PLAYED BY: Marisa Considine
CHARACTER NAME: Saga Elinsdottir
GENDER: Woman
PRONOUN(S): She/Her
CLASS: Cleric
AGE: 27
RACE: Ulven
HAIR: Brown
EYES: Brown
OCCUPATION: Ex-farmer, refugee, and healer
KNOWN SKILLS: Some magic, ritual magic, healing skills, very basic combat training, knowledge of herbs and plants.
BIRTHPLACE: A small farming village in what is now Grimward territory but was at the time Stormjarl territory.
APPEARANCE: Wears a blue apron dress over top of an underdress. Fur is draped over her shoulders.
RELATIONSHIPS:
● Elin Geirdísdottir—Mother, Daughter of Gaia, and Teacher. Missing.
● Bertil Agnarrsson—Father, Farmer. Missing.
● Ottar Elinson–Older Brother. Missing, presumed Dead.
● Dalla Elinsdottir–Younger Sister. Missing.
● Mæva— Infant daughter. Missing, presumed dead.
● Dúrnir Stonegut—Husband
RUMORS: People in the town she and her family fled to probably gossip about how her family lost everything to the Civil War. Some might wonder how they survived.
BIO / BACKGROUND HISTORY:
Saga was never meant to know battle. Born in a small farming village in central Stormjarl territory in the year 246, her father, who had lost both a leg and an arm fighting the Mordok in the north and her mother, a Daughter of Gaia, had hoped that settling in such a well protected and remote area would give their children the life of peace that they themselves did not grow up with. One in which training and joining war efforts could be a conscious choice rather than a necessity.
For the most part, they were right. Though news of colonists or refugees (depending on who you asked) landing on the shores of Mardrun certainly reached the village, and though this was discussed in length amongst the adults, Saga never saw them. Mordok were relatively far away, and the village was too poor in coin to be of value to bandits or other ne’er-do wells. Saga’ childhood was idyllic. Her days were spent helping her parents tend to their fields, studying magic with her mother, and playing with other children of the village, especially her older brother Ottar and younger sister Dalla.
Saga’ parents couldn’t have predicted that the perfect life they had planned for their children would be shattered by the Ulven Civil war. Saga was just 16 when it began. The people of her village had heard of fighting in far off places before, but this was different. This was Ulven fighting Ulven, this was a war close to the border of Stormjarl territory, not too far from their home. Saga returned home one day from helping another family fix their barn after a storm to find her Father and Ottar in the midst of a heated argument. Ottar wanted to fight. It was a manner of honor for him. Bodies were needed on the front to fight against clan Grimward, he needed to go. Saga’ father refused. Ottar knew nothing of war, had barely trained with a sword, had never seen a Mordok or faced another Ulven in battle. Ottar left that very day. Saga never saw him again.
The attack came at dawn. As the light of the sun peaked out from behind the horizon clan Grimward came with swords and spears and torches. Fields were set ablaze. Those who tried to fight back were killed or captured. It would be nice to say that Saga was heroic, that she stood and fought back against the throngs of Grimward warriors, but she wasn’t. She and her family hid in the cellar with a few other members of her pack praying they wouldn’t be found. They listened to the screams of their pack mates being slaughtered above them. What could they do? When the sounds of fighting faded they emerged, frightened, but safe. They ran. Fled back behind the new Stormjarl lines. After weeks of hiding from Grimward warriors, living off the land, sleeping little, and walking for most of the day, the realization that she and her pack had successfully made it back to Stormjarl territory was the greatest joy she had experienced up to that moment. Unfortunately, that was the last time Saga saw her home. When the treaty was signed her village remained part of Grimward territory. But they had each other and that is what mattered.
Saga and her family resettled in a port village near Haygreth’s Scar on the easternmost coast of Stormjarl territory. With a new home came new friends and new opportunities. Trade coming in from Syndar and Human colonies nearby granted the ability to meet others and learn from them. It was there she met Dúrnir. They quickly fell in love. Their wedding was a joyous day for both families. A daughter, Mæva, came quickly after.
The raid came at night. The village was unprepared for war, its leaders having not yet received news of what had happened at the Moot that very day. Few guards were on patrol, few people remained awake. Saga awoke to the blowing of horns and the great sound of the alarm bell ringing out. The scent of smoke filled the air. Was something burning? The screams soon betrayed the truth, the port itself was under attack by warriors under Clan Grimward banners. Images of what happened to her people the last time Grimward attacked played in her mind. Where was the baby? Safe, thankfully. Screaming, terrified, with big fat tears rolling down her
little chubby face, but safe. Saga grabbed Mæva’ blanket and began the difficult task of swaddling her. If Grimward was attacking then nowhere in western Stormjarl territory could be safe. There just wasn’t enough land to be lost. Any colonies would be likely to come under attack. She knew of a Stormjarl settlement on The Fire Isle. They’d need to make it to the ships by running straight past Grimward soldiers to the docks and pray that at least one boat had been spared. First she’d need to find her pack.
Stepping outside the house Saga was met with crowds of panicked individuals running to get away from the flames and the fighting. People were screaming. Fire leapt from the docks to the straw thatched roof of a house. By the time Saga made it to Dalla’s house she found it empty. Fire blocked the path to where her parents lived. Worse yet, they were running out of time to make it safely to the remaining boats. A decision was made. They’d have to hope that Saga’s family found a way to survive on their own. By now though the fire and fighting had caused the panicked villagers to be herded into one small alleyway between two large buildings. Groups of people trying to run away from the docks and those running towards the boats pressed up against each other. There wasn’t an obvious way around. With one hand holding Dúrnir’s and the other clutching Mæva tightly they dove into the throng of people.
It was a mistake. With enough people in one area it becomes impossible to decide where and how you move. Fire jumped to the building on Saga’ left. The crowd panicked more, Ulven, Human, and Syndar all pushing against one another trying to get away. Saga clung tightly to DúrnirS’s hand, tried to pull Mæva in towards her chest but in one violent motion Saga was flung forward in the crowd, her arm twisted behind her, and Mæva disappeared. She screamed, cried out for her infant, but she physically couldn’t get back to where her baby was lost and in the darkness and confusion no one could have helped her.
When they emerged from the crowd on the other side Saga insisted on going back in. She had lost everything. Again. Her family may survive without her, but Mæva was helpless. Even if Mæva had been crushed under the throngs of people in the crowd, so long as she was alive Saga knew she and Dúrnir could save her. She had to save her. Mourning and denial was interrupted by a Grimward soldier attacking Dúrnir from behind. Saga was facing away and only felt the spray of blood on her back and heard her husband’s cry. She spun, cast flare on the attacker, grabbed her husband and ran. She was not losing another member of her family today.
At the docks she found a small ship that had been spared. A small sailboat designed only for short trips. Whoever owned it had left some moderate provisions inside and a map. With Dúrnir busy working on patching himself up to the best of his ability Saga pushed the boat away from the docks.
Saga did not grow up on the shores of Stormjarl territory, so she was not the best sailor and it was very dark at night. It became clear the next day that Saga had lost track of where exactly they were. Saga and Dúrnir used the sun to guide them. After a few days of travel when The Fire Isle never showed up on the horizon they realized that they must have overshot it. Then came the question of what to do next. Saga felt empty and lost. Everything and everyone was gone. She didn’t know what to do. It was Dúrnir who came up with the answer. During his time training in the militia at Haygreth’s Scar he met members of the Stormjarl Einherjar. Saga immediately knew what she wanted to do. She was done running.