NAME. Thora Hilde
AGE & BIRTH DATE. 29 & October 11, 2995
GENDER & PRONOUNS. Cisfemale & She/Her
NATIONALITY. Iskaran
SPECIES. Faiman
FACTION. Warrior's Guild
OCCUPATION. Blademaster
FACE CLAIM. Jeon Yeo-Been
Sometimes tragedy was inescapable, and when tragedy hit a small settlement in the form of an orc, an infant no older than a year was found beneath a destroyed house. It had to be assumed that her parents had been chased of or worse–devoured. And by the carnage strewn it was likely the latter. The child wailed, injured upon being pulled from the remnants of her mountain home. The couple that found her put their all into her recovery. Battered and shaken themselves, the shock of survival combined with the crying little girl thrust in their care made it easy to miss the peculiar way her ears curled. Eventually the child settled and they had time to process all that had happened. She was innocent, yet bore a mark of potential misfortune. At first the couple were unsure what they were to do, however when the child next awoke and looked up at them, what they saw was innocence and love. The baby had no one, so now they had to make sure she had them. They left the harsh environment of the Highlands and took the baby with them, calling her daughter outright even if the sight of her ears occasionally made them wary.
Thora they called her, to honor the thunderous set of lungs that helped alert her parents to her aid beneath debris. She didn’t look like them, and eventually, they did tell her of the night their family came together, but to Thora her parents were her everything. For a time, the things that made her different caused no issues. She had no apparent talent for spellcraft and her mishappen ears could be easily covered by her hair. It was important, Thora’s parents taught her, to never let anyone see what they look like. She was ridiculed enough by her neighbors when she forgot so that as she grew she always remembered to pull her hair over her ears when she was around other people. Besides her ears, Thora thought of herself as ordinary as any other child in Iskaldrik.
That was until childish mischief taught her a lesson about who she was and who she had to be. Stories of terrible witches thrilled and terrified her, so when a a group of children began to wonder if the creepy, scary old crone who lived in the forest was a witch it became all they could talk about. Eventually, they had to go see for themselves. They threw pebbles at the windows of her house, dared each other to knock on the door and run, and even screamed “witch” at the top of their lungs while they hid in the bushes. Nothing they did got any reaction from the house until they went into the garden and began kicking up the plants there. Almost immediately the elderly woman came out to chase Thora and the others away with her rake. Like any children, they treated it like a game. Running around and taunting her, they dodged the swings of her garden tool while screaming about not wanting to be turned bugs. To them, it was all fun until the woman managed to grab Thora. Her friends all became terrified in an instant, not because they feared what would come of Thora. Not at all. The woman almost immediately fell to her knees seemingly unable to move at all. She clung to Thora’s wrist until she passed out and all the children ran away. Except Thora was faster than any of them. By the time she realized she was already bounding for joy back to home, excited to show off what she could do. Leaping through her neighborhood with bubbly joy well before any of the other children managed to get back, Thora was bursting with an energy that brought nothing but horror to her parent’s faces.
The way her mother screamed, the force her father used to strike her, the pain she felt at being called evil by the people she loved the most were all etched into her memory that day. Though they soon apologized once they calmed, a wall was put up between them that Thora never quite let down despite forgiving them. She understood that she may have been their family, she wasn’t actually their daughter. A power coursed through her veins, something vile and evil. Yet she yearned to feel it once more. The memory of her parent’s reprimand was seared into her, but so was the feeling of power coursing through her veins. She was young and couldn’t quite understand what had happened. She even went back to see if the elderly woman had seen anything, but the house had clearly been abandoned by the time Thora returned. Instead the conflicting feelings of curiosity and hatred regarded the surge of power she felt that day led to her resenting the magic she’d been born with. And then one day, she wanted to stop hating herself.
Thora knew she couldn’t do that with parents who didn’t understand her. They loved her and she loved them, but a mother who always fretted over her long hair properly hiding her ears and a father who sometimes reached for his knife whenever she drew near could never truly accept her. After that day, they pretended like their daughter hadn’t come home practically glowing. The topic was never discussed again, leaving Thora to wrestle with her complicated feelings alone through her adolescence. She was a teenager when she left home to find her own path. She managed to write home when she could, but she was determined to not come home until she could hold her head high and embrace all that she was. It was tough on her own, and though she could take care of herself she’d never had to survive before. That drive taught her to hone her senses and hunt for her meals, and it was the sight of her covered in the blood of a deer she’d taken down with a stake she carved herself that caught the eye of the Recruiter for a branch of Warrior’s Guild. He didn’t know her or her story, yet the boundless depth of her turmoil reached him. He didn’t offer Thora any solutions to what she felt, merely an outlet to channel her strife. She accepted, leaving behind everything she was in the forest that day to become something more.
The training was grueling, and beneath the direct tutelage of an officer, expectations were even higher. The effort to simply get in was insurmountable, and she was told over and over that life after her Initiate days would be even more tiresome. But her training forged resilience, and with that resilience came strength. Every strike of the blade was backed by the storm brewing beneath Thora’s surface. Her frustration, her self–loathing, her impatience, and even her overwhelming sadness. She was taught how to turn those feelings into power in combat until she no longer needed to rely on her emotions to be victorious. Through her years of training and traveling, Thora has learned a lot about magic and how her body responds to it. She’s come to understand more about her capabilities as a halfblood and is able to embrace not being human. But most importantly, she achieved greatness as a warrior and was given the title Blademaster, the proof of which was marked on the hilt of her sword.
After many years and many battles, she decided she was ready to see her parents once more. For two days, Thora was able to reconnect with them and spend time with them in peace. And then she saw the sky fall, turning their lives upside down forever. Aetheron attacked, her nation fell, and Thora chose to protect her parents and their neighbors in the calamity instead of facing down the dangers with her blade. She didn't fear death in battle, but she couldn't abandon those she loved for selfish glory. Instead, she vowed to see her parents safe. After that, she'd unless this newly burning fury on all those who brought harm to Iskaldrik.
+ Fearless, Resilient, Resourceful
– Spiteful, Relentless, Inflexible
played by zenmichael. est. he/him.
