Captain Ulfden Ragvarsson ||parody|| (@Mare_Regem) header
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๐šƒ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š›๐šŽ ๐š’๐šœ ๐š—๐š˜๐š๐š‘๐š’๐š—' ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š— ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š—๐šœ๐š˜๐š•๐šŽ ๐š–๐šŽ ๐š‹๐šž๐š ๐š–๐šข ๐š‹๐š˜๐š—๐š—๐š’๐šŽ @FemmeAnCraite~ ||parody/RP account||

The Banshee
Joined June 2020
Photo by Captain Ulfden Ragvarsson ||parody|| (@Mare_Regem)Photo by Captain Ulfden Ragvarsson ||parody|| (@Mare_Regem)Photo by Captain Ulfden Ragvarsson ||parody|| (@Mare_Regem)Photo by Captain Ulfden Ragvarsson ||parody|| (@Mare_Regem)Photo by Captain Ulfden Ragvarsson ||parody|| (@Mare_Regem)Photo by Captain Ulfden Ragvarsson ||parody|| (@Mare_Regem)Photo by Captain Ulfden Ragvarsson ||parody|| (@Mare_Regem)Photo by Captain Ulfden Ragvarsson ||parody|| (@Mare_Regem)Photo by Captain Ulfden Ragvarsson ||parody|| (@Mare_Regem)Photo by Captain Ulfden Ragvarsson ||parody|| (@Mare_Regem)
๐šƒ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š‚๐šŽ๐šŠ ๐š†๐š˜๐š•๐š ยปยปโ€”โ€”โ€”โ€”-ใ€€๐ŸŒŠใ€€โ€”โ€”โ€”โ€”-ยซยซ
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"Broklion?" He repeated. "Is there...somethin' there ye think would be helpful?" He gazed back at his ship, taking mental inventory for what they needed to stock up on for the journey.
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Ulfden's brow raised in pleasant surprise. The underlying threat of anger seemed to disappear from his weary features. "Aye....aye." he nodded. "Sounds a plan t'me. In the meanwhile, go' anywhere to be?"
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He looked up at the moon. A century of practice gave him the ability to resist with some ease. Just a twinge of discomfort. He's...too old for this shite.
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Captain Ulfden Ragvarsson ||parody|| retweeted
the witcher agvon of skellige. the beserker . an oc within the witcher verse. desc & independent portrayal. โ™ก & โ†ป
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Why? Why does his sister insist on keepin' such dangerous company?
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"Ah!" He nods, brow still furrowed in confusion. "As long as she's alri'...ye know we don't usually hang about wi'...people like ye. Forgive my wariness. Fer ye, since yer wi' her, I'll bring ye across wi' no price provided ye dunnae bring trouble. I've needed t' head ++
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++ tha' way fer a bit now. Shipments an' all. We will go when ye need to bu' make some haste. I've a reputation t' maintain."
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"Price fer wha'?". Making his way to stand by Geralt's side, he folded his arms over his broad chest. "Wha's this about Melysandrae? She alri'?"
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"Hjalmar be'er no' move..." He grumbled. "Bu' tha' sounds a perfect plan!"
"Aye. . . Sound asleep on uncle Hjalmar. Like a big, furry chase lounge, he is." The Queen smiled impishly up at her Captain. "Fancy a walk? Dinner aboard The Banshee, maybe?"
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"Finally nappin' is he?" He asked. "His little teeth have been a bother..."
"Ye always manage te catch me while I'm focused elsewhere!" she mewled, arms raising to wrap around his neck. "I've got a keen ear fer th'babe, aye. . . His cry breaks away a piece of my heart each time."
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He looks over at @TheWolfRivia, sizing him up. "I was told ye were lookin' fer me."
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A roar of laughter comes from him as he spins her. "Lass, I cannae believe ye dunnae hear me!" He snorts. "After th' bairn, ye'd think yer ears were sharp as a fox's!"
She squeals a bit as he envelopes her, arms draping over his own. "Only th' gods know how yer able te sneak up on me like that. . . Every time."
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โ € โ €โ € ใ…คโ €โ €โ €โ €โ €๐‘ถ๐’๐’„๐’†, ๐‘ฐ ๐’‰๐’‚๐’… ๐’‚๐’ ๐’†๐’Ž๐’‘๐’Š๐’“๐’† ใ…คโ €โ €โ €โ €โ €๐’Š๐’ ๐’‚ ๐’ˆ๐’๐’๐’…๐’†๐’ ๐’‚๐’ˆ๐’†. ใ…คโ €โ €โ €โ €โ €... ๐’๐’๐’˜, ๐‘ฐ ๐’‡๐’†๐’‚๐’“ ๐‘ฐ ๐’‰๐’‚๐’—๐’† ใ…คโ €โ €โ €โ €โ €๐’‡๐’‚๐’๐’๐’†๐’ ๐’‡๐’“๐’๐’Ž ๐’ˆ๐’“๐’‚๐’„๐’†. ใ…คใ…คใ…คใ…คใ…คใ…คใ…คใ…คโ”ˆโ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”
you think killing is hard ๏น– try healing. you can break something in two seconds, but it can take forever to fix it.
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He couldn't have thought of anything better. He is sneaking up behind her. As much as his lumbering frame could sneak...
She was just preparing herself emotionally, but she's glad to hear he's got some time to spare. Maybe they ought to. . .Spend some time together. Hjalmar is babysitting~.
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"Something something, I heard I'm shippin' off soon?'
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He has all of those things on his ship. It's on.
Someone fetch her the following items; Lamp oil A torch A bucket of sand An old rag soaked in water Sheโ€™s about to put on a show.
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O' course he isn't. Ye've go' a skill? Take pride in it.
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Proof is demanded.
She already knows how to fire-breathe. That she learned in Zerrikania and has never forgotten.
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