Letter to Lord Hawkmoon

[Sinold Bragasson]

For the past few days now Sinold had tried to hunt down Lord Hawkmoon to talk to him about earning his keep – and the keep of his soon-to-be family – as a guard of Windstorm. Knighthood seemed out of reach right now, but he couldn't just sit here and fix boats, dry fish or forge swords. he was a warrior, he needed a purpose. Even without the prospect of someday soon marrying Letha and having children with her.

He was told Hawkmoon was … shopping? What in Thor's name did a man shopping, he wondered, already pictured the man wearing pink ribbons and puffy shirts when returning… when it was explained to him that he was merely looking after some of the ladies during their shopping trip to the village. What an amusing thought – Hawkmoon, grim and foreboding, bartering for a good price with a fish monger in the streets while the ladies looked on. HA!

Well, so he would find Sinold's note once he'd return … it would be early enough. He gave the sealed parchment to one of the barrack guards, still sporting an amused smile on his lips as the picture of Hawkmoon on a shopping trip wouldn't leave his mind.

The note read thusly:


Lord Hawkmoon,

I have been a member of this household for a few months now, and I feel idleness settling upon me in a disturbing fastness. I am a warrior by traide, not used to sitting without duties. I also will soon have a family to feed and must thus seek work for pay. I am asking herewith to be admitted to the guards of Windstorm, and will undergo any kind of training you may expect of me. By now you should know my heart is with this realm and its people… I seek to devend it and earn my keep as its devender.

I ask for a metting once you are back from… shoping!


Sinold Bragasson


Still snickering a bit, Sinold made his way back to the castle proper to take a long extensive nap.

[Dorian Hawkmoon]

Hawk OOC


Will post a reply to this as soon as the Ladies allow Hawk to go Home....chuckles

[Sinold Bragasson]

(Sure, n prob. if you'll ever get out of those shops alife! )

[Sinold Bragasson]

It had been a sobering experience, one which Sinold had hoped to have been able to avoid.

As he rode into the night, he kept shaking his head – why had he even bothered? It should have been clear to him from the beginning how his request would be received. Being a guard of Windstorm... being one of *his* guards... in hindsight, it had been a reduículous notion to begin with, and when he had tried to talk with Lord Hawkmoon about the possibility of him becoming one of his men last night... all he had met was a wall of icy coldness and derision.

To be then left standing like a petulent child not understanding that it was unfit for joining that special group.

Something had snapped inside Sinold at that moment of being so utterly dismissed, when he saw the Lord striding out of the great hall without another word to him. The subject was closed, and all Sinold felt was anger, resentment, humilation. Had he not bled for his family and thus proved his loyalty? Had he not overcome his own reservations and did *ask*, something which had been hard for him to begin with? Had he not acknowledged the Lord’s fine selection of men and training, and even told him to his face that he would obey his word if taken as one of them?

Hawkmoon appeared to have heard nothing, and instead had left to attend more important matters.

That was it then. Sinold would not try again to reach out to the arrogant man. He would not again try and fit Hawkmoon’s image of what a warrior or even a member of this family should be. For, to him, Sinold was and would remain a barbarian only, tolerated maybe but not desired. There thus was no point in staying in the hall any longer last night... he wouldn’t give Hawkmoon the final satisfaction of making clear his sentiments and utter the final rejection and insinuation of his unworthiness to his face.

Instead, Sinold had walked to the stables, throwing a blanket over the faithful mare Ligea and mounted up, driving her out the stables and out of Windstorm’s main gate. He needed to get out... for otherwise his temper would result in something nobody would want.

Thus, riding alone into the night, Sinold tried to let himself be calmed by the acceptance of himslef by his Gods and by the stars above him. Since his sword wasn’t wanted by the nobles of Windstorm, he would find some other occupation to try and make a living. But for now, he would try to let the coolness of night and the slight rain wash away the resentments he felt towards the Lord who so adamently seemed refused to make even the slightest attempt to bridge the chasm between them. That breech would never be sealed, Sinold knew now, and a tiny part within him even regretted that fact.

But be that as it may - for the time being, Sinold was free and could let out his anger, frustration and the intense feeling of uselessness that seemed to dorwn him into the night.