Ulfhrafn

Intro

• "An aloof seer, devote follower of Hrafn. Committed to family and blood."

• Basic Info

  • Name: Ulfhrafn
  • Gender: Male
  • Played by: Ulfhrafn
  • Nicknames: Ulf
  • Race: Fenrir
  • Class: Godi
  • Alignment: Lawful Neutral
  • Deity: Hrafn
  • Age: 7
  • Size: Small
  • Body Type: Average
  • Height: 5'6"
  • Weight: 170
  • Complexion: Light
  • Hair: Dark
  • Eyes: Brown
  • Handedness: Right
  • Scars: Claw across the eye
  • Personality: Aloof Seer
  • Mannerisms: Was born a wolf
  • Likes: Spirits, Family, Good Health
  • Dislikes: Wyrm, Sadness, Horano

• Biography

  Born a wolf in the forests north of Tosbotn. A large pack of Fenrir kin, made by many families of wolves. They hunted the large expanse of the Southern Sami fjords and Lomsdal-Visten Forests. Many large caves dotted the landscape of the area. Where the wolves would reside in the darker of seasons.
  
  His first change was normal for those in the north. Some livestock went missing and a trail of red snow led to the tuckered, now garou, pup. A local sept brought Ulf in teaching him in the ways of the Garou. His sign was revealed as a the crescent face, destined to be a Godi. His first thing he was presented a pack of cubs to run and train with. A Ragabash, by the name Golgol , had only gone through his first change a week prior to his arrival. They were the closest and thus tried to work together the most, testing and emboldening each other.
  
  His trials for cliath were harrowing, sent to investigate a blight; clean in and find the root. Thinking it only banes, this was a regular rite for young cubs to prove themselves. But the wyrm new this, watching the sept send its weak to clear its fringe taint. Laying a trap for the would-be garou, formori and a fallen fenrir pack laid in wait.
  
  The tree was cleansed, with little trouble and morale was high. But the way into the woods was cut off, the tree only a distraction to surround them. The 8 that entered, 3 dropped in the first wave. Another, a Ahroun, turned to the group saying “Run” before turning back and frenzying. He made a hole in the ambush enough for their escape to the nearby clearing, at his own life's cost.
  
  The rest gathered weapons ready, Ulf communed with the local spirits, the clearing was not as it seemed. They stood on a frozen river obscured by snow. As he began to relay the information, Golgol took a spear to his back. Coughing his last heart’s drop onto Ulf’s face. The world began to turn red. The last sight he saw were the other 2 being pressed back out of the clearing and fomori and garou closing their distance to him.
  
  He awoke to other 2 garou, who told him what had happened. He finished his communion with the spirits, they had felt the gnosis reverberate through the ice. Having only barely escaped they told that the water ripped the ice, the turned and tumbled the aggressors into the icy depths. Ulf stood there, eyes white, at the eye of the chaos as further and further out the water cracked the ice and pulled them under.
  
  They hailed it as a victory, but it was hollow to Ulf. He was named “Stíga Élivágar” He who walks the icy waves. A pale victory in his eyes. His thoughts to what deal had been stuck with the torrent. What gaes he’d been charged in his frenzy. He awoke to a raven on his chest, he knew this raven as “Hrafen” totem of wisdom, Golgol had avidly followed him. He charged with his new duty, to take his ban and serve. He knew this from his deal, he took it without question.
  
  He went to train with a Sept in the heart of Europe. It was a Sept of Child of Gaia and Red Talon, to teach more human ways. There were other Fenrir their but many came and went. Ulf stayed, tending wounds and spirits. A grey maned Godi, came through, one called “Crescent bled tears”. They spoke in length, for days. Debating the world, a Godi’s place in it, and spirits. Shortly after his time with the godi and the Children, he left for his homeland again. He returned, wiser for it, with a better outlook of his place on Gaia.
  
  He back to his people and challenged for Fostern.
  
  He was given a challenge to create a weapon to aid the Sep, proving his loyalty to the people and the nation.
  
