https://pathfinder.peeblesclan.com/api.php?action=feedcontributions&feedformat=atom&user=BjornGames Day - User contributions [en]2026-06-29T21:39:29ZUser contributionsMediaWiki 1.45.3https://pathfinder.peeblesclan.com/index.php?title=Malus_Nightborn&diff=1180Malus Nightborn2026-06-07T18:42:04Z<p>Bjorn: </p>
<hr />
<div>[[File:Malus.jpg|center|center|center|750px]]<br />
<br />
Malus Nightborn is a 5'10" 190 lbs Zabreki Nightbrother born at a Nightsister Fortress on Dathomir in the year 275 ABY. Malus is a force sensitive, having been born to the Nightsister Mother Wicca, A witch of the Nightfall coven, a clan Nightsisters within the Bone Keepers Sect. Growing up among the dangers of Dathomir is never easy, but is doubly so when born as a Nightbrother beholden to a traditionalist witches coven as Bone Keepers are. This environment during his formative years was exasperated even further by the fact that Malus's skin is a dark smokey grey, a color typically only found on females, albeit a much lighter shade. As a result Malus grew up constantly being challenged, not only by the witches as is typical in Dathomiri society, but also by his fellow Nightbrothers, who saw him as an easy target for ridicule. <br />
With this type of upbringing it is only natural that Malus grew up fighting. either in the training grounds of the arena as all males had to, or against his fellow Nightbrothers in personal fights. This is not to say Malus was unbeatable, indeed he lost his fair share of these fights. Of course this was not acceptable for Wicca. His mother expected more from a son of hers, so she took it upon herself to, at night not so much train Malus in the ways of Dathomir force magic, but more like indoctrinate him into it. All the while constantly reminding him of his place, driving it into him that he may be being trained in the craft of the Nightsisters, but he will never be anything but a mere male, and never hold any position in their society beyond an assassin. She drove him mercilessly, testing him constantly, pushing him beyond his limits to expand those limits out even further. This of course had the desired affect she wanted, as with his natural fighting ability and practice at it, coupled now with his new force abilities, Malus started asserting his dominance over his fellow Nightbrothers, to the point that before long, none of them dared ridicule or disrespect him anymore.<br />
When Malus was 10 years old, the Mothers of Dathomir sent word to the witches covens, the most talented force sensitive younglings from each village where to gather at the grand arena to see if any were worthy of further training as assassins of the Night Mothers. During the tests Malus excelled thanks to Wicca's teaching until eventually the testing came down to a trial of ritual combat between the 10 strongest disciples. Again here thanks to Wicca's intense training, he excelled, easily besting each opponent he faced until only he remained. With this Malus's road to higher instruction was sealed.<br />
For 5 years Malus toiled and suffered under the Night Mothers "Instruction" in addition to the training he received in higher force abilities, Malus was always tortured to make him stronger, always given the worse of conditions to deal with and live in to prepare him for anything his future tasks for the mothers might require of him. For 5 years he endured this, and for 5 year it did make him stronger, able to endure most anything mentally. But the Mothers did better than they expected, instead of making him stronger, they actually tempered him, each day his mind becoming more and more fixated on the idea of freedom, where no one tells him what to do, even if he has to live in squaller at least it would be his squaller. Finally one night Malus escaped the Night mothers cruelty, running away into the mountains of Dathomir, for 5 weeks he traveled in the wilds, living off the land, killing any predator looking to make him a meal, until one morning as the sun burned off the fog in a mountain valley, an ancient edifice was reveal. an old forgotten temple.<br />
Glad for a place to call home and shelter, Malus started exploring the temple, discovering it was an ancient temple from back in the old republic days, with Sith artifacts and relics located within, and in the back of the temple a single crumpled skeleton in black robes. For 6 months Malus lived in this temple, cleaning it of the dust, using the balance poles in the training area to continue his own training. This was done after he created a sarcophagus of heavy stone as best he could, in which he placed the remains he found giving them a proper burial. The one thing he noticed was as time went on especially after the remains were interred were strange happenings seem to take place, odd noises in other rooms, things seeming to move to other places, and even soft disembodied voices just loud enough to make you wonder if you really heard them.<br />
Finally after this 6 months Malus woke up in the night, his chamber light by a soft bluish green light. Upon rolling over Malus found himself staring at the source of strange happenings, a semi transparent figure, in a hooded robe and a Sith beathing mask, his body slowly dissipating to nothing from the waist down to the knees so he hovered over the floor. This was Darth Pestilence an ancient Sith of the old republic age, and whom the skeleton was of. A being of pure evil who's own master once tried to prepare him for life transference to steal his body, he now saw a promising candidate to take over himself, to live once again and to spread his power through the galaxy. Pestilence was no fool though, he proffered a honey tongue, thanking Malus for the respectful handling of his remains, and the pleasure he derived from watching him practice, even offering to help Malus and train him in the knowledge he learned millennia ago.<br />
What Darth Pestilence didn't take into consideration was Malus's upbringing, for those 5 years with the Mothers, he was weened on deceit, and fed on lies, he was a young man not easily fooled or deceived. But here also was a chance to do what he love most, to learn more about the force, to practice it, and learn its secrets. Malus agreed willing to take the chance for true learning, but determined to be ever watchful and weary. And for 10 years Malus trained under the force ghost, enduring grueling tasks that sharpened his mind and body. But unlike the mothers, the tasks were not cruel, just dangerous and hard. Such as stealing back into the camps of the very night sisters that wanted his head for running away to steal items and parts needed to repair Pestilence's Fury-class Imperial interceptor. This Pestilence intended to use once he took over Malus's body. When Malus's training was almost done Darth Pestilence gave him 1 final task, one final trip into the Night sisters camp, this time the most dangerous of all, to steal into their most guarded temples to steal a Kyber crystal to construct his own lightsaber, and to get the herbs and minerals needed for his last test of Sith Alchemy.<br />
These things Malus did, returning with all the required materials. With these he created a saber of his own design that he named The Nightsaber, and for the Alchemy test he created a staff, an unconventional choice but good for helping him pass as a none warrior force user, this staff he consecrated the Staff of Woe, and although it has no special powers beyond being a staff, it is able to block incoming lightsaber attacks, as well as deflect and redirect blaster bolts in much the same way a lightsaber does thanks to its Sith alchemical treatment.<br />
Finally after 10 years of training Darth Pestilence deemed Malus ready for possession and destruction so he could live again. Again Darth Pestilence did not take into account Malus's initial training under the Night Mothers, masters of death magic and sorceries, centuries of practice raising the dead and dealing with them as armies. And it was this training Malus called upon. No where near powerful enough to truly defeat a force ghost of Pestilences' power, Malus was however able to use his knowledge to defend himself to block Pestilences attempts to subvert control over his body and to take him as his own. It was the most dire test of Malus's abilities he had ever faces in his 25 years of life, a running battle to defend himself from Pestilence all the while fortifying his mind and soul, to keep him out as he struggled to get to his once chance of survival, the Fury-class Imperial interceptor they had restored. But this he did, able to escape with nothing more than his robes and staff. With no time to grab it, his new Lightsaber left behind. Malus sealed the hatch to the ship Pestilence close on his heels as he fired up the engines, gunning them as quickly as he could lifting off up and out of the temple, Pestilences' screams of agony and fury ringing in his ears as he left the boundaries of the temple and Pestilence unable to leave the grounds got pulled back out of the ship, right through the hull, venting his rage for no one to hear as he was alone again.<br />
Now Malus roams the galaxy, beholden to none, his thirst for knowledge driving him to constantly roam and explore. Searching for more Artifacts be they the old artifacts of the Jedi or the Sith matters not to him. His goal, total knowledge of the force. <br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">'''THE CODE OF MALUS NIGHTBORN'''</div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> There is no light or dark,<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> There is only the force.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> There is no good or evil,<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> There is only knowledge.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> I am neither self destructive Sith,<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> Manipulative Nightsister,<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> Or self righteous Jedi.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> I am something in between.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> I am Malus, I am myself.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">'''THE NIGHTSABRE'''</div><br />
<br />
[[File:Nightsaber.jpg]] <br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> A Nightsaber is a lightsaber design created by Malus Nightborn. It is his signature saber that he always carries. <br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;"> <br />
The design of the Nightsaber is actually relatively simple. It consists of a double bladed lightsaber hilt that is actually 2 identical individual lightsaber hilts that are connected at their hilt ends by maglocks that twist and lock in place. This allows the user to wield it 4 different ways. With the hilts connected to either wield as a 2 handed lightsaber, or igniting both blades and wielding it as a double bladed lightsaber. Conversely it can be wielded with the handles disconnected from one another to dual wield or singly. An added feature to the saber is at the saber end of each handle, are 2 vents that can ignite into smaller lightsaber cross guards. This can be employed when the sabers are wielded, either disconnected, or connects with a single blade ignited like a 2 handed saber.<br />
The Sabers themselves are assembled using an A-45 style quantum power core at the base of each hilt, that is connected to a Czerka style multi-phase plasma emitter further up the handle. This allows the power to flow directly from the core to ignite the plasma emitter that then focuses its beam up through the tri facet Kyber crystal chamber that is located between the cross guards to allow the saber to extend out of the hilt, as well as to extend the cross guard emissions.<br />
<br />
[[File:Fury.jpg|center|center|center|750px]]<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> '''The Black Ark''' <br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: Left;"><br />
Taken from the ancient Sith temple that was the dwelling place of Pestilence's force spirit on Dathomir, the ship Malus used to escape both the vengeful force spirt and the planet itself is a 4,250 year old Sith Fury-class Imperial Interceptor that was used by Pestilence during the Great Galactic War and its resultant Cold War during his living life time.<br />
