Beorn of the Northern Sea

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Photo
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Beorn at Queen Marisa's Festival of the Rose, 2016
Information
Preferred title: Not specified
Their Pronouns: Not specified
Resides: Gallavally in Dreiburgen
Status: Active
Awards: Visit the Caid Order of Precedence
Heraldry
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Per bend sinister embattled grady gules and argent, a lyre and a dolphin urinant counterchanged, within a double-tressure sable
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Baron Beorn of the Northern Sea, OL, is a simple friendly every day fighting bard of indeterminate mass. He was invited to join the Order of the Laurel at Caid's Spring Crown Tourney, A.S. LI (51) by TRM Conrad III and A'isha II. He was elevated to the Laurel by Ozmund and Marisa at Festival of the Rose, 2016.

Persona History

Baron Beorn of the Northern Sea, known at various times as Giuseppe Lorenzo Domenico Angelo de Medici, Brother Johannes, Marcus Commodus Maximus, and Ito Nobunaga was born in 1270 of the common reckoning. His mother, a dark impish maiden with a golden voice, had fallen for a Norse adventurer and their forbidden tryst led to fleeing the Kingdom of Dublin. Traveling the North Sea in summer, as her birthing time approached, they landed at the Shetland monastery on Lunnasting (though some say Lerwick). She was both very close to her time, and very ill. Beorn's father said he would go to fetch help from his family in Norway.

He never returned...

She delivered up her son and they asked her to name the child, she said Beorn, though he was baptized Johannes so as to not remain named of the Heathen. She held him in her arms and sang to him until she died a few hours later. A ruddy, powerfully built Irishman arrived a month after, claiming to be the girl's father. He saw the child, said for the monks to keep him, turned on his heel and never looked back. It was then Beorn became an oblate of the church.

He was raised to be a priest; trained in music, letters, medicine and husbandry. Before taking his final vows he was sent to the conflict happening on the main of Scotland, ostensibly as the Latin tutor for Robert the Bruce. He saw English knights running down unarmed commoners, and an anger rose in him; with his shepherd's crook he smote one of the riders clean off of his horse. The remaining English wheeled and turned to kill this upstart cloister, when Duke John Bearkiller and a small Welsh contingent crested the hill, intent on ridding the whole of the Island from English tyranny.

John liked this giant youth, gave him his seal, lent him some coin and told him to leave Scotland and find out who he really was, seeing as the priesthood was unsuitable. Beorn spent the next fifteen years engaging in a series of adventures hiring out as a minstrel, a mercenary, a clerk, a physic, and cook.

After settling in Meridies, Beorn, now a bard of some renown, apprenticed to the great Mistress Vashti. In his heady moments he then eloped with a minor lady from the Danish Kingdoms (apparently against the wishes of everyone, family and friend) and fled to Caid. Immediately after having a daughter, he was kidnapped by a merchant raider bound for the Orient. It was there Beorn's great size and strength was again put to the test, as he was sold to a wrestler's stable and he fought for the entertainment of the crowds for seven years, before escaping and making the long trek back to Caid.

Upon his return, he had been given up for dead, his lady remarried, and all his lands were seized in oath-price for the illegal elopement. He was battered, scarred, and unlanded... But, he was not broken. He seeks to reclaim his lands, his honor, and serve the kingdom as best he may.

Offices & Positions

Event Staff

Associations

Classes Taught

Assorted Poems

The Crown List poem for Ozmund Rus

The Saga of Ozmund (as told to Sofia Biarnardottir by Beorn of the Northern Sea)

Hearken you now to the Saga of Ozmund!

Sailor of Desert Seas, Tamer of Smoke,

Husband to Marisa, exotic fair maiden,

First to befriend, and the last to provoke.

Long had the lands of Starkhafn known Kingship.

Brother and Liege Lord had both held the Crown.

Ozmund took his lady's hands and gave her a promise:

He would enrobe her in a Caidan Queen's gown.

Bright was the dawn of the Spring Crown's beginning,

Bright was the smile of Marisa his dear,

Bright were the eyes of the Knight known as Ozmund,

His heart burned with passion; his pathway was clear.

Ozmund was chosen by Jethro from Linthal

A fighter for hire, a squire; his foe.

Ozmund dispatched him with terrible fury,

The journey had started, still so long to go.

His next fighter could not arise to the challenge,

So Oz stepped ahead to Adam, brother Knight.

The oak shook and wept with its silver leaves falling.

One more foeman vanquished, still more left to fight!

And now in the eric his brother Athanaric,

A most worthy fighter who'd once held the Throne.

He looked at his ladywife, filled with dread purpose,

Though entering as brothers, Oz left it alone.

The warriors were falling, the few left were mighty.

Sir Ozmund faced Halldórr, himself a Knight too.

The Northmen they circled and sought an advantage,

Sir Ozmund found one first and ran his foe through.

Just four now remained, three Knights and a Squire

But 'twas only one of them before had to rule,

As Ozmund defeated his brother Sir Niccolo

Sven slew young Liam, setting up the last duel.

Duke Sven with dear Ismay had entered unblooded,

Sir Ozmund was also unblemished by loss.

On seeing each other, respectful, they nodded,

Then grimly they set out as the field they did cross.

