User:Vornir

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This page describes a character who is dead or retired from Hollow.

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Vornir's Description:

Name: Vornir Brimirsson

Race: Frost Giant

Class: Paladin

Age: 312 years old. That, for a giant, is equivalent to around 29 for a human.

Height: 17' 3"

Weight: 8067.86

Origin: Frostmaw

Hair: Blond

Skin: Pale

Eyes: Blue


Vornir's Biography:

About Vornir and the Frost Giants:

Separated from the rest of the world by mountains and ice, the frost giants have remained relatively unchanged for thousands of years. By necessity, they are a fierce, hardy, and warlike people, trained from birth to survive in the most extreme situations. They are wild and temperamental, easily offended and angered, keen (for the most part), and cunning. Vornir himself is quite intelligent. Every action is planned, carefully, with much forethought, then executed with grim, ruthless efficiency. He is not jovial, nor is he incapable of laughing; rather, he is just more serious than most.

Beginning:

Vornir's parents were minor followers of a certain war chief, who, shortly after Vornir was born, rose up and overthrew the Jarl, taking the rulership upon himself and exiling the defeated faction. This rise to power carried benefits for all the new Jarl's followers, including Vornir's family, giving them the resources to send their son to train under the greatest warriors in the North: Aramoth's Chosen. These giants are fighters, ruthless and unyielding, who train daily with weapons of all kinds. They call on the war god, who seems to favor them, for they seldom lose in battle, and when in single combat, their skill is unmatched among the Frost Giants. To those who particularly excel among this group, Aramoth grants more noticeable favors, though these gifts can be lost if the war god is angered. Growing up among the Chosen, Vornir became most skilled at the arts of combat, learning to use a number of weapons skillfully, though always favoring the axe. As well, his prowess in battle drew the attention of Aramoth, and upon reaching full adulthood, Vornir left the Hall of the Chosen a paladin of Aramoth. He served for a time in the Jarl's war band, soon making his way up through the ranks until the Jarl gave him control of his own band, which he led with such success that the Jarl again promoted him, making Vornir the Jarl's personal Champion.

(A Small Note: Vornir's morals, his sense of right and wrong, are not the traditional “black and white, Evil and Good” style of thought. That method of thinking is a Middle-Eastern/Far-Eastern idea, which has had some serious repercussions on the Western world. Instead, Vornir will be played to match the ancestral Western style of thought; that is, an action is either working for weal (the betterment or aid of something or someone), or for woe (harming someone or something), with the remembrance that workings of woe can ultimately be workings of weal, for someone else and conversely, that weal-workings often do have negative effects. So, rather than black and white, it would be more shades of grey. I am sorry for the history lesson, but I think it is necessary to clarify this so that when you RP with me, you won't cry foul if my character's actions don't fit into your strict opinion of Good behavior. If you approach me in a tell, hmail, or something, I will usually be more than happy to explain the action in question, and how it is for the betterment of others, or for Vornir himself. As Vornir will be working for weal, rather than woe, I have selected paladin for his class, rather than death knight. However, he cares mainly for the weal of hrs race, with little regard for the others. If he is not on a mission, it is likely that he will try to stop woe working, simply because he disagrees with it, but he has no divine call to do so, for Aramoth is not one to demand a stop to violence or 'evil'. If you have a problem with this idea...well, I don't really care if you do, because this character is 100% admin approved.)

A Council

When the border between Frostmaw and the rest of Hollow opened, the Jarl met with all his advisers to discuss what to do. After much debate, it was decided that security in the town itself would be stepped up, to keep away thieves, while a representative of Frostmaw would be sent to the 'new' lands, to gather information, and to make the giants' presence known in matters of state. This representative, of course, was to be none other than the Jarl's Champion, Vornir. And so it was that, after a couple of months of preparing, and tying up his affairs in Frostmaw, Vornir set out, armed to the teeth, to see what he could see.

New! Vornir has a new weapon: the Axe of Northern Winds. This is a bearded, single-handed axe of proportionate size to the giant. The head is made from blue iron, and enchanted with ice, so that the wounds it inflicts are liable to have a touch of frostbite. More to come, later...


