Jormund Snowfield

Jormund Snowfield

Biographical information

Birthplace Vesturfjord Born Died Age 31 Home Alliria Sexuality Pronouns

Physical description

Race Human Sub-Race Gender Male Height 6'4" Mass 195lbs Hair color Brown Eye color Yellow Skin color Caucasian

Political information

Affiliation(s) Occupation Hedge Knight Clan(s) Caste Domain Masters Apprentices Alias(es)

Out-of-character information

Writer Locke Created on 11/27/2022 Avatar Anna Moshak

Jormund Snowfield is a northman who has committed his life to the way of the blade, from growing up in Vesturfjord, he has committed himself to the way of the hedge knight, wandering the lands for gainful employment.

To be born in the thick howling winds of the north, is to be born with thick skin. The weak and frail do not last long in the cold, Jormund had seen this many times, and knew he would see it many more. His past was as usual as they come for northmen, he had spent most of his childhood learning how to hunt and survive in the wilderness that he and his people called home, learning the different types of animals there were out in the tundra and exactly the best way he could catch one for food.

The unusual thing about Jormund is the fact that he was alone, his mother passed at childbirth and he had never met his father. The people that lived in Vesturfjord did what they thought was best for him and was taken into the home of a prominent swordsman that resided within the town. There he was given the surname Snowfield, fitting as that is where he was born, in a small tent in a Snowfield.

Jormund did much to repay the kindness to his adopters, putting in twice the effort as any of the other young boys within the village, out performing kids more then a few years older and twice his size at doing any task that the village may require from a young and able bodied man.

The man that Jormund saw as his father figure did not turn a blind eye to all the hard work that Jormund has put in to his work, everyday the man would watch as the young Jormund would put every ounce of his being into the tasks he had to accomplish that day, making sure to give more then anyone else would. This was the moment that his adoptive father decided to teach him the way of the sword, Jormund was already proficient with the bow as all hunters should be, and his experience with the spear was superb, but the sword was not a weapon for a hunter of animals, it was a weapon for a warrior, meant to take on much more dangerous and vile creatures that would ever dare to threaten a home.

Day and night Jormund practiced with his sword, no block of wood was spared, no mound of snow not slashed at with his glimmering steel blade. Jormund never let the sword given to him by his adoptive father leave more then a few inches from his body, it was almost like he had a third arm, it was something he never wanted to leave his sight.

As everyone is when they begin at a new skill he was not the most outstanding fighter in the world, but slowly as time drew on Jormund began to pick up the way of the swordsman, until on his 14th nameday he disarmed his adoptive father leaving the cold steel tip of his blade against his throat as he stood before him triumphantly.

This is not where Jormund planned on stopping, he knew that if he wanted to continue to fight with his sword he would need to practice more, and spent more time learning different ways to fight with his sword, this is the moment where he decided his time in Vesturfjord had come to an end.

Jormund was gone within a few moons of his 15th nameday, taking on as a "bodyguard" of a caravan traveling southwards to trade with a nearby village. Jormund was extatic to see the world, and knew that this was the only way he would become the best swordsman he could, to make the man who took him in proud.

On their way to the neighboring village, the young man felt something was off, he felt a trace of something within the air, his eyes being dragged to an unsual pile of snow not far off the path in front of them. Before either he, nor the rest of his compatriots could react a group of bandits appeared from their cloaks of snow and rushed towards the caravan.

Jormund's sword whistled as it sliced through the air, piercing the neck of an unsuspecting bandit, the blood gushing from the wound as Jormund turned towards another attacker that was dragging a woman off the sear of her sled. He rushed towards the woman and slashed at the bandit, his sword slashing a deep wound within the side of the man before the bandit turned and backhanded the young Jormund, sending him flying into the snow with a loud thud.

As suddenly as it had happened it was over, Jormund laid there in the blackness of his mind, before he felt something cold as ice push against him. He awoke to a pair of yellow eyes staring back into his, a large wolf, nearly double the size of one he had ever seen was staring at him. Jormund knew that he should be scared, or worried about this wolf staring at him, but somewhere deep inside him he knew that the creature meant no harm to him. Jormund took to his feet and began to make his way towards the village he was supposed to deliver the caravan to.

Around him as he began his trek was the bodies of both friends and bandits alike, he counted the dead, everyone who he had started his journey with had perished before him, with only a few of the bandits making it out to take their loot and the rest of the sleds that the caravan had brought with them.

----------------To Be Continued------------------------

For a Northman Jormund is above average even for their height. His body has an athletic and powerful build for the many hours spent fighting and training his body for combat. His body and face is littered with the occasional scars. One thing that many people would notice about Jormund was his piercing yellow eyes, an unnatural eye color for humans to have.

As Jormund is a Hedge Knight he has spent a good part of his teenage and adult life cultivating his abilities in sword combat, being proficient in the use of multiple different styles of sword combat and having studied many different philosophies. Besides being a great swordsman Jormund is an expert at surviving the harsh wilderness of the tundra's that surround his homeland.