[Bios] RPC's

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Name: Haakon Olofsson
Sex: Cis-Male
Age: 25
DOB: 09 May 812 AD

Culture: Norse
Ethnicity: 50% Norse, 50% Dane
Religion: Norse Pagan

Profession: Jarl of Ravensthorpe

Leader: Self
Residence: Ravensthorpe, Mercia
Originally From: Fornburg, Norway

Sexuality: Bisexual 
Spouse: None
Partner(s): None
Concubine(s): Various Thralls 

Father: Olov Magnarsson, Jarl of Fornburg (Alive)
Mother: Idra Sigurdsdottir, Sheildmaiden (Deceased)
Siblings: Knut Olofsson, Heir of Fornburg  (Alive)
               Freydis Olofsdottir, Shieldmaiden (Alive)
Offspring: No legal offspring





Height: 6'3"
Weight: 210 lbs
Eye Color: Hazel 
Hair Color: Brown 

Dominant Hand: Right
Distinguishing Features: Cheeky Smile
Dimples | Messy, Curly Hair


Scar(s): Many
Piercing(s): None
Tattoos: Forearms

Alignment: Chaotic Good

Positive Traits: Gregarious | Playful
Loyal | Curious

Negative Traits: Stubborn | Aloof
Single-minded | Too Laid Back




Listen, if bitches were aware of genetics at a scientific level and not a Game of Thrones level during this time, Haakon is a beautiful package of all the good genes of his historic line. Ya boy is out here killing the game with this towering height and these muscles; pecks, delts and traps on point. Eat it. Gold and mystery twinkle in those hazel eyes. Hair cropped shorter than most of his peers, it curls just enough to be annoying when having to be styled. He wears a full beard and started the traditional tattoos of his people around his wrist when he was given his warriors band.

From the onset, Haakon looks like any other Viking monster but it only takes a few moments in his presence to see the playfulness and clever mystery of his personality that mirrors a very poignant ancestor in his line. Playfulness aside, he's a beast on the battlefield and there something about a man that won't hesitate to kill you for an insult with a smile on his face that is a little fucking terrifying. If that doesn't scare you, you're a psycho so come sit by me.

So, let's beat around the bush, because Haakon is a whore. You can be salty all you want, but if you were fine and had access to all the flavors, you would be too. Even while securing his own legacy on the isle of Britannia, he was always one to stop and smell all the roses and even some of the bushes. Wink, wink.




Growing up as part of a long line of history making thugs leaves you with big ass boots to fill, but Haakon was never scared. From a very young age, he knew that he would have carve out his own path, it was only matter of picking the soil on which to do it. It wasn't long after he became a man in the eyes of his society that Haakon started to lay the tracks for his legacy, securing deep and loyal friendships and scouting many lands during raids with his father and his siblings.

So, Britian it was, a land that had been tendered by his ancestors and was a jumping point to explore so many different lands... and people. With his fierce sister at his side, he was or felt, that he was unstoppable. Then somebody's god was like... here you go motherfucker and threw a beautiful red-headed princess into the mix.

So here the fuck we go.

Name: Freydis Olofsdottir 
Sex: Female 
Age: 22
DOB: 29 March 815 A.D.

Culture: Norse
Ethnicity: 50% Norse, 50% Dane
Religion: Norse Pagan 

Profession: Shieldmaiden 

Leader: Haakon Olofsson 
Residence: Ravensthorpe Settlement 
Originally From: Fornburg, Norway 

Sexuality: Pansexual 
Spouse: None
Partner(s): Many 

Father: Olov Magnarsson, Jarl of Fornburg (Alive)
Mother: Idra Sigurdsdottir, Shieldmaiden (Deceased)
Siblings: Knut Olofsson, Heir of Fornburg (Alive)

Haakon Olofsson, Jarl of Ravensthorpe (Alive) 

                    
Offspring: None. 





Height: 5'5"
Weight: 135 lbs
Eye Color: Blue
Hair Color: Blonde

Dominant Hand: Right
Distinguishing Features: Curly Hair, Fair Skin, Hourglass figure 


Scar(s): Many
Piercing(s): Ears
Tattoos: Raven Clan Symbol on her back 

Alignment: Lawful Neutral 

Positive Traits: Brave, Strong, Fast, Expert Swordswoman 

Negative Traits: Impulsive, Headstrong, Prone to Violence, Sadistic 




Freydis is an ideal Norse female specimen, though to call her such might result in one's untimely demise. She is fair of skin and hair, with eyes like a frozen fjord. Her body is lean and fit from battle-practice and raids, with lush feminine curves. Though aware of her beauty she values it more for a distraction than an asset, and will not hesitate to become drenched in blood and mud, or covered in scars. 



She is fiercely protective of those she loves or those who cannot stand up for themselves, to include her brother Haakon and the people of Ravensthorpe and would gladly lay down her life to defend theirs. It is her personal belief that every woman should possess the ability to defend herself, which she enforces on the women who surround her. Despite her gruff demeanor, she can be very affectionate to those she deems worthy; however, those who cross her need fear for their lives and all those they love. She will stop at nothing to achieve her goals. 



None could ever mistake her for a diplomat, for she speaks her mind without filter or care for however the blows land. It is never a guessing game where you stand with her, if she hates you she'll tell you as much, the same for love or friendship. She's not the ideal candidate to perform any negotiations beyond the scope of intimidation or the point of a blade. 




Freydis was the youngest daughter of Jarl Olof Magnarsson and his shieldmaiden bride Idra, daughter of Sigurd The Snake Eye (Son of Ragnar Lothbrok and Aslaug). From the moment she could grasp a blade firmly in her hand she was trained to become a shieldmaiden, training alongside her mother and the other warriors at Fornburg. Many joke that she was raiding before she could speak in complete sentences, though this is perhaps an exaggeration. She was taught to read and write, as well as manage and defend a large estate--raids work both ways after all. 


Following the death of her mother, with whom she was particularly close, remaining in Fornburg was only painful, so at the first suggestion of her brother Haakon to sail westward she leapt, following him to Britain and helping settle Ravensthorpe. She managed the colony in his absence, standing in as Jarl and stepping back aside upon his return. She knew every stone, person, and stalk of grain associated with the settlement like the back of her hand and made frequent rounds to oversee its status and fortifications.

Name: Étaín mac Alpín
Sex: Female
Age: 19
DOB: 24 September 818 A.D.

