Kazumix

Legend

“Such a cacophonic and rasping voice, always in staccato, hacking everything into his own insane verses. Often accompanied by that horribly smelling swan-headed pig-bagpipes squeaking. Does for sure hurt the ears, yet there is and has never been anything to blame his correctness for—hes a pure genius in his mad riming.”

Skjald Sejrik

 

History

Fourth Age

Kazumix was born in the year 1205, in Jabos at the Isle of Naldar, the son of a fisherman and a mother who died in childbearing. At the age of 4, he was orphaned when his father drowned in a storm. He was adopted by a neighbouring family who ran a sushi establishment on the harbour boardwalk. Mostly left to himself while the foster parents worked, he developed an interest in reading and martial arts. And at a young age, he outshoned most other kids in knowledge, wit, and physique.

Often, he went into the outskirts of the dense jungles, full of poisonous animals and dangerous creatures, suddenly striking from behind a leaf or surging out from the dense vegetation. Thus, he learned to be aware and is extremely agile and skilled with short blades, stilettos, and darts. Unwary of his talents, he’s aiming skills have, as often as his sagas, won him a meal or mug when besting others at a game of darts.

Skjald Valgrif

 

His agility was actually what brought him into the ranks of the nobleborn. As he slightly built his reputation as a good darts player, some nobles started to bet on his games. It wasn’t long until he played games planned by the upper circles of Naldar that he noticed that during games played, disagreements over the course of past events were often the reason behind feuds and even small wars.

Thus, he started to memorise what was being said and was exceptionally good at it. And it wasn’t long before he could side with the correct ones and argue facts to such an extent that debates quickly ended. Thus, his status as a fact-teller soon surpassed his abilities as a dartsman, and the nobility began inquiring about matters of state. A job he did so well that the Skjalds one day secretly attended and overheard one of his sessions. I’m unaware of their conclusions that day, but he was later voted in.

Skjald El Mary

 

As his martial skills grew, he became involved in school tournaments, and it was during such a tournament that he met Mariko. And they started to develop feelings for each other. Little did he know that she was eyed by a nobleman’s son; in fact, neither did she. But alas, such are the burdens of the newborn. So as their feelings grew, so did the nobleman’s anger and their danger. Slowly, it became clear to them that tensions and danger were growing. Finally, at a tournament about the championships of all Naldar, while he was in the ring, His foster parents were slaughtered, their establishment torched, and his beloved raped and killed. With no proof of who was behind the deed, he could not raise formal charges. But several people described the villains, and with the proof at hand, he avenged the dead. A deed that outlawed him in the province.

Skjald Vinotis

 

Somehow this great disaster also became his luck, as it was this event that launched his aimless travel around the Isles, making him meet Citrine in 1226, who saw the Skjald potential behind the clouds wrapping him in darkness. Slowly, she dragged him back into the light of caring, and after a dozen years, they travelled together. He often surprises her with his analytical ability and extreme holistic capacity. In 1238, on a trip to Findon, they finally parted ways as Citrine was certain he was ready to walk alone. So, she ensured he was tested, and he entered their ranks. Now, ready to find his own area and style of telling, he embraced the world again.

It’s said he stayed at the Academy of Ri for 12 years, reading everything he could get his hands on. And in 1250, he left only due to a wish to attend the high king’s coronation.

Skjald Sigurd

 

He once told me, in his own odd way. That he saw the rising High King as a factor, maybe able to somehow aid him in a pardon in his beloved homeland. And that was the only reason he travelled to Grimsborg to mingle with the highest born once again. A trip he later discovered he could have saved, but don’t ask me; I haven’t got a clue what the rambler meant. But who cares how he talks? Let’s have a mug.

Skjald Yell'a'Beard

 

The High Kings coronation was something special, an event all the kings and lords attending would never forget. Not even the victory at the Battle of Weeping Plains came close, as it stood in the shadow of all the losses. And so many more unbroken trees stood shoulder to shoulder when that crown was laid to rest. And so many arms were weaving that even the mightiest had blinking eyes and red chins. Late in the evening, Kazumix managed to slide into the performers crowd, and there, in front of hundreds of mighty lords of several races, he recited tales of old in his own style, with such skill that some claim they saw Citrine shed a tear. Later that week, he was invited to perform for the new High King” and the Council of Colours.

Skjald Ulrich

 

Little did I know that the request was not from the High Kings… but came from the new Emperor of Naldar… who wanted to see the slayer of his enemy’s son… and decide what to do with the knowledge he had… knowledge about my beloveds’ deaths and my… just revenge.

But he decided that day… he told me in a later audience… that he would revoke my ban… and allow me back in my long-lost gardens of light… as they had found proof of my victim’s guilt after I left… uncovering a corrupt noble line reaching all the way up to the previous Emperor… resulting in a revolt and beheading of all the corrupt ones… alas had I but known.

