@Maeriel One last, are there mythical forest creatures and spirits like dryads, fairies, etc? Just so that I can hammer down the set of details for Vignar's upbringing.
 
Yes, not many or easy to find and only in the deepest forests, away from civilization. However, this world is not a cute thing, neither are such creatures. They are like nature, unpredictable, beautiful and at times merciless, cruel and destructive. No fairy godmothers here :p
 
Alright then. Here are my characters. My lovely twins. Please feel free to comment, question, critique, and tell me if my lore is off. (I did not create either of these pictures.)

View attachment 1342

Name: Alfhild Thell the Bastard (name, excluding her "title" meaning Elf Battle Fortune, in a literal translation)
Age: 23
Race: Half-breed of Fenrir(Nord) and Lorrite
Class: Warrior (of Ice)

Description: An imposing 185 cm, Alfhild stands above many, but not all. Down her to the middle of her back would cascade golden straw colored hair, if she didn't braid it so often. Tied into one, or into many, Alfhild Thell tames the only tamable part of her, her hair. Her face would be fair, and perhaps some would still call it that, if it weren't for the grime of travel and the single scar that traces down her left temple and down her neck.

However, its most striking feature are her eyes. A bright, shining blue. Pale though, and the overall appearance of her eyes is most like ice. Cold and cutting and said to be able to stare down even a snarling bear with them alone.

The rest of her is strong muscle, tough as wires, entombed in gambeson, chain, and plate that is chipped and worn, but well cared for. Faded paint adorns the pauldrons and helm while a short, cape-like cloth of the same faded blue hangs from her waist. Her weapon, a bastard sword and a "gift" from one of her older half-brothers, is similarly worn along with a small collection of throwing axes.

Personality: Anyone who can remember the last time Alfhild Thell smiled, must have known her when she was a baby. Here eyes match her demeanor all too well, cold, distant, and ready to lash out against anyone who attempt to get friendly, flirt, rage, attack, or almost anything. She's the best warrior of the (known) Thell children, and she won't let anyone forget it.

Above all else, she's driven with the steadfastness of the seasons to complete her quest. Nothing will stop her from finding the sword, giving it to her father, and the claiming honor and renown for her own. Nothing! Or at least, she tries to tell herself that all three will happen.

Deep down, Alfhild is terrified. Terrified of never being truly recognized. Not just in the clan, but by anyone. Half-nord, half-human, both equally unloved by any side, she lashes out at everyone. Even those who could be allies in her endeavors. She feels that if she hits hard enough, strikes fast enough, she will no longer been known as the title she claimed to spite everyone, "the Bastard," but a woman and warrior of merit.

(Oh dear, where is her history? You'll have to keep reading I guess. I decided to put the Thells' histories together, with their own dividing sections)



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Name: Vidar Thell (meaning Warrior from the Forest Fortune, literal translation)
Age: 23
Race: Half-breed of Nord(Fenrir) and Lorrite
Class: Sorcerer/Shaman

Description: This first odd impression one would have of Vidar is of a man in need of a bath. Not that he smells bad. In fact, he smells oddly...well...fresh. It's as if the scent of a pine or effects of fresh rain in a wood or the perfume of a flower softly cling to Vidar. One would only notice it if they decided to lean in and sniff him, an event that he might not consider strange. No, what gives away that Vidar needs a bath is the dirt. It's on his face, his clothes, and likely in his boots as well.

After a well needed bath, one would mark Vidar's height to be 185 cm, that he has a wiry build that belies flexible, fast muscles with a short shock of raven hair, a lack of any beard, and a bright green eye. Yes, only one. His left eye has vistages of the right's brightness, but has gone milky under the set of parallel scars that drag down his face. In fact, the rest of his body is similarly marked and you could swear some are even bite marks. At which point, Vidar would blush and seek out his clothes, of which were worn, tattered, and faded that you may have burned them along with his pack, although not its contents, without the slightest twinge of guilt.

The only thing that Vidar has that might not belong in the fire is his staff. Hand carved Ash with strange swirling designs that, upon closer inspection, appear Nordic. He'd tell you that he has no idea of its connection of cultures and simply thought they looked good when he carved it. In a notch on the staff is a soft, blue flower with a green bulb that appears to be fading and dying but still clinging on.. The last, and perhaps strangest, thing to know about Vidar is that, every now and then, one could swear they hear hissing coming from him. Upon asking, he claims it's nothing, although its hard to agree with him as he refuses to meet anyone's gaze.