Important RPs


Vornir finds the Scythe of Xaneroth

Vornir basks in the intense heat of the sweat tent, a massive canopy erected in the courtyard of the Jarl's fortress. In the center of this tent is a pit, filled to the brim with small boulders, long ago enchanted by a foreign mage to remain glowingly hot. Next to the pit stands a giant bucket of water, which is every so often taken out by a small giant child, filled with snow from outside, then returned. The same child squats by the stone, flicking water on them to maintain a constant cloud of steam inside the tent, washing over the giant-sized benches that circle the pit. It is here, then, that Vornir Brimirsson sits, his long, scarred legs stretched out, his equally marked body glistening with sweat and steam. He can hear, though only faintly, the sound of the armory's hammers, pounding away as they fix the tears in his armor, the locations of which match those of the fresh scars that riddle his body, remembrance of a fight won. Although he is unarmored and seemingly relaxed, a wooden club leans on the bench beside him, showing that he is every ready for action. He sits here for some time, letting the steam ease the tension from his muscles, knots the size of small human children easing away. Finally, after hours of silent meditation, he emerges, the frigid air slapping abruptly against his skin. He dresses unhurriedly, and sets off to reclaim his armor.

It is not long before Vornir's armor is done, replaced where it cannot be mended, and all brightly polished to a deep azure sheen. Young guardsmen clamber about, each competing with the others for a chance to strap the armor on, all eager to assist the Jarl's Champion. Fully clad now, Vornir sets off once more, this time headed for the Eastern gates of Frostmaw, descending into the mountains of Xalious. His long legs eat up the distance quickly, and it is just a short walk from there to the great Sage forest, where Vornir turns north, intent on exploring a new place. The frost giant makes his way through Larket, stepping carefully through the narrow streets and peering over the low buildings, noting the layout of the town. He spends a bit of time taking stock of the castle there, memorizing its various defenses and weaknesses. Nodding to himself, he continues north, to a dark tower that draws his gaze unceasingly.

Upon reaching it, he finds it abandoned, everything within covered in a thick layer of dust - at least, everything he can see, for his frame is too large to fit through the door; he is obliged to crouch down to see in. There is one item on which the dust has not settled: a scythe, its haft of solid, dark wood, its blade gleaming brightly as if just polished. Vornir shivers involuntarily, the aura emitted by the weapon grating against his whole being, while yet pulling him, overwhelming him with desire for the artifact He reaches out to it, his arm just long enough to get to it. His hand hesitates over it for a moment and then clasps it, withdrawing it swiftly. Vornir straightens up, looking at the weapon in his hand. It was built for a human-sized being, and looks like a child's toy in his hand. At first he feels nothing but a cold humming, almost too cold to touch. He reaches out his other hand to touch the scythe's blade, and as soon as the connection is made, a shock of pain runs up into Vornir's head, causing him to throw his head back and cry out, the sound echoing loudly as it continues on and on, the weapon growing in size to fit its latest handler even as it tries to wrench his very soul from him. Feeling this battle slipping from him, despite his efforts to resist it, Vornir manages to sound out his god's name, begging desperately for aid. Almost immediately, the Aramoth's fury fills the giant, pushing back the chilling, destructive touch of the dark weapon until Vornir has regained his own, and is able to let go of the staff. He stares, shaking, at it where it lies on the ground. He had felt it...moving, writhing as if a multitude of maggots crawled just below its surface. He had felt the torment of the souls trapped within, and it seems to him that perhaps not all of them deserved such a fate. "Help them. Judge them. Release them." The thought does not seem to come from his own mind; it rings high and clear, a feminine voice cutting in above all else.

Without consciously deciding to, the giant again reaches for the scythe, watching his hands as if from afar. As they close over the weapon, he again feels the wrench, the violent pull at his soul. But this time, he sees a smaller set of hands, thin and smooth, glide through his own flesh to hold onto the haft, exactly where he himself holds it. Immediately, he feels his strength and surety flood back, filling him up, enabling him to wrap the weapon in his cloak, then tie it to his back. He turns around then, and sees a pale figure, a giantess that resembles many of his female relatives in looks. Her hair is a long cascade of silky golden strands, bound back by a circlet of filigreed silver. Her eyes are intense blue, wide and round, evenly spaced on either side of her nose, which is neither too small nor too prominent. Her skin is even paler than Vornir's own, seeming nearly translucent. She is clad in a white dress that flows behind her, but strapped to her belt is a sword, while a shield rests on her back.

