Introduction: Grissam

((Here's a little introduction to me and my character. I really like Tortage and the AoC storylines in general, so they are in there as well. The strange phrases in my texts are possibly of German origin. Just imagine that this is how Cimmerians talk. ;-)

My name's Sara, I am 24 and right now doing my master degree in media design. I'm also a cable puller at an Austrian TV station. And I'm from Germany and currently living in Austria. So I'm about six hours before the US players. Good that I have very strange sleeping behaviour. I have been roleplaying for about eight years, mostly P&P, namely Shadowrun. There have also been some fantasy P&Ps and a little LARP here and there. And of course the bulky computer Rps. I have been into MMOs for seven years as well, starting with the WoW-Beta, then some Guild Wars, Neocron, Runes of Magic, D&D Online and finally Age of Conan. It immediately won my heart.))

Grissam of Cimmeria – Character description

Grissam is a female bear shaman and around 30 years old. She was born in Cimmeria, but can't remember a lot before she washed up on Tortage's beach. She has a little problem with authorities and also doesn't like people who abuse their power, especially if they turn against the weak. Since in Hyboria the powerful are mostly men and the weak women, she often projects her anger on innocent targets. She also loves her country very dearly and fights adamantly against any threats. She's not really a leader, but since she charges in first, the others follow. Since Grissam is a bear shaman, she can do harm as well as heal. After some time of relentless killing, she realized that she could do more good with helping and working with others. She will still crush some skulls if needed, but she avoids unnecessary fights. This is when she decided to join Sealladh.

Tortage

She woke up on a sandy beach without memories. Well not entirely without memories. She could remember that she was on a ship. The water was flooding inside. The ship sank. So she escaped. And now she was on that sandy beach.

»I see, you're still alive.«

The voice belonged to an old man leaning over her. She jumped up. Possibly he was a scavenger, now betrayed for his loot.

»Do not be alarmed. I don't need your rags. What's your name?«

»Grissam.«

Right that was her name. That empty memory was just as deceptive as a filled one. Saddur. Grissam remembered another name. And what he did to her. The old man with the name Kalanthes suggests to find her former slave master and kill him. Otherwise Grissam will never be abled to enter the city. Well, how fitting.

---

»Ha, there you are again. Do you want to grovel at my feet as before?«

Saddur would have been groveling as well, if he had been shackled and held down by three men. But later he had found an even better solution to Grissam's disobedience. He never dared to touch her. Too many teeth. But he let her know what he did to the other women, when she had been rebellious again. And for that he would die now. Slowly. And painfully. No more men to protect him.

---

»You can leave with the next ship. Thanks to you the harbor is open again.«

This was no real gratitude. Valeria was just afraid that Grissam would take her position as Tortage's leader. Good that she wanted to leave anyway. Why would she want to reign over that backwater island. Well, maybe Grissam would miss the women. But Valeria needed to understand fast that a leader had to be with his men. She was a good figurehead, but with her hiding most of the time, someone needed to fight on the front. Grissam did. And so it was her who got Strom's head and not Valeria. Valeria needed to understand fast or someone else would come.

Cimmeria

Finally. Grissam had arrived in her homeland. Why did she have to be greeted by that tattler Rhiderch. But he knew something about her past. So she had to listen to him. But all he did was sending her somewhere else. Not now. Not so soon after she arrived at home. Not when there was so much to do in Cimmeria.

Battlemaster Bronwith appreciated Grissam's offer to help. As did the other warriors of Clan Conarch. This was why Grissam felt comfortable in her »barbarian« homeland. No one asked any questions as long as you worked hard. No one frowned at a woman as leader of the warriors. They shouldn't. Bronwith would get their head.

»Heh, the memories always come back when I least need them.«

The ship is narrow and stifling. The guards are dragging a woman away. Again. Grissam charges one of them, but they are ready. Two more jump on her back and press her to the ground. »You spineless dogs. Try to take a woman who dares to struggle against you! I'll bite you balls of.« They only laugh. But they need to be careful. Even the slaves out on the oars mutter angry curses.

»Those dogs are dead. That I want to remember. And luckily here is someone who deserves a beating just as bad.«

Grissam really needed to take her anger out on someone. The drunken Aquilonian bastard Atraxus was just the right person for that. And the guards of Conarch Village had one less vermin molesting the women to worry about.