Culture: Gael 
Ethnicity: 50% Scotti, 25% Pict, 25% Anglo-Saxon
Religion: Christian

Profession: Thrall of Ravensthorpe (Presently), Princess of Alba (By Birth)

Leader: Alpín, King of Alba
Residence: Ravensthorpe, Mercia, England
Originally From: Scone, Kingdom of Alba

Sexuality: Demisexual  
Spouse: None
Partner(s): None

Father: Alpín mac Echdach, King of Alba (Alive)
Mother: Otha of Bebbanburgh, Queen of Alba (Alive)
Siblings: Donnal mac Ailpin, Prince of Alba (Alive)
              Kenneth mac Ailpin, Prince of Alba (Alive)
              Griggair mac Ailpin, Prince of Alba (Alive)
              Gruoch mac Ailpin, Lady of Meath (Alive) 
Offspring: None






Height: 5'7"
Weight: 140 lbs
Eye Color: Blue-Green
Hair Color: Ginger Red 

Dominant Hand: Right
Distinguishing Features: Strong chin, Long pointed nose, Freckles, Wavy Hair, Fair Skin


Scar(s): None
Piercing(s): Ears
Tattoos: None

Alignment: Lawful Neutral 

Positive Traits: Intelligent, Organized, Shrewd, Charismatic 

Negative Traits: Manipulative, Fiery Temper, Ruthless, Proud 



Étaín is classic beauty, mirroring her mother's soft feminine features and father's fair coloring. Her cheekbones are high and sculpted under close-set rounded eyes of blue-green. Her face is oval shaped with a strong chin and slender neck to support it. Waves of bright ginger red fall gracefully down her back to her waist, complimenting her cool toned alabaster complexion. The lightest sprinkling of freckles lines her cheeks, nose, and the backs of her hands--the only areas with prolonged exposure to sunlight. 

Her figure is comparable to the statues of Venus lining the Roman ruins across the realm, slender but not slim with full breasts, a curved waist, and a supple rounded butt. Her hips are wideset and fit for birthing sons without the worry of getting stuck in the birth canal. Despite her comfortable life, she is relatively strong and naturally muscled; although, frequent exercise and horseback riding help to maintain and enhance this.  

As for her character, she is as refined and graceful as any woman of noble or royal breeding. Though not prone to outbursts, her temper is a force to be reckoned with when pushed past her limits, and like her fellow Scotsmen she does not shy away from acts of cruelty. Still, one could never consider her unjust, albeit harsh. Conversely, her general unprovoked demeanor is genuinely pleasant and charming with a sharp wit and great intellect. 




The Princess Étaín of Alba was born to King Alpín and his lady wife Otha of Bebbanburgh a Northumbrian noblewoman, in the autumn of 818 A.D. She was the youngest of his four legitimate children and was therefore brought up at the royal court of Scone within the palace walls. All the king's children received the same basic education, though the girls focused more on needlework and prayers rather than swordplay like their brothers. All were taught to be fine horsemen and women. For companionship, the king included his numerous nieces and nephews, cousins, and bastard offspring in the royal nursery. 

Furthermore, she frequented her childhood winters with her mother in Northumbria to escape the harsh chill of Alba (as well as her mother's general distaste for her brutish husband its king). During this time, she formed close relationships with her maternal kin, whom she would often visit later on. However, during her teens she was sent to be fostered by the Duke of Moray in the Highlands, promised to be wed to his son. After two years the boy withered of illness before the match could ever take place and she was returned to Scone. This turn of events disturbed her little as she'd never particularly cared for the duke's son in the first place, and as the king's youngest daughter the primary attention was on her older siblings for matches anyway. 

As she entered into adulthood the matter of marriage resurfaced once again, though out of affection for her and fondness for her company, King Constantine never truly pressed the issue. Étaín was a popular figure at court at often stood in place for her mother as hostess at events. At this point, Queen Otha had decided that her duty to the king was complete, he had his heir, spares, and two daughters, so she primarily resided at Stirling Castle away from "oaf-king" and court where she was entertained by her garden and lap dogs. Étaín traveled between Scone and Stirling often to oversee her parents' wellbeing.

Name: Eyvaldr Arnkellsson
Sex: Cis-Male
Age: 26
DOB: 20 June 811 AD

Culture: Norse
Ethnicity: 50% Norse, 40% Aksumite, 10% Greek
Religion: Conflicted between Christianity and Norse Paganism

Profession: Viking Warrior

Leader: Haakon Olofsson
Residence: Ravensthorpe, Mercia
Originally From: Constantinople, Byzantine Empire

Sexuality: Heterosexual
Spouse: None
Partner(s): None
Concubine(s): None

Father: Arnkell Hafrsson, Viking Warrior (Deceased)
Mother: Shuri Assefa, Weaver (Deceased)
Siblings: None
Offspring: None





Height: 6'5"
Weight: 235 lbs
Eye Color: Dark Brown
Hair Color: Black

Dominant Hand: Left
Distinguishing Features: Darker Skin, Muscular, Tall, Beard


Scar(s): Many
Piercing(s): Ears
Tattoos: Chest

Alignment: Neutral Good

Positive Traits: Intelligent, Honorable, Expert Warrior, Observant

Negative Traits: Cynical, Tunnel-Visioned, Stubborn, Anxious




Eyvaldr has an interesting blend of features. His darker coloring is that of his Aksumi mother while his large and muscular stature can be attributed to his Norse father. His face, meanwhile, has an intriguing mix of both with a hint of something else in the nose, something Mediterranean. All of it comes together to make the Viking warrior visually striking in a way that has earned him the nickname of "pretty boy" from the fellow warriors in his raid crew. He rolls his eyes at that nickname and doesn't pay much attention to his appearance beyond general cleanliness and grooming.

As for his character, Eyvaldr is something of a gentle giant. He wasn't raised in the Norse culture, so he doesn't have that same predilection for violence. He has a naturally inquisitive mind that makes him intensely curious about the world around him and everything in it. He is quick to offer a smile and witticism, as well as a listening ear to any that need it. He has no trouble, however, falling into the role of the Viking warrior and doing what he sees as his duty to the clan that has adopted and embraced him so. He also has no issue being assertive when the situation calls for it, though it rarely does outside of raiding.




Eyvaldr was born to Shuri Assefa, an Aksumi weaver, and Arnkell Hafrsson, a Viking warrior. His father came across his mother in the thriving markets of Constantinople, knocked her up, and then promptly returned to Norway. Shuri had Eyvaldr and raised him on her own, rearing him on tales of his father, a mighty and fearsome warrior that was known through all the lands. These stories ignited a spark of interest within Eyvaldr concerning his Norse half, a curiosity that would endure through the years. His mother noticed this spark and was generous in giving what information on his culture and homeland his father had given to her in their time together. Eyvaldr was eternally appreciative.