She smiles at him, and again the womanly voice sounds in his mind, warm and loving. "Hail to thee, strongest kinsman. I am Jarnelding, mother to your line. Long have I guarded the sons of my sons, the line of Jarn, founder of Frostmaw. Our kin have fallen far, now you will reclaim it. In you burns the fire of Jarn, and before you, none can stand." Vornir falls to one knee in respect, murmuring, "May it be so, eldest grandmother." She reaches out a hand, her touch light and ethereal on his head. "Arise, true son of Jarn," she commands. Vornir straightens and begins his journey homeward, shadowed ever by the idis of his clan.


Vornir and Gunnar discuss the Jarl.

Gunnar emerges into the cavern, the head of an exile held within his left hand as he makes his presence known. The head is tossed before the feet of the champion as he says. " Hail! Seems this one was waiting to ambush you outside the cave." The giant chuckles as he says. " Too bad he didn't know I was about!" A broad smile births itself upon the frost giant's pale lips as he waits the champions response.

Vornir shakes his head as he looks at the head. "It is a shame, is it not? They must know that their existence is futile. We will always win. But how are you doing, Gunnar? Not too battered by the elf, eh?"

Gunnar sighs as his back is still charred from the elf's foul use of magic, but will not show an y weakness before the champion. " You should be asking him, I wonder if he is still lying upon the Executioner's Stone as we speak." The giant erupts into laughter, though it causes him some pain for the effort.

Vornir's own laugh booms out as well, and he says, "Aye, I believe I saw him there with an elven lass not long ago! He'll not forget our people's laws soon, of that I'm sure. You did well."

Gunnar inclines his head towards the champion, the mood suddenly becoming serious as the Standard Bearer dares to say. " Vornir... I believe the Jarl is becoming weak."

Vornir's mouth twists into a frown, and a dark shadow seems to pass across his face, the lines beaten in by wind, war, and age all the more visible. "Aye. Weak, and petty. Our people's taxes go to foreign places, and I notice his jealousy at our success in the wars. I do not think we will have peace long, my friend."

Gunnar inclines his head as he looks off into the tundra, peering out of the cavern and into the fading light. " Peace is overrated, and for the weak. Only the strong survive, you taught me such."

Vornir nods his head as well, though his frown yet remains. "Our people do not number many, Gunnar. I am hesitant to slaughter any but the Exiles, but I suspect that Ezezil does not share that conviction. The time will come soon, I think, when he will need to be deposed."

Gunnar said to you, "I will aid you in this cousin. For the betterment of our people. You will make a fine Jarl."

Vornir still seems troubled, however. "I thank you for that, but I will not strike first. Perhaps he can yet be rasoned with." He snorts back a laugh. "Or he'll die in his bed, fat old man that he is."

Gunnar laughs aloud as he says. " Indeed... I remember when he was a grand Jarl, with his defeat of Lokildin the one Eyed Exile, and he ushered in years of peace. But now he is corrupt, and cares little for our people anymore. He whores out our land to outsiders, alloying them to wander in the sacred temples without so much as raising his hand in protest!" The warrior sighs again as he simply shakes his head. " I hope reason can still reach him."

Vornir nods his head, and claps a gauntleted hand on Gunnar's shoulder. "Aye. Let us keep this from the men for now, though. There is no use in worrying them. I am sure some of them already sense it, though."

Gunnar inclines his head as he turns to leave to continue his training. " Aye, but when ever you are ready cousin, I shall be by your side."

Vornir nods again, and waves as Gunnar leaves. "You will be the first to know, my kinsman."


Duels

Vornir vs. Dalamar, Vornir vs. Heyx, Vornir vs. Zurlini, Vornir vs. Gregor, Vornir vs. Parsithius, Vornir vs. Orro, Vornir vs. Mahri, Vornir vs. Kyrun


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