This ship now acts as his personal base of operations, a reliable ship he has rechristened "The Black Ark". Even though the ships weapons systems are nonfunctional at this time, with this ship Malus is able to travel the galaxy, pursuing his obsession of learning all he can about the force and its mysteries, collecting ancient artifacts, both Jedi and Sith, safe guarding them on his ship to study and learn from.<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">'''Key Specs:'''<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">'''Length:''' 100 meters.<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">'''Width:''' 88 meters.<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">'''Height:''' 33 meters.<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">'''Maximum Atmospheric Speed:''' 1,200 km/h.<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">'''Hyperdrive Rating:''' Class 1.<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">'''Crew Capacity:''' Designed for a crew of up to 15, but it requires a minimal crew of just 1 to fly.<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">'''Mobile Base:''' Includes the bridge, captain’s quarters, a conference room, crew quarters, and an on-board medbay with a bacta tank.<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">'''Communications:''' Features advanced, pangalactic holo-conferencing suites.</div>Bjornhttps://pathfinder.peeblesclan.com/index.php?title=Malus_Nightborn&diff=1179Malus Nightborn2026-06-07T04:55:05Z<p>Bjorn: </p>
<hr />
<div>[[File:Malus.jpg|center|center|center|750px]]<br />
<br />
Malus Nightborn is a 5'10" 190 lbs Zabreki Nightbrother born at a Nightsister Fortress on Dathomir in the year 275 ABY. Malus is a force sensitive, having been born to the Nightsister Mother Wicca, A witch of the Nightfall coven, a clan Nightsisters within the Bone Keepers Sect. Growing up among the dangers of Dathomir is never easy, but is doubly so when born as a Nightbrother beholden to a traditionalist witches coven as Bone Keepers are. This environment during his formative years was exasperated even further by the fact that Malus's skin is a dark smokey grey, a color typically only found on females, albeit a much lighter shade. As a result Malus grew up constantly being challenged, not only by the witches as is typical in Dathomiri society, but also by his fellow Nightbrothers, who saw him as an easy target for ridicule. <br />
With this type of upbringing it is only natural that Malus grew up fighting. either in the training grounds of the arena as all males had to, or against his fellow Nightbrothers in personal fights. This is not to say Malus was unbeatable, indeed he lost his fair share of these fights. Of course this was not acceptable for Wicca. His mother expected more from a son of hers, so she took it upon herself to, at night not so much train Malus in the ways of Dathomir force magic, but more like indoctrinate him into it. All the while constantly reminding him of his place, driving it into him that he may be being trained in the craft of the Nightsisters, but he will never be anything but a mere male, and never hold any position in their society beyond an assassin. She drove him mercilessly, testing him constantly, pushing him beyond his limits to expand those limits out even further. This of course had the desired affect she wanted, as with his natural fighting ability and practice at it, coupled now with his new force abilities, Malus started asserting his dominance over his fellow Nightbrothers, to the point that before long, none of them dared ridicule or disrespect him anymore.<br />
When Malus was 10 years old, the Mothers of Dathomir sent word to the witches covens, the most talented force sensitive younglings from each village where to gather at the grand arena to see if any were worthy of further training as assassins of the Night Mothers. During the tests Malus excelled thanks to Wicca's teaching until eventually the testing came down to a trial of ritual combat between the 10 strongest disciples. Again here thanks to Wicca's intense training, he excelled, easily besting each opponent he faced until only he remained. With this Malus's road to higher instruction was sealed.<br />
For 5 years Malus toiled and suffered under the Night Mothers "Instruction" in addition to the training he received in higher force abilities, Malus was always tortured to make him stronger, always given the worse of conditions to deal with and live in to prepare him for anything his future tasks for the mothers might require of him. For 5 years he endured this, and for 5 year it did make him stronger, able to endure most anything mentally. But the Mothers did better than they expected, instead of making him stronger, they actually tempered him, each day his mind becoming more and more fixated on the idea of freedom, where no one tells him what to do, even if he has to live in squaller at least it would be his squaller. Finally one night Malus escaped the Night mothers cruelty, running away into the mountains of Dathomir, for 5 weeks he traveled in the wilds, living off the land, killing any predator looking to make him a meal, until one morning as the sun burned off the fog in a mountain valley, an ancient edifice was reveal. an old forgotten temple.<br />
Glad for a place to call home and shelter, Malus started exploring the temple, discovering it was an ancient temple from back in the old republic days, with Sith artifacts and relics located within, and in the back of the temple a single crumpled skeleton in black robes. For 6 months Malus lived in this temple, cleaning it of the dust, using the balance poles in the training area to continue his own training. This was done after he created a sarcophagus of heavy stone as best he could, in which he placed the remains he found giving them a proper burial. The one thing he noticed was as time went on especially after the remains were interred were strange happenings seem to take place, odd noises in other rooms, things seeming to move to other places, and even soft disembodied voices just loud enough to make you wonder if you really heard them.<br />
Finally after this 6 months Malus woke up in the night, his chamber light by a soft bluish green light. Upon rolling over Malus found himself staring at the source of strange happenings, a semi transparent figure, in a hooded robe and a Sith beathing mask, his body slowly dissipating to nothing from the waist down to the knees so he hovered over the floor. This was Darth Pestilence an ancient Sith of the old republic age, and whom the skeleton was of. A being of pure evil who's own master once tried to prepare him for life transference to steal his body, he now saw a promising candidate to take over himself, to live once again and to spread his power through the galaxy. Pestilence was no fool though, he proffered a honey tongue, thanking Malus for the respectful handling of his remains, and the pleasure he derived from watching him practice, even offering to help Malus and train him in the knowledge he learned millennia ago.<br />
What Darth Pestilence didn't take into consideration was Malus's upbringing, for those 5 years with the Mothers, he was weened on deceit, and fed on lies, he was a young man not easily fooled or deceived. But here also was a chance to do what he love most, to learn more about the force, to practice it, and learn its secrets. Malus agreed willing to take the chance for true learning, but determined to be ever watchful and weary. And for 10 years Malus trained under the force ghost, enduring grueling tasks that sharpened his mind and body. But unlike the mothers, the tasks were not cruel, just dangerous and hard. Such as stealing back into the camps of the very night sisters that wanted his head for running away to steal items and parts needed to repair Pestilence's Fury-class Imperial interceptor. This Pestilence intended to use once he took over Malus's body. When Malus's training was almost done Darth Pestilence gave him 1 final task, one final trip into the Night sisters camp, this time the most dangerous of all, to steal into their most guarded temples to steal a Kyber crystal to construct his own lightsaber, and to get the herbs and minerals needed for his last test of Sith Alchemy.<br />
These things Malus did, returning with all the required materials. With these he created a saber of his own design that he named The Nightsaber, and for the Alchemy test he created a staff, an unconventional choice but good for helping him pass as a none warrior force user, this staff he consecrated the Staff of Woe, and although it has no special powers beyond being a staff, it is able to block incoming lightsaber attacks, as well as deflect and redirect blaster bolts in much the same way a lightsaber does thanks to its Sith alchemical treatment.<br />
Finally after 10 years of training Darth Pestilence deemed Malus ready for possession and destruction so he could live again. Again Darth Pestilence did not take into account Malus's initial training under the Night Mothers, masters of death magic and sorceries, centuries of practice raising the dead and dealing with them as armies. And it was this training Malus called upon. No where near powerful enough to truly defeat a force ghost of Pestilences' power, Malus was however able to use his knowledge to defend himself to block Pestilences attempts to subvert control over his body and to take him as his own. It was the most dire test of Malus's abilities he had ever faces in his 25 years of life, a running battle to defend himself from Pestilence all the while fortifying his mind and soul, to keep him out as he struggled to get to his once chance of survival, the Fury-class Imperial interceptor they had restored. But this he did, able to escape with nothing more than his robes and staff. With no time to grab it, his new Lightsaber left behind. Malus sealed the hatch to the ship Pestilence close on his heels as he fired up the engines, gunning them as quickly as he could lifting off up and out of the temple, Pestilences' screams of agony and fury ringing in his ears as he left the boundaries of the temple and Pestilence unable to leave the grounds got pulled back out of the ship, right through the hull, venting his rage for no one to hear as he was alone again.<br />
Now Malus roams the galaxy, beholden to none, his thirst for knowledge driving him to constantly roam and explore. Searching for more Artifacts be they the old artifacts of the Jedi or the Sith matters not to him. His goal, total knowledge of the force. <br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">'''THE CODE OF MALUS NIGHTBORN'''</div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> There is no light or dark,<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> There is only the force.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> There is no good or evil,<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> There is only knowledge.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> I am neither self destructive Sith,<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> Manipulative Nightsister,<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> Or self righteous Jedi.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> I am something in between.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> I am Malus, I am myself.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">'''THE NIGHTSABRE'''</div><br />
<br />
[[File:Nightsaber.jpg]] <br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> A Nightsaber is a lightsaber design created by Malus Nightborn. It is his signature saber that he always carries. <br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;"> <br />
The design of the Nightsaber is actually relatively simple. It consists of a double bladed lightsaber hilt that is actually 2 identical individual lightsaber hilts that are connected at their hilt ends by maglocks that twist and lock in place. This allows the user to wield it 4 different ways. With the hilts connected to either wield as a 2 handed lightsaber, or igniting both blades and wielding it as a double bladed lightsaber. Conversely it can be wielded with the handles disconnected from one another to dual wield or singly. An added feature to the saber is at the saber end of each handle, are 2 vents that can ignite into smaller lightsaber cross guards. This can be employed when the sabers are wielded, either disconnected, or connects with a single blade ignited like a 2 handed saber.<br />
