Wulfnod
Approved Character
Winter 65, Year 125 of the Third Age
Wulfnoð felt the soft winds glide across his scalp, the incredibly short cut of his hair allowing him to be more in tune with the flowing air currents as he crouched low at the edge of the training grounds, eyes scanning the horizon. His breath came in slow deep inhales followed by quick exhales, his gaze fixed ahead. While his gaze was fixed to the horizon, his mind was not focused on what he was looking at. Instead, it was the frustration of what always occurred when flying at higher speeds, that being essentially blindness due to the strong winds whipping against his eyes and face. He could feel the familiar hum of magic in his very soul, the faint pulse of his Zephyr mark hidden beneath his clothing. He had learned long ago to keep it covered, since having his arcane mark visible was never a good idea. Not in a world where magic was often associated with danger. But it was there, beneath his dark clothing. He wasn't worried about the flight itself. Zephyr came naturally to him now—his body had long since adapted to the way the wind could carry him, how momentum combined with magic would pull him through the air once he'd gathered enough speed. The key was the running start. Once he was fast enough, Soar would take over and carry his momentum into the air, using various bursts of Aeromancy1 to adjust his trajectory and even speed up when needed. But obviously, he couldn't go too fast, namely able to only go about double his running speed.
Today, he would find a solution to the asinine issue of his temporary blindness.
After completing his warm-up sprints, Wulfnoð shook his head, his frustration palpable. The wind tugged at the edges of his clothing as he flew across the city of Bahn'Shei, thinking to himself what he needed. Most likely, a pair of goggles. But they had to be special. He'd spent too much time searching for a solution. A craftsman in the city, someone by the name of Laran, had been recommended to him by a few other raiders. Supposedly, Laran could make anything. He was skilled, precise, and—Wulfnoð hoped—capable of crafting a pair of goggles that would stay in place during flight. With determination, Wulfnoð set off toward the city edge2, his clothing swirling behind him as his Soar ability carried him quickly through the forest and across the fields to the city outskirts. His eyes were fixed straight ahead. He'd endured enough inconvenience already.
Laran's workshop was situated in a part of the city Wulfnoð didn't know as well, a place where craftsmen often gathered. Wulfnoð hated the noise that filled the marketplace normally. But when it came to practical solutions, he didn't mind spending a little more effort even if it meant dealing with traders. Laran's shop was smaller than most and tucked between two other buildings, with a sign that read "Laran's Oddities & Crafts." He opened the door calmly, the unique clang of metal on metal ringing out as he stepped into the space.
"Ah, hello!" came a clear voice from behind the cluttered workbench. Laran, a small man with wild straw-colored hair and a wide toothy grin, stood with a piece of twisted metal in hand. His face was covered in soot and burn marks, a clear intuitiveness visible in his eyes as he set the metal down. "You've come to get something made, haven't you?"
Wulfnoð narrowed his eyes slightly but nodded. "I need something simple, yeah. Goggles specifically. They need to stay on my face when I'm flying. Something definitely functional over form."
Laran chuckled, wiping his hands on his apron. "You've come to the right place. I can definitely do that for you. But first, tell me about the way you fly. I assume you've got the Zephyr mark, but how does that work for you?" The fact that he wasn't surprised about the flying remark meant that he most likely dealt with quite a few galsterei in his lifetime.
Wulfnoð briefly considered the question. "I use the momentum of a running start, then let the wind carry me once I've gained enough speed. Doesn't take much, but I need the wind to catch me. If I don't get enough speed, it's useless. But when I do, the wind does the rest."
Laran's eyes focused as Wulfnoð spoke, nodding to himself. "Ah, I see. So, Zephyr is your arcana, but not being able to increase your momentum without going blind is the issue. Now, the goggles, they'll need to be able to resist that increased speed, stay on your face. The straps will need to be able to repair themselves, since frost buildup at high speeds and altitudes can easily cause the leather to develop tearing and eventually break. And speaking of frost, the lenses will also need to be treated to prevent them from frosting or cracking."
Wulfnoð let out a grunt in agreement. "That's right. I've been dealing with the frost already, but I imagine that with intense speed increase, any normal goggles will snap under constant frosting and defrosting."
"Hmm." Laran paused thoughtfully, tapping his chin. "I've got just the materials for that. I'll need a gram of saolite for the straps, it'll mend the straps if they get torn or damaged. And I'll need a gram of ardorite for the lenses, that'll keep them from frosting up in colder winds. All in all, it'll cost you those two grams as well as my usual fee."