Personality: Inquisitive to a fault. He wants to find out about cultures, politics, fighting styles, agriculture techniques, and so much more. A shame he can't read. Most of all, he seeks to discover the meaning of his dreams. However, he guards those dreams dearly and tells only people he feels he can trust completely and, despite his incredible innocence, he has never met a person he trusted enough. His chief dream is of a woman with golden hair, seeking some strange, powerful sword. And he knows that he must seek out both her and the sword. Why? He wonders at that, but the dreams give no answer, only compulsion.

Now Vidar's innocence is a strange one for it pertains only to social norms. He rarely catches that he's being lied to, but he's hard to coerce. It's easy to con him, but hard to seduce him. His innocence has lead to his honesty. In no way could he tell a lie. That doesn't mean he can't deceive, mislead, and confuse. It means he doesn't do it with words, but with actions. Vidar has picked up some social norms, such as not simply stealing an apple if he's hungry, but these are a thin veil for his more primal nature.

At his heart, Vidar is wild, borderline feral. He acts first on instinct and considers his actions later. Ferociously territorial of anything he feels is valuable to him, including people. Never let him catch you in a lie or deceit. At best, it will take him days, or even weeks, to forgive you. At worst, he may outright attack you.

(Huzzah! History time. I'm going to try and keep it brief so that I can have some fun character development moments as they talk about their pasts in more detail when other characters draw out their stories and so that this post won't be too long. Goodness knows how long it is so far because I can't tell due to the size of the window. If any of you want a more detailed account, I will be happy to provide you with one.)

History:
Both:
Vidar and Alfhild Thell came into this world from a raid. An Orc raid with Nord slave-soldiers fell upon some of the north most Lorrite villages. Why arm the slave Nords? It was safe and secure enough with the number of orcs to Nords and, more importantly, it gave a few Nords a more gilded cage. They could go out, raid, fight, and enjoy the feeling of freedom and help keep the other Nords in line. Numbered among the raiders was one Lord Thell, leader of his clan, great warrior, and the most eager for blood. He and his three eldest sons lead the assault, slayed the village guard leader, and plundered the village's big-house. Trifle feats for any Nord, not even a warrior at that. However, while it did not bring any glory, it brought a prize. A prize that Thell felt worthy of him. The village chief's daughter, a young, raven-haired woman, tried to save her mother from the axe of Thell. A desperate swing of a cleaver, a catch of her arm, and Clan Lord Thell knew he had his prize. Holding her tight, Thell finished his butchering and carried her off with the other stolen goods and to-be thralls.

9 months to the day, the raven haired woman who Thell and never bothered to learn the name of, gave birth to twins in a large, multi-roomed hovel for the Nords upon Orcish land. Now, twins are considered special, if not even sacred, in Nordic culture for it is believed that, when twins are born, the maker had formed a soul too great for one body and had to split both the soul and body into two. Two-halves of a great and powerful soul. As is further Nordic custom, each child is blessed by a shaman in the pantheon of shrines. With shamans, for all intents and purposes, being exterminated or even wiped out, this tradition fell upon the father to do. It would be the only time Nords would even separate the twins as each ritual is for the individual child, and not the other.

Thell took the first-born, the golden haired babe with eyes like his own, lifted her high and, for the first and only time to date, smiled at her, naming her Alfhild, warrior elf, for her looks and his dreams. Taking her and his entourage out, the thrall-mother was alone for the first time since her enslavement. Seized with sudden desperation and a strange surge of strength, she carried her other child into the storm.

The snow fell so thick and fast that the Orcish watchers did not see her leave the collection of hovels, did not see her leave the small, unwalled town, did not see her stumble into the forest at its border. After all, what would drive someone out into the blizzard, save for madness?

The blessing proceeded normally, but when Thell returned for his son, he found the room empty. Mother and child gone. From that moment onward, he regarded Alfhild with disdain for she was not only his bastard half-breed, but only half of what she should be.

The mother plunged onward, weakening in the snow and forest. Her baby was silent, asleep, and at peace, but woke with a startling cry. The free thrall desperately tried to hush the boy, and she missed the silent approach of wolves until the fist bite sank into her side. Flailing, dying, she lost her life and her hold upon the baby. The pack then advanced upon the child but, perhaps in chance, perhaps it was the spirits, but instead of feasting upon the boy, they claimed him as their own.