The Sabers themselves are assembled using an A-45 style quantum power core at the base of each hilt, that is connected to a Czerka style multi-phase plasma emitter further up the handle. This allows the power to flow directly from the core to ignite the plasma emitter that then focuses its beam up through the tri facet Kyber crystal chamber that is located between the cross guards to allow the saber to extend out of the hilt, as well as to extend the cross guard emissions.<br />
<br />
[[File:Fury.jpg|center|center|center|750px]]<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> '''The Black Ark''' <br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">'''Key Specs:'''<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">'''Length:''' 100 meters.<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">'''Width:''' 88 meters.<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">'''Height:''' 33 meters.<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">'''Maximum Atmospheric Speed:''' 1,200 km/h.<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">'''Hyperdrive Rating:''' Class 1.<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">'''Crew Capacity:''' Designed for a crew of up to 15, but it requires a minimal crew of just 1 to fly.<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">'''Mobile Base:''' Includes the bridge, captain’s quarters, a conference room, crew quarters, and an on-board medbay with a bacta tank.<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">'''Communications:''' Features advanced, pangalactic holo-conferencing suites.</div>Bjornhttps://pathfinder.peeblesclan.com/index.php?title=File:Fury.jpg&diff=1178File:Fury.jpg2026-06-07T04:52:57Z<p>Bjorn: </p>
<hr />
<div></div>Bjornhttps://pathfinder.peeblesclan.com/index.php?title=Malus_Nightborn&diff=1177Malus Nightborn2026-06-07T04:52:31Z<p>Bjorn: </p>
<hr />
<div>[[File:Malus.jpg|center|center|center|750px]]<br />
<br />
Malus Nightborn is a 5'10" 190 lbs Zabreki Nightbrother born at a Nightsister Fortress on Dathomir in the year 275 ABY. Malus is a force sensitive, having been born to the Nightsister Mother Wicca, A witch of the Nightfall coven, a clan Nightsisters within the Bone Keepers Sect. Growing up among the dangers of Dathomir is never easy, but is doubly so when born as a Nightbrother beholden to a traditionalist witches coven as Bone Keepers are. This environment during his formative years was exasperated even further by the fact that Malus's skin is a dark smokey grey, a color typically only found on females, albeit a much lighter shade. As a result Malus grew up constantly being challenged, not only by the witches as is typical in Dathomiri society, but also by his fellow Nightbrothers, who saw him as an easy target for ridicule. <br />
With this type of upbringing it is only natural that Malus grew up fighting. either in the training grounds of the arena as all males had to, or against his fellow Nightbrothers in personal fights. This is not to say Malus was unbeatable, indeed he lost his fair share of these fights. Of course this was not acceptable for Wicca. His mother expected more from a son of hers, so she took it upon herself to, at night not so much train Malus in the ways of Dathomir force magic, but more like indoctrinate him into it. All the while constantly reminding him of his place, driving it into him that he may be being trained in the craft of the Nightsisters, but he will never be anything but a mere male, and never hold any position in their society beyond an assassin. She drove him mercilessly, testing him constantly, pushing him beyond his limits to expand those limits out even further. This of course had the desired affect she wanted, as with his natural fighting ability and practice at it, coupled now with his new force abilities, Malus started asserting his dominance over his fellow Nightbrothers, to the point that before long, none of them dared ridicule or disrespect him anymore.<br />
When Malus was 10 years old, the Mothers of Dathomir sent word to the witches covens, the most talented force sensitive younglings from each village where to gather at the grand arena to see if any were worthy of further training as assassins of the Night Mothers. During the tests Malus excelled thanks to Wicca's teaching until eventually the testing came down to a trial of ritual combat between the 10 strongest disciples. Again here thanks to Wicca's intense training, he excelled, easily besting each opponent he faced until only he remained. With this Malus's road to higher instruction was sealed.<br />
For 5 years Malus toiled and suffered under the Night Mothers "Instruction" in addition to the training he received in higher force abilities, Malus was always tortured to make him stronger, always given the worse of conditions to deal with and live in to prepare him for anything his future tasks for the mothers might require of him. For 5 years he endured this, and for 5 year it did make him stronger, able to endure most anything mentally. But the Mothers did better than they expected, instead of making him stronger, they actually tempered him, each day his mind becoming more and more fixated on the idea of freedom, where no one tells him what to do, even if he has to live in squaller at least it would be his squaller. Finally one night Malus escaped the Night mothers cruelty, running away into the mountains of Dathomir, for 5 weeks he traveled in the wilds, living off the land, killing any predator looking to make him a meal, until one morning as the sun burned off the fog in a mountain valley, an ancient edifice was reveal. an old forgotten temple.<br />
Glad for a place to call home and shelter, Malus started exploring the temple, discovering it was an ancient temple from back in the old republic days, with Sith artifacts and relics located within, and in the back of the temple a single crumpled skeleton in black robes. For 6 months Malus lived in this temple, cleaning it of the dust, using the balance poles in the training area to continue his own training. This was done after he created a sarcophagus of heavy stone as best he could, in which he placed the remains he found giving them a proper burial. The one thing he noticed was as time went on especially after the remains were interred were strange happenings seem to take place, odd noises in other rooms, things seeming to move to other places, and even soft disembodied voices just loud enough to make you wonder if you really heard them.<br />
Finally after this 6 months Malus woke up in the night, his chamber light by a soft bluish green light. Upon rolling over Malus found himself staring at the source of strange happenings, a semi transparent figure, in a hooded robe and a Sith beathing mask, his body slowly dissipating to nothing from the waist down to the knees so he hovered over the floor. This was Darth Pestilence an ancient Sith of the old republic age, and whom the skeleton was of. A being of pure evil who's own master once tried to prepare him for life transference to steal his body, he now saw a promising candidate to take over himself, to live once again and to spread his power through the galaxy. Pestilence was no fool though, he proffered a honey tongue, thanking Malus for the respectful handling of his remains, and the pleasure he derived from watching him practice, even offering to help Malus and train him in the knowledge he learned millennia ago.<br />
What Darth Pestilence didn't take into consideration was Malus's upbringing, for those 5 years with the Mothers, he was weened on deceit, and fed on lies, he was a young man not easily fooled or deceived. But here also was a chance to do what he love most, to learn more about the force, to practice it, and learn its secrets. Malus agreed willing to take the chance for true learning, but determined to be ever watchful and weary. And for 10 years Malus trained under the force ghost, enduring grueling tasks that sharpened his mind and body. But unlike the mothers, the tasks were not cruel, just dangerous and hard. Such as stealing back into the camps of the very night sisters that wanted his head for running away to steal items and parts needed to repair Pestilence's Fury-class Imperial interceptor. This Pestilence intended to use once he took over Malus's body. When Malus's training was almost done Darth Pestilence gave him 1 final task, one final trip into the Night sisters camp, this time the most dangerous of all, to steal into their most guarded temples to steal a Kyber crystal to construct his own lightsaber, and to get the herbs and minerals needed for his last test of Sith Alchemy.<br />
These things Malus did, returning with all the required materials. With these he created a saber of his own design that he named The Nightsaber, and for the Alchemy test he created a staff, an unconventional choice but good for helping him pass as a none warrior force user, this staff he consecrated the Staff of Woe, and although it has no special powers beyond being a staff, it is able to block incoming lightsaber attacks, as well as deflect and redirect blaster bolts in much the same way a lightsaber does thanks to its Sith alchemical treatment.<br />
Finally after 10 years of training Darth Pestilence deemed Malus ready for possession and destruction so he could live again. Again Darth Pestilence did not take into account Malus's initial training under the Night Mothers, masters of death magic and sorceries, centuries of practice raising the dead and dealing with them as armies. And it was this training Malus called upon. No where near powerful enough to truly defeat a force ghost of Pestilences' power, Malus was however able to use his knowledge to defend himself to block Pestilences attempts to subvert control over his body and to take him as his own. It was the most dire test of Malus's abilities he had ever faces in his 25 years of life, a running battle to defend himself from Pestilence all the while fortifying his mind and soul, to keep him out as he struggled to get to his once chance of survival, the Fury-class Imperial interceptor they had restored. But this he did, able to escape with nothing more than his robes and staff. With no time to grab it, his new Lightsaber left behind. Malus sealed the hatch to the ship Pestilence close on his heels as he fired up the engines, gunning them as quickly as he could lifting off up and out of the temple, Pestilences' screams of agony and fury ringing in his ears as he left the boundaries of the temple and Pestilence unable to leave the grounds got pulled back out of the ship, right through the hull, venting his rage for no one to hear as he was alone again.<br />
Now Malus roams the galaxy, beholden to none, his thirst for knowledge driving him to constantly roam and explore. Searching for more Artifacts be they the old artifacts of the Jedi or the Sith matters not to him. His goal, total knowledge of the force. <br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">'''THE CODE OF MALUS NIGHTBORN'''</div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> There is no light or dark,<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> There is only the force.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> There is no good or evil,<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> There is only knowledge.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> I am neither self destructive Sith,<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> Manipulative Nightsister,<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> Or self righteous Jedi.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> I am something in between.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> I am Malus, I am myself.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">'''THE NIGHTSABRE'''</div><br />
<br />
[[File:Nightsaber.jpg]] <br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> A Nightsaber is a lightsaber design created by Malus Nightborn. It is his signature saber that he always carries. <br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;"> <br />
