I am Herjolf, so named by my parents. I am also the Wanderer, so named by myself. I stride Medieval with my long legs, and face it with a pinched, intense, clean-shaven face framed in dirty blonde hair. I was born to a family of soldiers, and most of my childhood acquaintances were in the barracks.
It is my plan to seek my fortune as an adventurer and man at arms; however, I know this world to be a punishing place for fools who neglect the cultivation of the mind, so I must hone my skills and marshall my resources carefully before taking on any danger.
A Sentimental Value: Metal
I watched helplessly as the bailiffs moved my family possessions out of my childhood home. I could only sigh and let these mementos of my happy youth go. One item, however, caught my eye, and I had to keep it. Approaching the bailiffs, I asked them to let me keep the battered metal shield that sat atop the last pile of crates they were set to move. I knew that shield could be of much use to me in my adventures to come.
The household possessions were not encumbered by any sort of lien, so the bailiffs were happy to let me take the shield. Clutching it gratefully to my arm, I muttered some sort of thank you, then went hastily away lest I be tempted to hoard other, less useful items.
As I inspected the room I had just rented, I heard a tap on the doorframe behind me. Thinking that it was Stefan or one of the wenches at first, I instead was surprised to see Erni the Captain, a friend of my late parents, standing at the door. He was a big, imposing man, who filled much of the doorframe. His greying hear was cropped short, and he regarded me with unsettlingly keen blue eyes.
I thought the coincidence of his appearance too great, so I demanded, perhaps a bit rudely, why he was there.
He explained, without any sign of apology or embarrassment, that he was keeping watch on me per my late mother's request. He told me that he hoped that I would make something in the world, and that he intended to help me do so however he could.
Reflections On Your Mother
I grew up surrounded by men, soldiers, who mostly knew and spoke of little other than war, sport, politics, and technology. My mother was perhaps the sole contact I had with femininity. She taught me to cook, to read, to talk, how to behave towards people. It was she who fed my dreams of greatness, of becoming a leader of men as opposed to merely a fighter and killer of them. I hope that she is proud of me, wherever she is now.
Deity of Herjolf
Saetha embodies the values of kindness and empathy, of justice tempered by mercy, of understanding and peace. She does not tolerate cruelty, pettiness, or vindictiveness. She often appears as a young girl in a simple cassock and a shaven head, although her identity is often betrayed by a deeper voice and more mature manner than this form would lead one to expect. She expects her followers to give alms, and to embody her virtues.
The Beauty of Lady Fluke
Lovely, lovely, Lady Fluke
Your features are beyond rebuke.
Your skin so skinny, your nose so nosey
Your legs so leggy, your toes so toesy.
Your smile so smiley, your cheeks so cheeky
Your smell is aromatic, not reeky.
And so, all praise the Lady Fluke!
If you don't, you are a stupid mook.