[Thinlómien]

Hey, it was Wilheard who hit Lithor, not Wulfric! But anyway, I think that if Lithor really was an old man not fit to fight anymore, it would be improper to start a fight with him, but as he was still a soldier, I can't see it as such a serious offense (you shouldn't trust W&W's opinion about him, they obviously think he's so old that he's soon in the grave because they're so young themselves, but really Lithor is like 50 or something...?)

Eorl, if Nerindel is around, you don't have to wait for her. You may use her character as a statist in your post with respect to what Nerindel has written about her (but I'd assume you know these basic RPG rules ).

Originally Posted by Eorl

Eeh... It's no fun threatening an NPC! Wait, who's that hot-tempered Northerner? Certainly not Thornen. He's the very definition of level-headed.

It's Crabannan.

Pio, could you replace this passage in Groin's post #691

Erbrand noticed some ladies fetching water from the stream that flowed into the marsh. The women were upstream and there was no worry about Erbrand polluting anything other than swamp water; however, it did not take long for Erbrand to hear their opinions of his revolting work. They sniffed the air and covered their noses in disgust, moaning and groaning at the smell. Erbrand could not stand being scorned at and his work being so unappreciated. In a rage he threw down his pole and angrily marched to where they were gathering water. They were not alone—there was a man with them. The two women were Ginna and Frodides and the man was a soldier, apparently ordered to help the two ladies and not enjoying his job. The soldier looked up, grimaced and gave a snort.

“Phhew! I came for drinking water, but looks like you need it for a bath. ” He said and stepped back, waving the air with his hand. Erbrand felt his rage rekindled.

“And who in tarnation are you to scorn me?” Erbrand bellowed. “Would you warm your hands in leather gloves? Saddle or bridle your horse? Do you dance to the sound of the drum or lace the chords of your armor? What about the bellows that heats the forge? It’s leather! Stinking leather. Do you want good shoes or do you not? Shall I create padding for the lord’s chairs? I hunt and trap for animals and I feed Scarburg with their meat and give people tools that make it possible for them to do their jobs. Why then do you scorn me?”

The soldier simply stared at him in dumb silence. Frodides and Ginna were doing the same although they were a bit more surprised at the outburst. Erbrand let out a long breath before finishing in a calmer yet sill annoyed voice.

“Now, let me get on with my scraper and dung, you hold your nostrils and hold your tongues.” Erbrand turned to leave when a rock hit him in the back.

“Heh, tanner, I do not accept words like that from anyone.” The soldier was just as angry as Erbrand was—the soldier wanted a fight.

“I’m not in the mood today soldier.” Erbrand said with particular emphasized scorn on the word soldier.

“Name’s Scyld and looks like you need to be taught some manners for your betters.”
That was all the provocation Erbrand needed. He spun round and with a mighty yell ran at the Scyld. The soldier, however, expected this struck a sidelong blow sending Erbrand spinning but not falling. Frodides and Ginna screamed and shouted for the two to stop. Blood was spilt, it was too late as Erbrand made apparent as he untied his leather apron and tossed it aside. There was a wild gleam in Erbrand’s eyes as he rushed again. He leaped, hoping to tackle Scyld, but the swarthy soldier stepped aside. Scyld laughed as Erbrand spat tufts of mossy grass from his mouth.

“Get up!” Scyld mocked. “Do you wish to play in the dirt?”

Another exclamation of rage escaped Erbrand’s lips. Again and again Erbrand was struck down until his nose was bleeding and his gums were cut. For the fifth time Erbrand arose, sagging, bleeding and weary. Scyld had been unhurt, keeping Erbrand at bay with ease.
“Do you wish to continue?” Scyld asked smiling.

Again Erbrand rushed at him in rage. Again the soldier stepped aside, tripping Erbrand.
“Stop this nonsense!” Frodides exclaimed.

The soldier regarded the woman and turned back to Erbrand giving him a firm kick. It was not hard, nor was it gentle, but it was enough to excite an anger that surpassed any that Erbrand had known up to that time. Such was the treatment one gave a disobedient dog.

“I’ll be seeing you later in the stocks.” Scyld jeered.

Whether Scyld said this to frighten Erbrand or whether he said it because it was true, Erbrand never found out. In a fight anger is as good as courage. With fingers extended like talons, Erbrand’s hands seized Scyld’s left leg with an iron grip and twisted it. The soldier gave a howl and collapsed next to Erbrand (who lost no time in returning Scyld’s punishment blow for blow). This time Ginna took up the chorus with Frodides.

“Stop it! Fool. You’ll kill him!”

The cry was not heeded. A knife flashed in the sunlight, it was Scyld’s. Erbrand struck relentlessly and hard. Soon he found his fingers around Scyld’s neck, pressing harder and tighter.