The design of the Nightsaber is actually relatively simple. It consists of a double bladed lightsaber hilt that is actually 2 identical individual lightsaber hilts that are connected at their hilt ends by maglocks that twist and lock in place. This allows the user to wield it 4 different ways. With the hilts connected to either wield as a 2 handed lightsaber, or igniting both blades and wielding it as a double bladed lightsaber. Conversely it can be wielded with the handles disconnected from one another to dual wield or singly. An added feature to the saber is at the saber end of each handle, are 2 vents that can ignite into smaller lightsaber cross guards. This can be employed when the sabers are wielded, either disconnected, or connects with a single blade ignited like a 2 handed saber.<br />
The Sabers themselves are assembled using an A-45 style quantum power core at the base of each hilt, that is connected to a Czerka style multi-phase plasma emitter further up the handle. This allows the power to flow directly from the core to ignite the plasma emitter that then focuses its beam up through the tri facet Kyber crystal chamber that is located between the cross guards to allow the saber to extend out of the hilt, as well as to extend the cross guard emissions.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> '''The Black Ark''' <br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">'''Key Specs:'''<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">'''Length:''' 100 meters.<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">'''Width:''' 88 meters.<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">'''Height:''' 33 meters.<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">'''Maximum Atmospheric Speed:''' 1,200 km/h.<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">'''Hyperdrive Rating:''' Class 1.<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">'''Crew Capacity:''' Designed for a crew of up to 15, but it requires a minimal crew of just 1 to fly.<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">'''Mobile Base:''' Includes the bridge, captain’s quarters, a conference room, crew quarters, and an on-board medbay with a bacta tank.<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">'''Communications:''' Features advanced, pangalactic holo-conferencing suites.</div>Bjornhttps://pathfinder.peeblesclan.com/index.php?title=Malus_Nightborn&diff=1168Malus Nightborn2026-06-01T16:11:23Z<p>Bjorn: </p>
<hr />
<div>[[File:Malus.jpg|center|center|center|750px]]<br />
<br />
Malus Nightborn is a 5'10" 190 lbs Zabreki Nightbrother born at a Nightsister Fortress on Dathomir in the year 275 ABY. Malus is a force sensitive, having been born to the Nightsister Mother Wicca, A witch of the Nightfall coven, a clan Nightsisters within the Bone Keepers Sect. Growing up among the dangers of Dathomir is never easy, but is doubly so when born as a Nightbrother beholden to a traditionalist witches coven as Bone Keepers are. This environment during his formative years was exasperated even further by the fact that Malus's skin is a dark smokey grey, a color typically only found on females, albeit a much lighter shade. As a result Malus grew up constantly being challenged, not only by the witches as is typical in Dathomiri society, but also by his fellow Nightbrothers, who saw him as an easy target for ridicule. <br />
With this type of upbringing it is only natural that Malus grew up fighting. either in the training grounds of the arena as all males had to, or against his fellow Nightbrothers in personal fights. This is not to say Malus was unbeatable, indeed he lost his fair share of these fights. Of course this was not acceptable for Wicca. His mother expected more from a son of hers, so she took it upon herself to, at night not so much train Malus in the ways of Dathomir force magic, but more like indoctrinate him into it. All the while constantly reminding him of his place, driving it into him that he may be being trained in the craft of the Nightsisters, but he will never be anything but a mere male, and never hold any position in their society beyond an assassin. She drove him mercilessly, testing him constantly, pushing him beyond his limits to expand those limits out even further. This of course had the desired affect she wanted, as with his natural fighting ability and practice at it, coupled now with his new force abilities, Malus started asserting his dominance over his fellow Nightbrothers, to the point that before long, none of them dared ridicule or disrespect him anymore.<br />
When Malus was 10 years old, the Mothers of Dathomir sent word to the witches covens, the most talented force sensitive younglings from each village where to gather at the grand arena to see if any were worthy of further training as assassins of the Night Mothers. During the tests Malus excelled thanks to Wicca's teaching until eventually the testing came down to a trial of ritual combat between the 10 strongest disciples. Again here thanks to Wicca's intense training, he excelled, easily besting each opponent he faced until only he remained. With this Malus's road to higher instruction was sealed.<br />
For 5 years Malus toiled and suffered under the Night Mothers "Instruction" in addition to the training he received in higher force abilities, Malus was always tortured to make him stronger, always given the worse of conditions to deal with and live in to prepare him for anything his future tasks for the mothers might require of him. For 5 years he endured this, and for 5 year it did make him stronger, able to endure most anything mentally. But the Mothers did better than they expected, instead of making him stronger, they actually tempered him, each day his mind becoming more and more fixated on the idea of freedom, where no one tells him what to do, even if he has to live in squaller at least it would be his squaller. Finally one night Malus escaped the Night mothers cruelty, running away into the mountains of Dathomir, for 5 weeks he traveled in the wilds, living off the land, killing any predator looking to make him a meal, until one morning as the sun burned off the fog in a mountain valley, an ancient edifice was reveal. an old forgotten temple.<br />
Glad for a place to call home and shelter, Malus started exploring the temple, discovering it was an ancient temple from back in the old republic days, with Sith artifacts and relics located within, and in the back of the temple a single crumpled skeleton in black robes. For 6 months Malus lived in this temple, cleaning it of the dust, using the balance poles in the training area to continue his own training. This was done after he created a sarcophagus of heavy stone as best he could, in which he placed the remains he found giving them a proper burial. The one thing he noticed was as time went on especially after the remains were interred were strange happenings seem to take place, odd noises in other rooms, things seeming to move to other places, and even soft disembodied voices just loud enough to make you wonder if you really heard them.<br />
Finally after this 6 months Malus woke up in the night, his chamber light by a soft bluish green light. Upon rolling over Malus found himself staring at the source of strange happenings, a semi transparent figure, in a hooded robe and a Sith beathing mask, his body slowly dissipating to nothing from the waist down to the knees so he hovered over the floor. This was Darth Pestilence an ancient Sith of the old republic age, and whom the skeleton was of. A being of pure evil who's own master once tried to prepare him for life transference to steal his body, he now saw a promising candidate to take over himself, to live once again and to spread his power through the galaxy. Pestilence was no fool though, he proffered a honey tongue, thanking Malus for the respectful handling of his remains, and the pleasure he derived from watching him practice, even offering to help Malus and train him in the knowledge he learned millennia ago.<br />
What Darth Pestilence didn't take into consideration was Malus's upbringing, for those 5 years with the Mothers, he was weened on deceit, and fed on lies, he was a young man not easily fooled or deceived. But here also was a chance to do what he love most, to learn more about the force, to practice it, and learn its secrets. Malus agreed willing to take the chance for true learning, but determined to be ever watchful and weary. And for 10 years Malus trained under the force ghost, enduring grueling tasks that sharpened his mind and body. But unlike the mothers, the tasks were not cruel, just dangerous and hard. Such as stealing back into the camps of the very night sisters that wanted his head for running away to steal items and parts needed to repair Pestilence's Fury-class Imperial interceptor. This Pestilence intended to use once he took over Malus's body. When Malus's training was almost done Darth Pestilence gave him 1 final task, one final trip into the Night sisters camp, this time the most dangerous of all, to steal into their most guarded temples to steal a Kyber crystal to construct his own lightsaber, and to get the herbs and minerals needed for his last test of Sith Alchemy.<br />
These things Malus did, returning with all the required materials. With these he created a saber of his own design that he named The Nightsaber, and for the Alchemy test he created a staff, an unconventional choice but good for helping him pass as a none warrior force user, this staff he consecrated the Staff of Woe, and although it has no special powers beyond being a staff, it is able to block incoming lightsaber attacks, as well as deflect and redirect blaster bolts in much the same way a lightsaber does thanks to its Sith alchemical treatment.<br />
Finally after 10 years of training Darth Pestilence deemed Malus ready for possession and destruction so he could live again. Again Darth Pestilence did not take into account Malus's initial training under the Night Mothers, masters of death magic and sorceries, centuries of practice raising the dead and dealing with them as armies. And it was this training Malus called upon. No where near powerful enough to truly defeat a force ghost of Pestilences' power, Malus was however able to use his knowledge to defend himself to block Pestilences attempts to subvert control over his body and to take him as his own. It was the most dire test of Malus's abilities he had ever faces in his 25 years of life, a running battle to defend himself from Pestilence all the while fortifying his mind and soul, to keep him out as he struggled to get to his once chance of survival, the Fury-class Imperial interceptor they had restored. But this he did, able to escape with nothing more than his robes and staff. With no time to grab it, his new Lightsaber left behind. Malus sealed the hatch to the ship Pestilence close on his heels as he fired up the engines, gunning them as quickly as he could lifting off up and out of the temple, Pestilences' screams of agony and fury ringing in his ears as he left the boundaries of the temple and Pestilence unable to leave the grounds got pulled back out of the ship, right through the hull, venting his rage for no one to hear as he was alone again.<br />
Now Malus roams the galaxy, beholden to none, his thirst for knowledge driving him to constantly roam and explore. Searching for more Artifacts be they the old artifacts of the Jedi or the Sith matters not to him. His goal, total knowledge of the force. <br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">'''THE CODE OF MALUS NIGHTBORN'''</div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> There is no light or dark,<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> There is only the force.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> There is no good or evil,<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> There is only knowledge.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> I am neither self destructive Sith,<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> Manipulative Nightsister,<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> Or self righteous Jedi.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> I am something in between.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> I am Malus, I am myself.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">'''THE NIGHTSABRE'''</div><br />