---

»This is bad. Those cursed red-haired giant-spawn are everywhere! Why don't you attack them?«

»You dare challenge my decisions?«

Aye, she dared. Grissam charged into Conall's Valley without thinking about her battle plan. For a while this worked quite effectively. The Vanir fled from the blind rage of the bear and that was what killed most of them. But they were simply too many. They regrouped and cornered the bear. But Torin Chieftain still wasn't right. Cowering behind broken barricades would not help against the Vanir. Luckily there were other who thought this way and who were ready to shed their blood in the defense of an unknown ally. Though mostly they shed Vanir blood.

»I am Kern Wolfseye. Sometimes I think we need more such reckless fighters as yourself. Welcome, friend.«

Now she was at the right place. With those outcasts she could free her homeland.

»We can free ourselves. We are so many more than the guards.« Grissam tells them again. »But most of the slaves are shackled to the thwarts.« That is always the argument. But this time they went too far. Kara was the only one who risked to support the rebellious thoughts. The guards knew that, they also knew that Grissam was the driving force behind these thoughts. But they still dared not come too close to her. So they took Kara who never learned how to fight. When they brought her back there wasn't much will to live left. And Grissam had to tend to her only friend. The guards had miscalculated. Now the slaves were more afraid of what would happen to them if they stayed instead of what would happen if they tried to escape.

---

That wouldn't work. With the help of some other adventurous Cimmerians and even some well-traveled strangers Grissam had advanced far into enemy territory. They had even slain most of the Vanir leaders in the valley. But that didn't even thwart them for more than an instant. The real leaders sat save behind their fortress doors. They would need an army to conquer these fortresses. For that they needed help.

That doesn't work as planned. Oh, it was easy to overwhelm the guards down in the bilge. The oars of the scullers made some splendid clubs. Even some of the chains were weak enough to break with the guards swords. And the women could walk freely on the ship. They were supposed to lure the remaining guards into the bilge. But someone smelled a rat. They are waiting for us on deck. »Now we have to fight! Kill those whoresons.« But again it doesn't work as planned. Those idiots put firebowls on deck. Of course someone stumbles upon them. The ship is burning. The planks are breaking. »We need to free the ones below!« No one listens. Most are locked in fights. The first ones are abandoning ship. Grissam storms back into the bilge. There's already water in there. It's rising. Fast. She tries to break the bonds of the oarslaves, but the water is rising to fast. She doesn't leave.

»Isn't this King in Tarantia Cimmerian? He should be able to send an army to help his kinsmen.«

No one answered Grissam. So she left for Aquilonia alone.

Aquilonia

Grissam stood in front of the city of Tarantia in awe. She had never seen such buildings. The sheer size of the city made her unusually timid. This may be why she let herself be turned down at the gates to the Noble District.

»We can only let you enter this district if you have proven your worth to the king of Aquilonia. But we would need some help in the Wild Lands of Zelata.«

You can't expect someone else to help without something in return. So Grissam left Tarantia soon after she arrived and traveled to the Wild Lands.

---

There was much to do. Most of the region was already overrun by Nemedians and Dark Beasts spawned from the pits of some Acheronian ruins. Although usually the Aquilonian soldiers would be abled to deal with these problems, there were darker powers at work which drove the defenders back step by step. Just slaying the visible enemy wasn't enough, but Grissam had learned from her experience. She journeyed to a wise woman and the inofficial ruler of the Wild Lands, Zelata.

»I do not trust you, stranger. But if your desire to help is real, you should look in the depths of the Acheronian ruins shadowing over this land.«

Grissam didn't need Zelata's trust to do what was necessary. With other adventurers she set foot in the Sanctum of the Burning Soul.

---

»I have purged your Wild Lands of the Acheronian threat. Now let me go to your king.«

Grissam's respect for Tarantia and especially her guards had decreased constantly with the time they let her wait.

