Varrol

 

History

Fourth Age

Born in 1164, on the family’s return to their home on a riverboat sailing upwards on the Linopalka Stream from the large city of Rhûinaka, almost in the middle of Claun. Thus, Varrol spent the first couple of weeks on a rolling boat before they reached the village of Klinêt Rhâk and had to revert to a waggon the last days further up into the streamy, lake and pond-filled area of Firdhala Ridge. Their home for as long as anyone could remember.

As the youngest child of a river-fishing couple, he had a rough time in the flock of 16 siblings. Every spot, task, and role was taken by one or more of the elder ones. So, he often spent his childhood with his grandparents: a pair of Jomzaars on the father’s side, and an Ogryl and a Gorean on the mother’s side. If not at them, he spent time on the rocky shore of Firdhala, teasing fate with bold jumps from ledge to ledge, seeking new paths to hard-to-reach caves.

As time went on, he harmlessly encountered the oddest of fish and birdlike creatures and at times saw huge glowing eyes in deep waters or in caves and tunnels, so his boldness grew. One day, in 1176, a couple of glowing eyes from the darkness of a tunnel became a snapping mouth and ripping claws, coveting his blood and seeking his throat.

Instead of becoming scared, loosening his grip to tumble to his certain death at the rocks below, he gritted his teeth and, with one hand, secured his grip on life. With the other hand, he grabbed the creature as it surged forth, and with a smooth turn of his upper body and the small monster held firmly, he twisted its surge, and with his teeth, he chewed open its neck.

Dying but still sprawling slightly, he presented it to the village elders, who shook their heads in disbelief and pledged him to stop such adventures, as it would certainly end his life – and maybe theirs. Crawling in the wilderness and notifying the horrors of nearby human prey should be avoided at all costs.

Everyone said they hoped monsters would continue to feed on what the wilderness offered. Seeing their concern for their community and him, he finally felt a value and set his mind to a path very few dare walk. He wanted to become a monster hunter and rid the world of them, or at least find and kill as many of these nasty things as he could.

“A glorious path for a child to desire, bringing death or eternal admiration.”

~Skjald El Mary

 

In 1188, he was certain that he’d rid the shores and hillsides in their part of Claun of every creature daring to stick its snout out or blink its greedy eye. His physique now clearly showed the results of mountain climbing, running pursuits, wrestling fearsome horrors, and swinging his great two-handed blade. So he travelled down the river and came to Rims Bay to investigate a rumour about a grotesque monster being spotted.

Daring to go where others would not, he began circling in the location of the creature, and out in the wilderness he finally found the creature, a four-armed birdlike human, actually only three, as it seemingly had lost its upper left arm just below the shoulder. Eying him, it attacked as it sent shock upon shock through his mind, and although the pain was blurring, it was as if something took over and controlled his defence.

Shrieking in surprised rage, it hesitated, and that brief moment was what Varrol had learnt to explore. Doing a tumbling attack, he made a caricatured lunge with his hand and half and twist-threw his small stiletto right into its right eye. Stunned by the pain, it halted and had both its feet severed. Falling to its knees, it was then decapitated.

As he was walking away with the head, he suddenly stood face to face with a tall, broad-shouldered shaman with a presence and an aura of power outshining anything Varrol had ever met before.

Kanziganthir, for that was indeed the ancient legend, stared in disbelief. “My, my, I must say I’m impressed. I know the whereabouts of the arm and that seems to be the head. Mind me asking what happened to the rest?” “Oh, I left the carcass back there,” said Varrol with a toss of the head, and as Kanziganthir turned and started a trot, Varrol shrugged and walked off.

Unaware of what he had just left, Varrol began travelling the paths of all West Fjella in pursuit of rumours, stories, tales, and whispers of odd things and dangerous places. In 1197, at a port in Ulgary, he heard a story about an odd event in Usai which led him to East Fjella and travel inland to a recently discovered Astral Site/Gate. There he met a group of excavators paid by Longhorn, a rich merchant of southern Midgard and the former Stallari of Junnatu Weavers.

“With new wings the hunt became even grander.”

~Skjald Ulrich

 

In 1189 he met Kanziganthir again, almost not recognising him, as Kanziganthir somehow looked younger than last time. But he was approached with the words, ‘Hello again, mind me.’ But I never rewarded you properly for the egg. Mind if I invite you two to see something special? Totally clueless but up for the offer, Varrol joined Kanziganthir on a trip to Mt. Vula.

His mind almost blasting with the impressions, Varrol didn’t notice that Kanziganthir studied him intensively as they toured the halls and eventually stood in the central hall. Bustling with small groups crafting, embedding, enhancing, and enchanting and all the odd lava imps. Then a sudden sharp flash caught their eye, and as they turned heads, they heard the shriek of Xut’ulka Gisfa. Seeing a fleeing lava imp, a dumbstruck Byri LaHacil, and Xut’ulka being consumed by astral flames. As they left, Varrol said, “You sure showed me something special!” Kanziganthir, studying him closely, never replied. When they emerged from the Astral, Varrol stood alone.

Skjald Huginn told me that in 1197 he was visiting Longhorn to record an excavation. That event almost became the end of some of them had it not been for Varrol , acting like he was me in my younger days. As suddenly the portal lit up, and a huge elephant-like humanoid surged forward. Taking the chatting Wilson by surprise, it knocked him aside and out and went directly for Longhorn, who was standing nearby with Huginn, both deep in studies of excavation inscriptions on some found items.

Varrol reacted with a speed matching mine as a young, agile huntsman. Sprinting in to cut off the charging foe from its prey, he reached it a few metres from Longhorn, looking more like a frozen trader than a former Stallari.