<br />
[[File:Nightsaber.jpg]] <br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> A Nightsaber is a lightsaber design created by Malus Nightborn. It is his signature saber that he always carries. <br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;"> <br />
The design of the Nightsaber is actually relatively simple. It consists of a double bladed lightsaber hilt that is actually 2 identical individual lightsaber hilts that are connected at their hilt ends by maglocks that twist and lock in place. This allows the user to wield it 4 different ways. With the hilts connected to either wield as a 2 handed lightsaber, or igniting both blades and wielding it as a double bladed lightsaber. Conversely it can be wielded with the handles disconnected from one another to dual wield or singly. An added feature to the saber is at the saber end of each handle, are 2 vents that can ignite into smaller lightsaber cross guards. This can be employed when the sabers are wielded, either disconnected, or connects with a single blade ignited like a 2 handed saber.<br />
The Sabers themselves are assembled using an A-45 style quantum power core at the base of each hilt, that is connected to a Czerka style multi-phase plasma emitter further up the handle. This allows the power to flow directly from the core to ignite the plasma emitter that then focuses its beam up through the tri facet Kyber crystal chamber that is located between the cross guards to allow the saber to extend out of the hilt, as well as to extend the cross guard emissions.</div>Bjornhttps://pathfinder.peeblesclan.com/index.php?title=Malus_Nightborn&diff=1167Malus Nightborn2026-06-01T16:10:07Z<p>Bjorn: </p>
<hr />
<div>[[File:Malus.jpg|center|center|center|750px]]<br />
<br />
Malus Nightborn is a 5'10" 190 lbs Zabreki Nightbrother born at a Nightsister Fortress on Dathomir in the year 275 ABY. Malus is a force sensitive, having been born to the Mother Wicca, A witch of the Nightfall coven, a clan Nightsisters within the Bone Keepers Sect. Growing up among the dangers of Dathomir is never easy, but is doubly so when born as a Nightbrother beholden to a traditionalist witches coven as Bone Keepers are. This environment during his formative years was exasperated even further by the fact that Malus's skin is a dark smokey grey, a color typically only found on females, albeit a much lighter shade. As a result Malus grew up constantly being challenged, not only by the witches as is typical in Dathomiri society, but also by his fellow Nightbrothers, who saw him as an easy target for ridicule. <br />
With this type of upbringing it is only natural that Malus grew up fighting. either in the training grounds of the arena as all males had to, or against his fellow Nightbrothers in personal fights. This is not to say Malus was unbeatable, indeed he lost his fair share of these fights. Of course this was not acceptable for Wicca. His mother expected more from a son of hers, so she took it upon herself to, at night not so much train Malus in the ways of Dathomir force magic, but more like indoctrinate him into it. All the while constantly reminding him of his place, driving it into him that he may be being trained in the craft of the Nightsisters, but he will never be anything but a mere male, and never hold any position in their society beyond an assassin. She drove him mercilessly, testing him constantly, pushing him beyond his limits to expand those limits out even further. This of course had the desired affect she wanted, as with his natural fighting ability and practice at it, coupled now with his new force abilities, Malus started asserting his dominance over his fellow Nightbrothers, to the point that before long, none of them dared ridicule or disrespect him anymore.<br />
When Malus was 10 years old, the Mothers of Dathomir sent word to the witches covens, the most talented force sensitive younglings from each village where to gather at the grand arena to see if any were worthy of further training as assassins of the Night Mothers. During the tests Malus excelled thanks to Wicca's teaching until eventually the testing came down to a trial of ritual combat between the 10 strongest disciples. Again here thanks to Wicca's intense training, he excelled, easily besting each opponent he faced until only he remained. With this Malus's road to higher instruction was sealed.<br />
For 5 years Malus toiled and suffered under the Night Mothers "Instruction" in addition to the training he received in higher force abilities, Malus was always tortured to make him stronger, always given the worse of conditions to deal with and live in to prepare him for anything his future tasks for the mothers might require of him. For 5 years he endured this, and for 5 year it did make him stronger, able to endure most anything mentally. But the Mothers did better than they expected, instead of making him stronger, they actually tempered him, each day his mind becoming more and more fixated on the idea of freedom, where no one tells him what to do, even if he has to live in squaller at least it would be his squaller. Finally one night Malus escaped the Night mothers cruelty, running away into the mountains of Dathomir, for 5 weeks he traveled in the wilds, living off the land, killing any predator looking to make him a meal, until one morning as the sun burned off the fog in a mountain valley, an ancient edifice was reveal. an old forgotten temple.<br />
Glad for a place to call home and shelter, Malus started exploring the temple, discovering it was an ancient temple from back in the old republic days, with Sith artifacts and relics located within, and in the back of the temple a single crumpled skeleton in black robes. For 6 months Malus lived in this temple, cleaning it of the dust, using the balance poles in the training area to continue his own training. This was done after he created a sarcophagus of heavy stone as best he could, in which he placed the remains he found giving them a proper burial. The one thing he noticed was as time went on especially after the remains were interred were strange happenings seem to take place, odd noises in other rooms, things seeming to move to other places, and even soft disembodied voices just loud enough to make you wonder if you really heard them.<br />
Finally after this 6 months Malus woke up in the night, his chamber light by a soft bluish green light. Upon rolling over Malus found himself staring at the source of strange happenings, a semi transparent figure, in a hooded robe and a Sith beathing mask, his body slowly dissipating to nothing from the waist down to the knees so he hovered over the floor. This was Darth Pestilence an ancient Sith of the old republic age, and whom the skeleton was of. A being of pure evil who's own master once tried to prepare him for life transference to steal his body, he now saw a promising candidate to take over himself, to live once again and to spread his power through the galaxy. Pestilence was no fool though, he proffered a honey tongue, thanking Malus for the respectful handling of his remains, and the pleasure he derived from watching him practice, even offering to help Malus and train him in the knowledge he learned millennia ago.<br />
What Darth Pestilence didn't take into consideration was Malus's upbringing, for those 5 years with the Mothers, he was weened on deceit, and fed on lies, he was a young man not easily fooled or deceived. But here also was a chance to do what he love most, to learn more about the force, to practice it, and learn its secrets. Malus agreed willing to take the chance for true learning, but determined to be ever watchful and weary. And for 10 years Malus trained under the force ghost, enduring grueling tasks that sharpened his mind and body. But unlike the mothers, the tasks were not cruel, just dangerous and hard. Such as stealing back into the camps of the very night sisters that wanted his head for running away to steal items and parts needed to repair Pestilence's Fury-class Imperial interceptor. This Pestilence intended to use once he took over Malus's body. When Malus's training was almost done Darth Pestilence gave him 1 final task, one final trip into the Night sisters camp, this time the most dangerous of all, to steal into their most guarded temples to steal a Kyber crystal to construct his own lightsaber, and to get the herbs and minerals needed for his last test of Sith Alchemy.<br />
These things Malus did, returning with all the required materials. With these he created a saber of his own design that he named The Nightsaber, and for the Alchemy test he created a staff, an unconventional choice but good for helping him pass as a none warrior force user, this staff he consecrated the Staff of Woe, and although it has no special powers beyond being a staff, it is able to block incoming lightsaber attacks, as well as deflect and redirect blaster bolts in much the same way a lightsaber does thanks to its Sith alchemical treatment.<br />
Finally after 10 years of training Darth Pestilence deemed Malus ready for possession and destruction so he could live again. Again Darth Pestilence did not take into account Malus's initial training under the Night Mothers, masters of death magic and sorceries, centuries of practice raising the dead and dealing with them as armies. And it was this training Malus called upon. No where near powerful enough to truly defeat a force ghost of Pestilences' power, Malus was however able to use his knowledge to defend himself to block Pestilences attempts to subvert control over his body and to take him as his own. It was the most dire test of Malus's abilities he had ever faces in his 25 years of life, a running battle to defend himself from Pestilence all the while fortifying his mind and soul, to keep him out as he struggled to get to his once chance of survival, the Fury-class Imperial interceptor they had restored. But this he did, able to escape with nothing more than his robes and staff. With no time to grab it, his new Lightsaber left behind. Malus sealed the hatch to the ship Pestilence close on his heels as he fired up the engines, gunning them as quickly as he could lifting off up and out of the temple, Pestilences' screams of agony and fury ringing in his ears as he left the boundaries of the temple and Pestilence unable to leave the grounds got pulled back out of the ship, right through the hull, venting his rage for no one to hear as he was alone again.<br />
Now Malus roams the galaxy, beholden to none, his thirst for knowledge driving him to constantly roam and explore. Searching for more Artifacts be they the old artifacts of the Jedi or the Sith matters not to him. His goal, total knowledge of the force. <br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">'''THE CODE OF MALUS NIGHTBORN'''</div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> There is no light or dark,<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> There is only the force.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> There is no good or evil,<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> There is only knowledge.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> I am neither self destructive Sith,<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> Manipulative Nightsister,<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> Or self righteous Jedi.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> I am something in between.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> I am Malus, I am myself.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">'''THE NIGHTSABRE'''</div><br />
<br />
[[File:Nightsaber.jpg]] <br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> A Nightsaber is a lightsaber design created by Malus Nightborn. It is his signature saber that he always carries. <br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;"> <br />
The design of the Nightsaber is actually relatively simple. It consists of a double bladed lightsaber hilt that is actually 2 identical individual lightsaber hilts that are connected at their hilt ends by maglocks that twist and lock in place. This allows the user to wield it 4 different ways. With the hilts connected to either wield as a 2 handed lightsaber, or igniting both blades and wielding it as a double bladed lightsaber. Conversely it can be wielded with the handles disconnected from one another to dual wield or singly. An added feature to the saber is at the saber end of each handle, are 2 vents that can ignite into smaller lightsaber cross guards. This can be employed when the sabers are wielded, either disconnected, or connects with a single blade ignited like a 2 handed saber.<br />