His upbringing was normal. His mother ensured that he was educated and well taken care of, and he helped her with her weaving and whatever physical labor needed to be done around their dwelling, as he was always bigger and stronger. All the while, he learned the art of combat from a regular client of his mother's, an old warrior that taught him the way of the sword. Things continued in this vein until he was around 17, just as he coming of age. Sickness struck his mother, and it worked quickly. Despite intervention from the healer local to their neighborhood, within months she was but a whisper of the woman she used to be, and not long after, she passed. Eyvaldr took the time to mourn, and then he made a decision to depart from Constantinople. He would head to Norway in search of his father.

Eyvaldr knew where to start thanks to the stories his mother would use to tell him as a child, about the fearsome Raven Clan that his father belonged to and what region of Norway they called home. It took him some time, but he eventually tracked down the clan and was able to convince his father that he was indeed his son. The reuniting wasn't the most heartfelt, but Eyvaldr had his father back, and he wasn't going to waste this opportunity.

After a period of assessment, and then further training to refine his combat ability, he was welcomed into the Raven Clan, and eventually his father's raiding crew led by Haakon Olofsson.For the following three years, Eyvaldr raided with and grew close with the crew over the following years, and all was well until a little after his 21st birthday. They were all on a road, and there was more resistance than anticipated. His father was struck down and died later that day. Not long after, Haakon made the decision to sail for Mercia to establish a settlement, leaving Norway behind. Eyvaldr and the rest of the raid crew gladly followed their leader. And now, half a decade later, Ravensthorpe is thriving, and following a successful raid on a wealthy town, is housing some thralls of significant import.

Name: Genevieve mac Maldoven
Sex: Cis - Female
Age: 19
DOB: 28 September 818 A.D.

Culture: Gael
Ethnicity: 25% Scotti | 25% Pictish | 50% Andalusian 
Religion: Christian

Profession: Thrall of Ravensthorpe (Presently)

Leader: Alpín mac Echdach, King of Alba
Residence: Ravensthorpe, Mercia, England
Originally From: Scone, Kingdom of Alba

Sexuality: Bisexual
Spouse: None
Partner(s): Taking Applications
Concubine(s): Taking Applications

Father: Maldoven mac Echdach, Prince of Alba (Alive)
Mother: Sula, Exotic Dancer (Deceased)
Siblings: Aed mac Maldoven, Half-Brother (Alive)
Offspring: None





Height: 5'0"
Weight: 110 lbs
Eye Color: Hazel
Hair Color: Brown

Dominant Hand: Right
Distinguishing Features: Beauty Marks
Bright Eyes


Scar(s): Sickle Shaped Scar On Her Left Upper Arm
Jagged Two Inch Scar On Her Right Hip | Bite Mark Scars
On Her Upper Back Near Her Neck | Whip Marks
Piercing(s): Ears | Nose
Tattoos: None

Alignment: Chaotic Good

Positive Traits: Brave | Beautiful | Generous | Compassionate

Negative Traits: Melancholic | Vengeful | Lustful | Stubborn




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Maldoven mac Echdach, better known as Maldoven the Mad Prince of Alba, lives in the shadow of his older brother, King Alpín, habitually exploiting the freedoms afforded to the second born, all the while loathing his secondary existence. The name he made for himself derives from the raw animalistic ferocity with which he carries himself on the battlefields of Alba, as well as his obvious lack of appreciation for marriage to one of the most beautiful women of the time, Lady Brida of Strathearn. Even the unrivaled beauty of one such as she could not satisfy the hunger of a man forever destined to be second place. Together the pair produced only one living son compared to his brother’s brood of three sons and two daughters. This shortcoming was accredited to his bride’s fertility and stood as justification for his ever-wandering eye. Still, in spite of his frequent and unsubtle infidelities he only managed to sire a singular bastard daughter, but who would dare cast the blame upon the husband over the dried-out husk of a woman who failed him?

This daughter, this insignificant bastard daughter of the “Mad Prince,” did somehow manage to tame the heart of the beast—at least for herself. Maldoven had scarcely bestowed such affection upon a pet, much less a child. What’s more, she was the daughter of his dearest friend’s sister, a renowned Andalusian dancer named Sula who arrived at the royal court of Scone to entertain the masses and seemingly managed to land her final twirl in the bed of a prince. Sula’s brother Al-Jasur, a famed Andalusian warrior, introduced them after the performances. For this he was granted primary guardianship of Maldoven’s most treasured possession when she was presented by her mother in the highlands months later. Knowingly, Sula had deposited their daughter with her princely father in hopes that she would be looked after, for shortly after it was reported that Sula had withered away from postpartum complications on a ship back to Andalusia.

While the girl lived a charming lifestyle and never lacked for affection, she also never lacked the wrath of her scorned stepmother. Additionally, she suffered infrequent sexual abuse at the hands of her own half-brother. Threats and admonition kept these tidings secret from her father or uncle’s ears, and the damage was done. Naturally vivacious and boisterous Genevieve grew to be somewhat of an emotional firecracker. In order to “calm her down,” Brida suggested that time at court in Scone might do her some good, and so she was sent to foster with her uncle and aunt, the king and queen of Alba. Though her fosterers were nowhere near as doting or inclined to spoil her as had her father, it was a welcome escape all the same. Genevieve became the constant companion and friend of her cousin The Princess Etain. Still, no respite was absolute, for the abuse would continue anytime her family might come visit court.

Name: Roeki Torvansdottir
Sex: Female
Age: 24
DOB: 21 December

Culture: Norse
Ethnicity: 50% Norse 50% Swedish
Religion: Norse Pagan

Profession: Seer

Leader: Haakon Olofsson
Residence: Ravensthorpe, Mercia
Originally From: Fornburg, Norway

Sexuality: Demisexual
Spouse: A farmer
Partner(s): Husband


Father: Torvan Skrymirsson, Warrior (Deceased)
Mother: Olga Harlodsdottir, Healer (Deceased)
Siblings: None
Offspring: None





Height: 5'4"
Weight: 112 lbs
Eye Color: Blue
Hair Color: Blond

Dominant Hand: Left
Distinguishing Features: Empty Eyes


Scar(s): X's on her eyelids
Piercing(s): Ears | Nose
Tattoos: Left side of her body

Alignment: Neutral Good

Positive Traits: Kind | Eccentric | Empathic | Diplomatic

Negative Traits: Stubborn | Hangry | Spacey




Reoki is a slender woman of height whose natural viking attributes are far overshadows by her choosen adorenments. Naturally connected to her gods, Reoki must balance the constant stream of energy she receives from both god and man with crystals, earth and cloth woven in designs that mimick the twisting energies inside of her. While outside of their settlement in Mercia, she keeps her head covered from the nose up to keep from starling outsides with the color of her eyes and the scars on her eyelids.

As a child, Reoki had the bluest eyes anyone had ever seen, but as her connection to the gods grew stronger it seemed the color drained from them until they were nothing but clear crystal-quartz. When she landed in Mercia to join her kin, the raiding party took a turn through a priory and one of the monks attempted to scratch her eyes out, leaving her with the scars.

When the color began to drain from her eyes, Reoki began to tattoo her body. Her entire left side, from under her lip to her toes is covered in swirling blue ink.

Under the light of the moon she scrubs herself with the heads of sunflowers and spends so much time around incense and hearths that she smells of sunflowers and fire.

With the tips of her fingers, lower lip and earlobes black from ash, the many crystals, stones, bones and beads she wears in her hair and on her clothes, it's easy to pick out the mystical heathen from the crowd.

As a person, Reoki is kind, soft-spoken and protective of her family, her culture and her kin. The only things that send her into rages are a lack of food and anything seemingly damaging or dangerous to her husband. Emotionally sensitive to all around her, she also lives with the constant chatter of the gods in her ears, so it's often hard to tell if she's speaking to you, about you, or simply for the gods. She can be stubborn and hard to move like a mule, and takes a particular joy in handing down the riddles of the gods but with her mind constantly flitting from one realm to the other, roaming so many paths at once, she is often at the center of her Jarl's diplomatic decisions.




Reoki, since she has yet to have children, is the last female descendant of Flóki Vilgerðarson by way of his son, Skrymir and his grandson, Torvan, Reoki's father.

TBA.

Name: Uhtred Ødgersson
Sex: Male
Age: 30
DOB: Nov. 21

Culture: Norse
Ethnicity: Nordic
Religion: Norse Pagan

Profession: Predominately a Blacksmith. Has skills in Hunting and as a Warrior.

Leader: Haakon, Jarl of Ravensthorpe
Residence: Ravensthorpe, Mercia
Originally From: Horgardalr, Norway

Sexuality: Sex is sex
Spouse: ---
Partner(s): ---
Concubine(s): ---

Father: Ødger Baelsson [Deceased - Former Viking]
Mother: Estrid Grímsdóttir
Siblings: Anja Ødgerdóttir
Offspring: Could have a few bastards out there





Height: 6'2"
Weight: 215 lbs
Eye Color: Crystalline blue; clean ice beneath an Arctic wave
Hair Color: Chestnut brown; rich like Earth's soil with hints of amber

Dominant Hand: Left
Distinguishing Features: Jawline and Eyes


Scar(s): Various. Has scars along his biceps, legs, and back due to working hard throughout his life and engaging in high-strung activities such as hunting, climbing, and hand-to-hand combat
Piercing(s): Right ear, keeps a small earring his sister had made him when she was small
Tattoos: Runes that sketch into a goat's skull encompasses most of his back and upper shoulders.

Alignment: Chaotic Good

Positive Traits: Adaptable | Congenial | Loyal | Honest

Negative Traits: Impulsive | Sarcastic | Critical | Impatient




With a figure carved from years of strenuous, hard work, Uhtred is the image of what many Saxon men most fear when their women lay eyes upon a Viking. Broad-shouldered with a soft tan due to days in the sun, his hair is long and often pulled back, with a groomed beard and stach to accompany the look. Over the years he has accrued decorative pieces of ink embedded into his skin, each telling their own story that he uses to memorialize significant moments or experiences in his life. The goat head, for instance, is in recognition of his father, for his steadfast and strong minded personality; always thinking with his head ("horns") and barreling into something, oftentimes too recklessly, which appears to be a trait he has inherited.

While he is conscientious and loyal, humans are infallible creatures, with Uhtred being no different. Prone to impulsivity with a critical eye, his impatient nature has caused problems in the past that have ensured he may find difficulty resting when his mind recollects those former acts. He is a good man, however, who cares deeply for his family. He is more of a father than a brother, most times, to his younger sister Anja, and takes on the role of a caregiver for their ailing mother. The decision to move to an entirely new set of land was something pushed forth by him, believing the new air may do well in bolstering his mother's health, and giving his sister a new sense of purpose in her pursuits.

He does hold a basic level of education in understanding how to read and write, but needs to expand his knowledge on other languages, for his English his still rather guttural and broken. As he aims to give use in this newly developed village through the practice of armory and weapons forging, he does have other skills that can benefit if and when his Jarl may call upon.




TBW

Name: Iðunn Helgadóttir
Sex: Female
Age: 23
DOB: Jan. 28

Culture: Norse
Ethnicity: 50% Nordic | 50% Celtic
Religion: Norse Pagan

Profession: Völva | Healer

Leader: None yet
Residence: Wandering
Originally From: Naumudalr, Norway

Sexuality: Sex is sex
Spouse: ---
Partner(s): ---
Concubine(s): ---

Father: Cillian Breathnach [Deceased]
Mother: Helga Bjornsdóttir [Deceased]
Siblings: Vedyan Breathnach [Alive | 34 | Half-Sibling]
Offspring: ---



Height: 5'7"
Weight: 120 lb
Eye Color: Dark, obsidian eyes. Her pupil and the dark tint of her irises almost appear to me one, giving her a sight that many can find both enchanting and unsettling.
Hair Color: Pale, platinum blonde; pin straight and runs down above her rear.

Dominant Hand: Ambidextrous
Distinguishing Features: Eyes | Mythical Looking


Scar(s): Has two scars on the inner of each wrist; an act of defiance against those who had tried to imprison her
Piercing(s): Both ears & both nostrils
Tattoos: Runes and symbolism that are connected to the Gods she serves

Alignment: Chaotic Good

Positive Traits: Insightful | Charismatic | Determined | Persistent

Negative Traits: Manipulative | Argumentative | Suspicious | Vindictive



Idunn is a willowy, ethereal beauty that has a look that cannot be compared. Some may consider her image 'alien', with her wide set eyes and angular features, but she uses it to her advantage when adorned in the natural elements of vines, twig, and bone. With her heritage of having a Celtic father and Nordic mother, she has an alabaster complexion paired with pale hair, but with dark, foreboding eyes that often seem to drag anyone in when they are peering into her gaze.

Since she was a child she often experienced visions, all that resulted in her parents detailing it being the wills of the Gods. She would take these interpretations and allow them to guide her steps, and as such would seem to evoke premonitions; slips of the future that could allow her to give warning, be it good or bad.

After her parents had perished in a raid, she was forced into being alone, and it was a struggle for her life that she had challenged each step of the way. Idunn refused to be broken or beaten, and this has sculpted her personality into both positive and negative ways. While she is a determined, ambitious individual who will dig through the mud and muck to come out the other side, she is not opposed to doing anything that is necessary to get there. Her vindictive nature also cannot be quelled, and she ensured those who had threatened her peace burned externally in a far worse fashion than they had tried to lay ruin to her own mind.

Idunn is passionate, devoted, and free, but all that comes at the cost of facing difficulty in having others get close to her. Her walls are strong due to her past, but when trust is managed, she can be an eternal companion that will lay waste to those who may be considered an obstacle or threat.


TBW

Name: Anja Ødgerdóttir
Sex: Cis-Female
Age: 24
DOB: 29 August 813 A.D.



Culture: Norse
Ethnicity: Norse
Religion: Norse Pagan


Profession: Healer & Huntress


Leader: Haakon Olofsson, Jarl of Ravensthorpe
Residence: Ravensthorpe Settlement, Mercia
Originally From: Horgardalr, Norway


Sexuality: Bisexual
Spouse: None
Partner(s): None


Father: Ødger Baelsson, Viking Raider (Deceased)
Mother: Estrid Grímsdóttir, Former Shieldmaiden (Alive)
Siblings: Uhtred Ødgersson, Warrior and Blacksmith (Alive)
Offspring: None






Height: 5'7"
Weight: 121 lbs
Eye Color: Brown
Hair Color: Brown


Dominant Hand: Right
Distinguishing Features: Willowy Frame, Rectangular Face


Scar(s): Nothing notable, various scratches here and there. 
Piercing(s): Earlobes 
Tattoos: Runes on her shoulders, stretching across her shoulder blades in the back, and swirling delicately down her arms. They pay homage to the goddesses, Frejya, Skadi, and Eir. 

Alignment: Lawful Good


Positive Traits: Thoughtful | Steady Handed | Observant | Gentle


Negative Traits: Shy | Passive | Reserved | Unforgiving   




Though her true calling is healing, she is also a skilled archer and huntress. These were necessary skills she learned during her childhood to both help protect the home and put food on the table when the men were off raiding. She had no personal interest in becoming a shieldmaiden, not that her brother would have allowed it, but did find it necessary to defend against potential threats from rival clans or Germanic soldiers. 

As mentioned before, caring for others and tending the sick are her primary interests in life, and she spent a great deal of her childhood, adolescence and early adulthood fine-tuning these skills. She keeps a ledger of plants, herbs, and other resources that can be used to create remedies or poultices. Her books also detail what substances can be harmful if ingested but beneficial if used topically. What she lacks in physical strength she makes up for in constitution, able to set broken bones, close up gaping wounds, or deal with foul-smelling bodily fluids without so much as batting a lash. 

Despite her compassion for others, she tends to be somewhat shy around new people until warmed up to them. This is set aside from her work, where she enters into a near-trance like zone. She enjoys reading and writing above all else and could spend countless hours with her nose in a tome while seated in a peaceful meadow.






The youngest child of warriors, Anja has never known what it is to live in a time of peace. Her father was a bloodthirsty raider who feared only the gods themselves, and her mother was an equally fearsome shieldmaiden before poor health rendered her otherwise. The girl's older brother followed a similar path as their parents; though, he also learned the skill of blacksmithing to support the family upon his father's untimely death. Unlike most of her family, Anja possesses a gentler spirit, preferring to mend rather than cause harm to others. Despite their differences, the family treasured this tender daughter, and gave their blessing when she chose to follow the path of healing. Still, learning to protect oneself and their village in such hostile times was never an option, so she was taught the skill of archery, which her natural grace allowed her to excel at. 

With the gap in their ages and early occurrence of their father's demise, Anja's brother Uthred was the only real father-figure she ever had beyond vague memories. She was raised and educated by the joined efforts of her brother and mother as well as interacting with other local villagers and traders. As soon as she was able, she joined the village healers and herbalists to begin her training, starting with watering the plants and cleaning up messes and eventually working her way up to crafting poultices and delivering babies. When she wasn't tending to the sick and wounded in the town, her mother's rapidly declining health called for her full attention at home, particularly in the absence of her brother during extended raids. 

Increased financial hardships, brought on by the continuous war and depletion of resources, lead Anja to pursue additional work with her bow, both to provide food for their own household as well as to sell the pelts and meat at market. Thankfully she had her brother's guidance in this before ever having to take on the task alone. 

When the opportunity to relocate to Britain arose, she followed her brother without question, not bound by any oaths of marriage or otherwise to remain in Norway. While the undertaking was primarily to see to their mother's welfare, she too rejoiced at the prospect of a better life. There was nothing left for them in Norway, and tales of the growing settlement of Ravensthorpe in Mercia, founded by Norsemen like themselves, were too enticing to pass up.

Name: Skoll Ravenfeather
Sex: Male
Age: 27
DOB: 03 April

Culture: Viking
Ethnicity: Scandinavian
Religion: Norse

Profession: Warrior

Leader: Haakon Olofson, Jarl of Ravensthorpe
Residence: Ravensthorpe Settlement, Mercia
Originally From: Norway

Sexuality: Heterosexual
Spouse: None
Partner(s): None
Concubine(s): None

Father: Baldr Ravenfeather, Jarl of Ravenfeather Clan (Deceased)
Mother: Brynja Ravenfeather, Wife (Deceased)
Siblings: Gunnar Ravenfeather, Small Child (Deceased)
Offspring: None





Height: 5'11"
Weight: 180 lbs
Eye Color: Light Blue
Hair Color: Blonde

Dominant Hand: Right
Distinguishing Features: A scar over his left eye.  His hands are tattooed black with the tattoos slowly grading into twisting, stylized flames up the forearms reaching to the bicep.