Wulfnoð frowned slightly at the price, but he had enough to cover it. He was used to paying for what he needed, and these goggles would be well worth the cost. "Alright," Wulfnoð said, pulling out a small piece of parchment and using a piece of charcoal to write down the two materials, spelling them out how Laran told him to spell them. "I'll bring the saolite and ardorite tomorrow. Can you get them done by the end of the week?"
"Of course!" Laran said, his grin widening. "I'll have them ready before you know it. You'll never go blind again while flying, I promise."
The next morning, Wulfnoð made his way to the merchant stalls at the edge of the market. Finding the two materials weren't difficult, but they were rare—and expensive. After some bargaining and a few unpleasant haggles with grumpy merchants, he acquired the necessary materials: a gram of saolite dust and a gram of ardorite dust. Each one had its own price, but they were essential for the job. Wulfnoð made sure the transaction was quick, exchanging the necessary coin for the materials before heading back to Laran's workshop. Wulfnoð returned to Laran's workshop that afternoon, where the craftsman was already busy at his workbench, the room lit by the soft glow of a nearby candle. He set the two pouches on the table, and Laran wasted no time examining the materials.
"These are perfect," Laran said with a grin. "Saolite for the straps and ardorite for the lenses... This'll work just as planned."
"Good," Wulfnoð replied. "I don't want to be stuck in the air blind ever again."
Laran smirked a bit as he started his work. "Trust me, you won't be. I'll make sure these goggles are perfect for what you need them for. You'll be able to fly faster than you ever have before."
Over the next week, Wulfnoð checked in with the craftsman. Laran worked with care, infusing the straps with the saolite and the lenses with ardorite as he needed as not to overwhelm the materials with the powdered arcana. Wulfnoð couldn't help but feel relief mixed with worry over each passing day, praying to whatever higher power that would listen that the goggles would just work. When they were finally done, Wulfnoð wasted no time returning to the shop, entering the building as carefully as he did the first time. He could see the goggles that were resting on the table, functional and sleek in appearance. The lenses were clear and smooth, with no signs of scratching or miscreation, and the straps looked sturdy.
"Here they are. Try them on." Laran spoke with a pride in his work, looking between his current customer and the product he had made.
Wulfnoð strapped the goggles over his head, feeling the straps adjust comfortably to fit his face. The cool sensation of the lenses against his skin sent a quiet thrill through him. He could already feel the enchantments working—the saolite keeping the straps in the best condition possible while on his head, the ardorite ensuring the lenses would remain clear in any weather. "They feel good," Wulfnoð said, his voice soft as he gave the straps a quick tug. "Snug. I like it."
"Now go test them," Laran urged. "Let's see if they live up to the promise."
Without another word, Wulfnoð turned and ran toward the open window of the workshop. His body moved with practiced ease as he sprinted forward, gathering momentum, feeling the wind rise in answer to his every step. The moment he had enough speed, he leaped into the air, squaring himself right through the window. The wind caught him3, and for the first time ever, he could see while flying quickly. No slipping of the goggles, no falling off. He dove and twisted in the air, pushing himself to the limits of his ability, and the goggles never wavered. He flew higher, faster4, and with a small, rare smile, he whispered to himself, "Finally."
The wind roared past Wulfnoð's ears as he ascended higher into the sky. The goggles, secured tightly against his face, held firm even as he cut through the air with the grace of a bird. His arcana—his body—felt the wind beneath him, an old friend that had been absent for too long. It was exhilarating. He had taken flight countless times before, but there was something different now. The security of the goggles, the certainty that they would stay on no matter how violently he tore through the sky, gave him a feeling of freedom that he hadn't known he was missing. He pushed himself further, breaking through the cloud line, feeling the temperature drop as he neared the colder upper layers of the atmosphere. The wind began to chill, his breath coming out like a mist as he kept climbin, but the lenses of the goggles remained crystal clear. No frost. No fog. Just the pure sensation of wind against skin and the exhilaration of flight. The saolite-infused straps kept them firmly in place, repairing subtly as he twisted his head, dodging the occasional updraft. Wulfnoð let out a small, relieved laugh, the sound drowned by the rush of the wind. He realized, for the first time in years, that he was truly free. Ceasing his Soar ability, he started a freefall back towards the earth, holding his breath for a moment before forcing the inhales and exhales again. That high up, it was definitely difficult to breathe. But it didn't matter to him, it felt… exhilarating.
