Jack Scarthe

'Northern Jack'

Played by: dutychef

INFORMATION

Human, Male, 35

Aliases: None
Nationality: English
Residence: York
Employer: The Hounds
Function: Leader

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Our wisdom flows so sweet. Taste and see.

TRANSMIT - initiate the Óðinn call - RECEIVE - heed the skald's tale -FROM THE FURY OF THE NORSEMEN, GOOD LORD DELIVER US - cast the rune stones - WITNESS - Northern Jack.

The tasters of blood whisper of the hero of old. He that wades into battle, clad in wolf skin. The shield biter, the red hand... the Berserker.

Initiate the Danelaw.

Norsemen took the city in the eleventh month. In the years that followed they left their seed and their beliefs, beliefs that lingered on. As the Attende Domine bellows, the All Father whispers.

Skip forward enough centuries and the echo of the skald's songs still whispers:

ōs byþ ordfruma ǣlcre sprǣce

wīsdōmes wraþu and wītena frōfur

and eorla gehwām ēadnys and tō hiht

High upon the windy tree Huginn and Muninn watch. They see the warrior mount Yggdrasil. The body is battered but willing, the mind is truly spent. Jörmungandr coils about his neck, ragnarök of the mortal soul. As the light of Valhalla plays upon the warrior´s gasping face, Geri and Freki howl.

The flies dance The wind blows The body turns The rope gives The soul lives The fire burns The path opens

He left upon a sunlit morn. To cross the Northern sea. My dark headed Yorkshire boy, Never said goodbye to me.

He went up to the mountains, To see what he could be. My dark headed Yorkshire boy, Never said goodbye to me.

He went into the forests, To finally be set free. My dark headed Yorkshire boy, Was forever lost to me.

The snow falls. Geri and Freki stand mute witness as he hunts their kin. The hunters circle each other. The wolf leaps as the man charges. Spear meets flesh. A howl splits the silence. The man honours his kill. He wears his bloody raiment. Úlfheðinn. Odin's man. Huginn and Muninn caw his victory.

The man walks amongst the living once more. He is flesh and blood but fire courses through his veins. Neither blade nor spell tell upon him when the fury seizes him. The All-Father sends him forth. Before he can sup his mead and sit besides the fire once more in the long hall there is work to be done. Myths and legends walk unseen upon the land. The old tales are the new secrets. The Úlfheðinn must follow the Whispers. The old threats are the new disaster. The Úlfheðinn follow the Ur-Druag.