Kreed Family/Grit

Grit Kreed

Grit woke up and looked around groggily. The grunts and him had had one hell of a night last night. He noticed the large blonde woman growing out of Sergeant Olaf's chest then recognised her from the bar. He also noticed with pride the three wenches on his bed. Pouring himself a nice pitcher of mead, he went back to sleep. The sound of his soldiers that had woken up to severe hangovers lulleing him to sleep. Life was good.

Grit is the youngest of the Kreed family. Hailing from Norland he enjoys copious amounts of beer, gold, and and women.Though he doesn't share the bond of fighting against Eston that most other Norlanders do he has made himself quite comfortable amongst the hospitality of his viking brothers.

Grits Grunts

Grit looked around the packed bar, Sergeant Olaf were standing behind him, his father having sent him to keep him from getting killed in this venture. Scanning the faces of the assortment of young vikings, drunks, and madmen.Putting his hands to his voice to act as a magnifier, he shouted in his rough gravely voice, "CHUTNEY IS TERRIBLE! NORLAND SUCKS! AND YETIs ARE A BUNCH OF PANSY ASSED FAIRIES! All noise and motion in the pub stopped immediatley and dozens of eyes glared at the young viking, if looks could kill, those eyes would already be Splitting open his skull and ripping the red lockes from his back. As one, dozens of them surged foward to kill the blasphemer. Grit smiled at Olaf as he whipped out his warhammer and yelled towards his old friend, "It looks like we chose the right place!" The battle lasted all night with teeth being knocked out, bones broken, and skulls cracked until only 16 patrons of the bar were standing against Grit and Olaf. Throwing down the chair he'd been using as a shield, Grit let a massive smile show and called out to his opponents, "Nice show brothers! How would you like to join the army?" While the chosen survivors took a few seconds to weigh their options, a young boy from the 16, no older than 14years at the most, stepped forward and knocked his spear against his helmet, making sure not to hi the black eye Grit had given him with a jab to the face and replied,"Well....what the hell I've been a cabin boy on a ship all my life and gotten paid with rotting fish and spoiled beer. I might as well do a easier job and get a lot better pay." Seeing how quickly the boy had joined Grit, the rest of the chosen soon agreed to join him. OWhile the men were being readied for service, Grit walked up to the boy from before. "Whats your name son?" , the boy quickly replied, "Colin sir!" Looking the boy up and down, Grit asked, "How would you like to be my scribe? you don't have to do mch just be able to scribble a few letters and deliver them quickly." Amased at the generosity, Colin responded as cooly as he could, "I'd love to sir!"

Grits Grunts Type: Infantry Strength: 26 men Training: 28 % Weapons/Armour: 52% / 49% Equipment Damage: 9 % Morale: 99 % Cohesion: 26 % Total Combat Strength: 233 Designation: regular army Last paid: 1 days ago