#isofgregor

Mun here...

So when I started this blog, I had decided to dedicate it strictly to roleplay and to awesome art featuring Gregor. Occasionally if I saw something FE related that was really funny or just really good I would post it here too, but I tried to keep things exclusively Gregor. However, recently I’ve been finding it harder and harder to find images that our favorite sellsword is in and have noticed that some of my posts with the most notes are ones that just gave everyone a good chuckle. 

Hey guys, mun here.

Sorry for being away for so long. I wasn’t trying to be inactive here, I just got hit pretty bad with some anxiety bullshit that made me not wanna do anything and kept me down for awhile. If this kind of thing has happened to you before, then you know how bad it can suck. But if being Gregor has taught me anything its that you cant let your past and your sorrows weigh you down. I’m feeling better now and want to get back into things! 

So here is the deal...

1. If I owe you a reply, let me know and I’ll do what I can to try to pick things up where we left off.

2. If you are interested in a starter, let me know and I’ll come up with one as soon as I can.

@daughter-of-heroes

Gregor grumbled as he trudged his way across camp towards the guard station. As the sun was starting to go down, so too was the mercenary’s disposition. The reason that Gregor was in such a grumpy mood was due to the fact that he had been selected by Frederick for night patrol duty; an assignment that the sellsword despised.

It wasn’t a particularly difficult duty, it was just painfully dull. You basically reported to the guard station at sundown, checked in, grabbed a torch, and walked circles around the camp until the sun came back up. Now that the war was over, the evenings were quiet about 99% of the time. Gregor knew that a quiet night made for a safe one, but also a boring one as well.

In Gregor’s mind, this job was beneath him. Being a sellsword had taught him that a paying job is a paying job, but doing night watch was a total waste of his talents. Normally the new recruits had to handle this; an easy job for guys who were earning their stripes. He had even gotten assigned to night watch once or twice during the war when manpower was at a low. But being commanded to do it now? Gregor was convinced that Frederick was punishing him for some reason.

As the sellsword approached the guard station, he kicked a pebble that was unfortunate enough to be lying in his path. Not surprisingly, It brought him little joy. He entered the wooden building that was serving as the guard station and without making eye contact with the other soldier, walked right over to the parchment where he was supposed to sign in.

But as he went to scrawl his name onto the paper, he noticed something unexpected that caught his eye. Next to his name was another that the sellsword did not recognize; probably some new recruit who wanted to play soldier after hearing about the shepherds during the war. But the name that he didn’t recognize had been scratched out and replaced with one that he did know: Morgan.

@cherryhairedcherche

It was an uncharacteristically cold winter for Ylisse. The denizens of the kingdom had been blindsided left and right by snow. Temperatures were dropping, crops weren’t growing, and trade had virtually ground to a halt. As a result, the haildom was hurting. Bad. So in order to combat these conditions Chrom sent out a series of relief caravans, to dispatch supplies to the needy. A noble and much appreciated effort, but a bitter and grueling job for those shepherds assigned to escort them. 

And Gregor happened to be one of those lucky shepherds. Normally, the seasoned sellsword enjoyed the cold and found that ice and snow reminded him of his homeland. But this particular winter did not seem to have that effect on Gregor. And trudging through the snow and icy winds proved to be very tiring for him and felt like murder on his back. But Gregor would never let anyone else know that he was struggling, so he continued to put on an energetic facade. The last thing he wanted was for his fellow shepherds to think that he wasn’t up to the task.

But things were not all bad. Sure, wandering around in freezing temperatures with the wind blowing at your face could put a damper on anyone’s mood, but at least he had a friend with him. Cherche, a fellow shepherd and skilled wyvren rider, had been selected to join Gregor and accompany him in the task of delivering the supply wagon to the good people of Ylisee,  

@pannewhiskers

An hour had passed since the battle had finished.. Gregor, who was bloody, bruised, and slightly battered, tried to get off his feet. With the help of a nearby rock and practically every ounce of energy that he had left, the mercenary was now standing fully on two wobbly legs. He tentatively took a step forward with his right leg, but a sharp pain shot right up his thigh and brought him back down to his knees; he clearly wasn’t ready to move yet.

After landing with a hard thud and cursing whatever gods were responsible for his pain, Gregor looked around at the carnage that surrounded him. He saw weapons lying strewn about, pieces of armor flung far from their owners, arrows sticking out from the ground and from trees, and several corpses (or what was left of them) belonging to the risen, now slowly starting to fade away.

The plan was simple. A group of risen was supposedly spotted in the forest not far from Ylisse’s capital. A small, elite team of skillful shepherds would have been more than enough to swiftly enter the forest, slay the remaining risen, and return home in time for supper. But nothing was ever that simple. There were more risen than the shepherds had accounted for. A lot more. 

It didn’t take long for chaos to ensue. Gregor and the few other shepherds were quickly caught off guard in an ambush as waves upon waves of the undead blighters emerged from the trees. They attacked from all sides, hitting every angle and eventually driving a wedge between the shepherds. Gregor was so caught up in the fighting that he hadn’t even realized he was separated from the remainder of his party. Or that he was injured as badly as he was.

@crimson-cavalier

As the end of the year drew near, with Ylisse’s weather growing colder and her days noticeably shorter, Gregor set off to Ylisstol’s marketplace one frigid afternoon in order to do some shopping. While it was true that the mercenary usually preferred to make money instead of spending it, today was a special exception.  Today, he was on his way to buy gifts for his friends and fellow shepherds. Gregor was fairly excited to do this. Last year, due to the war, the end of the year celebrations were very lackluster. An extra ration of food, an old bottle of grog or, if you were really lucky, a hastily knitted garment was all one could expect to receive as a gift. But not this year! Ylisse was finally at peace and people had gold in their pockets that they were willing to spend.

But as Gregor arrived at the marketplace, his initial confidence and vigor seemed to fade almost instantly. The town square was packed to the brim with people who all had a similar idea. Townsfolk elbowed past one another, ducking in and out of shops with armfuls of goods.  Merchants lined the streets with their carts, all claiming to have the best deals and merchandise. And children ran about in every direction, clutching onto special holiday treats while hurling lumps of snow at each other. Seeing all these focused shoppers really made the mercenary feel like he was out of his element. On top of that, holiday gift giving was a concept that was somewhat foreign to him. The new year was ushered in slightly differently in his homeland, so he had very little idea as to what was considered an appropriate holiday gift; he had learned last year that apparently a sword did not fall under this category!

Feeling somewhat overwhelmed and at a loss of what to do, Gregor ducked into the first shop that he came across. There were less people in here than outside, but the establishment was still clearly crowded. Towards the entrance, shrewd buyers were inspecting vases carefully and haggling with the shopkeeper over what an acceptable price should be. Gregor felt the need to avoid all of that nonsense and worked his way to the back of the store, where it would hopefully be less crowded. There were still many faces in this part of the store, but one familiar one caught his eye really quickly. 

Unexpectedly enough, Gregor spotted his friend and fellow shepherd Sully, casually perusing a stocked shelf filled with odds and ends. During the war the two of them had fought side by side on many occasions, Gregor always being impressed by her strength and riding ability. He recalled that Sully had a slightly headstrong personality, but on and off the battlefield she was brave, swift, and fierce, truly a force to be reckoned with; practically everything you looked for in a soldier. Seeing her in this shop made Gregor feel a bit less anxious about the shopping frenzy going on around him, and he approached his friend.