The Sabers themselves are assembled using an A-45 style quantum power core at the base of each hilt, that is connected to a Czerka style multi-phase plasma emitter further up the handle. This allows the power to flow directly from the core to ignite the plasma emitter that then focuses its beam up through the tri facet Kyber crystal chamber that is located between the cross guards to allow the saber to extend out of the hilt, as well as to extend the cross guard emissions.</div>Bjornhttps://pathfinder.peeblesclan.com/index.php?title=Malus_Nightborn&diff=1166Malus Nightborn2026-06-01T16:09:35Z<p>Bjorn: </p>
<hr />
<div>[[File:Malus.jpg|center|center|center|750px]]<br />
<br />
Malus Nightborn is a 5'10" 190 lbs Zabreki Nightbrother born at a Nightsister Fortress on Dathomir in the year 275 ABY. Malus is a force sensitive, having been born to the Mother Wicca, A witch of the Nightfall coven, a clan Nightsisters within the Bone Keepers Sect. Growing up among the dangers of Dathomir is never easy, but is doubly so when born as a Nightbrother beholden to a traditionalist witches coven as Bone Keepers are. This environment during his formative years was exasperated even further by the fact that Malus's skin is a dark smokey grey, a color typically only found on females, albeit a much lighter shade. As a result Malus grew up constantly being challenged, not only by the witches as is typical in Dathomiri society, but also by his fellow Nightbrothers, who saw him as an easy target for ridicule. <br />
With this type of upbringing it is only natural that Malus grew up fighting. either in the training grounds of the arena as all males had to, or against his fellow Nightbrothers in personal fights. This is not to say Malus was unbeatable, indeed he lost his fair share of these fights. Of course this was not acceptable for Wicca. His mother expected more from a son of hers, so she took it upon herself to, at night not so much train Malus in the ways of Dathomir force magic, but more like indoctrinate him into it. All the while constantly reminding him of his place, driving it into him that he may be being trained in the craft of the Nightsisters, but he will never be anything but a mere male, and never hold any position in their society beyond an assassin. She drove him mercilessly, testing him constantly, pushing him beyond his limits to expand those limits out even further. This of course had the desired affect she wanted, as with his natural fighting ability and practice at it, coupled now with his new force abilities, Malus started asserting his dominance over his fellow Nightbrothers, to the point that before long, none of them dared ridicule or disrespect him anymore.<br />
When Malus was 10 years old, the Mothers of Dathomir sent word to the witches covens, the most talented force sensitive younglings from each village where to gather at the grand arena to see if any were worthy of further training as assassins of the Night Mothers. During the tests Malus excelled thanks to Wicca's teaching until eventually the testing came down to a trial of ritual combat between the 10 strongest disciples. Again here thanks to Wicca's intense training, he excelled, easily besting each opponent he faced until only he remained. With this Malus's road to higher instruction was sealed.<br />
For 5 years Malus toiled and suffered under the Night Mothers "Instruction" in addition to the training he received in higher force abilities, Malus was always tortured to make him stronger, always given the worse of conditions to deal with and live in to prepare him for anything his future tasks for the mothers might require of him. For 5 years he endured this, and for 5 year it did make him stronger, able to endure most anything mentally. But the Mothers did better than they expected, instead of making him stronger, they actually tempered him, each day his mind becoming more and more fixated on the idea of freedom, where no one tells him what to do, even if he has to live in squaller at least it would be his squaller. Finally one night Malus escaped the Night mothers cruelty, running away into the mountains of Dathomir, for 5 weeks he traveled in the wilds, living off the land, killing any predator looking to make him a meal, until one morning as the sun burned off the fog in a mountain valley, an ancient edifice was reveal. an old forgotten temple.<br />
Glad for a place to call home and shelter, Malus started exploring the temple, discovering it was an ancient temple from back in the old republic days, with Sith artifacts and relics located within, and in the back of the temple a single crumpled skeleton in black robes. For 6 months Malus lived in this temple, cleaning it of the dust, using the balance poles in the training area to continue his own training. This was done after he created a sarcophagus of heavy stone as best he could, in which he placed the remains he found giving them a proper burial. The one thing he noticed was as time went on especially after the remains were interred were strange happenings seem to take place, odd noises in other rooms, things seeming to move to other places, and even soft disembodied voices just loud enough to make you wonder if you really heard them.<br />
Finally after this 6 months Malus woke up in the night, his chamber light by a soft bluish green light. Upon rolling over Malus found himself staring at the source of strange happenings, a semi transparent figure, in a hooded robe and a Sith beathing mask, his body slowly dissipating to nothing from the waist down to the knees so he hovered over the floor. This was Darth Pestilence an ancient Sith of the old republic age, and whom the skeleton was of. A being of pure evil who's own master once tried to prepare him for life transference to steal his body, he now saw a promising candidate to take over himself, to live once again and to spread his power through the galaxy. Pestilence was no fool though, he proffered a honey tongue, thanking Malus for the respectful handling of his remains, and the pleasure he derived from watching him practice, even offering to help Malus and train him in the knowledge he learned millennia ago.<br />
What Darth Pestilence didn't take into consideration was Malus's upbringing, for those 5 years with the Mothers, he was weened on deceit, and fed on lies, he was a young man not easily fooled or deceived. But here also was a chance to do what he love most, to learn more about the force, to practice it, and learn its secrets. Malus agreed willing to take the chance for true learning, but determined to be ever watchful and weary. And for 10 years Malus trained under the force ghost, enduring grueling tasks that sharpened his mind and body. But unlike the mothers, the tasks were not cruel, just dangerous and hard. Such as stealing back into the camps of the very night sisters that wanted his head for running away to steal items and parts needed to repair Pestilence's Fury-class Imperial interceptor. This Pestilence intended to use once he took over Malus's body. When Malus's training was almost done Darth Pestilence gave him 1 final task, one final trip into the Night sisters camp, this time the most dangerous of all, to steal into their most guarded temples to steal a Kyber crystal to construct his own lightsaber, and to get the herbs and minerals needed for his last test of Sith Alchemy.<br />
These things Malus did, returning with all the required materials. With these he created a saber of his own design that he named The Nightsaber, and for the Alchemy test he created a staff, an unconventional choice but good for helping him pass as a none warrior force user, this staff he consecrated the Staff of Woe, and although it has no special powers beyond being a staff, it is able to block incoming lightsaber attacks, as well as deflect and redirect blaster bolts in much the same way a lightsaber does thanks to its Sith alchemical treatment.<br />
Finally after 10 years of training Darth Pestilence deemed Malus ready for possession and destruction so he could live again. Again Darth Pestilence did not take into account Malus's initial training under the Night Mothers, masters of death magic and sorceries, centuries of practice raising the dead and dealing with them as armies. And it was this training Malus called upon. No where near powerful enough to truly defeat a force ghost of Pestilences' power, Malus was however able to use his knowledge to defend himself to block Pestilences attempts to subvert control over his body and to take him as his own. It was the most dire test of Malus's abilities he had ever faces in his 25 years of life, a running battle to defend himself from Pestilence all the while fortifying his mind and soul, to keep him out as he struggled to get to his once chance of survival, the Fury-class Imperial interceptor they had restored. But this he did, able to escape with nothing more than his robes and staff. With no time to grab it, his new Lightsaber left behind. Malus sealed the hatch to the ship Pestilence close on his heels as he fired up the engines, gunning them as quickly as he could lifting off up and out of the temple, Pestilences' screams of agony and fury ringing in his ears as he left the boundaries of the temple and Pestilence unable to leave the grounds got pulled back out of the ship, right through the hull, venting his rage for no one to hear as he was alone again.<br />
Now Malus roams the galaxy, beholden to none, his thirst for knowledge driving him to constantly roam and explore. Searching for more Artifacts be they the old artifacts of the Jedi or the Sith matters not to him. His goal, total knowledge of the force. <br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">'''THE CODE OF MALUS NIGHTBORN'''</div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> There can be no light or dark,<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> There is only the force.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> There is no good or evil,<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> There is only knowledge.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> I am neither self destructive Sith,<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> Manipulative Nightsister,<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> Or self righteous Jedi.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> I am something in between.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> I am Malus, I am myself.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">'''THE NIGHTSABRE'''</div><br />
<br />
[[File:Nightsaber.jpg]] <br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> A Nightsaber is a lightsaber design created by Malus Nightborn. It is his signature saber that he always carries. <br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;"> <br />
The design of the Nightsaber is actually relatively simple. It consists of a double bladed lightsaber hilt that is actually 2 identical individual lightsaber hilts that are connected at their hilt ends by maglocks that twist and lock in place. This allows the user to wield it 4 different ways. With the hilts connected to either wield as a 2 handed lightsaber, or igniting both blades and wielding it as a double bladed lightsaber. Conversely it can be wielded with the handles disconnected from one another to dual wield or singly. An added feature to the saber is at the saber end of each handle, are 2 vents that can ignite into smaller lightsaber cross guards. This can be employed when the sabers are wielded, either disconnected, or connects with a single blade ignited like a 2 handed saber.<br />