Scar(s): One over his left eye is the most immediately noticeable, though it is old and has since healed with no damage to the eye itself.  A smattering of an array of scars adorn his torso from the various fights he’s been in, none worthy of particular mention.  Battle scars that show experience and nothing more.
Piercing(s): The canine tooth of a wolf pierces his left earlobe.
Tattoos: An intricate array of memories are bled black into his skin but most notably: blackened hands that slowly gradate into stylised flames up the forearm and bicep and a stylized raven with outstretched wings tattooed over his chest.

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Positive Traits: Brave, Diligent, Patient, Temperate

Negative Traits: Ambitious, Sadistic, Stubborn, Vengeful




Physical Appearance:  Skoll is nothing short of typical when it comes to what the visage of a Viking would be like, although his above average height of standing close to 6’ meant that he generally towered above most of his companions whose average height was closer to 5’7”.  Such a gift generally represented those of a high-born, leading to speculation about Skoll’s origins, that of which he couldn’t remember much of himself.

First and foremost he was a warrior, and he was certainly built like one.  Raw rippling musculature laced across a broad chest that had been built up over years of wielding heavy axes for the love of wealth and war, tapers into ripped abdominals and narrower hips.  Lower still were muscle-bound legs used to marching through thick snow drifts, climbing the wild and rugged landscape or running long distances over desolate plains.  Across his hardened sun kissed skin lay the scars of countless battles that he wore with a warrior’s pride- each and every mark showing his imperfections as a fighter, his vulnerability as a mortal man, but also his strength to overcome his adversity in spite of these mistakes that hadn’t cost him- yet.  Memories adorn his skin in the form of dark, intricate tattoos across his chest and back.  Particularly noticeable though, (when his arms are uncovered), is the way that his hands are completely blackened as though he fell into several inches of black ash, the darkness rising up his fore-arms into stylized flames that lick past his elbows and eventually end at his biceps.

In attire, the man’s torso is born bare and free, a choice he makes because it ups the stakes of every battle.  It is as though he taunts his opponent with his vulnerability, confident in his ability to defend it without the need of armour.  Warm furs cover his shoulders as a mantle, extending into a half-cape that falls to the midpoint of his back.  More furs wrap his arms and legs for warmth where the extremities may suffer.  Sitting upon the furs draped over his shoulders are pauldrons carved from bone, strapped with the twisting, ornate ivory horns of bulls; a memento of victory over a rival who had plagued him for years and ended with Skoll eventually killing him.

The man’s face features upon a light tanned rugged complexion; wild and untamed like a Brumby, with a haphazardly braided mane to match.  Usually the hair on the left side of his pale blonde head is adorned with intricate plaits, woven with whatever muted coloured threads he had on hand at the time to give him an ever changing streak of chaos within the order he imposed upon the wayward strands.  The rest of his hair is usually flipped over to the right and left to hang loose and free, the symbolism known only to himself- though it does lend itself to that wild stallion appeal; one of strength, will and conviction to succeed.
A strong straight nose juts from his prominent brow, which overshadows the crisp blue hues of an intense gaze.  As with all eyes, Skoll’s may tell one everything about the man if they are careful not to be lost within the beautifully hazardous depths they hold.  For the unobservant though, they are like icy shields simultaneously burning with the hot passion of blue fire- an impossibility or hypocrisy of a man with intelligence shedding blood for meager spoils.  Below the sharp spearhead of his chiseled nose lie lips that are almost always cast into an unreadable expression. Acting as the gatekeeper to his shielded thoughts, (unlike his eyes that speak volumes more without the utterance of a single word), they rarely open to speak unless he has something pointed and worthwhile saying, at which point the listener is graced with dark smooth tones.  Calm and steady, his voice shows restraint and consideration, but an ever present threat within them remains like a strong undercurrent below still waters.

Personality: Put bluntly, Skoll may look like a typical Viking warrior, but in essence he doesn’t act like one.  This is because he doesn’t seem to have a clear motive behind his actions, not seeming to act upon the sins that plague other men; not for lust of blood or flesh, gluttony or greed. This makes him a bit of a mystery to the other men and women he happens to be in attendance of.  Some regard his strangeness with awe, some with love or fear, some with disgust or rivalry because of insecurities found within their own souls.  For as many battles he has fought against foreign forces, he’s fought as many feuds against those whom he runs with.  Still, there are also those that would follow him with unending loyalty if he only said the word, and yet, he never seeks for power or notoriety, preferring the freedom to do as he pleases with as little attachments to others as possible.  Perhaps that is part of his strange appeal that moves many to either love him or hate him so passionately.  The way that he wields his convictions so confidently, sometimes it seems his strength is inherently stitched into his spine.

Skoll’s selfish motives typically remain unclear.  On the battlefield he’s certainly sadistic, yet still capable of mercy; living by a code ingrained into his being through the wild blood of generations of Scandinavian savagery. Perhaps it’s the death throes of a breed that’s fighting against the inevitability of extinction.  Skoll continues to stubbornly follow the old ways in spite of more of his kin beginning to convert to the new religion. Recognising that civility comes at the cost of freedom, in some respects he sees the idea of society as nothing more than a different form of enslavement, one that wills a person to submit through obligations to arbitrary rules that make little sense other than as ways to protect the weak and bridle the strong.  A life he’d rather escape through death than see himself in servitude to, but for now he plays along with it so far as it benefits him.  Skoll much prefers being a warrior putting his life on the line than the cozy comforts of a home however, and takes every opportunity to get away and do that.





Skoll’s origins are not well known, even to himself, aside from the snippets of details he can remember from his early youth.  When he was roughly 5 years of age and already beginning the basics of training in the art of war, Skoll’s village was raided by a rival clan.  The attack came as a complete surprise and the only thing that he could remember well was the all consuming heat of the fire burning around him as their village was set alight. He didn’t remember how his mother shoved him out of the way just as a burning chunk of the structure fell upon her and his younger brother, crushing and killing them instantly.  The same chunk of structure that gave him an escape from the burning home as it tore through a burning wall.  He barely remembered clambering from the ruined house, flames licking at his heels and smoke billowing behind him, or how his father, the jarl, had seen him and subsequently engaged an intruder that was headed right for him, defending Skoll’s life with his own.  All that Skoll remembered was the heat of the flames, coughing up the soot from his lungs as the suffocating air permeated them through his breath, the stinging of his eyes from ember and acrid smoke, and something in his head telling him to run.  A voice that he listened to and as best he could- escaped into the nearby treeline.  As he reached it, he stumbled and fell, his face slamming into a jutted rock and knocking him out cold.  That was how he got the scar over his left eye.  He awoke hours later to find the village burned out and empty, with only the corpses of the dead left to tell the tale of what happened.  All he could do was leave them to rot.