  A raven followed him, he knew. He watch and was pointed to who must aid. Many cliath asked for various things, he turned them away. He looked them over for the quiet one in the back as directed, the omega, a ragabash. Not a metis, but certainly the runt of the litter. Asking what they wanted, the ire in the eyes of the others weighed little on Ulf. It was clear what the spirit was asking without words needed.
  
  “What do you want?” Ulf asked the omega.
  
  “N-Nothing. Give it to the Modi!” The omega cried. The eyes of the other filling with Ire.
  
  “What do you need?” Ulf asked, undeterred.
  
  “I do not need anything, you’ll get me in trouble! Give it to the Skalds” The Omega, fearing for himself, shaking his head.
  
  “Heh. See he’s weak! Give it to me! Make me a blade!” The Modi exclaimed!
  
  “No! Give it me to me! It should be something the protects! A shield!” The Skald yelled.
  
  Looking to the Ragabash. “Follow me.” Give a slight snarl as the others tried to impress themselves.
  
  When away from them. “You are weak.”
  
  The omega winced, “You called on me to tell me that? I know this! I’ve heard it all my life!” He turned to hide his shame.
  
  “Yes. You have heard it plenty. So much that you believe. I will make a blade. So it will be strong. It will make it wielder strong. I will make it protect. And he who wields will protect their entire pack. But only someone ‘weak’ may wield.”
  
  “Your pack here see you as Omega. Bear with pride! You are the lowest of them, raising you up, raises them up. See? You are “their worst”, so if you become great they become greater.”
  
  “You are a Son of Fenrir! Greatest of all Wolves! You carry his blood. I would happily take you over an army of warders. You may be as they say, the worst of them here. But you are still best of garou, your blood calls to this.” He watched as he stirred the omega, slowly turning to look Ulf over. Confirm this was not some elaborate prank.
  
  Hrafn flew to his shoulder, whispering in his ear. “Climb the peak. Find the fern, free from earth. Do not eat till you return. Oh, Take his necklace.”
  
  He said nothing of the gaes and the Omega looked rather confused. “I need you necklace. It is the price to pay.” A simple cord with worked wood centerpiece. The omega looked it over briefly with a tinge of sadness before relenting it.
  
  Ulf turned to his journey. He travelled to the peak, looking up to the branches above for Hrafn denoting the path. For days he travelled through the hills and up the spire. Finally nearing the top, he bed down in a cave. That night, Hrafn cawed till he woke. It was then as the moonlight had entered the cave he saw carving shimmer in the moonlight, ritual symbols. They all pointed to a blot basin.
  
  There he found a fern, growing with no dirt of the moisture of the cave, wiggling its roots in the cracks of the rocks. He placed the necklace in the basin. The leather burst into flames. A small shimmer of light came whizzing into the cave. Its colors danced a myriad of hues. It was clearly umbral bound, a Bragir.
  
  Hrafn said to tell the tale of the omega. Ulf obliged. The bragir spurred and sputtered for a moment. Finally it whizzed down to the blot in some sort of agreement. Hrafn spoke its ban; This blade cannot harm. It can only be held be the weak.
  
  Odd circumstance for the blade but Ulf paid it no mind. The fern formed into a short blade, the Bragir coalesced into form, the necklace piece formed the pommel. Ulf spoke the name with thought of his own; “The last chain”
  
  His vision blurred. Coming from only one side. A series of caws almost like a cackle.
  
  “Do you trust me Ulf to provide for you?”
  
  “Yes Rhya.” He replied quickly, wanting desperately to touch his face but thought against it.
  
  “I will take what I need and give what you need.”
  
  He blinked. His eye shut. Both opened, one staring back up at him from the blot. He stared back seeing Hrafn perched on the side of the blot. His eyes closed again. Opening again, to only one, the other only darkness. The world around him had shifted. Catching his bearings, he was at the base of the range, nearly a few hours run away from the Sept.
  He finished his trials. Handing the blade in kind. Though his peers thought less of him for his decision to not help them, he was praised but the elders to him. He was accepted by the nation and recognized for his trial with Fostern.
  
  His first night the vision began. A strange small fishing village was seen in his future, though he knew not how or when.