As Wulfnoð descended back toward the city, the familiar sight of the stone buildings and winding streets below reminded him that even though Zephyr could carry him anywhere, he was still tethered to this world. The goggles, however, had provided something more than just function. They had restored a sense of control, a sense of reliability that Wulfnoð had long since given up hope of achieving. Landing softly outside Laran's workshop5, his boots hit the dirt with a muted thud as he adjusted his clothing, patting out the frost that had developed from going so high up. The now-familiar weight of the goggles remained on his face, like a second skin. He unstrapped them, gently, and stepped back inside. Laran was at the workbench again, his hands stained with soot and metal dust. He glanced up from his work with a wide grin as Wulfnoð entered.
"Well, how did they feel?" Laran asked, his tone full of eager curiosity.
Wulfnoð stood there for a moment, holding the goggles in his hands carefully as he looked at Laran, a sense of alliance in his chest as he looked at the smaller, older man. "They're perfect," Wulfnoð said with a soft smile. "They stayed on perfectly, and I was able to fly a lot faster than I could originally. It was… a helpful release."
Laran laughed, using his apron to clean his hands. "I knew they'd work! You don't need the complex and convoluted. What you need is simple work and elbow grease, and look at you now! Flying fast without a care."
Wulfnoð nodded, still adjusting the goggles in his hands. "I didn't think something so simple could make such a difference. It's not just the flight... it's the feeling of being able to rely on something, you know? To trust it."
Laran nodded calmly, setting his tools down and leaning back against the workbench. "I hear that. When you've spent your life doing one thing, when it's your only ally, you get to a point where you need something dependable to hold on to. I'm glad I could give that dependable something."
There was a pause between them, and for the first time in a long time, Wulfnoð found himself feeling something he hadn't expected—gratitude. It wasn't just for the goggles themselves, but for the connection with Laran. A simple craftsman, yes, but one who had understood his needs.
Wulfnoð didn't speak at first, but then he finally muttered, "I've been searching for something like this... someone like you."
Laran raised an eyebrow. "You've been searching for a craftsman?"
Wulfnoð gave a dry laugh. "Not just a craftsman. I've been searching for something I could trust—something that wouldn't fail me when I needed it most. For a long time, I didn't think that kind of trust existed."
Laran smiled softly, the pride in his work evident. "Well, now you do. And I'll be here as usual if you ever need something else. "
With the goggles now a permanent fixture in his life, Wulfnoð felt a strange sense of closure. His initial need for them had been simple—a tool to prevent an annoyance. But now that they were real, something in his subconscious had shifted. He wasn't just a Fælnir trying to survive. For the first time in his life, he felt like he was building something out of himself. He'd been so caught up in survival for so long, in the endless raids, the violence of the raider clans, and the forgotten years of his youth. He had grown accustomed to the relative solitude, to trust no one and rely only on himself. He had forgotten what it meant to let something in from the outside to offer support. And now, Laran had done exactly that with a pair of goggles.
"I'm heading out," Wulfnoð said, putting the goggles back on his face as he set down the payment for Laran's work. "But I'll be back. I'm sure I'll need something else down the line."
Laran nodded. "I'll be here. And next time, don't just bring your ideas and requests for things that you want me to make. Come sit down, and have a drink, yeah? You're not always going to be flying around, lad. At some point, you'll need to find a place to stop and relax."
Wulfnoð hesitated at the door, then turned back with a slight grin. "Maybe I'll do exactly that. But for now, I have work to do."
And with that, he was gone from this part of Bahn'Shei. His clothing shifted around him as he made his way out into the open fields once more, the weight of the goggles now a comforting presence on his head as he once again took to the skies. While the future was incredibly clouded in the unknown, he was sure that whatever came next, he would be ready for it. He had to be, whether for himself or for his original family, or whatever history he had left behind that was shrouded in mystery and intrigue.
1 Journeyman usage of Aeromancy from Zephyr
2 Journeyman usage of Aeromancy from Zephyr
3 Journeyman usage of Aeromancy from Zephyr
4 Journeyman usage of Aeromancy from Zephyr
5 Journeyman usage of Aeromancy from Zephyr
1 Spell Reserves (Aether)
-0.33 Aeromancy (Journeyman)
-0.33 Aeromancy (Journeyman)
=0.34 Spell Reserves (beginning of week)
5-day Recovery (.34 + (.14*5) = 1)
-0.33 Aeromancy (Journeyman)
-0.33 Aeromancy (Journeyman)
-0.33 Aeromancy (Journeyman)
=0.01 Spell Reserves (end of week)
Last edited:
