Member of the Northeners.

"I walked through FIRE to get here."
"I might as well set up some more traps around here."
"Åra, you really need to have some food."
"There is no such thing as ghosts. There is no such thing as ghosts. There is no such thing as ghosts."

At first, Mantra was out alone in the north. Scavenging on his own, he was constantly in search of supplies and items that would make existence a bit more worthwile for himself and his allies.

Having prowled the northern forests for weeks, Mantra eventually came to the conclusion that it might be wise to find a bunch of other people. Someone to watch his back out there. And to gather in a place that would let him sleep safely at night.

Then he met Åra. Mantra soon became a loyal supporter of the mighty wicca in the north, only leaving her company due to her plans and instructions. Both now share a deep bonding and the beefy viking always looks after his companion, even ensuring that Åra remembers to eat when she has been drifting off again in magical studies or rituals.

Their current main task is to explore the surroundings of "The Base" of the Northeners. Not much else is currently known about The Northeners, since the psychic connection from the wasteland collective suddenly broke down for unknown reasons.


{Mantra Blog Entry 003}

Report from 1st quest of the Northeners.

Having caught a fat rabbit using a simple snare, Åra and I had our best meal in days. It's not often I see her enjoying a meal.

Sometimes I worry that she'll starve herself to death in her dedication to her calling. Too focused to eat anything. Maybe she just really likes rabbit? I should try to catch more.

Finally Åra felt it was time to head out and explore one of the places I've told her about. On the way I lost track of my waymarks – which didn't bother me very much. That is, after all, how I find interesting places.

While looking for some of my own marks, we found old and unfamiliar marks – three horizontal lines carved in a tree. I wonder what they mean and who's wandered these woods before us.

Åra needed to sit down for a while so we took a rest – her sitting on the ground, eyes closed, while I looked around for anything and nothing. As soon as her energy was back, Åra pretty much jumped to her feet and ran off westwards yelling for me to follow.

That night we arrived at the coast to spend the night at a campsite I use when salvaging driftwood. I fell asleep to the sound of waves of water lapping at the rocks.

I awoke soon after to the sight of Åra guiding a man towards me, pointing an arrow at him. The first stranger we've seen. And he was strange indeed! Naked and as pale as the moon Herself.

Obviously he had gone hungry for days. He was rambling in several languages, half mad from exhaustion and exposure, most likely. He looked weak enough to snap in two with my bare hands. But he also carried deep wounds on his body with pride – the marks of his God, he claimed. He must be a tough one to still be conscious.

Åra healed his wounds, but the scars will remain. For this he called her Angel, and promised to serve. If she can heal his mind, he might become a helpful ally.

The wasteland is our path and Åra lights our northern way.

The wasteland is our path and Åra lights our northern way.

{Mantra Blog Entry 002}

Continuously I learn something new.
I push what I already know to new heights.
I gain new insights and expand my understanding.
I walk the road to enlightenment.

The wasteland is my teacher.

{mantra Blog Entry 001}

Hey, it's me, Mantra.
Open up, will you?

Thanks - it's getting dark, and I don't wanna spend one more night out there alone until I've had a warm meal and some clean water. I've been drinking from muddy puddles the last couple of days, and I don't feel too good.

This place ain't exactly the Hilton, but I'll take it. Wait, what was a Hilton? It's weird out there, man. Like, I'm certain the crows were following me for a while. I tried catching one to eat, but they seem even smarter than owls. It was as if they laughed at my traps - but I'll get better, and we'll make a nice crow stew.

Speaking of food - what's for supper?
(Still got these weird nightmares. They keep me tossing and turning at night… I need something that helps me sleep at night.)

Hmm? What's that? Sorry - I was lost in thought for a moment. Yeah, I found someone. Some sort of mystic. She calls herself Åra, and she's agreed to "guide my spirit in the wasteland" - just like I was told she would. 

Oh, it spooks me, alright. But it's just like when I enter some dark cellar to scavenge; I just repeat to myself "There's no such things as ghosts. 
There's no such things as ghosts. There's no such things as ghosts" while putting one foot in front of the other.