Isle of Avalon ⚔️️ Network

Alright, I suppose this should be said again. But for those going after the Fisher King. Don't. Touch. The. Seahorses.

[Said by a familiar-looking woman. Currently dressed up in something that at least fit him better than the clothing that he had on previously.

Beowulf looks slightly annoyed right now, scowling and such. But the annoyance is more towards himself than at the stupid seahorses.]

A little late, but for those interested my familiar and I are going to be lighting up a fire and getting drinks and food ready for Jól. Normally we would celebrate for around 12 days, but I don't think that's in the cards this time.

[He was currently outside of his flat now, making a little goat with a few others set up and hung around the area alongside sprigs of mistletoe.]

So, f any of you lot want to come over and help or celebrate and party, make sure you bring a bit extra food and drink with you. I don't have enough to feed all hundred or so of you. Or however many there are of you right now.

[In the background his familiar could be seen playing her string instrument and singing a tune.]

In fact, unlike the one with the fairies, I encourage you to eat and drink as much as you want and bring as much as you want or can. It's not too different from what happened with the fairies. But you don't have to really do anything special for this one beyond relax and party. You can get naked if you want, but you'll end up being the one to talk to the authorities, not me.

If you're interested in popping over, I'll be lighting the tree up after nightfall.

[He was busy drinking after the after party in a bar with most of all its patrons now hungover and passed out. Beowulf was still drinking and his familiar was giggling as she silently playing a stringed instrument, surrounded by drunken men passed out (much to her chagrin, though she doesn't show it). Though her own face flushed bright red as well, hair and clothes messy as she played and hummed her tune softly and gently. Lullabying the revelers from earlier in an almost enchanting way.]

Hm... music huh?

Was never much of one for flyting, or being a skald. Except for a few times, like with the kin-killer Hunferð. Though he made it far too easy, the drunken leech.

"Are you not Beowulf, the young and prideful, fool who challenged mighty Breca to a swimming match across the North sea in the dead of winter? The same one that had ignored all attempts to stop him from such a foolish endeavor. Only to lose at the end, gaining nothing but shame and sickness; while Breca had been welcomed warmly and showered with treasures. How can we expect such a man as Beowulf to overcome the demon Grendel when all he has to offer are prideful boasts with nothing to show for it?"

[He takes another swig. Then frowns as he looks inside his cup, looking older. Much, much older than his current form would lead others to believe. A man nearing his 80's.]

Fie! That's not a story I wish to tell now. A song, one last song to end this night of the dead. Something to help see off the spirits. And one more drink to prove to this lot why they should not try to out drink me again.

[He downs a good amount of his mug, slamming it down on the table loudly as an exhausted barkeep moved to fill it. One last time as Beowulf drummed his fingers on the table, humming to himself, eyes closing. Then sang. With his familiar soon changing tunes and following along with Beowulf's own. The barkeep themselves is tapping along as well.]

Þat mælti mín móðir,
at mér skyldi kaupa
fley ok fagrar árar,
fara á brott með víkingum,
standa upp í stafni,
stýra dýrum knerri,
halda svá til hafnar
hǫggva mann ok annan,
hǫggva mann ok annan.

[ Video + potential action]

For those of you that are digging for the dragon's horde and wish to keep some for yourself. That's cool and all, but remember to at least give away most of what you're able to. Things kept and horded by greed, and guarded by malice, often hold a certain weight to them. That said... I'm still not fully put together, need a bit of helping digging through the rubble. For those able and willing to, the help will be appreciated.

[And true to his word, anyone taking a trip to the ruins of what was once the dragon's lair will find a worn Beowulf, attempting to move rubble and collect what he could from what was left from the horde. Whether the treasure was damaged or not. It could all help in some way, he figured.]

[Video sometime later // Locked to fujimaru]

[He adjusts the large back on his shoulders, the sound of jingling resonated from it. A chosen assortment of goods he had picked out of the rubble. Not quite as valuable as the ones he'd been planning on giving away, but still quite precious. He didn't think it would be much, but with any luck it'd make her life a bit easier. Not like he was going to keep any of it, it was better to see that his master was better propped up in any case.]

Oi, master. Where can I meet you?

[He tried making it sound less like a demand as much as he could. Though the gruff and to the point tone in his voice most likely made it difficult to distinguish.]

[Video sometime later // Locked to peninhand]

[Right, one last gift. It might be a bit late, he realized. And perhaps not the best time. But he figured she might still enjoy the bit of attention or acknowledgement for her day of birth. Besides, he felt bad for having taken off and not shown as he had.]

Monika, you able to meet up?

[Probably a sudden call, but he was never one to beat around the bush.]

[ooc: just a real quick log post to try and help wrap things up with him event-wise.]