From that day forth Skoll had been a quiet, lone wolf who held nothing but vengeance in his mind, though toward what he didn’t know exactly.  He was just angry but had nothing to blame.  With nowhere else to go, Skoll wandered for days to eventually find a neighbouring tribe that his father had taken him to several times, the jarl of that tribe being his father’s twin brother - Skoll’s uncle.  His father had always told him that the allegiance of their tribes were bound by something stronger than blood: spirit.  That if he ever needed to go somewhere, that his brother’s tribe would always take him in.  Which is exactly what they did.  The unfortunate tragedy proved as a forewarning to his uncle’s tribe who prepared to be hit next, ambushing those responsible and killing most of them.  The rest either escaped or were captured as slaves.

It didn’t bring closure to the young boy however, who voraciously thereafter participated in martial training in this new clan.  His uncle treated him like his own son even though he had several others over the course of the years.  Skoll’s uncle always maintained that Skoll was favoured by Odin and that’s why he’d been spared- his reasons for this is because of a strange curiosity that ravens seemed to take in the boy, and this strange relationship he held with those black omen bringers didn’t stop when he reached adulthood.  Of course, it could also just be superstitious eyes finding synchronicities in things that held no true meaning.  His uncle often told him of tales of the old gods, instilling the beliefs and way of life of their Norse ancestors strongly into the boy.  Since Skoll was an orphan it meant that he was to inherit nothing, but as fate would have it for the alleged Odin-favoured man, a call came out to men and women interested in joining the “Raven Clan” in settling in a new land.  With the offer of something being better than nothing, Skoll signed up for the excursion as a warrior for the Raven Clan.

Name: Uyrwen Y’vnthien
Sex: Nonbinary
Age: 28
DOB: 07 August


Culture: Danish
Ethnicity: Moroccan 50%, Danish 50%
Religion: None


Profession: Blacksmith


Leader: Haakon, Jarl of Ravensthorpe
Residence: Ravensthorpe Viking settlement in Mercia
Originally From: Morocco


Sexuality: Pansexual
Spouse: Single
Partner(s): None
Concubine(s): None


Father: Cartin Y'vnthien, Tradesman (/Deceased)
Mother: N’liangu Ttoka, Shameness (Alive/)
Siblings: Ca’lina Y'vnthien [sister], lady in waiting for a noble house (Alive/)
Siblings: Onlienn Y'vnthien [brother], warrior (Alive/)
Offspring: None




Height: 6'2"
Weight: 215 lbs
Eye Color: Hazel with flecks of blue
Hair Color: Deep Purple [dyed with natural indigo on light brown hair]


Dominant Hand: Left
Distinguishing Features: The last digit of her ring finger is missing.




Scar(s): Small scar on the left side of her lip
Piercing(s): Too many to name
Tattoos: One private one of her family name


Alignment: None


Positive Traits: Strong willed, determined, kind, loyal, fierce


Negative Traits: Stubborn, holds grudges, slow trusting, bit of a know-it -all




Uyrwen appears as a tall, brown skinned woman with purple dreaded hair. The dye was a family recipe of indigo and red algae. Her eyes are large and round, with her face having strong and slightly angular features. Her body type would be considered athletic with a decent amount of muscle for her frame. Her height gave her larger feet and hands causing her to usually have to make her own armor and weapons.




Uyrwen is a strong and quiet young woman with a very strict moral code. She tries to see the good in everything and everyone though some make the unfortunate error of taking her kindness for weakness. With her naturally stoic demeanor others have seen her as cold and standoffish, however those closest to her would report she’d always been this way.

Since her birth, Uyrwen never cried very loudly or spoke in a higher than low volume. She once fell from her brother’s horse causing a sizable gash in her 5 year old lip but she simply tugged her brother’s tunic to let him know she was bleeding. Rarely did you catch her smiling and if ever it was always the barest crack of her lips. Calm seemed to be her default setting. One would suppose this is what made her a prime candidate to join the raiding party, leaving her home for an unknown land.

Her family had already relocated from their saharan home to take up residences with her father’s kin, Northumbria, England. Being of a norse lineage with no nobility to speak of, The Y'vnthien were humble tradesmen who had earned their name by the quality of their work and character. Their family creed ‘Trust Y'vnthien’.

While her family had chosen to stay in the northern islands with their brethren, Uyrwen was conscripted to join the raids to the lower isles, her father’s family home threatened if she did not comply. While at first she had gone along with the fight it did not sit right with her to be at odds with the people of her father's lands. Unable to reconcile between the duty to her family and the duty to her sword she defected from the raiding party  and fled to the Norse settlement in Mercia, England. Here she offered to serve under the leader Jarl Haakon, offering her services a s a smith to make her way and earn a living. She hopes her skills can be of use so she may lay low and try to forget the family she left behind.

Name: Rhaeya of the Sand (Rhaeya Ulfgurd to some)
Sex: Female
Age: 21
DOB: July 12

Culture: Assyrian/Danish/Nomadic
Ethnicity: Assyrian and Danish
Religion: Assyrian Polytheism (very similar to norse/pagan but, different)

Profession: Sellsword/Combat Trainer

Leader: None
Residence: Rogue
Originally From: Assyrian desert (what is now the modern day middle east)

Sexuality: Pansexual
Spouse: "Are you serious?"
Partner(s): "I travel alone, with my sister."


Father: Adopted father is Kalf Ulfgurd (Deceased) Biological father is Aksel Lars (Deceased)
Mother: Safina Azaraf (Deceased)
Siblings: Alara of the Sand, Healer in training (Alive)



Height: 5'5"
Weight: 126 lbs
Eye Color: Light Green
Hair Color: Dark Brown/Black and down to her waist

Dominant Hand: Both.
Distinguishing Features: Piercing eyes, beauty of an Assyrian woman


Scar(s): a small scar on the edge of her left eyebrow. She has scars on her back, all whip lashes.
Piercing(s): none
Tattoos: none

Alignment: Chaotic Good

Positive Traits: Empathetic, Diplomatic, Strong Minded, Witty, Analytical

Negative Traits: Stubborn, Impulsive, Possessive, Suspicious of almost everyone




Her skin is fairer than most Assyrians, yet more olive than most vikings. It will be rare to find a head of hair that is longer and thicker than hers as her dark waves fall to her waist. She usually keeps the front of her hair braided back, tucked away to make fighting or training easier. Her face is striking with unique features; piercing eyes, full lips, high cheekbones with full cheeks, and the most intense green eyes that make most people look away. Naturally beautiful, she will spread coal or black khol all over her eyes to seem intimidating. She is not known for her strength--she is small-framed and petite. Her speed is her strong suit, giving her a skinny frame. She has wide hips, a gift from her Assyrian genetics, but her bust is on the smaller side--think C cup at max.

