PLAYED BY: Trinity Peckham
CHARACTER NAME: Hildr Ironshear
PRONOUN(S): She/her
CLASS: Warrior
AGE: Born during the harvest season around 17 years ago.
RACE: Ulven
HAIR: Brown
EYES: Blue
OCCUPATION: Hildr was a sheep farmer but now fights against Grimward with the Ulfen Hirðmaðr
KNOWN SKILLS: She can till a field, shear a sheep, bash heads and break shields.First Aid, Two Handed Weapons, Cleaving, Shield Proficiency, Armor Proficiency, Trade: Laborer
BIRTHPLACE: Hildr was born in Pack Ironshear, a pack of mostly shepherds in North Central Nightriver territory
APPEARANCE: Hildr wears plain clothes and a permanent scowl.
NOTABLE TRAITS: Hildr would look like any other farm girl if it weren’t for the large axe and the tangible desire to use it.
RELATIONSHIPS: Ignis Rammrúll: Mother
Bjorn Hraðrúll: Father
Æsa- A fellow member of the Hirðmaðr
Signe- A fellow member of the HIrðmaðr and Pack Ironshear. Hildr saved her from her burning house.
Froden Nightblossom- A fellow member of the Hirðmaðr
Halfdan- A fellow member of the Hirðmaðr
RUMORS:
“She brims with such anger that birds do not sing when she is nearby.”
“Her axe whispers to her when a Grimward warrior is close.”
BIO / BACKGROUND HISTORY: It was a pleasantly cold spring evening. The sky was the color of a hearthfire, the black Hackles imposed on it from below. Freshly sheared sheep meandered across the darkening landscape. All was at peace. After absorbing the last warmth of the sun, I got up and gave my sheepdog Trygve the command to bring the sheep back.
I was slow getting back home. Home was excited to see me and met me halfway. Two raiders dropped the sacks they had been carrying and sauntered over to me in the manner of a wolf that looms over a trapped rabbit. They taunted me.
“Your village is gone. What will you do about it, pup?”
“They screamed like babies and burned like candles in a bonfire.”
“How selfish of you to have left them to die.”
I stood frozen in my boots. I felt like a possum, playing dead. It sickened me. From the corner of my vision, I saw something dark moving through the air. A long dark spot, flying. No, leaping into view. My eyes followed it as it went. I realized what was happening. Trygve latched on to a raiders throat. Blood everywhere. A scream pierced my ears. I ran and the world blurred. Not only from the running, but from the tears in my eyes when I heard Trygve’s growling cut off.
“You bitch,” Screamed the remaining raider, “I’ll bury you and your fucking hound!” That made me turn around and stop. I didn’t care if he wanted to bury me, but Trygve was a different matter.
“Come and bury me, then,” I screamed at him, my words marred by tears. I would have sobered up and run when he started to take me up on that, had he not just unsheathed his sword from the bloody wreck that was my dog. It only made me angrier.
As the raider came closer, clearly upset, I readied myself. I had no idea how to fight. The closest I’d gotten was using my crook on a particularly determined wayward sheep. Neither of our heads were clear, but the space between my crook and his leg certainly was. Acting on instinct, I hooked the leg and calmly guided it into the air. The raider fell. He was surprised. I surprised his head with my boot.
Remembering what the raiders had said about my village, I ran back, twisted visions swimming through my mind.
An eerie sight lay before my eyes. It was almost quiet. In my head, I imagined screams, blood running down the streets, and people running to and fro. This was worse. It was worse because there was no fanfare. To the world, the burning of my home was nothing special. The burning buildings sounded no different from a crackling hearth, and the wind sounded no different as it blew my tears back into my eyes.
I hoped they had spared my house and that I could walk inside. My worries would melt away. My father would be baking sweet bread and my mother would be cleaning a kill outside the window. But my house was nothing special.
Where my house should have been, I found a spot of ash and timbers, no different from the spot next to it. I did not look for my parents’ bodies. If they died, then their souls had already been freed. If they had been taken as thralls, I would find them. I wouldn’t be able to do it on my own, though. I would need help.
Walking through the remains of the village, I saw a still-burning house and a woman inside of it. I thought I recognized her. Yes, Signe. She was looking at something. She didn’t seem to be interested in escaping. I felt the need to shout, “Signe, get out of there! You will burn!” I grabbed a wool blanket and took it upon myself to save her. I entered where a wall had collapsed and hauled her out by the shoulder.
After a few days spent crying and picking up some of what was left behind, I went back to Signe. She was hurt and angry, like I was. “I am going to Onrich, if you’d be going that way too we could pass that way together? I want to send those raiders to the Great Wolf and I need to find people that will help me.”