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 Bjorn Holt

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Bjorn Holt


Posts : 9
Total Experience Points : 9
Join date : 2013-02-13

Character Sheet
OOC: Wicked
Classification: Consular
3/70  (3/70)

PostSubject: Bjorn Holt   Wed Feb 13, 2013 7:11 pm

The Basics

Name: Bjorn Holt
Age: 58
Element: Ice
Classification: Consular
Birth Kingdom: Unda
Home Kingdom: N. Glacies


Height: 6'6"
Weight: 260 lb

Bjorn as a jagged scar on his face, running from the right side to the left side, diagonally over his nose; this same wound severely damaged his eye, hence the patch. He also has quite a few scars, from knives, rocks, and fire, on his back, torso, and shoulders, but most are indistinct and faded, whereas the scar on his face is only a few years old.

The scar on his face is from a bear that was slightly less dead than Bjorn thought it was initially.

If there's anything people can tell about Bjorn from a glance, it's that he lacks self-preservation. He doesn't just train difficult animals - he prefers to train difficult animals. He's oddly nonchalant about the occasional dog bite. His own behavior is risky at times, seen as when he'll get off of his sled to chase game on foot. At the same time, he'll yell if he sees others imitating him, warn them not to do anything rash and throw their lives away.

He has little mind for long term strategies, deeming them useless in terms of warfare, since the field can change at any time. At the same time, he has brilliant improvisational skills, being able to take stock of his surroundings, his resources, what might help him and what might hinder him, before acting (although missing an eye definitely hinders this, since he has a huge blind spot). Much of this was developed through hunting, rather than actual warfare.

He's gruff and hard to get along with, often claiming that life is to short to keep his thoughts to himself. He's constantly reminded of the war with Unda, and the ongoing atrocities towards his people, often in the form of flashbacks and nightmares. He rarely sleeps through the night, unless he's so exhausted that his body just shuts down. To get his mind off of these things, he usually turns to hunting, and at times training animals. He especially likes to hunt dangerous game - bears, wolves, and the like, - because they're more of a challenge, and occupy his mind for a longer time, and he prefers to train the dogs that other people have given up on. The only people he really seems to like are in fact his dogs.

This is not entirely true. Somewhere underneath the gruff, beardog*-wrestling exterior is a man who would give his life it would give someone younger and probably more deserving a chance to live theirs, if only because he regrets how he treated his own wife and children. He's not likely to truly open up, or praise others, but he'd lend a willing ear to anyone who wanted to talk, a willing hand to anyone who truly needed help, and a willing dog to anyone who couldn't fend for themselves - unless they're Undan. He's observant enough to find the minor details in a long-winded story that may in fact have magnified it, and blunt enough to point it out.

He's more of a quietly angry sort of person, boiling over and stewing on all of his negative thoughts until he erupts like a geyser, and settles down again. Some things will issue his rage faster - Undans, people who hurt his animals - and some things slowly over time - being ignored. He's more likely to go out on his own to calm down than become emotional in front of enemies or allies alike, making small exceptions for his family members. (Which is part of why his wife left him.) He's usually very relaxed, a trait he developed to keep his animals in check, and has long abandoned most of his inhibitions about waging war, no matter how perpetually angry he appears to be about the whole affair.

He's very good at training animals, having done so since he was young.

*Beardog = Malamutes (They are very large.)


  • Hunting - It's how he gets his food, so he may as well enjoy it. He mostly enjoys tracking down animals, and the sense of adventure he gets from travel.
  • Dogs - Bjorn trains dogs. Most of the dogs that he has trained were given away or killed some point after Arlan's litter was born. He's very fond of the dogs that he hasn't lost. (Note: He considers all canines to be dogs. This doesn't mean he'll walk right up to a wolf and start petting it, but it does mean that he refers to them as "doggies.")
  • Traveling - Provided he can return home whenever he likes, and he can take his pets along with him, Bjorn enjoys traveling - and the more treacherous the environment, the more excited he is. If he'd had it his way he'd have scaled mountains as a young man, but he's equally content to explore unfamiliar forests.
  • Sledding - The easiest way for Bjorn to travel long distance is by dogsled, and while he's greatly irritated by the process of harnessing his dogs to the sled, and will complain about how bending over hurts his back (he's fine; he's just lazy), he enjoys the feeling of riding over snow drifts.


