Dean Hinderhem's PK Post

Pandacrp

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[!] The sound of water rushed against the smooth rocks near the Barwick bridge. The sun high in the sky as birds chirped and leaves rustled in the wind. Everything about this day seemed peaceful, everything besides the sounds of steel swords clashing against one another. Hooves against the dirt paths trampled out the peaceful sounds of nature. A small group of bandits known as “The Clasp” had encountered a group of mercenaries working for Rheynland, and the site in which they fought was just in front of one of the only things Barwick left behind.
Within moments of the skirmishes start, the bandits were hit with heavy barrages from the mercenaries' bows. Those who didn't die to arrow fire were quickly run down by the horses. One of those men being Dean Hinderhem.
Dean was in the Clasp from the start, helping bolster up their ranks and carry out more skilled ambushes he had gathered a large bounty on his head. For this reason he was not killed upon site, but rather cuffed and brought back to Rheynland where he would wait for authorities from Aellen to arrive. It was at this moment he had realized who was among those who caught him. Most of them Dean had no clue who they were but, as he scanned his gaze fell upon one dwarf. That dwarf's name was Jorvic Skarfsson. A friend of Deans for little over four years, one of the only people to break past the wall of insanity which blocked Dean from caring about anything. After a few hours of waiting for the elven guards to arrive they showed up, smaller in numbers than Dean had expected but, along with them was a woman, the very woman who put a hefty bounty on his head. Lephilia Isilros, the mother of the child Dean tortured when he was just starting up. The woman didn't speak much, only questioning him about why he did it and such, to which Dean ignored.
Within an hour the time had come, the elven guards drew their swords and walked behind Dean and his companions, pushing them onto their knees. Jorvic Skarfsson was the one who was to behead Dean. Pushing the irony aside Dean gazed at his old friend with a heavy grin.
“May you rest in Valhalla my friend” spoke Jorvic. “It was wonderful while it lasted… Glory to the Clasp.” And with those last words Jorvic brung the sword across, separating Dean’s head from his neck. Dean Hinderhem, one of the leaders within the Clasp, was finally dead.

(On an ooc note I would like to thank everyone who was apart of the clasp and those who helped pvp train. Yall really helped out and were very kind throughout it all. This was a fun character and I hope I was able to start a few things or help with criminal roleplay or drama in general. Never the less thank you all for helping.)
 

Kotuhi

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Slow as it was, whispers of Dean Hinderhem's death would find their way down into the Underhold and to the once quiet chambers of Harikoa. The Dwarf would be ashamed to admit that the news brought some comfort to him in these dark times, had it been any other individual most likely he would feel remorse, or even grief, but it was not, and he knew the horrors that this man had wrought upon the continent. He still remembered when those first children were stolen away from their mothers arms, the terror the people of Tor Ascara felt, how the many orphans of the city huddled together within the clinic.. Though he pushed those memories away, instead taking comfort in this small victory, his only regret being those of the Underhold had not managed to bring this man to justice themselves.

The barrel of a Dwarf would find one of his more trusted people
"Find the wanted posters strewn about, burn them, let us be done with that vile man. May the Pit show him the mercy he could not find for others."
 
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Swifty

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Jorvic Skarfsson, Brother of Vrikar Skarfsson, Skogori Knight and Nobleman of Brenna would bow his head, memories flooding back of his now lifeless friend. The head, taken by Marshall, kept within Valora by the highest bidder to be shown to King Nardual of Aellen.

"May Dean rest in Valhalla, and may the people of Brenna finally rest. We have shown Enarion that we do not endorse banditry, and wish to work towards the greater good."

Walks into the Skogos' Castle, sitting down after the stressful day. He would set some wood aside as he starts a fire and cracks open a bottle of wine. Jorvic then finally states;

"To Dean, a toast to an old friend, for Brenna."

1606284331105.png
 

HunterJr2001

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Torvin heard the news about how Dean the bandit and the rest of his friends have died. Torvin wishes he found the bastards first to make a few rugs, but he knew he couldn't beat them by himself, though there is always wishful thinking... He thought about the news about how the bandits made alot of orphans, and killed so many. Torvin would sleep better at night, without any new rugs. Torvin has noticed that his kin's spirits are raised and a bit of color is back on their faces, he continues to hep them feel better with making armor and gathering ores to help out. "Well t'en... My kin seem a bit 'appier. I'll try and 'aise t'eir spirits fas'er." Torvin said making his way back into his house to make armor and get his mining picks to gather ores.
 

BardMainHere

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Following the niceties and formalities around the execution of the bandits, Cato said one thing in regard to the fallen - "Rest easy, útlagi." Thereafter, Cato continues about his daily business - spending his take of the gold on drink and room. He drank into the night, taking his mind off the souls of the departed. Eventually, after numerous drinks, he forgot about them. He only thought of the next contract.
 

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