The Sabers themselves are assembled using an A-45 style quantum power core at the base of each hilt, that is connected to a Czerka style multi-phase plasma emitter further up the handle. This allows the power to flow directly from the core to ignite the plasma emitter that then focuses its beam up through the tri facet Kyber crystal chamber that is located between the cross guards to allow the saber to extend out of the hilt, as well as to extend the cross guard emissions.</div>Bjornhttps://pathfinder.peeblesclan.com/index.php?title=Malus_Nightborn&diff=1165Malus Nightborn2026-06-01T16:00:56Z<p>Bjorn: Created page with "750px Malus Nightborn is a 5'10" 190 lbs Zabreki Nightbrother born at a Nightsister Fortress on Dathomir in the year 275 ABY. Malus is a force sensitive, having been born to the Mother Wicca, A witch of the Nightfall coven, a clan Nightsisters within the Bone Keepers Sect. Growing up among the dangers of Dathomir is never easy, but is doubly so when born as a Nightbrother beholden to a traditionalist witches coven as Bone Kee..."</p>
<hr />
<div>[[File:Malus.jpg|center|center|center|750px]]<br />
<br />
Malus Nightborn is a 5'10" 190 lbs Zabreki Nightbrother born at a Nightsister Fortress on Dathomir in the year 275 ABY. Malus is a force sensitive, having been born to the Mother Wicca, A witch of the Nightfall coven, a clan Nightsisters within the Bone Keepers Sect. Growing up among the dangers of Dathomir is never easy, but is doubly so when born as a Nightbrother beholden to a traditionalist witches coven as Bone Keepers are. This environment during his formative years was exasperated even further by the fact that Malus's skin is a dark smokey grey, a color typically only found on females, albeit a much lighter shade. As a result Malus grew up constantly being challenged, not only by the witches as is typical in Dathomiri society, but also by his fellow Nightbrothers, who saw him as an easy target for ridicule. <br />
With this type of upbringing it is only natural that Malus grew up fighting. either in the training grounds of the arena as all males had to, or against his fellow Nightbrothers in personal fights. This is not to say Malus was unbeatable, indeed he lost his fair share of these fights. Of course this was not acceptable for Wicca. His mother expected more from a son of hers, so she took it upon herself to, at night not so much train Malus in the ways of Dathomir force magic, but more like indoctrinate him into it. All the while constantly reminding him of his place, driving it into him that he may be being trained in the craft of the Nightsisters, but he will never be anything but a mere male, and never hold any position in their society beyond an assassin. She drove him mercilessly, testing him constantly, pushing him beyond his limits to expand those limits out even further. This of course had the desired affect she wanted, as with his natural fighting ability and practice at it, coupled now with his new force abilities, Malus started asserting his dominance over his fellow Nightbrothers, to the point that before long, none of them dared ridicule or disrespect him anymore.<br />
When Malus was 10 years old, the Mothers of Dathomir sent word to the witches covens, the most talented force sensitive younglings from each village where to gather at the grand arena to see if any were worthy of further training as assassins of the Night Mothers. During the tests Malus excelled thanks to Wicca's teaching until eventually the testing came down to a trial of ritual combat between the 10 strongest disciples. Again here thanks to Wicca's intense training, he excelled, easily besting each opponent he faced until only he remained. With this Malus's road to higher instruction was sealed.<br />
For 5 years Malus toiled and suffered under the Night Mothers "Instruction" in addition to the training he received in higher force abilities, Malus was always tortured to make him stronger, always given the worse of conditions to deal with and live in to prepare him for anything his future tasks for the mothers might require of him. For 5 years he endured this, and for 5 year it did make him stronger, able to endure most anything mentally. But the Mothers did better than they expected, instead of making him stronger, they actually tempered him, each day his mind becoming more and more fixated on the idea of freedom, where no one tells him what to do, even if he has to live in squaller at least it would be his squaller. Finally one night Malus escaped the Night mothers cruelty, running away into the mountains of Dathomir, for 5 weeks he traveled in the wilds, living off the land, killing any predator looking to make him a meal, until one morning as the sun burned off the fog in a mountain valley, an ancient edifice was reveal. an old forgotten temple.<br />
Glad for a place to call home and shelter, Malus started exploring the temple, discovering it was an ancient temple from back in the old republic days, with Sith artifacts and relics located within, and in the back of the temple a single crumpled skeleton in black robes. For 6 months Malus lived in this temple, cleaning it of the dust, using the balance poles in the training area to continue his own training. This was done after he created a sarcophagus of heavy stone as best he could, in which he placed the remains he found giving them a proper burial. The one thing he noticed was as time went on especially after the remains were interred were strange happenings seem to take place, odd noises in other rooms, things seeming to move to other places, and even soft disembodied voices just loud enough to make you wonder if you really heard them.<br />
Finally after this 6 months Malus woke up in the night, his chamber light by a soft bluish green light. Upon rolling over Malus found himself staring at the source of strange happenings, a semi transparent figure, in a hooded robe and a Sith beathing mask, his body slowly dissipating to nothing from the waist down to the knees so he hovered over the floor. This was Darth Pestilence an ancient Sith of the old republic age, and whom the skeleton was of. A being of pure evil who's own master once tried to prepare him for life transference to steal his body, he now saw a promising candidate to take over himself, to live once again and to spread his power through the galaxy. Pestilence was no fool though, he proffered a honey tongue, thanking Malus for the respectful handling of his remains, and the pleasure he derived from watching him practice, even offering to help Malus and train him in the knowledge he learned millennia ago.<br />
What Darth Pestilence didn't take into consideration was Malus's upbringing, for those 5 years with the Mothers, he was weened on deceit, and fed on lies, he was a young man not easily fooled or deceived. But here also was a chance to do what he love most, to learn more about the force, to practice it, and learn its secrets. Malus agreed willing to take the chance for true learning, but determined to be ever watchful and weary. And for 10 years Malus trained under the force ghost, enduring grueling tasks that sharpened his mind and body. But unlike the mothers, the tasks were not cruel, just dangerous and hard. Such as stealing back into the camps of the very night sisters that wanted his head for running away to steal items and parts needed to repair Pestilence's Fury-class Imperial interceptor. This Pestilence intended to use once he took over Malus's body. When Malus's training was almost done Darth Pestilence gave him 1 final task, one final trip into the Night sisters camp, this time the most dangerous of all, to steal into their most guarded temples to steal a Kyber crystal to construct his own lightsaber, and to get the herbs and minerals needed for his last test of Sith Alchemy.<br />
These things Malus did, returning with all the required materials. With these he created a saber of his own design that he named The Nightsaber, and for the Alchemy test he created a staff, an unconventional choice but good for helping him pass as a none warrior force user, this staff he consecrated the Staff of Woe, and although it has no special powers beyond being a staff, it is able to block incoming lightsaber attacks, as well as deflect and redirect blaster bolts in much the same way a lightsaber does thanks to its Sith alchemical treatment.<br />
Finally after 10 years of training Darth Pestilence deemed Malus ready for possession and destruction so he could live again. Again Darth Pestilence did not take into account Malus's initial training under the Night Mothers, masters of death magic and sorceries, centuries of practice raising the dead and dealing with them as armies. And it was this training Malus called upon. No where near powerful enough to truly defeat a force ghost of Pestilences' power, Malus was however able to use his knowledge to defend himself to block Pestilences attempts to subvert control over his body and to take him as his own. It was the most dire test of Malus's abilities he had ever faces in his 25 years of life, a running battle to defend himself from Pestilence all the while fortifying his mind and soul, to keep him out as he struggled to get to his once chance of survival, the Fury-class Imperial interceptor they had restored. But this he did, able to escape with nothing more than his robes and staff. With no time to grab it, his new Lightsaber left behind. Malus sealed the hatch to the ship Pestilence close on his heels as he fired up the engines, gunning them as quickly as he could lifting off up and out of the temple, Pestilences' screams of agony and fury ringing in his ears as he left the boundaries of the temple and Pestilence unable to leave the grounds got pulled back out of the ship, right through the hull, venting his rage for no one to hear as he was alone again.<br />
Now Malus roams the galaxy, beholden to none, his thirst for knowledge driving him to constantly roam and explore. Searching for more Artifacts be they the old artifacts of the Jedi or the Sith matters not to him. His goal, total knowledge of the force. <br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">'''THE CODE OF MALUS NIGHTBORN'''</div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> There can be no light or dark,<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> There is only the force.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> There is no good or evil,<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> There is only knowledge.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> I am neither self destructive Sith,<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> Manipulative Nightsister,<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> Or self righteous Jedi.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> I am something in between.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> I am Malus, I am myself.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">'''THE NIGHTSABRE'''</div><br />
<br />
[[File:Nightsaber.jpg|center|center|center]]<br />
<br />
A Nightsaber is a lightsaber design created by Malus Nightborn. It is his signature saber that he always carries.<br />
The design of the Nightsaber is actually relatively simple. It consists of a double bladed lightsaber hilt that is actually 2 identical individual lightsaber hilts that are connected at their hilt ends by maglocks that twist and lock in place. This allows the user to wield it 4 different ways. With the hilts connected to either wield as a 2 handed lightsaber, or igniting both blades and wielding it as a double bladed lightsaber. Conversely it can be wielded with the handles disconnected from one another to dual wield or singly. An added feature to the saber is at the saber end of each handle, are 2 vents that can ignite into smaller lightsaber cross guards. This can be employed when the sabers are wielded, either disconnected, or connects with a single blade ignited like a 2 handed saber.<br />
The Sabers themselves are assembled using an A-45 style quantum power core at the base of each hilt, that is connected to a Czerka style multi-phase plasma emitter further up the handle. This allows the power to flow directly from the core to ignite the plasma emitter that then focuses its beam up through the tri facet Kyber crystal chamber that is located between the cross guards to allow the saber to extend out of the hilt, as well as to extend the cross guard emissions.</div>Bjornhttps://pathfinder.peeblesclan.com/index.php?title=File:Nightsaber.jpg&diff=1160File:Nightsaber.jpg2026-06-01T14:46:20Z<p>Bjorn: </p>
<hr />
<div></div>Bjornhttps://pathfinder.peeblesclan.com/index.php?title=File:Malus.jpg&diff=1159File:Malus.jpg2026-06-01T14:16:13Z<p>Bjorn: </p>