Alfhild: Half-breed of Lord Thell, Alfhild lead a troubled childhood. She tried to smile, to bear it as best she could, but soon realized that smiles would not win her father's affection. So she turned to anger, fighting her siblings and the other Nord children. It earned her bruises, it earned her broken bones, it earned her lashes from the Orc handler for hurting the master's slaves, but it did not earn her her father's attention, let alone his affection.

Lord Thell lead a rebellion against the orcs there, killing them all. Alfhild herself would kill the master's youngest son when she was ten. The Nords then left the ruins of the town, knowing the orcs would come. Weeks later, Thell would base his operations in one of the northern mountain ranges, striking brutally at the orcs where he could. All the while, Alfhild would train doggedly, raid dangerously, and fight with frozen efficiency to attempt to earn her fathers favor. Long ago had the fire of her anger burned out and had been replaced with icy coldness and frigidity to rival the snow-capped peaks. But nothing she did would turn his attention to her.

Other Clan Lords would rebel and had already rebelled, with varying degrees of success. Their greatest inhibition is the lack of unity. None could agree who aught to be the leader, the chief of the Clans. So Thell tasked his children with a mission, one that could unite the clans, to find the greatsword Dreyri, the sword of blood. Whoever wields that, the sword of the Clan Lord who brought all the Nords to this land, would be able to reunite the Clan Lords and wage war upon the Orcs. So Alfhild set out. She has turned her gaze southward where she believes the sword may have been lost there or that any shaman who would be most likely to survive the purge would have fled south. With ice and steel, she comes.

Vidar: Vidar grew well with wolves. As strange as that might be to say. Despite being slower, he was more ingenious than the pack could be. While they taught him to hunt, the hidden trails of the woods, and the simple ferocity of beast, it was his dreams that taught him how to think. His dreams brought him words, speech, songs of lands that Vidar couldn't even imagine. They would also swarm his shadows, strange figures that flit across his mind, none distinct. But something tells him, almost a voice in his dreams, that he will be able to see them clearly one day. And, upon his tenth birthday, it gave him his name. Vidar Thell. Fortunate Warrior of the Forest.

From a young age, Vidar knew about his magic. Since he couldn't remember another human, he always assumed that it was his magic that made him appear so different from his wolf family and he would often try to shift back, but always failed. That didn't stop him from honing his talent in other ways. Guided by his own inquisitive nature and vague guidings of his dreams, Vidar has developed a strange hybrid of human magic and Nordic shamanism. Spiritual would be its best term perhaps. This magic, however, would call the attention of the strange mythical creatures found only in the remote places of the world.

It was the dryad who found him. Perhaps it was fortunate that it was only a single dryad. She came upon him as he was hunting. Her interest in his power, his in seeing his first humanoid shape lead to battle of wills, magic, and natural ferocity. One that ended in a stale-mate, and then, a friendship. Together, they made a deal, to exchange part of their power, their knowledge. She gave Vidar a flower from herself, he gave her the vision from his left eye. She taught him how to hide his magic, to camouflage it. He taught her how to tap into her ancestral roots. Although, neither truly knew what the other would be doing with the results of the trade, nor the distant uses both would have.

It was then that Vidar decided to leave his wolf family. Or rather, he was guided to. With his dreams growing more distinct, Vidar learned of humanity to the far south through his nature friend. He traveled months and, just before he turned 23, he arrived in Lorr.
 
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Boom. It's out. It's general. I wanted at least thrice the detail, but I also want to save fun description for the RP. Please do read, comment, and let's figure out how to add them in. Vidar, at least, should be simple enough. Alfhild can be added in as time passes.
 
Love your sheet! I think the others should be of the same mind :p

Only one tiny comment: Lorrite is the term for a human from Lorr, and Lorr is the name of the kingdom Vidar just reached then ;)

Join our talks on getting everyone together, and hopefully, @MJK2431 will join us soon too :)
 
So would it be possible for me to make a character that was both a Mage Hunter and a sorcerer, or would they not accept that? I'm thinking like the abused becomes the abuser for others, that sort of trope. Maybe someone who was forced to register their powers and resents people who weren't. I can't imagine they would be allowed to actually guard the Tower or anything, but maybe they're out in the field helping bring people in.

