Thorfin

BIO

• Realm: Tir na nOg
• Unit:
• Fighting Since:
• Class:
• Race: Fey, Fairy
• Weapon Kits:
• Sigil:
• Other Facts

About

Lore

Once a denizen of the deep forest. Thorfin was once part of the Wild Hunt that would scour the lands. He would often frequent the village of Tir to trade but never stay in the settlement for long. Brutal and free, he would hunt all those who he saw as weak within the Forrest. It wasn't until he himself was hunted and captured that he saw the error to his ways. Through skill and intellect he was able to escape back into the Arcadian wood, nearly mortally wounded. He as able to stop the bleeding of his wounds, but was unable to heal the wound completely. Limping through the wood, he came across a bubbling mire. Black ooze coated all of the decaying forest, filling the air with putrid brimstone and rot. Thorfin, accidentally falling into a puddle of ooze, was unable to scrape it off his boot. It began to slowly encompass his body, the only thing keeping it at bay being his knowledge of fairy magics and healing. The ooze slowly hardened into a shell that began to crack and flake as the days passed - finally chipping off entirely one morning with a loud crack. Thorfin was amazed to see that his wounded leg had healed back, and the bone had been reset to its original place. He then returned to the mire, this time dipping himself in a baptism of filth and sickness. As soon as he dipped his head below the surface, he could hear a voice beckoning him to dive deeper into the muck. Surfacing to gather his breath, he dived back into the muck, making his way through the thick blackness. At the bottom of the muck he could feel a dull warmth emanating from something unseen. He reached out his hand and felt something smooth and metallic, yet emanating a warm glow. Grabbing it he resurfaced - gasping for breath. Looking at his new trinket he saw it to be a small silver amulet with the ancient runes "Whom shall ever wield this may guide the world form darkness with the darkness. With the discarded we shall make anew - the Queen of Trash". Attaching the amulet to his belt he slowly walked back to town covered in crusting ooze. He soon renounced his allegiance to the wild hunt and settled in Tir as a simple baker - volunteering in the local militia. He spends his idle time making food and caring for the simple denizens of Tir - never forgetting the humility of his position as Queen of Trash - the augur of renewal.