Tyrfingr

Biographical information

Birthplace Eretejva Tundra Born Died Age Adult Home Eretejva Tundra Sexuality Pronouns

Physical description

Race Norseman Sub-Race Gender Male Height 6'5 Mass Muscular Hair color Rich Honey Eye color Hazel Skin color Tanned Fair

Political information

Affiliation(s) Occupation Crafter; Trader; Hunter Clan(s) Caste Domain Masters Apprentices Alias(es)

Out-of-character information

Writer thegraywatcher Created on N/A Avatar https://www.pinterest.com/pin/204562008059664314/

Long have the Rynstr clan roamed the Eretejva Tundra. Long have they honed their crafts. Legends speak of their works. Swords with blades that melt the oldest of ice. Cloaks of fur harder than the toughest steel. Horns that command beasts with their blows. Harps that sooth dreamers from their greatest terrors. It is said they could turn river stones into the purest of gold. Rust the purest of steel in moments.

Chieftains and yarls repeatedly have sought to learn the secrets of the Rynstr to use towards their own selfish goals. Those seeking power bring violence to the Rynstr. The Rynstr only care about their works. So age after age they would settle and grow only to abandon their homes to seek the next. But eventually they broke their cycle. They retreated deep into the unexplored wilds. Legends say they built their final home, lost to the world.

Every few years a Rynstr or two will appear. In a town, a hall, a lodge. They will seek trade. They will seek to prove the superiority of their crafts. A yarl gains a new crown. A warrior a new sword. A chieftain a new cloak. And then they will be gone. Back into the wilds they call home before the ambitious can seek them out.

A tall norseman with tanned skin always seeking to become fair once more. Rich honey colored hair grows long on his head and thick across his face. Eyes that mixture of green and brown foreigners would refer to as hazel. Thick muscles make up his figure suggesting a warrior when only a crafter is found. Blue tattoos have been etched into his skin covering his torso and all four of his limbs in what could be either the roots of a mighty tree or veins of an extensive ore deposit. Little scars and burns can be found all over his arms and hands, and even a few on his chest, that tell of every little mistake he had endured pursuing his craft. Claw marks appear across his thighs, heavier on his right and lighter on his left, tell the tale of a bear hunt that did not go well.

Representation of tattoos:

Craftsman: Tyrfingr is a gifted craftsman. Born into a clan with the sole focus on making masterworks out of any and all materials, he was trained from the time he could hold something in his hand how to make anything he wanted. Be it stone, wood, bone, metal, etc if it can be worked into something then he has the knowledge and experience to do it.

Transmutation Magic: The Rynstr clan is not the most magically gifted of clans, but they are known for a particular kind of magic: transmutation. Tyrfingr is blessed with this gift. He is able to transmute substances using his magic, such as turning lead into gold. He is able to grant or take away properties from materials as well, such as rusting iron or wool stronger than steel. Using this magic he is also able to draw out the innate magical properties find deep within the core of things. By using it this way he can effectively craft magical artifacts and enchant his materials.

His magic comes with some drawbacks however. It can not work on living beings, although it does work on their parts after death. Leather, ivory, bone, etc. His magic also requires time and focus to work leaving it highly impractical for combat. The best he could do is infuse his weapon with magical energy so that it can effect beings otherwise immune to mundane things. If he attempted to do more than this most basic of magical application the slightest break in his concentration would lead to his weapon or armor crumbling to dust leaving him utterly vulnerable. The magic is also physically draining to perform, particularly when change one substance into another. Turning a pebble into gold could leave him feeling as if he has been awake for days. Turning a brick into gold could leave him bedridden for over a week.

Hunting: While not on the level of a dedicated hunter, Tyrfingr has above average skill in hunting. The Rynstr believe in their craftsman obtaining their materials themselves. This means if they want the hide, bones, or any other part of a specific creature they need to hunt, fish, or forage for it themselves. He has learned the skills to do this and is dedicated enough to his craft to have kept these skills sharp.

Cheerful, whimsical, generous. Tyrfingr takes to heart those behaviors most cherished by the people of the tundra. Rarely without a smile on his lips and a burst of laughter bubbling up from his chest, he does not take things to heart and is ready to give a hot meal or missing coin to those in need. A merrier man ready to sing, badly out of tune, you will not find.

Stubborn, boastful, unyielding. Tyrfingr is as much the worst parts of his people as he is their best. A boar would be easier to deal with than him when he decides to dig his heels in. Once he has set his mind to something he will not stop till it is done. He won't back down when he should and often makes things worse for himself because of it. As much trouble as those get him in, he also has a bad habit of boasting. He is eager to let all know of his accomplishments and even more eager to take on any challenge that will bring him glory.