Another thing I'm noticing is that your party kinda lacks a heavy hitter. Everyone's sorta playing the underdog, and while that's not a bad role, you're gonna need someone who can really land a hit when you tangle with the enemy. Maybe someone who was registered as a Mage but hates the laws, so they've been secretly honing their power further. Could be someone older than your characters, someone who's had more experience and could help train them so they can kick butt faster.

Just some thoughts. I'm coming in a bit late, it seems, so I'm willing to be flexible for whatever you need in the story.
 
Hey Axis,

I think we already mentioned Mages being used by Mage Hunters as a "fight fire with fire" principle and Mae also noted they serve in the military under heavy regulation. So i think there's no problem with the concept there.

*If Stavros and Illian turn to the other side*
I had designed Stavros to be a bit more of a heavy hitter for the same reasons you mentioned. 37year old Lord Inquisitor/Knight which was enhanced through Magical experimentation was not my idea of a low powered character ^^ He has his flaws mind you and right now you'll have to take my word for it but I'm not into powerplaying (Hopes Maer will vouch for that*)

As for an old power hungry Mage I can only speak for my characters, that will create certain conflict, which is not saying you shouldn't do it and I won't say how or if it wouldn't be interesting but yeah, at least one of my characters will have problems. But then again right now I'm playing Antagonist so yeah :D

My two cents
 
Well, yeah, that's fair, your characters can get some work done. Should have been more specific, it seems right now the only heavy hitters are on the Mage Hunters' side. The purpose of that suggestion wasn't powerplaying, the idea was that everyone else's characters could pick up a bit to defend themselves. Sorry if I didn't make that clear.

If there's a possibility your characters would turn, though, I don't mind playing the antagonist straight through. Or I could make an antagonist and we could see where it goes, if the plot leads them to flip sides or not.
 
I have no issues with your idea :) Isaac and Ara are about to run into mage hunters that were just going to be npcs but happy for your character to jump in instead. I think you and @Scalerender will just need to discuss how your characters fit in with each other.

If you'd like to write up a character sheet as well we can start getting you in.
 
Okay, cool, I'll start working on a character sheet. As for the run-in coming up, I guess it depends on how soon you meant. Don't wait for me or anything. You can always start the scene with NPCs and my character could ride in halfway through or I could take over an NPC mid-scene. How many Mage Hunters were you planning on running into, anyway?
 
@Axis Hey there! Happy you're interested in joining us.

What Scalerender said is true, Mages are used by the Mage Hunters and Lorr Military, but heavily supervised, which means your character would never be alone. Also, no unregistered mage has it easy really, which is one of the main points of the campaign, the registered ones are actually the lucky ones, even if kept in check. Registered mages fall in two categories, mainly: the mostly harmless to be of any consequence, more capable of minor little tricks than anything dangerous, or the ones who are either agents of the crown or agents of the Mage Hunters, and thus, somewhat regulated and to be turned into such, they'd have to find you reliable to be trusted with dangerous powers, regardless of the escort kept on you.

We've discussed before, but the magic the characters in the game possess are somewhat deviant, as in, they are not the norm. Which is the reason for a few plot elements so far. So tutoring them will be on very loose lines and we had kinda thought Val could get in that role because of her lifelong training and the fact her magic, like ours, is unusual. Nothing stops your character from being able to add something to it, however.

Also, besides the MHs, Elise knows well how to use her powers and is a competent swordswoman with roguish skills, so she is far from harmless. The Dorn duo and Val are also not harmless at all. But you are right, none of us is very powerful and that was intended, to keep some strife and challenge to their lives.

So, as long as you can work something out with having a Mage Hunter escort, perhaps Scalerender could help there as he sorta is handling the Mage Hunters as a whole, you can make a character on those lines, yes. Just remember what was mentioned indeed, we never meant for anyone to be super powerful and we're just interested in keeping everyone relevant and having fun. A niche for all of us. :)

In case you have questions creating your character, we're happy to help you with them.
 
I think we're happy for some character bonding at the moment but we were planning for Isaac to be taken away and for Ara to be left because they have some alternate reason for releasing her.
@inkdragon , did you have any details in mind?
 
Not particularly. How many MHs do you think would be sent out on a trip like this- two, three? I'd err on the side of higher, if they're bringing a mage with them, cause like Mae said, they'd want to keep an eye on your character, Axis. AJ and I can still help with the NPCs, if that's overwhelming. And yeah, we have a bit before we run into them, don't worry. Welcome aboard! :)
 
@MJK2431

Naturally! Mae had mentioned to me that half-elves are quite rare, not the usual D&D garden variation race, litle is known of their peculiarities and very often there are no children from elven/human union.
 
