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| Seraphiella Geirskögul; Three DAYS! XD | |
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| Topic Started: Nov 20 2009, 03:14 PM (42 Views) | |
| Skogul | Nov 20 2009, 03:14 PM Post #1 |
Spear-Shaker
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General Full Name: Seraphiella Geirskögul Nicknames: Ella, Skogul Class:Paladin Profession: Courier/Messenger/Harbinger Gender: Female Race: Valkyrie Alignment: Originally, Lawful Neutral. Disaffected: Chaotic Neutral leanings. Demeanour:Graceful, poised, aloof, proud. (She is not a god, though she sometimes acts as if she thinks she is). Weapon/Magic of Choice:A thick-shafted spear, seven feet long, flint-tipped, leather-wrapped, adorned with two crows’ feathers and a string of wolves’ teeth, charmed to fly true. (This item hasn’t been “purchased” yet). (When purchased) she can transform into a crow (Polymorph). (If it’s allowed) The ability to see the worth of a man’s soul. (Until then, I’m going to say the trauma of defection has inhibited these abilities :P) Appearance Eyes: Silver-grey, somewhat tired and ancient Hair: Blond (Honeyed flax), straight and (when free) falling below her waist. Age: About three hundred years old. Years are reckoned differently in Valhalla, and among the Worthy Slain. Ella appears about 19 human years, and vacillates between 19 and 90 in personality and demeanor. Birthmarks or Scars: Scar from earlobe to chin on left side: covered by hair and masked by jaw line, usually. Predominant Feature: Unusual height Build: Lithe, slender, solid. She stands nearly six feet tall and claims only 135 pounds, all muscle. Skin Quality: Creamy pale, unblemished General Appearance:  Personality Influences: The slaughter of her village when she was 18, being adopted into the Valr Kjosa, the memory of mortality and (seemingly) being turned away from her “sisters” for her inability to put it behind her. A century of sorting through the wreckage of battlefields to choose the Worthy from the dead and dying had an impact as well. Likes: Privately, she’s a very tactile person, having missed so much from her mortality for so long. Simple pleasures, like bathing in a stream, riding horseback, wind on her face, sunshine on her back, the smell of wood smoke and pipe tobacco… Dislikes:Being controlled or manipulated. She dislikes the need to sell her services, as well, but she does what she has to, to survive. She dislikes the whole idea of predestination, as well, and bullies. Goals: Mainly, just to live, to take each day as if it’s her first. Some small part of her seeks her dead lover, irrational as that sounds, especially in light of her feelings on predestination. Along the way, she will champion the weak and generally spite the gods. Strengths: She is physically stronger than the average man: she could hold her own against a seasoned warrior, in simple feats of strength. Her main strengths of character are integrity (according to her own, strict definition), determination and humanity. Skills:She is very good with animals and has a strong affinity to horses, wolves and carrion birds (crows). She can move quickly and stealthily, avoiding most pursuit or slipping in and out to courier packages and missives. Habits: She smokes a pipe and indulges in ale, tending to be more masculine and lest withdrawn when she does. She prefers making camp in the woods when on the trail to sleeping in an inn, though she will sleep indoors. Mannerisms: if her hair is down, she often pulls it up out of her eyes—not a nervous motion, but thoughtful, though she does it sometimes when she’s irritated as well. Otherwise, she rubs her scar with the tip of her finger when she’s concentrating, working out a problem, or deep in thought. Weaknesses or Flaws: Pride, stubbornness, disregard for law. The assumption that she has no human passions left, even though human experience is what she craves. The denial that she craves humanity. She also tends to act spontaneously, especially when threatened (which might cause her own vulnerability, or threaten an innocent). She is now also mortal . General Personality: Family Father: Helgi Friedrsson Mother: Svan Eriksdottr Siblings: (Ella was an only child) (Skogul has 15 “sisters”: Hrist, Mist, Skeggjöld, Hildr, Þrúðr, Hlökk, Herfjötur, Göll, Geirahöð, Randgríð, Ráðgríð, Reginleif, Skuld, Gunnr, Göndul Lover: Elgir (deceased) Other Family: None Companions or Pets: None Background General History: Skogul was once a mortal maiden, the daughter of a Chieftain. When she was born, her parents named her Sachiel for her angelic appearance. They had high hopes for her marital prospects and she was spoiled recklessly. She grew into a soft, lovely, feminine young woman. Though she knew her parents expected her to marry well, she had very little control over whom she fell in love with. By her 17th birthday, she knew she wished to marry Elgir, the blacksmith’s apprentice, but they both knew it was doomed: her parents would not consent, as he was an orphan, with no bride-price. Though his Master could afford to pay it, they knew he would not. They kept their love secret, savoring each stolen moment, always aware that any day her father might make an alliance with a neighboring Chieftain or with the King himself, and her acquiescence would be the price for peace. The older she grew, the more likely this became, and each day the lovers prepared to say goodbye tomorrow… For his part, Helgi loved his daughter and was reluctant to sell her into marriage. Though his wife nagged him daily, reminding him that Ella would soon be too old to be of value, he procrastinated. In his eyes, she was the picture of innocence: beautiful, talented with song, verse and loom. To him, she was still a little girl, and he would miss her laughter when she was gone… Had he known about the Blacksmith’s apprentice, he might have given his blessings: he did not relish the day when he would no longer hear his daughter’s voice, and marrying her within the village would have been almost a relief—though he would have listened to his wife’s daily rantings about wasting assets… When Outlanders attacked her village, all her prospects—real and imagined—were destroyed. Ella fought viciously, despite never having been trained to weapons. She managed to stand and fight longer than most of her village. She was young and pretty. The Outlanders disregarded her as a threat at first, but after she killed their leader and attacked his lieutenant, they turned on her brutally. It took three warriors to hold her until the battle was over. They made her watch as they finished the survivors, slitting their