The two fought like lions, first one, then the other

Had fallen in combat to their foe's glorious deeds

One match then remained to determine a Champion

One sword stroke, one vanquished... Hail Oz! Al-Caid!

The Prince had been chosen! All rallied around him,

Ozmund saw nought but his lady and kneeled at her feet

And weeping with love for his Princess he wreathed her

His journey now ended, his promise complete!

A Poem in Honor of Don Alexander Kallidokos,OP

As commissioned by Her Royal Majesty Caid, Kolfinna kottr:


Too few can match the lethal striking blade,

Or stand against the leaping lion’s might,

Don Alexander, few like you were made,

On you we may depend in any fight!


But let us not forget your genteel grace.

A nobler man could scarcely to be seen.

You serve with no reserve for time or place,

And doing so bring honor to your Queen!


There was a time when you did stand alone,

All fellow guards had fallen for Caid.

With blade well set and in a razor hone,

You vanquished all, what an impressive deed!


Some champions win the Consort’s field by arms,

Some through their arts or skills, by strength or guile.

But Alexander conquers with his charms,

His sword, his faith, his honor and his style!


It’s said that I sport an impressive span,

But Kallidokos has the larger heart,

In point of fact he is the greater man,

By bearing, manner, and the courtier’s art.


He slays the foes; he honors ladies all,

Though slightly built, to me, he’s ten feet tall!

Miscellany

Societal History

In 1982, I was playing Dungeons & Dragons at the Omniplex Science Center in Oklahoma City. My fighter/magic-user/thief Barnabus the Destroyer had just been slain by a poisoned crossbow bolt. I was informed it would be four hours real time before I could be raised from the dead (secretly, I just think they were tired of the six foot tall kid eating all the Funyuns), so I went wandering about and I heard a commotion downstairs. I looked over the railing and saw, what appeared to me at any rate, people in really interesting Kendo armor hitting each other with big fluffy axes. I went down and introduced myself to the kind-looking gentlemen standing there. He replied, "Hi, my name is William Blackfox."

In 1985 we moved to Atlanta, Georgia, and I attended a tournament called Red Tower. There was a really intimidating-looking knight with a not-so intimidating-looking smile watching me as I sang a piece I had written. I thanked him for his attentiveness, and said, "Hi! I'm Beorn." He replied, "Hello there Beorn, I'm John." And that was my introduction to the man who would later become my knight, Duke John the Bearkiller, OP.

In 1988 we moved to Northern Mississippi and I started attending the events in Memphis before matriculating to The University of Mississippi (Ole Miss). During one of my vocal outbursts (it would be too kind to refer to them as songs) I met the lady who would eventually become my Laurel, Her Excellency Mistress Vashti. As a matter of fact, I was (until very recently) her first apprentice, and am quite proud of that fact. In true clandestine fashion, I received my green belt under the table at a wine bar (the Gewürztraminer was excellent!).

Awards

Things I Like

  • Heavy Fighting
  • Rapier Fighting
  • Archery (target and combat)
  • Performance Arts
  • Composing Music
  • Writing Poetry
  • Cooking (especially sweet stuff!)
  • Consuming the cooking of others
  • Teaching
  • Providing shade for my tiny friends whilst on the battlefield

External Links

Photos

  • Beorn fighting at Highland War. 2010 Photo by Shanna Franklin

    Beorn fighting at Highland War. 2010 Photo by Shanna Franklin

  • Beorn performing at Potrero Bardic. 2011 Photo by Shanna Franklin

    Beorn performing at Potrero Bardic. 2011 Photo by Shanna Franklin

  • Beorn at Gyldenholt Unbelted. 2011 Photo by Drach

    Beorn at Gyldenholt Unbelted. 2011 Photo by Drach

  • Beorn performing Baron Laertes' Childrens' Poem. 2007 Photo by unknown

    Beorn performing Baron Laertes' Childrens' Poem. 2007 Photo by unknown

  • Beorn facing Snorri Snarfari Bjornsson at Fall Crown 2006. Photo by unknown

    Beorn facing Snorri Snarfari Bjornsson at Fall Crown 2006. Photo by unknown

  • Beorn at the Shire of Hammerhold, 1995. Photo by Lady Ingrid Gerdesdottir

    Beorn at the Shire of Hammerhold, 1995. Photo by Lady Ingrid Gerdesdottir

  • Beorn receiving Court Barony, 2007. Photo by Sir Leto Darkhorse

    Beorn receiving Court Barony, 2007. Photo by Sir Leto Darkhorse

  • Beorn fighting HRM Radu of Gleann Abhann, Samhain, 2010. Photo by Susana Leandra Macias

    Beorn fighting HRM Radu of Gleann Abhann, Samhain, 2010. Photo by Susana Leandra Macias

  • Beorn fighting (now Count) Rey Ribeaumont, 1996. Photo by Andrea McCormick

    Beorn fighting (now Count) Rey Ribeaumont, 1996. Photo by Andrea McCormick

  • Beorn and his daughter Sofia Biarnardottir and his mother Ellen of Ansteorra, 2016. Photo by Shanna Franklin

    Beorn and his daughter Sofia Biarnardottir and his mother Ellen of Ansteorra, 2016. Photo by Shanna Franklin

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