So follows an excerpt of the original script of Nords: A Culture of Clans and Faith, not Barbarians by Tristan Gran, as saved by Kad


Chapter 3: Nordic Religion: Sehnsucht

I will again preface this chapter with a few notes as to how my life and research is going with the Nords. Their culture and rituals continue to astound, almost as much as their constant need for warfare. If they were not so allowing to me and many of those who they claim as thralls, a subject I will address in later chapters, I would think them as brutal as Orcs. Of course, Orcs themselves may well be just as misunderstood as our Nordic brethren, as I’m sure that we share some sort of common ancestry, despite our physical and temperamental differences.

The Nords continue to do nightly searches of my one-room home. It is regrettable that they still do not trust me, despite the months I’ve been with them. However, I am more than amicable with them and do not resist as it seems to help me remain in their good graces. I suppose they must still think me a spy, but as I continue to pose no threat and have little, well, muscle or magic, they deem me no threat. Beyond the few that tolerate my questions, many of the Nords ignore me. Once I found this to be rather off-putting, but now I’ve come to realize that the Nords think I haven’t done anything of note to them. Perhaps, if this book has the intended effect with my people back in Lorr, then I will be of note. Until then, I write and help as I can.

Introduction:

Nords are quite the spiritual people, more so than even the Elves, I think. This is due, I believe, to a relative lack of the true industry that is seen in our Human settlements, but Nordic economy will be for another chapter. They rely upon powerful shamans to orally pass down traditions and teachings, and have very little written works. These shamans have an almost magical quality to them as they claim to commune with the Nords ancestors, Gods, and even nature spirits, but don’t seem to have the true spark of what we Humans, Elves, Dwarves, and even Orcs would call magic. However, there is no denying the power of listening to a Nordic ritual with the shaman, or shamans, chanting in their medicine yurt with the clan adding its own voice to the chanting. I say listen, because the Nords have yet to allow me to spectate a ritual and I dare not risk their ire by trying to peek in. I hope I may get a chance to see one, before I go, but I must write the chapter first.

The religion itself is called Sehnsucht. The closest meaning I can determine is the “pursuit of heaven” or “search of home or belonging.” It seems that Nords, themselves, feel a detachment to this world and see it as a temporary existence before moving beyond to their true home. Perhaps it would be more accurate that the Nords consider this life to be a proving ground for their version, or rather versions, of heaven. More on that later.

Most of what I impart was supplied to me by a shaman named Kad, who surprised me by approaching me and claiming that he had been called to help me with this chapter. Some other pieces were supplied to me by other Nords who gave me snippets.

Part 1: The Eras of the World

To the Nords, the world is not divided up into eras that begin and end with great events of the world, such as the overthrow of the dark Dwarven King Balgor that marked the beginning of the 2nd Age. Instead, they mark the ages with the transformations of the world itself. Allow me to explain. To the Nords, the great events of the ages would be merely the blossoming of a flower on a tree. To them, an age, or era, would be the initial planting of the seed, then when it first broke the soil, and, finally, when it became a tree. The great events of our ages add color to their era, but nothing more. This metaphor is important to grasp because Nords deal with time upon such a supernatural scale.

Ages Lost: It begins with, not the planting of the seed that would become the tree of our era, but the soil in which it was planted in. This era is known as the Ages Lost. Here, the God-king Caderyn, along with a few survivors of his race retreated to our world after losing a great battle with the greater Daemons and Devils of their version of Hell. Our world was, at the time, a barren and desolate wasteland. The Gods and Goddesses traversed up and down it, seeking each other in grief and loss. When they finally found each other, they mourned for five centuries before Caderyn united them, and set them to work upon their counter attack. They needed an army to reclaim their ancient homeland and knew that the land must be prepared to train and teach a suitable force of warriors. Together, they wrought life upon the world. How they did this has never been fully agreed on. Kad informed me that some shamans declare that Caderyn had his people sprinkle blood across the land and life naturally sprung from it. Others say that each added something they had taken from their true ancestral homeland and placed it upon the land. Water from a jug became the oceans, a seed from a tree became the forests, sand from a pouch became mountains. Kad himself is a believer that a blend of both is true.

Regardless, all shamans agree that intelligent species, like the Nords, Elves, Humans, Orcs, and Dwarves, were created after the land had been established, with spirit-like creatures following them.