Born in Hverfgardr in the Eretejva Tundra, Tyrfingr had the same kind of childhood as all members of his clan. He began learning how to craft the moment his tiny hands could grip materials and tools. Training was made up every part of his life. Smithing, tailoring, leatherworking. No craft was left unlearned. Hunting, foraging, runecraft as well. Anything that could support his crafting.

After Tyrfingr reached adolescence he had a strange dream one night. He dreamt he had fallen into a river and it froze over, leaving only his head free. The teen Tyr struggled to break out. He failed. His parents heard the terror he was going through in his sleep. When they rushed into his room they found his fur blanket had turned to stone. Once they freed him of it he was taken to the clan shamans. They confirmed his gift of magic had awakened. A new area of training was added from then on.

The Rynstr clan's rite of passage into adulthood is a test of their skills. They must create a new work from materials they gathered themselves. They recycle old, flawed works. Hunt, forage, and grow what they can not recycle. All must go through this to provide a work of sufficient skill and use. Tyrfingr being gifted with magic needed to make an item even more so.

After months of work what Tyrfingr presented to the master crafters of his clan was a twisting tree root inlaid all along its length with various metals. Iron, copper, tin. All of them were held into place by rings and a pommel made of boar tusk. What he had given them was a tool. A tool that magically lead wielders to deposits of these metals. As wild boars and the roots of trees seeks out minerals to live, so too does the rod. The inlays softly glow to indicate which metals it has found and the root tug at the wielders hand towards near by deposits. This impressed his clan members and earned him the body tattoos that identified him as an adult. They shaped them to look as roots and ore veins to represent what earned him his place.

Tyrfingr did not remain idle in his adulthood. The praise he had received for his writ of passage lit a flame inside of him. A thirst for glory he had not known before was born. He continued to perfect his craft. Newer, rarer, and more exotic materials were needed for each new work. His hunger for glory and perfection drove him to hunting an unusually large bear. This bear had ended the life of many hunters and it nearly killed him as well. He had found the beast and threw a spear into it. Angered the beast charged faster than the norseman expected. He barely had time to raise his second spear up to impale it before it could sink its fangs into his throat. His reward for its death was the glory of the kill, its wonderful parts for his crafting, and a swipe across his thighs that would have crippled him if it was slightly deeper.

This was the first humbling event Tyrfingr had faced. The wound the mighty bear left Tyrfingr with at its final moment would have killed him as well from blood lose. If not for his cousins being nearby felling an oak tree for a project of their own hearing the roar of the bear he would not have survived. For the first time Tyrfingr realized the cost one must pay for perfection. He gave his cousins everything from the bear but its pelt and blood. A great feast was held by his family and their friends. He turned the pelt using the blood into a cloak that allows him to assume the bears form.

The second humbiling event Tyrfingr faced was when he spent months working on an ambitious project. A shed that stayed the perfect temperature for storing food at all times. He found the right trees. The right stones. The right mud. He fused each piece with magic as he put it all together. But he made a mistake. While placing the final piece that would have completed his project his mind trailed to how glorious it would be and he lost his concentration. His transmutation magic failed and everything he had worked so hard on crumbled to dust. The backlash left him bedridden for weeks. Weeks he spent cursing his failure.

Tyrfingr went back to improving his skill with magic. But after a couple of years his third humbling came. He became too obsessed with making up for his failure and began a new project. He wished to make a dagger that could become any weapon or tool the wielder needed. He became obsessed with it. Nothing was too rare or difficult to obtain for him. He didn't know how long it took him but eventually he had gotten everything he needed. He just lacked one final material to complete it. Luck was with him as an old sword contained what he needed. So in his clan's tradition he recycled the sword. He finished up his tool, but it did not come out as expected. It did indeed shift its shape but it couldn't turn into anything that wasn't some kind of blade.

While there was some praise for his tool despite its flaw, Tyrfingr soon came to be shamed. One of the elder master craftsman recognized the part he had recycled. The old sword was a masterwork of one of the clan's greatest swordsmiths. Recycling is a part of his clan's tradition but a masterwork is never to be recycled. It is even worse if it is used to make an inferior work.

Tyrfingr had committed a taboo for his clan. This devastated him. Worse was that his clan chieftain under the advice of their elders banished him from Hverfgardr. He can only return when he has crafted a masterwork to replace the one he had taken from them.