»Do not get you hopes up. I have been here for some weeks waiting to be admitted to the king. Greetings, friend. I am Caor. I hail from Cimmeria, like yourself.«

A Cimmerian Grissam had seen arguing with the guards before approached her smiling bitterly. They greeted each other like siblings. They had never met before, but they had the same origin and the same goal. Both their patience had grown thin, so if the guards wouldn't let them enter the Noble District, they would find their own way. Quickly they devised a plan, befitting their Cimmerian heritage. Their being born in the harsh mountains made the walls around the district a minor obstacle. When the night was darkest they seized the walls out of the sight of the guards.

»I knew there was a reason why they didn't even let us enter the Noble District, much less the king's palace.«

»They can't even keep the Nemedians out of their own frontyard.«

Disillusioned they continued on their way. They still needed to speak to the king. They used the shadows as long as possible, but the straight avenue towards the palace didn't provide any cover. And it was crawling with Nemedians.

»Well, let us show them what two Cimmerian warriors can do to them!«

Caor and Grissam left their cover with a roaring battlecry. First the Nemedians' confusion let the two Cimmerians cut through their foes without much opposition. But soon they realized that they weren't dealing with a military force but with two lone fighters. Grissam tried to keep the Nemedians at bay with the superior reach of her warhammer. Caor sliced everyone who managed to get past her. And another of the more courageous Nemedians was hit by Grissam's hammer, his ribs fractured with a nasty crack. He may have survived, but he charged again and the next hit drove his broken ribs into his lungs. Coughing blood he sank to the ground. But while Grissam was engaged with this single opponent, another one managed place a deep cut on Grissam's side. Alarmed by her gasp Caor whirled around slicing the Nemedian with his left hand sword across the body, while holding back his own opponent with his other sword. Luckily no one was close enough to attack his exposed back. The Cimmerians turned back to back again and looked for a gap between their enemies were they could breach their line towards the barricades in front of the palace gates. They found a clearance and stormed towards the security of the barricades. They could already hear the king's guards readying themselves. The path was almost clear, the only remaining Nemedians jumped out of the reach of Grissam's and Caor's weapons. But then the arrows hit. The Nemedians had only moved away so their archers could get a clear shot. Most arrows were blocked by their armor, but there were still enough vulnerably spots to let the two warriors slump to the ground. Just meters from the barricades they were striken down.

»Not yet!«

Her face contorted with pain Grissam heaved herself up and summoned the Spirit of the Bear. A sound as if leaves were raised by a gentle wind reached their ears and a soft green light engulfed the struck warriors. Since the Nemedians still had not dared to approach the Cimmerians only Grissam and Caor could see how their wounds healed with a magical speed. Laughing Caor came back to his feet and Grissam awakened another part of the bear's spirit hardening their skin as they waited for the Nemedians to kill them finally. With the arrows still stuck in their flesh and blood flowing down their body the Cimmerians gave a gruesome impression. Their gaze told the Nemedians that they would take as many opponents with them as they could.

»Now will you let them in, you maggots?!«

A commanding voice sounded from behind the barricades and a small passage opened swiftly in the barricades. The Nemedians took this as reason to attack again. But they were greeted by Aquilonian arrows. Under the covering fire two Aquilonian soldiers rushed to the wounded Cimmerians and dragged them behind the barricades. They were greeted by the commander of the Black Dragons himself.

---

Pallantides and his men drew their swords as Grissam lept forward furiously.

»I have heard of you, cursed one. I can't let you to the king.«

»We have proven our loyalty. How dare you deny me an audience.«

The Black Dragons advanced ready to attack. Caor restrained Grissam and tried to appease her. But nothing could calm her anger this easily. She had fought protecting her homeland and with that Aquilonia's northern borders, she had even fought in the king's own acreage too rid him of the dangers for his kingdom. And now she didn't even get an audience, because of some old and impotent curse. How else was she supposed to prove her loyalty. She felt betrayed for her right. She was close to attacking her allies, but a shred of her sanity urged her to leave. As soon as they left the palace her anger gave way to resignation and compunction. But nor for long.

»I have made it impossible even for you to speak to the king, Caor. But I will find another way to help our people.«

Grissam already had an idea. On her travels she heard about associations, aggregating many accomplished warriors to do what the administration couldn't. One of these guilds was Sealladh.

((That was my (a little extensive) introduction. I got some other ideas I'll continue in the Fireplace. Everyone is welcome to join in. Thanks to everyone who read until now.))