#orcberserker

JalaIan was riding in search of thi. Krajyk fellow that had come to the camp weeks ago asking for a new battle axe. Jalian had helped Anahiil forging the weapon , advising him to not add any detail that wasn't completely necesary for the weapon to work perfectly. It was a nice weapon, black as midnight and sharp as fear with a good weight to it.

((College has eaten me alive once again and I'm popping on now to do the replies I need to, but I'm not sure when I'll be able to come back. I'll try keep it regular enough!! Sorry if you were wondering were I'd gone. If you're expecting art from me, it might be a while, I'm sorry!!

Swings was once again not paying attention during one of his walks, having crouched down to examine some interesting flowers by the side of the path. They smelled exquisite, and he wondered what they were called.

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts he didn't hear footsteps approaching, and looked up at just the wrong moment to see a massive Orc just above him. He made a quiet noise somewhere between a squeak and a whimper, then tried to gather himself and stood up, offering out a shaky hand.

“I don’t know of any families from Cyrodiil. And Winterhold is probably my favourite city, as all the others are much too busy. Aside from Falkreath.” He chuckled, reminiscing on his travels. “I’d like to build a house out in the tundra, if I do ever settle down. Overlooking the Sea of Ghosts…” He aimed the words more towards himself than her. “Oh, sorry. My mind wandered.” He chuckled, grinning widely.

She nodded, an obvious wave of relief passing over her.

"The Sea of Ghosts is a beautiful place. A bit eerie but the glaciers are divine." she said, smiling. "Particularly when you can see old Nordic ruins peaking through the seemingly immortal ice. I like those. There's apparently a few dwarven ruins too but I've not came across them."

A lot of people's heads turned to watch the armour clanking through Whiterun, including that of the guard on duty at the gates. It was just a little bit hard to tell a seven-foot tall Orc in full armour to stay out of trouble. Trouble probably came to him, whether he wanted it or not. For Trond, who had grown outwards rather than upwards, it was probably wisest to keep quiet.

But wise ideas, and holding his tongue, were not responses he was known for. In fact, it was practically a challenge.