That week brought the first light since the weak glimpse Citrine had sparkled in my darkness… I was pardoned… I was granted a place in the Skjalds… and I even had the honour of being invited to the T'Aurs settlement in Braburg.

Skjald Kazumix

 

I’ve never been able to figure out if they were lovers, but it wouldn’t surprise me if that sneaky tongue did conquer her. Well, excuse my Vularian, but I’ve never been that fond of him, and I’m still unsure if he is an agent of one of the other organisations. Maybe it’s just me, or maybe it’s just the fact that he’s so skilled at turning whatever into deadly weapons. I especially remember a performance he did at The Beastmaster Fair in Grebi a handful of years prior to The Great Invasion. Mid-reciting a heroic tale of ancient Naldarian and Midgard business, trying to end the century-long pillaging both had done. He was just about to tell about the blow that felled Xic, when two large Gaslug barbarians jumped the scene—one swung his mallet, yelling “like this,” while the other grinned maliciously.

It is outrageous to disturb a Skjald like that, and never have I seen one lean that much backwards without losing his balance. As the opponent’s mallet passed by, he caught his wrist and used the force to pull him back up. He kept the momentum and spun all around the swinger to face the grinning comrade, whose smile vanished as every tooth splintered when the dying comrade’s mallet hit his bewildered face. In a rain of teeth, he toppled back, staring at his now-dead comrade, falling forward with a drumstick in his left eye and another one in his right ear—both deep into the brain. Kazumix then grabbed his hands, jumped up, and kicked him with both legs hard in the chest. This move rocketed the barbarian backwards, dying from the shock of losing both arms. Kazumix landed back on his feet, stepped forward, and laid his arms across the dead man, yelling to the crowd, “Yes, like this, but at least ‘you two’ get a burial.”. And then he bowed and went inside a food tent.

Later, when I talked with the tent owner, he mentioned that he’s certain Kazumix was crying while eating. I’ve never seen a move like that until I came to Outlands. Where the Anurai assassins displayed similar agile strength, Hence my worries… but a pint can cure that, cheers.

Skjald Yell’A’Beard

 

I recall being in Esly in 1273… trying to drill into several Thieves guilds…

to figure out something for the High King… about the smuggling of Combat Herbs.

I had my agent waiting for the guide… but he never came. and I lost track of him for years…

tracks died out… I undertook other tasks and walked different paths. and then one day visiting a tribe at the Spire of Utari…

I heard the suspect was at the High Kings Court… I quickly packed.

Skjald Kazumix

 

Kazumix is undoubtedly the weirdest Skjald that ever was, always telling in short staccato sentences with an oral hardness to it. Like the metallic utterings of noble-born Naldar army commanders, yet with an odd prolonged rhythmic pulsing—almost like a heart beating. He is very cryptic in his wording, yet none have caught his odd twists and tweaks as being unjust to the sagas. This makes his tales extremely entertaining or dreadful, depending on the listener. It is also what has made him climb ranks to 4^th, a place he might have held even without The Great Invasion thinning our ranks.

Skjald Sigurd

 

Organisation

It’s said that during his wanderings, he still practices his martial arts, and a few have told me he even teaches a few of his styles. They were unable to give names, locations, and other useful information, so it might just be loose rumours. Especially since he is always travelling all across the realm, far more than any other Skjald. A habit he’s grown even stronger into since he, in 1276, at the High Kings Court heard Yell'a'Beard warn against the Great Invasion to come. He is one of the few who actually took the warnings seriously, as some things fit into the pattern his own discoveries had unveiled.

Skjald Valgrif

 

After the presentation of Yell’a’Beard’s information for the High King, there was a Skjald meeting where Yell’a’Beard was suggested and voted into our ranks. It sent never-before-seen shockwaves through our society, as Citrine opposed a nomination based solely upon foreign information rather than the traditional oral recitation of ancestral lore of The Realm. The debate ended with, some claimed, a politically based nomination resulting in Citrine stepping out of our ranks. She left the castle the next day alongside a chattering Kazumix.

I mourn the Skjalds loss, but praise that she survived The Great Invasion and still walks the paths of The Realm, as shes still a vast well of knowledge.

Skjald Ulrich

 

We walked Midgard for a while… Citrine and I, discussing many things… then mayhem came… and we decided to part as we had different paths to thread… family trees died… villages and towns aflame… the roads dangerous and almost always gates to hell… Invaders roamed every street, shelter, and cave… and people fled… yet in all this turmoil, it suddenly became easier to gather info… and I discovered the truth about some very noble lords…

But alas, what’s the point now… the world we knew died, and we need some of these mighty banners… to weave steadily, inspire, and pay back.

Skjald Kazumix