Gunnar

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Submitted non-player characters have been fleshed out in detail and are ready for review by the other developers. Once they have been reviewed and agreed upon, they become accepted NPCs.


Fluff

Gunnar tosses snowballs into his prisoner's face from a short distance away until he regains consciousness.

"Magnus Larsson?" he says, as the groaning man begins to struggle against the ropes tying him to the old flowery armchair. "You are Magnus Larsson, right? I mean, they gave me a description but...with the bruises and all...incidentally, you've probably noticed that you're naked."

Larsson's head droops. He mutters, numbly, tiny trails of drool freezing across his chin,

"Mthrfckr..."

Gunnar wraps his pudgy fingers about the man's chin and tilts it gently upwards.

"The family of Ana Lindquist prepared a statement," he says, "that they requested I read to you before you died. I know it began with the words, 'Magnus Larsson, you took innocence and turned it to despair. Our trust in you was repaid by the lowest act a man may take against a woman."

He hesitates, his enormous stomach heaving up and down inside the thick fur coat, and tugs at his slightly ridiculous deerstalker.

"I can't remember the rest of it," he confesses, "but it was full of fine sentiments and powerful rhetoric, so you just think about what those might have been, Magnus Larsson."

"P-p-pls," Larsson manages. He manages to meet Gunnar's eyes. "P-p-p-pls dnt..."

"Now, my name is Gunnar Fredriksen," Gunnar says, "Or 'Gunnar the Gut' to my friends. Hi. Now, if I may offer a few words of advice so that you can see maybe where you went wrong - it is the lowest thing a man can become, when he takes the decision to rape. To take the union - the bliss of sexual congress, God-given bliss - and to usurp that adult trust and make the union a horrid domination of one party over the other, the victim's body and private self violated...that is an act that makes a man a beast."

Larsson's naked wrists tug at his bonds. His hands are turning blue. His body is beginning to coil in on itself, trying in vain to protect his shrivelled genitals from the full chilly blast of the wind and the cold.

"Every man and woman on this earth," Gunnar continues, "has dark thoughts and dark temptations, of one sort or another. And, out here in the wild, there are those who think that as there is no law, they can get away with anything. And there are those who understand the law within themselves, which must be kept to. And I wish, for your sake, Magnus Larsson, that you'd fucked Ana in your mind's eye every night instead of creeping out and trying to do it to her in the coalshed."

"I cn - I cn py you," the man mumbles. His red-rimmed eyes are beginning to ice over. He gazes upwards, blindly. "Whtuvva they ped you, I cn..."

Gunnar ruffles his hair. "Bless you, my boy," he says, "but that isn't the way I work. And besides, my payment's right here."

He waddles unhurriedly back towards his sled and begins to rummage in the bags laid out on top. After a few seconds, he produces a heavy machete, and hefts it.

Larsson goes berserk. Straining furiously at the ropes constraining him, he rocks backwards and forwards, moaning as if in pain. He cannot move; the sweat and ice fixes him firmly to the chair.

"Conservation," Gunnar tells him calmly, strolling back towards him. "Because I couldn't eat you whole, now, could I? Goodness, no. Food products must be stored - and we've no plenty of cold, thank the Lord. But before you freeze out, I'm afraid I am going to have to cut your arm off. I'll only have to thaw it out again otherwise."

Larsson shrieks. Gunnar hefts the machete, a look of absolute concentration upon his face, and swings downwards.


Basic Information

There are plenty out in the Scandinavian wilds who make their living through mercenary work or bounty hunting. Gunnar Fredriksen, or 'Gunnar the Gut', a large, fat, jolly and slovenly man in his late forties, deserves mention partly because he charges a great deal less than anyone else of his skill and tracking ability, partly because of his unusual insistence on only taking on tasks he judges to be ethically sound...but mainly because of the strange request he makes of every employer; that the body of the criminal he's been hired to track down will remain in his possession, and that he can dispose of it in whatever way he chooses, bringing back mementoes and, if they wish, the criminal's skull as proof that the task has been completed.


Few guess at the reality of what Gunnar does with the bodies; most prefer not to think of it. For all of his eccentricities - and the curious, burning gaze he sometimes gives those around him - the Gut is considered honest, honourable, and a welcome presence in front of a family stove, where he will tell funny stories and clown about with the children, while never accepting even the slightest bite of food.


The player can encounter Gunnar as a rival or ally in attempting to track down a murderer; the player may join up with him, try to kill him, or even (if he discovers Gunnar's cannibalistic tendencies) tempt him into breaking his code and consuming a victim who most certainly does not deserve to die.


Aims

Charming, genuinely kindly-hearted and generous Lawful Good cannibal? Is it just me who finds that concept amusing?

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