  • Himself - Though he wouldn't admit it out loud, he's done a lot of things he isn't proud of, and a lot of things he desperately regrets. Despite this self-loathing, he doesn't make much effort to move forward or improve himself, never has, and probably never will. Instead, he puts himself in harm's way to see how long he'll last.
  • Unda and its people - Even though he was born in Unda, he doesn't consider himself one of them, being truly raised in Glacie from the time he was an adolescent. There were atrocities committed against him, his friends, and any would-be enemies who defected rather than fight. He has little to no compassion for them.
  • Training animals for others - While in the past, Bjorn trained dogs for military and hunting uses, he doesn't like being asked to train dogs for others, believing that bonding with the animal is the most important part of training. He'll do it if he feels he has no choice (as with the war) but he'll be resentful and outspoken. He'll still offer advice, or assist someone in training, if he feels justified - for instance, lending a calmer dog to a disabled person.
  • Politics - If there's anything that bothers him, it's important information going on behind closed doors - especially if he can't bring his dogs with him. He finds most politicians to be inept, as with most of the world's monarchs, and finds that most people who enjoy talking politics aren't willing to fight and die for their countrymen.
  • Following Orders - He doesn't like being told what to do. Especially if his orders are to "get the wolf out of here" or "tie down your dogs" or "please stop bringing your animals to these meetings."
  • Implications of Deviant Sexual Behavior - Several times in Bjorn's life, he has been accused of unnatural behavior involving his animals. His response is usually a quick slug to the jaw.

Elemental Strengths
  • Freezing - Bjorn is able to freeze solid platforms of ice on otherwise warm water - for instance, the ocean can be at 80 degrees and he could still freeze a thick enough platform to walk on, jump around on, drag a dead walrus on, etc...
  • Ice Spikes - After freezing the ice, if he's in a situation where he needs to stop a ship or kill a bear before it gets any closer, he'll create large, jagged protrusions of ice capable of piercing a wooden hull and staggering a bear (because bears have this nasty habit of appearing to be dead but not really).
  • Resistant to Cold - He's not quite able to run butt-naked through the antarctic, or skinny dip with seals, but he can run outside in his boots and his long johns and not instantly become hypothermic, or frostbitten...or even care for a couple of minutes.

Elemental Weaknesses
  • Finesse - Bjorn never quite pinned down detail work. If he wanted to catch someone without hurting them, he'd have to get creative, or just not use his element, for fear of causing permanent damage via frostbite, or just flat-out missing his target.
  • Heat - Anyone who pays attention to the fact that Bjorn removes his hat and sometimes his coat before fights might figure this out. When Bjorn himself is overheated, he's able to do less with his element - when he's sick and feverish, he's almost entirely debilitated.
  • Old Man Stamina - While not an elemental weakness perse, Bjorn is plagued by the fact that he is indeed old. He can go for quite some time before tiring, but once he shuts down he stays that way.


Mother - Isaure Holt | Ice Master | 78 *
Father - Hans Holt | Health Consular | 80 | Deceased at 68
Sister - Freya Holt | _____________ | 58 *
Niece - Agnes Holt | _____________ | 47 *
Wife - Agni Holt | Wind ___________ | 50 *
Son - Freyr Holt | __________ | 25 *
Son - Sture Holt | __________ | 22
*Out of contact

His Favorite
Dog - Arlan | < 1 - male
Dog - Morrhar | 5 - female
Wolfish-Dog - Dreki | 8 - male
Wolf - Jagare | 15 - male

Notes on Bjorn's Dogs:

Bjorn’s father was a huntsman and a trader who would leave for the north pole before the season ended. A hunter and a fur-trader (particularly fond of bear-hunting), Hans met Isaure while on a long voyage, when he stopped to trade furs and collect supplies. They had relations, Isaure became pregnant with their children, the twins, and Hans left to continue his journey. When he next returned, he was able to briefly settle down with Isaure, trying all the while to take her home with him. Each time she refused, insisting that a frozen wasteland was no place to raise young children. And so, Freya and later Bjorn grew up without seeing much of their father. They lived with their mother and her parents, learned simple mathematics, how to read and write Enish and Caristan, and took odd jobs whenever the household was low on funds. It wasn't very often, although they had to do so at some point. Bjorn preferred to work consistently, so he could pocket the money. He liked the freedom that having money provided him with, and on the rare occasions when Hans could visit, he would offer to pay his own way out of Unda. He knew his mother, but he didn't really know his father, and he wanted to change that.

