Hellfrost: Old Gods
An Anari noble from lands afar, fighting for Glory.
Parry 9 (2)
Toughness 9 (3)
Languages: Anari, Trader, Tuomi
Knowledge (Battle) d4
Knowledge (Folklore) d4
Having too many older brothers, Soren has no chance of making name for himself as the lord of his region. He has, however, a noble soul and the will to set things right for those who cannot set things right themselves.
Soren has no desire to see civilized blood shed. He will always leave human opponents alive and fights them only if not given another option.
Quirk: Always announces his heritage (minor)
Soren prefers everyone who deals with him to know who he is.
0 Vigor d6
10 Trademark Weapon
15 Strength d10
20 Counter Attack
Soren is of noble blood.
Soren has trained himself into an ideal. Under all the armor lies a man build like a weightlifter.
Quick, Trademark Weapon
Soren has had extensive training fighting with a sword and a shield.
20 Heroic Status
“I am Knight Soren, child of Ikenius and wielder of the Siphoning Sword, whose family hails from the land of Freelands. My elder brother, Banneret Crom, fights the beasts of Hellfrost among the ranks of Heart Knights until it is his time to take his rightful place as the Baron of our family. Our father, Baron Ikenius, showed kindness towards a skald, who was almost slain by the Siphoning. His father, Baron Gerth, was part of a battle to defend a village when the orcs descended from Mace Mountains to Vestmark. His father, Baron Chromius, took control of our lands, ensured the safety of the peasants and build our manor!”
“Tell me, cleric of the Norns, what kind of a man shall my newborn grow into?” the baron asked of the mysterious woman.
“Yeah, yeah! Tell us!” Crom joined his father, hardly masking his restlessness.
“Silence, boy!” the father growled in a commanding tone. “Let the witch work her magi…” he regretted his words immediately: “Forgive me, your Holiness. I meant no ill with my foolish words.”
“Heh. Heh.” The priestess chuckled quietly. “It’s quite all right, milord. It takes something a bit more to make my tears drop”. She ran her bony finger across the baby’s large forehead. “Heed my words, milord, for I shall say this only once.” she said as she fell into a trance. She continued with a voice as if possessed by something greater than herself: “When the time comes, when this mortal meets his defining moment, the one which will shape him, prepare him for his ordeals to come…”
“Yes… Tell me!” The baron insisted.
The cleric gasped.
“He will show some skill. When the time comes, he will have six over ten, but his peers will have only five over ten.”
“But… but what does it mean?” the baron was baffled.
“I have no answers for you.” The cleric responded, clearly out of her trance. “The Norns have given a glimpse to his fate, it is now your duty to prepare your son for that fate. I bid you farewell.”
“Of course, your Holiness. I have prepared a gift for your services. It awaits you downstairs.”
When the cleric of the Norns had left, Chrom pondered: “Six over ten, when Piers has only five… Who’s Piers? Does this mean he won’t get to have as much sweet tea as Soren?”
“Haha”, the father laughed, "No boy, I don’t think she meant that. Whatever she did mean, we will see it for ourselves, one day. One day.