The Dragons Rainbow
Name: Brunhilda Mar’Altell
Height: 5’10 ½”
Weight: 170 lbs-ish
Country of Origin: The Lhazaar Principalities
Weapon of Choice: Great Axe
Fighting Style: The Brunhilda Super Combat Strategy (aka randomness)
“Hilda dear, can you hand me that reed?”
“Here you go,” a tall, tan, and blonde headed young women said as she passed along a reed from the bundle she had down by her feet.
Dressed in a simple white frock with a braided sash pulling it tight against her waist, one wouldn’t be able to imagine that this demure looking creature was in fact Brunhilda, the Scourge of the North (or so she liked to call herself). Her soft blonde hair was neatly combed, parted down the middle, and separated into two large braids that fell down her shoulders and over the front of her dress. Her feet were clad in simple shoes. The only striking feature or accessory was a large pendant that was bound on a silver chain around her neck. It was made of silver, and resembled something of elven make. Silver tendrils spun and looped on themselves, incasing a large blue stone, something that looked very expensive and out of place in such a small town, and more out of place on the neck of simple Hilda, the Basket Weaver.
“That is such a beautiful necklace that Wesley brought you from his last trip.” The older woman spoke as she wrapped the reed through the others on the basket she was making.
“Yes… It’s far too pretty, I’m afraid of losing it.” Hilda blushed and turned her attention back to the basket in hand.
“Hilda… I hear that Wesley is wanting children soon.” The woman spoke with a chipper tone. After all, everyone woman wanted to be a mother… at least she thought they did.
“Oh… Children… Yes….” Hilda mumbled, her brow furling as she worked faster on her basket. Two more, and she could call it a day and go home, where she didn’t have to listen to the constant rabble of the village women.
It really bothered her, how the women of this village were content with their boring lives, consigned to menial labor while their husbands left for the war or sailed away in search of glory, honor, and riches. She could do that too, couldn’t she? Her father, before he had passed away, had always told her to pursue her dreams, to be who she was meant to be. Being the only child of a widower, Hilda was practically raised as a boy. It wasn’t until she was “adopted” by the village women that she became the humble beauty that caught the attention of one Captain Wesley Mar’Altell, a pirate whose ship often stopped by their sleepy little burg.
To make a long story short, there was a year of courting, then a wedding, and here we find Brunhilda consigned to the life she dreaded and pitied the women for having.
The next day came like all the others. Brunhilda attended to the chores around her little house, had her breakfast, and read a few pages from the book of adventures that Wesley had brought her last time he had been in town. He was due to be landing soon, probably in the next day or so. Needless to say, Hilda was terrified. He had been mentioned having kids, and now the village was mentioning it to. Before long, Hilda imagined she’d be turned into a baby-maker… something she did not think to fondly of.
“How I wish I could go out adventuring… Or even aid in the war…” Hilda mused as she tucked her book away. She stood and clenched her fist in the air. “I’ve got more combat training then most of the lousy boys they send from here. I could really show it to those blasted mainlanders!”
. . .
“Can you pass me that reed, deary?”
“Here you are, ma’am.”
“Wesley should be here tomorrow or the next day… Should we be expecting any little babes from the two of you?”
. . . Brunhilda felt the vein in her head pop up. Her eyes narrowed, staring down the older woman who sat across from her.
“Excuse me?” Twitch twitch.
“I’m sorry deary, I don’t mean to be too nosey. But it’s about time. Your 20, and not getting any younger.”
Twitch twitch twitch twitch twitch…. snap.
“POX ROT IT ALL! I AIN’T HAVIN’ NO BABIES!” Hilda shouted as she stood up and threw the basket she was working on into the air.
The rest is, as they say… history. Hilda went on a small rage, turning over tables, pulling her braids out, even biting a goat. She grabbed a few belongings, her father’s old armor, a wood axe, and left her tiny little village.
If you asked Hilda how she got off the island and onto the mainland, she would tell you this.
“Me? Why I befriend a giant sea otter. As we made our way to deh mainland, I slayed a kraken… No… It was THREE Kraken! So when I got to shore, I was already hailed as a hero… The otter? Well he went back to his otter family with honor great then any other giant otter.”