They began with Humans. They were clever, resourceful, and gifted with powerful, but almost twisted, magic. They were created from the claw of a Daemon and the sand of the seashore. The Gods and Goddesses looked upon them and thought them intelligent, but Caderyn put his foot down and demanded warriors stockier, stronger, and more durable. So they let the humans out into the world and prepared their next creation.
The Dwarves were then made. Hardy, tough, and able to craft great weapons and enchantments to rival the Forgotten Forges. They were created from boulders on the mountains and the feet of a Daemon. The Gods and Goddesses looked upon them and thought them resilient, but Caderyn put his foot down and demanded warriors more graceful, agile, and harmonious with their land. So they let the dwarves into the world and prepared their next creation.

Next they made the Elves. Quick, light, and close enough to the land that they were able to draw up magic from the elements for battle. They were created from the ear of a Daemon and the trunk of a willow. The Gods and Goddesses looked upon them and thought them fair, but Caderyn put his foot down and exclaimed that these warriors had lost all that the dwarves were given and demanded warriors ferocious and terrifying to behold. So they let the elves out into the world and prepared their next creation.

After the Elves, came the Orcs. Brutal, ferocious, and with fell magic that seemingly harkened back to the Daemons themselves. They were created from the dirt of the world and the skin of a Daemon. The Gods and Goddesses looked upon them and thought then powerful, but Caderyn put his foot down and exclaimed that each race had some necessary qualities, but none truly held all the needed ones to fight the Daemons.

For a brief moment, the Gods and Goddesses pondered how to satisfy Caderyn. Then Maedoc, who is only ever mentioned here, laughed and came up with his answer. He created a creature that took the agility of the Elves, ferocity of the Orcs, cleverness of the Humans, and the resilience of the Dwarves and created the Nords. Born from the heart of a Daemon and the ocean and ice of the far north, the Nords were battle ready upon their creation. Caderyn looked upon them and laughed, exclaiming that “here is a warrior! A warrior powerful enough that he may even turn upon us with the Daemon in his heart! Such a warrior can only be named one thing, Fenrir! Wolf warriors! Ha!” So he stripped them of magic and was pleased. He sent them out into the world to become his new army. Thus, the sapperling of the world has sprung.

Now, you may have noticed that every race has some Daemon in them. I asked Kad and he said that the Gods and Goddesses needed warriors that understood how their enemy fought, in order to beat them. However, they did not want to risk them turning upon them in the heat of battle. This world is then a proven ground of loyalty, honor, and glory. Those who serve well in life are then rewarded in death with a place in Caderyn’s army and one of the heavens, while those who fail to do so are cast down to the Daemons and Devils. To be with their own kind, so to speak.

The spirits themselves are hardly touched upon in this era. All that it is said is that the were born from the sheer love of the Gods and Goddesses had for this world that, these beings were born from it. Nyiads, Dryiads, and fey-like creatures. However, it is said that dragons are monsters that the Daemons send into the world to torment the Nords and their brethren races. Slaying one is considered one of the highest achievements a Nord can make, and many legends center around these mythical beasts.

The Growing Years: The second era of the world is barely touched upon in traditional lore, beyond a few scant myths that are so vague that they do not even make much sense to the shamans. It is, however, agreed that they were chaotic. Nords lacked direction, purpose, guidance. Like a sapperling bowing in the wind, they scattered everywhere and did anything they pleased. Caderyn, worried that his new warriors would tear apart this world that had been created, took council with his fellow deities. It was his wife, Veleda, who came up with the shamans. Nords touched with the ability to see, through ritual and dreams, the will of the deities and would be able to guide the Nords.

The Gods and Goddesses then choose children while they are still in their mothers to be shamans. A word of caution is given to all shamans, however. Daemons will also try to corrupt and mislead shamans so that they will guide the Nords to doom. Thus, the tree has grown great and strong.

Years of Proving: The third and final age of this world. Naturally, it is the current and thought to be the longest as well. During this time are the great heroes of Nordic legends. All Nords focus upon proving themselves in some way, with the most common way being warfare. However, there are also renowned smiths, sailors, and even farmers. Shamans earn their way into Caderyn’s army through guiding the people. Considering the number of legends Kad has regaled me with, I will be copying many of them down in a different chapter.

