|This page describes a character who is dead or retired from Hollow.|
Race: Frostmaw Human Class: Warrior Sub-class: Berserker Weapons: Runic axe and sword Eyes: Silver flecked blue Hair: Dirty blonde Height: 6ft even Weight: 210 Orientation: Straight Status: Single and not really looking
Who is Ragni?
Through the bitter cold, desolate winters and frozen summers the Northman stands, battle clad and ready to ride into the eternal songs of praise. No fight too small, nor war too great. Amidst the chaos of battle he is found covered in a grotesque splattering of blood, sweat, and gore; berserking through waves of friend and foe alike. Lost within the deep and dark recesses of rage those runic weapons fell enemies in a mist of red. Often he is found far beyond his allies still pushing forward into the epicenter of battle; into the magnificence of slaughter. Alone he wanders searching for his end of days, the challenge which shall lead to his demise. Most fear the unknown, the dark abyss of their conclusion. Ragni embraces the crescendo, the height of brutal strength; the exaltation of ability as he is finally crushed by his foe.
The History of Ragni before Hollow
The shamans and sages of the Rognvald tribe have doomed Ragni to a life of age and peaceful death. An eternity unfulfilled in their greatest of quests; to die in combat. Such a foretelling is only viewed as a curse of the worst degree and one which Ragni selfishly tries to prove wrong. Enraged the warrior throws himself at beasts and foes alike. The Ice Dragon Frynheardt, blue and powerful as any of his kind met the berserker on the field of battle. This was yet another attempt at meeting his maker and still it did not come. Though mortally wounded Ragni returned from the lust of his mind standing over a cleaved foe.
~They praised him~
The chants, cheers and songs of glory and praise were much like nails scraping across a chalkboard. They meant little, leaving naught but a sorrowful expression upon his visage and rage filled dreams to claim his world of sleep. Determined, the northern beast moves on to his next challenge. The wraiths from old, descended upon his village. They spilled the blood of the innocent, and swept fear across his insignificant island. The berserker rose to the challenge and led his party into the bowls of the north. It is there where the final confrontation happened. Little is known of the exact happenings, but Ragni was found one week later; drawing deep ragged breaths. Around him lie the corpses of their enemies, the wraiths.
~Again they praise his prowess~
Their damnable songs and titles were like words for the deaf; meaning little. Even outnumbered, against all odds, he still drew breath. Life still clung to his wretched body. None had come to match his strength. Peace fell upon the land for a time, and all was well for the Rognvald tribe. There was still an emptiness within Ragni, a hole eating at his heart whilst he lived. War finally befell the two tribes of the north, and though the Rognvald won, nothing stopped the fierce veteran of the north. It is in these fateful moments that Ragni cast off, leaving his tribe to fend for themselves. Leaving the shamans who cursed him, running from his suicidal pursuit of happiness. Ragni has found Hollow and has offered his skills to the kingdom of Frostmaw, though giving little details of his past to those who ask. This was a fresh start, a way to work up the ranks. A way to mash his skills against the tribes and people of this world. This is where he has found happiness.
“My sword and axe will taste the flesh and bone of all who seek them.” ----Ragni
“To live is the struggle of life and mine will end in glorious conquest.” ----Ragni
“Prepare for a clash of beings more epic than the gods themselves, for we are mortal!” ----Ragni
Rognvald prayer for battle
Lo der ser jeg min far før meg
Lo der ser jeg mødre og brødre og søstre
Lo der ser jeg linjen av mitt folk
Tilbake til begynnelsen
De byr meg velkommen bror
Til hallene av Aramoth
Hvor modige kan leve evig
(it’s Norwegian, feel free to translate)