Skad
Appearance
At first glance, Skad fits all the stereotypes of the Nordwirr species, and also at a second and third glance. She stands tall for a woman, but not unusually for those who hail from The Lost Isles. Her formerly imposing build of lean muscle has diminished in recent, leaner times, and her build errs on the scrawny side, particularly in comparison with other Nordwiir.
Scars are a given upon the fair skin of her body and face, each a mark of another death evaded. The most prominent scars upon her denote what should have been a fatal injury: a slit throat, varying stab and slash wounds upon her torso, and a particularly vicious old wound across her right thigh. Amongst the collection of silver slivers upon Skad's flesh, the most notable flaw is her missing right eye. The empty socket is usually covered by a cloth, more to prevent infection than for vanity's sake.
She sports the typical blonde hair of her people, which is usually kept braided and pinned back to avoid getting in her face in the heat of battle. Regarding facial features, Skad's are slim and dour, marked just as much with scar tissue as the rest of her. Her remaining eye is a muddied green, and the stare that comes from it can often feel empty and unfeeling.
Personality
Skad's time away from The Lost Isles has considerably complicated her character.
Known by her fellow Nordwiir to be a treacherous, cut-throat cunt, she had always embraced that any comradery or bonds of friendship would be beyond her and lay in direct opposition to Haraudur, the God of Blood's desires. Before her faith in the Dark Gods had been shaken, Skad was renowned for committing some of the most monstrous acts among her people, sacrificing the innocent and her kin alike in pursuit of wicked faith.
The moniker of Kin-Slayer was initially meant to vilify following the slaying of her sister, Hella. Instead, it was embraced by the woman, who was more than proud to sacrifice her fellow Wiir if pleased Haraudur.
This, however, is no longer the case.
Her devotion to Haraudur and the Dark Gods has since turned to doubt and in the wake of this change, Skad's solution to her problems is no longer death. She is fast becoming aware of the weight of her deeds and, in doing so, is experiencing once-novel concepts like paranoia, guilt and regret. It is difficult to say whether she will be capable of accepting her actions or if she will crumble under the weight of such atrocities.
Typically, a conversation with Skad is a blunt and unfriendly one. A combination of language barriers and wishing to remain guarded against potential enemies means she is not one for long conversations or actively emoting. However, in terms of the latter, this mask, too, has begun to slip, and she finds herself unable to temper stronger emotion as it rises within her, even if it is a mark of weakness.
Skills and Abilities
Skad, like all those who return from The Great Hunt, had been blessed with a gift from the Gods. In a fitting tribute to her former love of slaughter, she could defy death for a short period. This undying rage enabled her to survive and even ignore grievous wounds that would usually spell the end of life, and in the aftermath, those injuries even healed.
Such a blessing, however, came with a price that had to be paid, and when Skad utilised her gift in battle, she had to take the life of another in exchange.
Following her doubt in the Nordwiir faith, however, Skad no longer believes that she still possesses her blessing but has no way of knowing without risking her death.
Outside of her gift, Skad is a formidable fighter who fears no pain or injury and is one to be found on the frontlines in the thick of the violent melee. Having only one eye means that the woman lacks depth perception and thus is never seen wielding ranged weapons, much preferring a singular knife as her primary weapon. She is not the best or most skilled fighter amongst her people, but Skad's tenacity renders her a fearsome sight on the battlefield.
Kin-Slayer
The bitter wind of the tundra howled through the snow-laden hills of The Lost Isles, the scarce treeless landscape a barren sight that was beheld by two sets of eyes.
Two young women, identical twins, stood and surveyed the desolation of the land as their thick skins and furs fought off the assault from the frigid elements. There was very little to set them apart upon first glance, the only significant detail being that one clutched a bow in gloved hands and the other an axe.
Upon closer inspection, one could see the minor differences between them. Proud, blonde hair styled similarly but braided and pinned in deviating fashion. Different marks upon faces, one more scarred than the other (likely due to choice in weaponry). Noses that had both been broken before but reset by force now sat slightly differently.
They were Hella and Skad, and today was their eighteenth birthday.
Today was The Great Hunt.
It had been sleepless nights in anticipation of this day, for this was the rite of passage that all Nordwiir men and women took part in when they came of age. Today they would seek to be chosen and blessed by the Gods that watched over them all. Life before for them had been building up for this day, their formative years spent knowing this was it.
Ascend or die.
"It's been miles, and there's nothing," remarked the woman clutching the bow, Hella, as she looked at the scene behind them, a mirror picture of stark rolling hills painted in nothing but white, grey and brown, "not even sight nor sound of another clan. It's all just snow and fucking rocks."