It wasn't until Bjorn was in adolescence that his mother "consented" to let him go. Or, rather, until he joined the screaming match that often followed such propositions. Isaure, in a fit of hysterical rage, shooed him off with Hans. On the night he left, Freya met them on the docks. She threw Bjorn into the ocean for making their mother cry, declared that he was disowned, and returned home. Bjorn made the mistake of crying in front of Hans, who knocked him upside the head for being "weak." Discomforting as it was for his father to insist that women were fickle things, and would forgive them the next time they came around, Bjorn forced himself to stop sobbing. He learned, on the voyage, that his father expected him to be "a proper man," tough, and fit for danger, if he was to journey so far North. If he became seasick, Hans insisted he exercise until the nausea subsided. If he became homesick, Hans threatened to let him swim back home, through the icy waters. If he got angry, Hans got angrier. If he got cold, Hans told him to get used to it. By the time they reached the pole, anyone who tried to guess that Bjorn was barely sixteen would have been greatly surprised. Hans held high expectations, and Bjorn strove to meet them. For this reason, Bjorn claims that while he was raised in Unda, he grew up in Glacies.

When they reached the pole, Bjorn realized that Hans' high expectations were to prepare him for hunting. There was no room for error - a mistake meant a lost meal, and sometimes a lost life. Success meant the admiration and gratitude of the other hunters, who often shared their food. His first kills were seabirds, and as he grew older he hunted larger game. Anything he could catch had a use - fatty animals could be used to keep fires going, starved animals could be skinned for their furs, and their innards were often consumed as well. Bjorn lived somewhere between the North pole and Unda’s Northern islands for quite some time; the constant travel required for trading kept them from ever really settling down.

He was eighteen when he first used his element effectively. As a child, he had been able to cool his drinks, and as he traveled he learned how to freeze a layer of ice over water and developed a tolerance to cold weather. He was not able to project his ice, or shape it, and his father insisted that he change this. One hunting trip, Hans abruptly confiscated Bjorn's spear, telling him to use his ice to trap their prey. It was only a fox - it was less dangerous than most of the things that he had caught. As it noticed them, and began to scamper off, Bjorn made chase. The fox drew too far out on the ice, and when Bjorn came close, the ice broke off. Hans followed, shouting and yelling for Bjorn to hurry back before he drifted out to sea - catching a little fox was the least of their worries if Bjorn fell into the icy waters. As he drifted away, he began to panic. He bent down, stuffed his hand in the water, and forced the water to solidify, forming a bridge that he could safely cross. They returned home to tend to his hand, without any meat.

Although Bjorn was more able to control ice, he didn't want to use it to hunt. Of the village's other hunters, some used their ice to trap their kill, others to freeze it solid, but often the meat tasted as though it had rotted. The other villagers may have been tolerant, but Bjorn was not. He traded a neighbor a few pelts for a few hounds. His father yelled about the waste - they could have traded the pelts for passage to visit Freya and Isaure, as they so rarely did. Bjorn had found his sister every bit as angry as she had been the night he left, and his mother every bit as bitter. He didn't want to return to the central islands for any length of time. He told his father to go without him, and stayed behind to train the dogs. He found that if he simply released his dogs, they would chase seals and yaks endlessly, rarely catching a thing. When he taught them to stalk, to wait for his commands and encircle the prey, he was able to fill the gaps by having more than just a few young dogs. It was one of the few things he did that truly impressed his father, and as time went on he raised more pups, sometimes trading them with merchant ships and sometimes keeping them. He named every one of his dogs. By the time he was twenty-six, he had raised three litters, along with several unwanted animals from visiting merchants and the budding village.

His favorite dog he trained when he was twenty-four. Pak was in fact a feral dog, captured by merchants and repurposed for an attack dog. But she was horribly unruly, and being mistreated. When he came to port to trade excess furs, he heard a dog's snarl, a loud smack, and a louder whine. When he went to approach, he saw a dog with her teeth clamped tightly on a man's heavily-padded arm, and the man wielding a cudgel. Bjorn intervened, offering to trade the furs for the dog. He was laughed at, and the deal was struck, although as the merchant warned, "That dog would sooner kill you than hunt for you." It was one of the few times that he tied a dog down, because when he tried to lead her home she spent most of the way trying to slip loose or bite at him. Hans called him crazy for taking the dog, and told him that if he couldn't calm it down within a month he would have to get rid of it. Bjorn couldn't do this. Any time he would approach Pak she snarled, and snapped, and if he left her alone too long he feared she'd become destitute. When a month came and left with no results, Hans told him to put the dog down. Instead, Bjorn took all of his dogs and and moved. He lived on the outskirts of the village, where he was more at risk from bears and weather, but at the same time able to let his dogs run loose. Only Pak remained tied, as Bjorn was afraid she would bite his other dogs.