throats or piercing their hearts depending on the valor they showed in battle, then they turned their attention to Ella. When the Valr Kjosa found her, she was near death, broken and bleeding. The raiders had slit her throat, which was a clear mark of her valor: a clean death was reserved only for those who fought well. Fortunately—or unfortunately—it had been a rush-job, and the severing of her arteries was incomplete: she lived after the raiders left. She watched with horror—paralyzed by her wounds, eyes staring, unable to close them or look away—as the Valkyrie walked among the dead, directing the wolves to feed on the slain, carrion crows circling above, their cries when they discovered worthy dead piercing the mist of carnage. When they found her, there was much startlement but also much rejoicing. She was touched by each of the maidens until her injuries were healed. In that hour, Ella ceased to exist and Geirskögul was born… For nearly a century, she served as Alrun in Valhalla, Odin’s serving girl, catering to the whims of the worthy fallen, learning humility, modesty and respect. At the same time, she trained diligently to axe, sword and spear… not to mention shield. In the end, Valkyries rarely had use for such skills—only if they were chosen as guardians for special warriors or kings, and Geirskögul was never chosen for this duty. Instead, she was named to the ranks of those very maidens who had saved her—the Valr Kjosa, the elite among Valkyrie, the ones entrusted to fill the ranks of Valhalla with honest souls and fierce warriors, eventually to support Odin during Ragnarok. As her body grew lean and hardened as a warrior, her heart kept pace, hardening against the plight of mere mortals, eyes focused on the prize, learning to accept that the circle of life had no meaning, except to fill the ranks of the Worthy. They say pride cometh before the fall. Ella, Geirskögul—in both her incarnations—was a rightfully prideful woman. As a human, she had been raised to believe that she was far fairer even than the King’s daughters, and that she might one day enjoy status as a King’s wife, because men valued beauty above all else. As a Valkyrie, she bought into the rationality of war and choosing, as it further supported her belief that she was special, a superior creature, above the average class of mortals. She was chosen and few women were chosen for Valhalla. Far fewer were chosen for the ranks of the Valkyrie. Then she found Elgir amongst the carnage of battle. She had assumed he died when she did. The birth of Geirskögul had taken Ella so completely that she never stopped to survey the bodies of the slain of her own village. She took for granted that every man, woman and child had fought and died that day… She forgot that she’d promised to meet Elgir that morning in the woods, away from the village, away from death… By the time he realized she wasn’t coming and made his way back to the village, there was nothing left to fight. He had watched in horror as they slit her throat, then been prevented from going to her by the Valkyrie surrounding her… It couldn’t be Elgir, of course: he would be over two hundred years old, aged beyond recognition by the century/year Geirskögul spent in Valhalla, training, and another century spent in the merciless pursuit of her duty. Even if he still lived, she would not have known him, but the resemblance was uncanny. The boy had fought valiantly. He was Worthy. She refused to take him. Seeing her reluctance, her sisters descended, taking the choice from her hands. They knew: it had happened to all of them at some point. But Odin’s design was more important than sentimental nostalgia. Perhaps they felt that the demotion to Alrun was necessary. Perhaps they felt that her assignment to the boy was a kindness. The boy was not Elgir. Elgir had not been chosen for Valhalla… Perhaps they thought that, given the chance to realize this, Geirskögul would come to her senses, realize that anything that linked her to mortality was long since dust, and that she belonged with them completely… Instead, she took it personally. Once she ascertained for herself that the boy was a stranger to her, she grew sullen at the perceived rebuke. On one hand, she was ashamed that her sisters felt she could no longer carry out her duties as a Valr Kjosa. On the other hand, the boy’s resemblance to her dead lover made her yearn for another chance… If this boy was so similar, was there another, a perfect copy, somewhere…? Or (her mind whispered) perhaps Elgir himself was not numbered in Valhalla because he’d returned… It was not unknown for worthy mortals to be reincarnated, sent back. Asking questions about loved ones and mortals was strictly discouraged, among the ranks of the Valr Kjosa. To think too long on what had been lost interfered with their ability to perform their duties. Though the demotion to Alrun was intended to be temporary, Geirskögul was never readmitted to their ranks. She had become a liability… Perhaps they thought it was a kindness to release her to the mortal realm. Geirskögul saw it as banishment. She was sent as a messenger—a harbinger disguised as a seer—three times before she defected. The last, a boy no more than thirteen years old, burdened with the onus to avenge his sire, had been the last straw. She could no longer look upon mortals as mere tools. In a way, now, she’s a Rogue: she roams freely, interfering where she sees fit, sometimes simply out of spite. In other ways, she’s a Paladin: her holy quest to second-guess the gods, to deny Odin his prizes, if it means cutting short a life. She still retains the gift of seeing souls. She has no idea whether she retains her immortality—whether she will now age and can be killed—nor does she care. She does not expect to be chosen for Valhalla. She will die gladly and permanently, if she is mortal, because she has no intentions of returning to Valhalla… She has a natural knack (not a magical talent) of traveling unnoticed, stealing unseen in and out of places like a thief. She can slip, unperturbed, through situations that would daunt anyone who had not tasted immortality because she cares little for her continued existence. Though she has a healthy sense of self-preservation, she has little fear. She will protect herself, but an end is an end and eventually it must end… With these assets, she discovered a marketable skill: Odin was right to make her a messenger. She was a natural. But now, she uses this skill to earn gold and not status: in the mortal realm, a girl’s gotta eat… Edited by Skogul, Dec 9 2009, 12:23 PM.
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1:42 PM Mar 20