The other woman stared on ahead, her face an impassive void that bore no response to the frustration of her sister, and without missing a beat, Skad began to march once more, her boots crunching slightly in the snow.
"Lay down and die without faith, then."
Hella rolled her eyes, more than accustomed to her twin's abrasive words and manner. Sometimes she scarcely believed that they were related. Oh, in appearance, yes, but in nature, absolutely not. Hella was generally well-liked within their clan; she was respected in part due to her charisma but absolutely because of her ability with a bow and arrow. And Skad?
Skad was a cunt.
"You know what I mean," she finally responded stiffly, remaining still as her sister continued walking onwards, the growing physical distance between them a fitting metaphor for the emotional distance, "I expected something more, something exciting; I don't know, just something."
"So you question The Darks Gods?"
The distance between them grew further as Skad continued forth, voice raised to compensate for the winds that whistled between them.
"No."
It wasn't so much that Hella questioned such things, but when raised upon the tales of great Nordwiir men and women that came before them, she had expected far more glory than an empty hike for miles. A great beast to slay, a fierce battle with a warring clan, even a-
Both women froze in both mind and body as a peculiar sensation overtook their shared blood, driving heat across their bodies as the question seemed to be answered.
Visions flashed across their minds in violent succession, just like them, similar but ultimately different. One girl saw her twin lying across the rocks and moss, her corpse perforated by three well-placed arrows. One in her knee, one in her eye and one in her heart. The other saw the remains of her sister, mangled upon the ground, snow stained by a crimson massacre and in each open axe wound, the picture of a frenzy.
They knew what they had been asked to do.
Both at once felt a change within them, and as Skad turned upon her heel, Hella was already pulling an arrow from her quiver. As she drew back her bow, Hella felt its power; time seemed to slow down as she aimed at the sight of her charging sister. It felt like the archer had all the time in the world to make her shot. The arrow was loosed with a thwip lost in the wind.
One in her knee.
Skad cried out in furious pain as the tip of the arrow pierced into the flesh of her left knee, her charge upon her sibling hampered by the injury but not yet quashed. Her blood still stirred and boiled within her in what felt like a wild fever.
A second arrow was drawn quickly as Hella knew perfectly well of her sister's tenacity. There was no real sense of treachery here, blood was one thing, but their faith was another. Were the young woman to hesitate for a moment, then there was no doubt that her sibling would cut her down like she was nothing. It was only fair to return the favour.
One in her eye.
Just as the vision demanded, the second arrow came with frightening accuracy, piercing her charging sister's right eye in the centre. Undeniably her new gift was the touch of the marksman. Oh, what glory it would bring to her name, what efras that would have been birthed! However, the task was still undone, and Skad's limping charge continued, a blood-curdling war scream quashing the tundra wind that swirled around them.
The third and final arrow would see her chosen and blessed. Within Hella's heart, there was a slight sadness; even with little affection between the pair, it was still her twin; they were still connected. Even if it wasn't by love and only by the womb's blood, she knew that Skad did not feel that same sadness, which made the last arrow all the easier to release.
One in her heart.
The third arrow, the killing blow, accurately pierced through Skad's chest, between her ribs and directly into her heart.
Yet still, she was not felled.
Skad had never felt more alive. Her gift was in defiance of death itself, and innately the woman knew that in tribute for such power, she had to give them life in return. Hella's life. The pounding thrum of blood in her ears washed over the screeching pain of her wounds, her remaining eye wide in a wicked frenzy as she caught the panicked whites of Hella's. The limp once more became a charge, her unstoppable fury breaking chains of mortal limitations despite the arrow still embedded within her knee.
Hella panicked as her hand dropped to her sheathed dagger, and her charging twin closed the gap. She didn't understand! She had done what The Gods' had asked! Fulfilled the vision of the three arrows perfectly! How could her sister still be standing?! How could she still be alive?! Before the young woman could truly realise her divine condemnation, her sister's axe split the side of her skull from a wide-arced swing, killing her instantly.
A bloodthirsty grin of peeled-back lips and bared teeth emerged from the victor as Skad planted a foot upon her downed sister's body and wrenched her axe out of the head. There wasn't a shred of remorse within her as she ripped the arrow out of her chest and marvelled at the wound that suddenly began to knit itself close, leaving mottled scar tissue behind.
The same thing happened when the woman pulled the arrow from her knee, the pain still lingering by the injury gone in its entirety. However, when Skad pulled the last arrow out, and with it her right eyeball, there was no healing; the eye did not regenerate. A parting gift from Hella.
It didn't matter, for she had been blessed.
In rampant celebration, the woman brought her axe down once more upon her sister's fresh corpse and again and again, desecrating her twin's body with a litany of frenzied axe wounds as the wind cowered at her accompanying victorious shouts.
She had been chosen.