He wasn't able to train her on his own. One day, as he came to give her food and try to tame her, another dog trotted in behind him, and fearlessly approached Pak. He nearly panicked, and nearly used his ice to separate the two, but when he saw how Pak threw her paw on his other dog's back, and how the other dog simply bowed his head and lowered his tail, he paused. He himself approached, dropping the meat and standing tall. She growled, predictably. He stayed where he was, and began to slowly approach, lowering himself to an equal level. The other dog had left, stealing Pak's meal, but Bjorn wasn't too concerned. Pak laid down beside him, and for the first time he was able to touch her fur. From then on, it was far easier to train her. He let her slowly assimilate into his "pack," until she was able to join with no incident. By the time he finished training her, he was twenty eight years old.

Throughout this time, tensions rose between the main islands and the fledgling Glacies. They had at long last declared independence from Unda in a bid to make their own footholds in the world of trading. At least, that was how Bjorn saw it. He saw no purpose in making lots of money, since he believed that his ability to thrive in Glacies signified an ability to thrive anywhere. His father, however, insisted that there were other reasons. Political reasons, personal reasons, ethnic reasons - people like Hans were often discriminated against in Undan markets for being uncivilized and uneducated. Bjorn made enough money to pay his taxes and had enough knowledge to keep himself and his dogs alive and well, so he didn't quite see the importance. At least, he didn't until Glacies was attacked. A small band of refugees came from a nearby settlement, many injured, and all weary. They had been attacked by Undans, and, as they described it, most of the village laid in ruin. Water consulars and masters had battered their village with powerful waves until the ice had broken apart, and the few villagers couldn't stand against them. This was not the only incident, but in Bjorn's mind it was the beginning of the Undan-Glacien war. Some debate arose with the arrival of the villagers - should they be sent away, lest the Undans come, or should they stay for the extra bodies? Bjorn himself was in favor of protecting the newcomers in case of an invasion. After all, they would need all the help they could get.

It was not long before an Undan messenger arrived at their village, demanding that they close their ports to non-Undan traders immediately. The merchants of their village were in uproar, and Bjorn too began to see the problem. They were forcing all of the villagers to travel to Unda, where their goods were subject to tariff, and where their competition meant little. Bjorn's village closed its port for a time, but only until they received word from the Glacien king himself: they were at war.

This was when Bjorn's expertise was valued. Some villagers had admired his ability to keep track of so many dogs, all of which were suitably trained for hunting large game, but most believed he was insane. One villager made an implication that he was having "relations" with his dogs, to which Bjorn countered with a fist to the face, and no one else was quite stupid enough to repeat the incident. As Hans would have put it, Bjorn was "weak as a bear and stupid as a fox, with all the good nature of a rabid wolf." In the military, things were different. He insisted on responding with his dogs, and his commanding officers recognized the use. The dogs could be used on land to sniff out strangers, and by sea to bite anyone who boarded their ships. It was not difficult for Bjorn to make the adjustment; Pak was already hostile to all outside of her pack, and as she was his lead dog, the other dogs were easily persuaded to follow. Bjorn himself became valuable for his improvisational skills: picking out the more dangerous soldiers, helping to freeze the ocean and leaving hairline cracks where the Undans might have crossed – letting them sink into frigid waters and drown, or freeze.

In time, Bjorn's captain was reassigned, and Bjorn was promoted to take his place. The unit was every bit as successful, and Bjorn proved to be an effective leader. However, hurricanes, which he and many of his men were unused to, could shut them down. They were forced to land during one such hurricane, and were later found by Undan soldiers. They attacked, and Bjorn was forced to loose his dogs. He shut down entirely when he noticed that Pak, the dog he always kept at his side, laid dead against a rock. It had occurred to him that it could happen - she could just as easily have been mauled by a bear, or had her throat ripped out by a wolf - but the image stuck in his mind all the same. He and his men were subdued and taken prisoner themselves. He spent several months in Undan custody, refusing to answer questions (they gave him too much credit, seeing as he commanded a troop and not an army), and often being injured as a result. They were put to work on Undan ships for most of this time. They were eventually freed by other Glacien soldiers during a naval battle.