Ragnarok: The end of the world. Kad explained to me that Daemons will break free from their realm and wage war upon this world and the heavens, causing this world’s destruction while Caderyn leads his host in the defense of the heavens and then, if the war goes well, counter-assaults the Ancient Realm where the Daemons lie. What happens after Ragnarok is something that Kad never told me and wouldn’t answer if I asked. I am under the impression that not even they know.

Part 2: The Pantheon of Gods and Goddesses


Nords have at least seventeen beings that could be called Gods and Goddesses. I say that because not all Nords agree as to which beings are deities in the first place. However, it is of common belief that their are many Gods and Goddesses in heaven as many had children and some may have not made themselves known yet to Nordic shamans. This can be quite complicated as, for example, a shaman may come forward claiming that they received a dream from a God or Goddess that was previously unknown, while another may come forward saying that they themselves had conducted a ritual that showed that a deceiver had caused false dreams for many shamans the previous night. Thus, there is continuous ongoing debate as to who ought to be considered divine, and who not. Kad, however, has listed to me the ones that are universally agreed to be Gods and Goddesses.

Caderyn: Father and warrior king of the Gods and Goddesses. Depicted as a bearded warrior with golden hair, storm-grey eyes, and garbed for war. He was born before the Ages Lost and one of the few survivors of the Ancient War between them and the Daemons and Devils. He was the one who united the remaining deities and organized them to prepare for their counter-assault. His natural leadership and refusal to give up despite the loss of their home earned Caderyn the crown. Caderyn married Veleda, the fairest and wisest of the deities and sired at least five children from her and a scattering of others from powerful beings or spirits. At the end of time, when the Daemons fully break free from their realm and assault Caderyn and his host in an attempt to stop him from building a greater army. He sits upon the Golden Throne in Caislean na Sciathain, Castle of Wings, where he plans his revenge and even leads some raids against the Daemons. Patron of warriors and leaders. Symbol is of a great-sword.

Veleda: Queen of Wisdom and mother of the Gods and Goddesses. Her image is that of a woman in a long, green dress, green as a wooded glen, with rich, red hair that would trail upon the ground, were it not for her attendants that prevent it from doing so. Born also before the Ages Lost, she was the first to follow Caderyn and is always his constant support and guide. Eternally faithful, she will bear no children save his own. Inventor of the shamans, she seeks to guide all all races, not just the Nords, to the heavens and into Caderyn’s mighty host. Her house is also Caislean na Sciathain, but she also walks the forests of Tir na nOg, yes it is spelled like that, Kad was very specific, which is translated to the Land of Youth. She is patron to shamans and wayward wanderers who search for meaning. Symbol is of a pine tree.

Maedoc: Beyond his part in creating the Nords, and that Maedoc is male, nothing is known about him.

Hildr and Hjorprimul: Twin brother and sister and firstborn of Caderyn. Each are depicted as crimson haired warriors who grimly and eagerly lead the unending raids against the Daemons in an effort to hamper and scout them before Ragnarok. Patrons of sailors and questers. Symbol is a ship with crossed axes in front of it.

Smiorgorn: Third child and son of Caderyn and Veleda. He is the first smith who taught the races his craft. He resides in the Ashen Plane, in the heart of a volcano where any smith who wishes to enter under his teachings and make weapons for Caderyn’s army must brave this final test in the afterlife and bring with him his, or her, greatest work in life to impress him with. If Smiorgorn accepts, he will teach techniques and skills long forgotten and command the soul to help prepare for Ragnorok. His symbol is, and Kad told me not to be shocked by this, is of a hammer and anvil. Patron of all craftsmen and those who show dedication to their trade, whatever it may be. Smiorgorn has slightly vague patronage.

Driidra na Skald: Fourth child and daughter of the king and queen. Driidra na Skald composes songs, writes epics, and paints heroism. She sings for the warriors at Caislean na Sciathain of their glorious battles in life and against the Daemons. She doesn’t take students directly, but lets any seeks her out to watch her as she works or sings. Naturally, she is a patron of the arts and her symbol is of a shaped hand that looks like it is holding a pen or brush, or perhaps uplifted as some singers do when in song.