“I am not some dog you can kick. I am a man! I am a man!”

Soft small hands grasped his and beat his strong shoulders. Erbrand let go of Scyld’s throat. Ginna and Frodides knelt beside the Scyld. He was not moving.

“Fool!” Frodides said. “You will hang for this. You will hang!”

with this

Erbrand noticed some ladies fetching water from the stream that flowed into the marsh. The women were upstream and there was no worry about Erbrand polluting anything other than swamp water; however, it did not take long for Erbrand to find out their opinions of his revolting work. They sniffed the air and covered their noses. He could hear them exchanging some remarks and one of them was laughing. Erbrand could not stand being scorned at and his work being so unappreciated. In a rage he threw down his pole and angrily marched to where they were gathering water. They were not alone—there was a man with them. The two women were Ginna and Frodides and the man was a soldier, apparently ordered to help the two ladies and not enjoying his job.

The soldier looked up, grimaced and gave a snort. “Phhew! I came for drinking water, but looks like you came for a bath. ” Erbrand felt his rage rekindled.

“And who in tarnation are you to scorn me?” Erbrand bellowed. “Would you warm your hands in leather gloves? Saddle or bridle your horse? Do you dance to the sound of the drum or lace the chords of your armor? What about the bellows that heats the forge? It’s leather! Stinking leather. Do you want good shoes or do you not? Shall I create padding for the lord’s chairs? I hunt and trap for animals and I feed Scarburg with their meat and give people tools that make it possible for them to do their jobs. Why then do you scorn me?”

The soldier simply stared at him. Frodides and Ginna were doing the same although they were a bit more surprised at the outburst. Erbrand let out a long breath before finishing in a calmer yet sill annoyed voice.

“Now, let me get on with my scraper and dung, you hold your nostrils and hold your tongues.” Erbrand turned to leave when a pebble hit him in the back.

“Hey, tanner, watch your tongue.”

“I’m not in the mood today, soldier.” Erbrand said with particular emphasized scorn on the word soldier.

“Name’s Scyrr. And looks like you need to be taught some manners for your betters.”

That was all the provocation Erbrand needed. He spun round and with a mighty yell ran at the Scyrr. The soldier, however, expected this struck a sidelong blow sending Erbrand spinning but not falling. Frodides and Ginna yelled at the two to stop. Blood was spilt, it was too late as Erbrand made apparent as he untied his leather apron and tossed it aside. There was a wild gleam in Erbrand’s eyes as he rushed again. He leaped, hoping to tackle Scyrr, but the swarthy soldier stepped aside. Scyrr laughed as Erbrand spat tufts of mossy grass from his mouth.

"Hope you learnt your lesson, tanner."

Another exclamation of rage escaped Erbrand’s lips. Again and again Erbrand was struck down until his nose was bleeding and his gums were cut. For the fifth time Erbrand arose, sagging, bleeding and weary. Scyrr had been unhurt, keeping Erbrand at bay with ease.
“Do you still wish to continue?” Scyrr asked, smiling.

Again Erbrand rushed at him in rage. Again the soldier stepped aside, tripping Erbrand.
“Enough! Stop this nonsense!” Frodides exclaimed.

The soldier regarded the woman and turned back to Erbrand giving him a kick on the calf. It was not hard, nor was it gentle, but it was enough to excite an anger that surpassed any that Erbrand had known up to that time. Such was the treatment one gave a disobedient dog.

“I’m done - for today”, Scyrr said.

Whether Scyrr said this to frighten Erbrand or whether he said it because it was true, Erbrand never found out. In a fight anger is as good as courage. With fingers extended like talons, Erbrand’s hands seized Scyrr’s left leg with an iron grip and twisted it. The soldier gave a howl and collapsed next to Erbrand (who lost no time in returning Scyrr’s punishment blow for blow). This time Ginna took up the chorus with Frodides.

“Stop it! Fools. Before somebody gets hurt badly!”

The cry was not heeded. A knife flashed in the sunlight, it was Scyrr’s.

"Get off my leg or I'll sting you with this!" the soldier growled.

Erbrand struck relentlessly and hard. Soon he found his fingers around Scyrr’s neck, pressing harder and tighter.

“I am not some dog you can kick. I am a man! I am a man!”

Soft small hands grasped his and beat his strong shoulders. Erbrand let go of Scyrr’s throat. Ginna and Frodides knelt beside the Scyrr. He was not moving.

“Fools!” Frodides cursed.
Ginna's face was pale when she tried to find his pulse. “If he's dead ... Erbrand, if he's dead, you will hang for this.”

? Thanks a lot already in advance!

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Edited!! ~*~ Pio