tall bird-like thing suddenly descend on the boat, and as its wings turned into arms, all four of its taloned hands ripped and slashed Rainar and his friend to pieces.

Seeing her dying man, labour struck, and her water broke. 5 minutes later, Urai was born, and with his last breath, Reinar stroked his son’s head gently and smiled. As the infant cried through the night, along with its mother’s tears, The house slowly emptied.

Skjald Sejrik

Growing up as the child of a man slain like his father shrouded him in a mystery that gave him opportunities few others had. He’s mother had died within a week of his birth, so he had no ties to anyone but the family who fostered him—for the silver paid by his father’s master. And at an early age, he began helping at the docks in Port Melton. Mostly, he was at the pier, aiding boats and ships to land with a boat hook, or he was out in the marshes, examining and clearing paths with a billhook.

I guess it was the story about his father’s demise that made him an always-chatting-grinning-jesting guy when working, as if to keep things away with his merry mood and broad-mouthed endless chatter.

In 1216, at the age of 20, due to his knowledge of the marshes, he was offered the position of captain of the channel ferry sailing between Port Melton and Marsketop. A job considered easy by most, but those who really knew about the shifting sandbanks and moving islands knew why he got the job. Steering it for 10 straight years without a single accident made him a renowned captain.

Skjald Vinotis

Then, in 1226, an event occurred that gave him his nickname. They were slowly zigzagging around some previously unseen large grass island when suddenly three Anurai jumped on board and started to slay passengers and crew alike. One managed to land on the deck though and squeaked sprawling as it fell. Kaosfrog had thrown his billhook, and it had severed its one leg. Another leaped at him, kicked the door, and threw it open to pieces, expecting to cut his head in half with its halberd. It emerged through the rain of splinters. And I felt his boat hook pierce its throat and nail it dangling at the cabin wall.

“Hey, you. You’re next,” boomed his voice across the chaos. Forcing the last one to turn around and stare at him. It’s fellow attackers hanging dead and dying with gibbering moans on the deck. It leaped, swung its halberd, and as it was to impact his broad, smiling face. Kaosfrog’s hands clapped tight at each side of the blade. “Oh, I’ve waited for something like this. This is for my father…”. And to the wide-eyed squeaking of the Anurai, an equally gibberish sound made Kaosfrog mock it openly as he slowly forced the halberd blade back towards the face of the attacker. And with a nasty grin, he forced it into the forehead, through the brain, and out the back of its neck. Finalising the move by nailing it to the wall.

Then he turned his attention to the dying one on the deck, stood across it, and whispered, “Pop, it goes lad…”. Then he stomped its back, grabbed its cheeks, and pulled the head off its shoulders.

It was not before he threw the head into the marsh that he noticed the silence. And as he looked around, he saw all the others merely staring at him in utter silence. Then someone said, “Kaos’N’Frogs, Urai rocks!”. They spent the rest of the trip cleaning the boat and presented the attackers and casualties to the harbour master in Marsketop. And that very same day, Kaosfrog announced he would steer the ferry no more, as there were more dangerous channels for him to sail and keep safe.

Skjald Valgrif

He kept sailing with goods… for those who could pay… just not at day…

Even in The Great Invasion… he delivered life and death…

Skjald Kazumix

Organisation

For the next 25 years, he kept the marshes a more safe place for anyone to travel. But when the High King and the Council of Colours forbade the use of combat herbs, his former master, Nefius, offered him a position in the Triad Traders overseeing that transports out of Braburg and from Darin could ship non-taxed by agents of The Realm.

A task Kaosfrog did with great skill all the way up to and through The Great Invasion. As the 2nd Alliance won, the reinstated former High King Black Oak pardoned Kaosfrog from any activities prior to The Great Invasion due to his tremendous contribution in the war. And thus began the Cleansing Crusade.

Kaosfrog is now one of the great heroes roaming the islands for any foe or traitor he can peel or pull apart. By all gods, ain’t it him over there? Let’s call for a waiter.

Skjald Yell'a'Beard

Special

Able to hold breath… for extremely long.

Skjald Kazumix

Last Updated on 2024-02-06 by IoM-Christian