Upon his return Bjorn was put on leave to recover from some physical wounds inflicted on him - burns, scars from a whip, thin, precise cuts from a knife - and have some mental respite. He was also commissioned to train dogs for the military, as his old captain had recommended. He spent much of his time training dogs, and from the time he was thirty-eight he had trained dozens of them. He loathed sending them off knowing that many would die, and he always kept his favorites at home.

During this leave, Bjorn's village grew steadily larger as more and more refugees considered the village a safe haven. In light of that, the once smallish village was dubbed, "Ledas-hofn." Bjorn found himself forced to interact when he went to town to trade furs. At the market, he often met a brusque woman with pretty red hair peaking out from under her furs, and he often tried to flirt with her. His then-favorite dog, Jaga, was affectionate and curious to her, aiding his interactions. "Jaga seems to like you," Bjorn would say, and she would laugh and say she had handled meat earlier in the day. From time to time, Bjorn would be forthright and admit that he thought she was pretty, but often he dodged his real feelings. Thankfully, she got tired of waiting and asked Bjorn if he would ask her already. The woman was Agni, and sometime after she became pregnant, they married. They had one son before Bjorn was called back on duty.

Although Bjorn was reluctant to leave Agni alone with their young son, he was glad to know that his duty was escorting refugees from Northern Glacies to Southern Glacies. His dogs were useful for finding the few families that were dislocated by Undan attacks, and it was a welcome change from the slaughter he had seen before (after all, he didn’t have to come home to his sons and tell them where that little toe went). He preferred this mercy mission to his usual work of gutting Undan ships for supplies and killing the grunts, although he was less and less compassionate towards the Undans since his imprisonment. Typically these ventures involved moving undetected, and they were meant to avoid other ships entirely. On one occasion they were unfortunate enough to run into an Undan ship, and they were not able to sustain damages from any sort of battle. Bjorn and his men were forced to throw up their hands in surrender, although he hated every moment of it. The plan was to negotiate the safety of the civilians, and Bjorn feared part of the price would be their dogs, and his own life. He was surprised to see that the commander of the other ship was in fact a woman, and that woman happened to be his sister. When he saw that Freya was fighting with the Undan army, he was furious. He felt betrayed, and he threw the guilt on her - she was literally fighting against her own brother, her own nephew, and she countered that he was fighting against his own mother. Rather than a real negotiation, the two had a shouting match, got drunk together, and returned to their ships with no terms struck at all. The ship departed with their passengers, and Bjorn departed with a silent threat from Freya - if they met again they would be fighting.

After this incident, he was not called on another mercy mission. Sometimes Bjorn was called into strategy meetings, or sent into negotiations to try and settle border disputes. He was infamous at the time for always bringing a dog or two along, and complaining when he was asked to remove them. This often intimidated the other parties into rushing the negotiations (after all, there was a rather large man with rather large dogs very upset about being separated from his large dogs), and ultimately served to aid Bjorn. His home life, however, began to fall apart. From time to time he took his aggression out on his wife and children, usually verbally and sometimes physically. Agni endured for the most part, trying to yell him down and force him off of his high horse, but when he nearly broke their older son's back, she packed her bags and brought their sons across the world to Valetudo. His youngest son continued to write letters, assuring him that they were alright, but he never saw Sture or Freyr's faces again. (He still receives letters once a year, and has saved every one in a drawer in his house somewhere. Possibly with his socks.)

His wife was not the first Glacien to move to Valetudo (although half the world to escape an abusive relationship seemed highly excessive), and she was certainly not the last. Military meetings began to discuss the possibility of somehow aligning with Valetudo, or even conquering it, but were largely dismissed. If people wanted to leave Glacies for whatever reason, it was not high priority to aid them - or hinder them. Bjorn himself couldn't care less about Valetudo - unless they could help to take down their Undan attackers, they were of no consequence to him. His main concern was training more dogs, and hunting more animals. His house was empty, and he was once again able to train the more difficult animals - the ones like Pak who were challenging but in his mind rewarding. Rarely, when he hunted, he would see orphaned pups and attempt to raise those. Several times, villagers insisted he get rid of the wolves - dogs were one thing, wolves were another. He refused, of course, and played the stubborn-old-man card to end the arguments. Instead of trying to persuade him to send his wolves back to the wild, the villagers would attack kill any wolves that came towards the town, with or without Bjorn’s presence. Bjorn lost three young animals this way. Oddly enough, while Bjorn mourned his dogs, he didn’t seem as troubled by Hans’ passing. As he wrote to his son, Hans had lived a full life, and passed peacefully in his sleep, but his “dogs” had been desperate to live—until they died.