As for her character, Rhaeya lives by her own free will and her own rules. She is a free spirit and is naturally guarded around people. Romance is a foreign concept to her; she has spent the majority of her life fighting for her survival and taking care of her younger sister, Alara. Despite her guarded exterior, she is kind and naturally a good person. She scoffs at misogyny and bullies and is not afraid to voice her opinion....though it has gotten her into a bit of trouble. Her desire lies in travel and exploration and she has a naturally curious and wondrous mind. Is she religious? Maybe--the idea of karma is deeply rooted in her psyche. Think of crab. Hard exterior, soft interior. The only person to see her soft side is her adopted father, now deceased, and her 14-year-old younger sister, Alara. After seeing both families of hers get slaughtered over valuables, she is very against materialism and will only keep what she needs and give the rest away.


Born to a danish warrior and the daughter of a nomadic chief, Rhaeya Azaraf was destined to live a life of nomadic nobility. For Assyrian people, this simply meant that she would never be sold to a harem or traded in exchange for goods and grains. Her mixed race made her a jewel in the eyes of her people, hoping one day to marry her off to a wealthy Dane or Saxon Lord to curate an alliance. The D’shijind clan were a fairly large and well-known group of Assyrian nomads that traveled the desert, drifting from oasis to oasis. They were known to curate skilled warriors, famous for their savage style of fighting and their long, thick black braids. They were also known for their cunning merchants who sold anything from poison to fine silks, and finally they were known for the beautiful women that had skin like honey and eyes as piercing as an assassin’s blade. It was no secret the the D’shijind were known to gift royal harems and in turn, were granted safety and goods. When Rhaeya was six years old, she had already begun her “training”. In her case, this meant learning how to be a lady—she was taught the languages of the North and common graces. During this time, the D’shijind numbers were slowly growing, as was their reputation and popularity. Their warriors grew lazy as conflict slowly faded from their existence. Until, of course, a coalition of Vikings invaded. They wanted nothing to do with their land—the desert was no home for a Viking. Instead, they raided the D’shijind clan for their valuables, killing and slaughtering the men and stealing the women and children. Rhaeya watched the massacre, hiding under her mother’s dead body until the screaming died down and the sun had risen. Most of the children were gone, aside from Rhaeya and her infant sister, Alara. She stayed put in her spot, too afraid to wander the desert alone. Luckily for Rhaeya and Alara, one of the Vikings, Kalf Ulfgurd, had returned to scavenge for more goods. Maybe it was her combination of tan skin and bright green eyes or the fact that she was alone and holding a tiny infant, both children crying in hunger and distress…whatever it was, Kalf took sympathy. He immediately took her and her sister with him to the North where she would become Rhaeya of the Sand. As a small girl, Rhaeya would often get picked on by other children—most of them calling her sand mouse or sand rat. Kalf eventually got sick of seeing her bruised and beaten and would teach her to fight, a skill she picked up on quickly. She may be smaller and weaker than most men (and some women with bigger builds) but she has always been the fastest, which has earned her the nickname “Viper”.  

Karma took its toll, and eventually one day, Kalf Ulfurd and his men were slaughtered in a similar fashion to the D’shijind clan. Fifteen-year-old Rhaeya had been out on a hunt when this occurred and when she returned, she found her nine year old sister hiding under the slain body of Ragnar, unharmed by the grace of gods.   Clearly, genetics showed signs of quick thinking.

This led Rhaeya and Alara to the road where they would travel from village to village. Rhaeya earned money through hunting and even offering up her sword. Though people doubted her craft at first, once they saw her skill with a sword or precision with an arrow and how blindingly fast she could be, she quickly became a top earning sellsword. Of course, she never stayed put in one area for long. After a few months of being in one area, Rhaeya gets cursed with the offer of marriage. Her fear of being forced into bed has her, along with her sister who took a liking to the art of medicine,  pulling a classic Irish goodbye and moving onto the next village. Nowadays, instead of selling her sword (which she will for the right price), Rhaeya enjoys teaching children how to do the wind dance—which is her signature fighting style. She tends to spend her time learning and reading manuscripts (Kalf made sure all of his female children learned to read in case he ever met a Saxon with an interest in wedding one of them) in order to learn as much as she can about the world. Her dream is to one day travel all over and explore the unknown, and it certainly helps that her sister and her tend to never stay put in one place for too long.

Name: Gunari (Gunnar) Ivaranoff
Sex: Cis-Male
Age: 25
DOB: 06 June

Culture: Norse
Ethnicity: 50% Norse | 50% Romani
Religion: Norse Pagan

Profession: Farmer | Warrior

Leader: Haakon Olofsson
Residence: Ravensthrope, Mercia
Originally From: Fornburg, Norway

Sexuality: Heterosexual
Spouse: Roeki Tovansdottir
Partner(s): His Wife
Concubine(s): None

Father: Steinar Harldsson, Viking (Deceased)
Mother: Giselle Ivanoff, Gyspsy (Deceased)
Siblings: Tamas Ivaranoff (Deceased/Brother)
Offspring: None Yet





Height: 6'2"
Weight: 195 lbs
Eye Color: Grey
Hair Color: Brown

Dominant Hand: Left
Distinguishing Features:


Scar(s): Plenty
Piercing(s): None
Tattoos: A Blood Eagle On His Back And Across His Shoulders
Tribal Markings Along His Sides And Ribs And His Forearms

Alignment: Neutral Good

Positive Traits: Compassionate | Contemplative | Green Thumb | Patient

Negative Traits: Blunt | Stoic | Stubborn



A man of average height and a decent build, Gunari is dark haired Viking with stone grey eyes. His face is a set of hard lines that are hardly ever broken save for his wife's presence and shenanigans. His hands are rough from farming, but he has a gentleness with animals and things he finds weaker than himself.

Gunari is a fearsome Viking, but not completely uncivilized. Unlike most Vikings, he doesn't have a quick temper and tends to think about his actions before undertaking them. He's not a "berserker" but has survived this long.

He is not a Viking that would be sent in for any negotiations as he someone how manages to be blunter and more tactless than most. His capacity for compassion and empathy not withstanding how his sentiments reach the ears of others.




WIP