As the monster felt Varrol ‘s presence, it turned its head slightly and roared in rage. As it totally changed its focus from the inscription-studying pair to Varrol , its eyes rolling, trunk wriggling and wailing, and foam and spit spewed forth as it enraged, it gave Varrol all the time and opportunity he needed.

With a mighty jump, he darted upwards and grabbed its one tusk. Remembering all his cliff climbing, he swung hard, and as he pivoted around, landing on the huge creature’s back, he yanked hard, and its tusk snapped. With one hand clenching its ear, Varrol drove the broken tusk deep into one eye of the raging monster.

Momentum still shifting, it fell hard and slid almost a full metre, coming to a halt short of the surprised Longhorn and Huginn. As Wilson came to himself, he involuntarily joined the pair’s outburst, and all three said, “What just happened here?” Varrol just smiled… growled… and changed!

“The dormant fylgia awoken was handled properly and is now a mighty mantle.”

~Skjald Yell'a'Beard

 

It had been close for Longhorn and Huginn. But instead of dying, they could look at a huge Gaji-Kulat carcass, and after a quick, surprising outburst, they burst into great laughter about the swift reaction and ease of handling Varrol did the foe with.

Then, to the words “Now that was swift, lad… oh, so there it is…” of a recovering Wilson. Varrol changed. The Gaji-Kulats attack had awoken the fylgia lingering inside Varrol , and it emerged. Covering most of Varrol in fur, he became a blend of human and lynx. Luckily, the others knew exactly what was going on and tamed the emerging fylgia and Varrol with their powers.

It’s said that it’s these tusks that now decorate Longhorn’s helm, and the broken tusk-tip is the one Varrol has attached to his shoulder pad to remind him of the day he awoke. They never figured out why the monster had rushed for Longhorn and Huginn at the table of found goods and not turned on Varrol at once, but we think it was due to the excavated items.

This episode ensured Varrol gained coins for future monster hunting for the rest of his life, as Longhorn gave him the right to wear and utilise his emblem as a token of his gratitude. This mixed Triad Trader and Junnatu Weaver token allowed Varrol to travel anywhere, and he immediately began exploring all of the isles, at times even hunting down at the Rim.

As Wilson liked Varrol , he shared the secret of Astral Site/Gate usage, making travel across the Isles much easier. At first these travels took Varrol across both Fjella Isles, and in the summer of 1199 he passed through Ulgary again, where he noticed and met Gasse Grozol, who found Varrol interesting and invited him to his 90th birthday.

In 1208 as Varrol passed through Labigia he heard rumour of some monsters. Locals claimed they were trolls with trunks, and Varrol had an idea what they might be. Not monsters, but something just as nasty. Seeking out the local administration, he met Loiz d'Himanz, who told him about what was known at a higher level. But he should be careful, as there were two of them. After a couple of months tracks ended at a previously unknown teleport site, and it was concluded the Gaji-Kulats had left again.

Some years passed before Varrol was again recorded with worthy deeds. In 1220, at some windblown frosty pass of The Rim, he met Themac of Ye Olde Zephyrs in the autumn. Together they fought a Ye'Til, and Themac saw Varrol in Fylgia, shapeshifting, you know, and asked if Varrol had ever met Kanziganthir. Confirming he had, and the story unfolding, Themac invited Varrol along to Grindaa their home in Zapri, the court of Ye Olde Zephyrs led by Black Oak, and Kanziganthir.

Curious about Kanziganthir Varrol accepted, they sailed to East Fjella, then Astravelled, and they arrived at Ye Olde Zephyrs in 1221. There he met a seemingly more vitalised Kanziganthir and gained access to some extensive knowledge in their library. Learning not only about his fylgia but also several languages, as quite many texts were in ancient or strange languages. He also became interesting in knowing more about Kanziganthir’s appearance. As he was a perceptive lad, he soon gained a rather broad insight and surprised visiting sages, who invited him to their academies. Offers he gladly accepted over lengthy talks, as he was prying into a growing question – the eggs.

In 1225 he passed by the small village next to the ruined Mukadall Monastery at the foothills of Mt. Iznog. Finding what went on there quite interesting, he travelled to Regaris village and visited the Filled Bucket.

In 1231, as he was travelling from Bilza at Utari, he once again passed by the Mukadall Monastery of the Holy Star Order as he wanted to talk with Kalmo.

Then in 1233 he was at Academy of Ri, where he met Atallanti and Da'Vey.

In 1246 he began participating in the sieges carried out by the realmsters against the torchers. And in the 1st alliance's final ride, he was at their front ranks.

At the crowning ceremony of the high king in 1250, when Black Oak became the first high king, he was seen at Grimsborg.

After spending a few years studying the vast amount of information that poured into the imperial library, he decided to visit the Academy of Ea in 1257. There he met Nahita, and they spent quite some time practising melee and other things.

“A new side of the combatant duo sprang forth and blossomed.”

~Skjald Valgrif

 

Just prior to the great invasion, in 1277, he was hand-picked by the Gyron Lords and offered the role as their leading monster hunter. Knowing their agent network was the most extensive in The Realm and that it most likely would bring him to monsters faster, he accepted.

Thus, he was on a mission when the invasion struck. Killing many of the Gyron organisation and crippling their research severely.

I met him last year, and he told me he had found it more important to fend off enemies than return to discuss things at the reformed table. So he’s still out there greeting friends and beating foes.

“In his blood… runs the saviour… stronger than ever.”

~Skjald Kazumix

 

Organisation

He is a member of Ye Olde Zephyrs’ longboat crews but also a Gyron Lord and of the Monster Hunters.

“As agile as the water that flows, he finds a way.”

~Skjald El Mary

 

Special

He can call forth or dismiss his fylgia at will.

“If he begins to murr, then change topic or table.”

~Skjald