He was not dissuaded from raising more exotic (read: large and threatening) animals though. He raised one wolf, Jagare, alongside a litter of dogs. He grew up being generally protective and intimidating, but attached enough that he never wandered far. For the life of him, though, Bjorn could never get Jagare attached to a sled or searching for lost children. Tracking and tearing into seals and bears was one thing, protecting Bjorn and the other dogs was one thing, but everything else either flew over his head or Jagare felt above – Bjorn claiming the latter. Bjorn had taken great lengths to protect his dogs from the village, a little ironic given the earlier complaints. If he had to leave, he usually left his other dogs in a barn with enough meat to keep them busy, and brought Jagare with him.

As the years passed, tensions between Unda and Glacies remained high, and tensions between Valetudo and Glacies grew. Bjorn was put on standby in case of another war, and asked to train more dogs. Reluctant though he was, he wanted to protect his countrymen, and he continued to do so.

Even now, he remains on standby in case Undan attacks worsen, his age only giving him leeway to refuse.


RP Sample:
Leandro Santos wrote:
"Unda?" Leandro repeated, smiling back. He didn't understand the distinction. The only women he had spoken to for more than a few minutes were his sisters or his mother, and even if, in those brief interactions with the opposite sex, someone had made a move on Leandro, he probably would not have noticed. The man began to tuck away his remaining belongings, still discontented, but recovering. "Dat's a big trip. Quite de river between here and dere," he said, partially joking. He knew it was the sea, and not a particularly long river.

"De jungle's not a ting ya should just 'detour' in." He glanced around, hoping to see a large snake to prove his point, but saw nothing. He was certain that there were all manner of spiders and fire ants to make the journey treacherous, but he could find no examples. Instead, he punctuated each peril, gesturing with his hands the way he would to his youngest sister, or to Dian at times. "Dere are snakes, an' spiders, an' muck so thick it'll swallow you up, an' da river can't carry your boat forever."

Still, the woman seemed intent on helping him, and exploring the jungle. Or at least the river. He raised his hands in alarm as she sent her men into the river to dig through rocks for his lost flint and knives - he shook his hands in exasperation. "No no no, it's not wort' cuttin' yourselves over!"

He climbed out of his boat and waded towards the woman, reaching out to remove her arms from the water. "De flint rocks are lost, an' wit' de knives you might cut yourself. I can't help ya if you do."

That, Leandro thought, was Dian's area of expertise.

The woman asked how important the tools were to Leandro, and he smiled sincerely. This, to anyone who knew Leandro well, meant that he would be presenting a lecture of knowledge all learned by experience. Usually nasty experiences. And it would be interesting, if whoever was listening had been starved for companionship for months.

"Well de tools are for protectin' myself against de bugs in de fish," he began, wading back towards his boat. He reached for his net, and began to sift through the rocks. If he could find just one of his knives, he would be able to make due. "If ya don't cook the fish, de bugs can get into your insides and lay eggs, and ya get sick and need someone who knows their medicine. Sometimes, if ya cut open their stomaches, ya can see dese little worms inside. Dose are da fish ya have to bury, before dey get de ot'er fishies sick."

He looked at the water, hoping to see a glint of metal. If he did, he would raise it out of the water rather than using his net, or reaching in by hand. That way was safer.

"An even if I could start a fire to burn out de worms, an' didn't eat de innards, de guts make good bait for catchin' ot'er fish. If de fish ate earlier, dat makes great bait, because only de fishies really know how de fishies eat..."

Dulce must not have known what she was in for when she asked Leandro about his tools.

Alias: Wicked

Last edited by Bjorn Holt on Thu Mar 07, 2013 7:47 am; edited 65 times in total
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PostSubject: Re: Bjorn Holt   Wed Feb 13, 2013 7:22 pm

Bjorn has been blessed as an...

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Bjorn Holt


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PostSubject: Re: Bjorn Holt   Tue Mar 05, 2013 5:07 pm

Holy crap I edited this thing 63 times.

What the heck, me.

Ready for review.
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PostSubject: Re: Bjorn Holt   Thu Mar 07, 2013 1:16 am

A review has been sent to your player account.
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PostSubject: Re: Bjorn Holt   Thu Mar 07, 2013 7:58 am

Changes made, ready for re-review.
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