Rocstoll the Blind: Judgement incarnate and the last son of Caderyn and Veleda. Rocstoll sits next to the Baisteach Falls. These falls plummet straight down through a hole in the realm into Hell, and no Daemon can climb its slick cliff-face. Above it are the heavens, and a plane of crags and rocks lie in between with the falls falling through a hole in the ground. There Rocstoll the Blind sits with the only dragon who is friendly to the Gods and Goddesses, Garnack. Rocstoll judges all the souls of the dead and, if found worthy, has Garnack carry them up the walls. But if found unworthy, Garnack chomps down upon the soul and spits them down the falls and into Hell. Anyone, who does not want to risk his judgement, can request that they attempt to climb Baisteach Falls and allow the waters to purify them. However, the Nords only tell of one successful climb. Rocstoll the Blind is the patron of justice and duty. His symbol is that of a dragon’s eye.

Regrettably, the other deities are in debate as to whether or not they actually are Gods and Goddesses. As such, I will not include them in this chapter as I want to the parts of Nordic faith that are fully agreed upon. However, I can say that there is at least one trickster god, five fertility gods, two of the harvest, three of nature, one of the ocean, one of the sky, and many more that fill various functions in Nordic society.

Part 3: Realms

This will be my last part upon Sehnsucht, but before I delve into them, Kad specifically asked me to add this. He said that it is possible for any race to enter the heavens, through the same trials that any Nord would have to accomplish. He would often go out of his way to talk about legends that included the heroism of the other races. At first, I thought he was humoring my interest in the inter-relations between Nords, Humans, Elves, Dwarves, and Orcs, but now I’m not entirely sure. While this may be a personal note and usually reserved for my prefaces, I found it odd that he wanted this included. Often enough, Nords ignore the other races when they’re not raiding them. But he seemed so earnest and almost, in a way, desperate that this point is carried across. Perhaps he believes that the other faiths are merely leading the races other than Nords astray, or into peril. Perhaps he worries that Caderyn’s army will not be large enough for Ragnarok without the other races. Regardless, I have done as he asked and will now cease with my personal musings.

The Heavens: There are three places in the heavens, although not all may not be considered pleasant.

Caislean na Sciathain: Castle of Wings and seat of King Caderyn. Here is the ever expanding and growing garrison quarters for his army. In the hall of feasting, the warriors regale each other with tales of battle and glory. The head table is reserved for the Gods and Goddesses and any warrior who Caderyn himself calls to eat with him for a night. The fortress is of epic proportions with interlaced gardens, courtyards, smithies, and training grounds. It is always growing to accommodate new warriors with the surrounding landscape being endless fields, forests, and mountains with a mighty port attached to the back of the castle itself to house all the vessels that go and raid the realm of the Daemons, Hell. Any warrior who falls in battle will be reborn again in the castle.

Tir na nOg: The realm of eternal youth. It is said that one could reach it by walking from the castle, but where exactly it lies in relation to it is unknown. Why it is known as such is a mystery to me as no soul ages while in the heavens. However, it is a mountainous forest where the wild creatures and fey flourish strongly. Shamans, maidens, and warriors who died young are often taken here by Veleda. Any warrior who wishes a bride among these maidens must first brave the forest and its wardens.

Ashen Plane: Known by no other name, the Ashen Plan holds the great forges of the heavens where the smiths toil away, preparing great weapons and engines of war for Ragnarok. Here resides Smiorgorn, who leads the effort and teaches many powerful blacksmiths.

The Realm in Between: There is one land between the heavens and Hell, known only by the Realm in Between. Rocstoll the Blind and Garnack sit here, with their backs to the cliff that leads to heaven and the Baisteach Falls that no Daemon can climb and judgment is placed upon the souls of the dead. It is a desolate land of rocky crags where one could, if too terrified of judgement or attempting the falls, reside until Ragnarok.

Hell: Little is known about the realm of the Daemons beyond that it is where the Daemons marshal their army to destroy the remaining Gods and Goddesses. All that is known is that steam ever rises from the single hole that the Baisteach Falls plummet through.

Ancestral Lands: Kad and no Nord ever explained this to me and what I know is only what I have interpreted, which is very little. All I know is that they exist and was once the home of the Gods and Goddesses and that the Daemons ransacked or destroyed or now occupy it and no God nor Goddess will return there, save, perhaps, after Ragnarok.

Conclusion: I now conclude this chapter on Nordic religion, Sehnsucht, but do not mistake this for everything. I have yet to touch upon the few rituals Kad has explained to me, nor many of the legends and how the ancestors act as guiding beacons for the Nords. But it is getting late, and my candle is now melted so much that I must find a replacement tomorrow. And each would make a mighty chapter in its own right. Heh, “mighty,” the Fenrir must be starting to rub off on me.
 
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