<hr />
<div></div>Bjornhttps://pathfinder.peeblesclan.com/index.php?title=Imperial_Calander&diff=1036Imperial Calander2025-09-29T15:55:19Z<p>Bjorn: </p>
<hr />
<div>It is currently the year 2522 IC (Imperial Calendar). The dating system splits the 400-day year into twelve months of 32 or 33 days, and includes six important festival days, each of which lie between the months. The week consists of 8 days.<br />
<br />
'''MONTHS:'''<br />
Nachhexen (Nach-HEX'n) ("After-Witching")<br />
Jahrdrung (YAAR-drung) ("Year-Turn")<br />
Pflugzeit (pFLOOG-tsight) ("Plough-Tide")<br />
Sigmarzeit (ZIGG-mar-tsight) ("Sigmar-Tide")<br />
Sommerzeit (ZOMMER-tsight) ("Summer-Time")<br />
Vorgeheim (FORR-g'hime) ("Before Mystery")<br />
Nachgeheim (NACH-g'hime) ("After Mystery")<br />
Erntezeit (ERN-t'sight) ("Harvest Time")<br />
Brauzeit (BRAOW-tsight) ("Brewing Time")<br />
Kaldezeit (KAL-tsight) ("Cold Time")<br />
Ulriczeit (UL-rik-tsight) ("Ulric-Tide")<br />
Vorhexen (FORR-hex'n) ("Before Witching")<br />
<br />
'''DAYS:'''<br />
Wellentag (VELL'n-taag) ("Workday")<br />
Aubentag (OW-ben-taag) ("Levy Day")<br />
Marktag (MARK-taag) ("Market Day")<br />
Backertag (BAKKER-taag) ("Baking Day")<br />
Bezahltag (b'TZAAL-taag) ("Tax Day")<br />
Konistag (KO-nis-taag) ("King's Day")<br />
Angestag (AN-ges-taag) ("Start Day")<br />
Festag (FESS-taag) ("Holiday")<br />
<br />
[[File:Imperial_Calander.jpg|center]]<br />
<br />
'''IMPERIAL HOLIDAYS:'''<br />
Hexenstag (Witching Day): New Year's Day.<br />
Mitterfruhl (Spring Equinox): A festival for Manann (sea), Taal (nature), and Ulric (winter), with other Old Faith deities also honored.<br />
Sonnstill (Summer Solstice): A festival celebrating Taal (nature), Rhya (harvest), and the Elven Gods. <br />
Mittherbst (Autumn Equinox): Another festival for Rhya, Taal, and Ulric.<br />
Geheimnistag (Day of Mystery): A day for Morr, the God of Death.<br />
Monstill (Winter Solstice): A festival for Ulric, Taal, and Rhya.</div>Bjornhttps://pathfinder.peeblesclan.com/index.php?title=Imperial_Calander&diff=1035Imperial Calander2025-09-29T15:45:51Z<p>Bjorn: </p>
<hr />
<div>It is currently the year 2522 IC (Imperial Calendar). The dating system splits the 400-day year into twelve months of 32 or 33 days, and includes six important festival days, each of which lie between the months. The week consists of 8 days.<br />
<br />
'''DAYS:'''<br />
Wellentag (VELL'n-taag) ("Workday")<br />
Aubentag (OW-ben-taag) ("Levy Day")<br />
Marktag (MARK-taag) ("Market Day")<br />
Backertag (BAKKER-taag) ("Baking Day")<br />
Bezahltag (b'TZAAL-taag) ("Tax Day")<br />
Konistag (KO-nis-taag) ("King's Day")<br />
Angestag (AN-ges-taag) ("Start Day")<br />
Festag (FESS-taag) ("Holiday")<br />
<br />
'''MONTHS:'''<br />
Nachhexen (Nach-HEX'n) ("After-Witching")<br />
Jahrdrung (YAAR-drung) ("Year-Turn")<br />
Pflugzeit (pFLOOG-tsight) ("Plough-Tide")<br />
Sigmarzeit (ZIGG-mar-tsight) ("Sigmar-Tide")<br />
Sommerzeit (ZOMMER-tsight) ("Summer-Time")<br />
Vorgeheim (FORR-g'hime) ("Before Mystery")<br />
Nachgeheim (NACH-g'hime) ("After Mystery")<br />
Erntezeit (ERN-t'sight) ("Harvest Time")<br />
Brauzeit (BRAOW-tsight) ("Brewing Time")<br />
Kaldezeit (KAL-tsight) ("Cold Time")<br />
Ulriczeit (UL-rik-tsight) ("Ulric-Tide")<br />
Vorhexen (FORR-hex'n) ("Before Witching")<br />
<br />
[[File:Imperial_Calander.jpg|center]]<br />
<br />
'''IMPERIAL HOLIDAYS:'''<br />
Hexenstag (Witching Day): New Year's Day.<br />
Mitterfruhl (Spring Equinox): A festival for Manann (sea), Taal (nature), and Ulric (winter), with other Old Faith deities also honored.<br />
Sonnstill (Summer Solstice): A festival celebrating Taal (nature), Rhya (harvest), and the Elven Gods. <br />
Mittherbst (Autumn Equinox): Another festival for Rhya, Taal, and Ulric.<br />
Geheimnistag (Day of Mystery): A day for Morr, the God of Death.<br />
Monstill (Winter Solstice): A festival for Ulric, Taal, and Rhya.</div>Bjornhttps://pathfinder.peeblesclan.com/index.php?title=Imperial_Calander&diff=1034Imperial Calander2025-09-29T15:06:10Z<p>Bjorn: </p>
<hr />
<div>It is currently the year 2522 IC (Imperial Calendar). The dating system splits the 400-day year into twelve months of 32 or 33 days, and includes six important festival days, each of which lie between the months. The week consists of 8 days.<br />
<br />
'''DAYS:'''<br />
Wellentag (VELL'n-taag) ("Workday")<br />
Aubentag (OW-ben-taag) ("Levy Day")<br />
Marktag (MARK-taag) ("Market Day")<br />
Backertag (BAKKER-taag) ("Baking Day")<br />
Bezahltag (b'TZAAL-taag) ("Tax Day")<br />
Konistag (KO-nis-taag) ("King's Day")<br />
Angestag (AN-ges-taag) ("Start Day")<br />
Festag (FESS-taag) ("Holiday")<br />
<br />
'''MONTHS:'''<br />
Nachhexen (Nach-HEX'n) ("After-Witching")<br />
Jahrdrung (YAAR-drung) ("Year-Turn")<br />
Pflugzeit (pFLOOG-tsight) ("Plough-Tide")<br />
Sigmarzeit (ZIGG-mar-tsight) ("Sigmar-Tide")<br />
Sommerzeit (ZOMMER-tsight) ("Summer-Time")<br />
Vorgeheim (FORR-g'hime) ("Before Mystery")<br />
Nachgeheim (NACH-g'hime) ("After Mystery")<br />
Erntezeit (ERN-t'sight) ("Harvest Time")<br />
Brauzeit (BRAOW-tsight) ("Brewing Time")<br />
Kaldezeit (KAL-tsight) ("Cold Time")<br />
Ulriczeit (UL-rik-tsight) ("Ulric-Tide")<br />
Vorhexen (FORR-hex'n) ("Before Witching")<br />
<br />
'''HOLIDAYS:'''<br />
Hexenstag (Witching Day): New Year's Day.<br />
Mitterfruhl (Spring Equinox): A festival for Manann (sea), Taal (nature), and Ulric (winter), with other Old Faith deities also honored.<br />
Sonnstill (Summer Solstice): A festival celebrating Taal (nature), Rhya (harvest), and the Elven Gods. <br />
Mittherbst (Autumn Equinox): Another festival for Rhya, Taal, and Ulric.<br />
Geheimnistag (Day of Mystery): A day for Morr, the God of Death.<br />
Monstill (Winter Solstice): A festival for Ulric, Taal, and Rhya.<br />
<br />
[[File:Imperial_Calander.jpg|center]]</div>Bjornhttps://pathfinder.peeblesclan.com/index.php?title=Imperial_Calander&diff=1033Imperial Calander2025-09-29T15:05:10Z<p>Bjorn: </p>
<hr />
<div>It is currently the year 2522 IC (Imperial Calendar). The dating system splits the 400-day year into twelve months of 32 or 33 days, and includes six important festival days, each of which lie between the months. The week consists of 8 days.<br />
<br />
'''DAYS:'''<br />
Wellentag (VELL'n-taag) ("Workday")<br />
Aubentag (OW-ben-taag) ("Levy Day")<br />
Marktag (MARK-taag) ("Market Day")<br />
Backertag (BAKKER-taag) ("Baking Day")<br />
Bezahltag (b'TZAAL-taag) ("Tax Day")<br />
Konistag (KO-nis-taag) ("King's Day")<br />
Angestag (AN-ges-taag) ("Start Day")<br />
Festag (FESS-taag) ("Holiday")<br />
<br />
'''MONTHS:'''<br />
Nachhexen (Nach-HEX'n) ("After-Witching")<br />
Jahrdrung (YAAR-drung) ("Year-Turn")<br />
Pflugzeit (pFLOOG-tsight) ("Plough-Tide")<br />
Sigmarzeit (ZIGG-mar-tsight) ("Sigmar-Tide")<br />
Sommerzeit (ZOMMER-tsight) ("Summer-Time")<br />
Vorgeheim (FORR-g'hime) ("Before Mystery")<br />
Nachgeheim (NACH-g'hime) ("After Mystery")<br />
Erntezeit (ERN-t'sight) ("Harvest Time")<br />
Brauzeit (BRAOW-tsight) ("Brewing Time")<br />
Kaldezeit (KAL-tsight) ("Cold Time")<br />
Ulriczeit (UL-rik-tsight) ("Ulric-Tide")<br />
Vorhexen (FORR-hex'n) ("Before Witching")<br />
<br />
'''HOLIDAYS:'''<br />
Hexenstag (Witching Day): New Year's Day.<br />
Mitterfruhl (Spring Equinox): A festival for Manann (sea), Taal (nature), and Ulric (winter), with other Old Faith deities also honored.<br />
Sonnstill (Summer Solstice): A festival celebrating Taal (nature), Rhya (harvest), and the Elven Gods. <br />
Mittherbst (Autumn Equinox): Another festival for Rhya, Taal, and Ulric.<br />
Geheimnistag (Day of Mystery): A day for Morr, the God of Death.<br />
Monstill (Winter Solstice): A festival for Ulric, Taal, and Rhya.<br />
<br />
[[Imperial_Calander.jpg|center]]</div>Bjornhttps://pathfinder.peeblesclan.com/index.php?title=Imperial_Calander&diff=1032Imperial Calander2025-09-29T15:04:17Z<p>Bjorn: </p>
<hr />
<div>It is currently the year 2522 IC (Imperial Calendar). The dating system splits the 400-day year into twelve months of 32 or 33 days, and includes six important festival days, each of which lie between the months. The week consists of 8 days.<br />
<br />
'''DAYS:'''<br />
Wellentag (VELL'n-taag) ("Workday")<br />
Aubentag (OW-ben-taag) ("Levy Day")<br />
Marktag (MARK-taag) ("Market Day")<br />
Backertag (BAKKER-taag) ("Baking Day")<br />
Bezahltag (b'TZAAL-taag) ("Tax Day")<br />
Konistag (KO-nis-taag) ("King's Day")<br />
Angestag (AN-ges-taag) ("Start Day")<br />
Festag (FESS-taag) ("Holiday")<br />
<br />
'''MONTHS:'''<br />
Nachhexen (Nach-HEX'n) ("After-Witching")<br />
Jahrdrung (YAAR-drung) ("Year-Turn")<br />
Pflugzeit (pFLOOG-tsight) ("Plough-Tide")<br />
Sigmarzeit (ZIGG-mar-tsight) ("Sigmar-Tide")<br />
Sommerzeit (ZOMMER-tsight) ("Summer-Time")<br />
Vorgeheim (FORR-g'hime) ("Before Mystery")<br />
Nachgeheim (NACH-g'hime) ("After Mystery")<br />
Erntezeit (ERN-t'sight) ("Harvest Time")<br />
Brauzeit (BRAOW-tsight) ("Brewing Time")<br />
Kaldezeit (KAL-tsight) ("Cold Time")<br />
Ulriczeit (UL-rik-tsight) ("Ulric-Tide")<br />
Vorhexen (FORR-hex'n) ("Before Witching")<br />
<br />
'''HOLIDAYS:'''<br />
Hexenstag (Witching Day): New Year's Day.<br />
Mitterfruhl (Spring Equinox): A festival for Manann (sea), Taal (nature), and Ulric (winter), with other Old Faith deities also honored.<br />
Sonnstill (Summer Solstice): A festival celebrating Taal (nature), Rhya (harvest), and the Elven Gods. <br />
Mittherbst (Autumn Equinox): Another festival for Rhya, Taal, and Ulric.<br />
Geheimnistag (Day of Mystery): A day for Morr, the God of Death.<br />
Monstill (Winter Solstice): A festival for Ulric, Taal, and Rhya.<br />
<br />
Imperial_Calander.jpg</div>Bjornhttps://pathfinder.peeblesclan.com/index.php?title=File:Imperial_Calander.jpg&diff=1031File:Imperial Calander.jpg2025-09-29T15:03:54Z<p>Bjorn: </p>
<hr />
<div></div>Bjornhttps://pathfinder.peeblesclan.com/index.php?title=Imperial_Calander&diff=1030Imperial Calander2025-09-29T15:02:50Z<p>Bjorn: </p>
<hr />
<div>It is currently the year 2522 IC (Imperial Calendar). The dating system splits the 400-day year into twelve months of 32 or 33 days, and includes six important festival days, each of which lie between the months. The week consists of 8 days.<br />
<br />
'''DAYS:'''<br />
Wellentag (VELL'n-taag) ("Workday")<br />
Aubentag (OW-ben-taag) ("Levy Day")<br />
Marktag (MARK-taag) ("Market Day")<br />
Backertag (BAKKER-taag) ("Baking Day")<br />
Bezahltag (b'TZAAL-taag) ("Tax Day")<br />
Konistag (KO-nis-taag) ("King's Day")<br />
Angestag (AN-ges-taag) ("Start Day")<br />
Festag (FESS-taag) ("Holiday")<br />
<br />
'''MONTHS:'''<br />
Nachhexen (Nach-HEX'n) ("After-Witching")<br />
Jahrdrung (YAAR-drung) ("Year-Turn")<br />
Pflugzeit (pFLOOG-tsight) ("Plough-Tide")<br />
Sigmarzeit (ZIGG-mar-tsight) ("Sigmar-Tide")<br />
Sommerzeit (ZOMMER-tsight) ("Summer-Time")<br />
Vorgeheim (FORR-g'hime) ("Before Mystery")<br />
Nachgeheim (NACH-g'hime) ("After Mystery")<br />
Erntezeit (ERN-t'sight) ("Harvest Time")<br />
Brauzeit (BRAOW-tsight) ("Brewing Time")<br />
Kaldezeit (KAL-tsight) ("Cold Time")<br />
Ulriczeit (UL-rik-tsight) ("Ulric-Tide")<br />
Vorhexen (FORR-hex'n) ("Before Witching")<br />
<br />
'''HOLIDAYS:'''<br />
Hexenstag (Witching Day): New Year's Day.<br />
Mitterfruhl (Spring Equinox): A festival for Manann (sea), Taal (nature), and Ulric (winter), with other Old Faith deities also honored.<br />
Sonnstill (Summer Solstice): A festival celebrating Taal (nature), Rhya (harvest), and the Elven Gods. <br />
Mittherbst (Autumn Equinox): Another festival for Rhya, Taal, and Ulric.<br />
Geheimnistag (Day of Mystery): A day for Morr, the God of Death.<br />
Monstill (Winter Solstice): A festival for Ulric, Taal, and Rhya.</div>Bjornhttps://pathfinder.peeblesclan.com/index.php?title=Imperial_Calander&diff=1029Imperial Calander2025-09-29T14:58:40Z<p>Bjorn: Created page with "It is currently the year 2522 IC (Imperial Calendar). The dating system splits the 400-day year into twelve months of 32 or 33 days, and includes six important festival days, each of which lie between the months. The week consists of 8 days. DAYS: Wellentag (VELL'n-taag) ("Workday") Aubentag (OW-ben-taag) ("Levy Day") Marktag (MARK-taag) ("Market Day") Backertag (BAKKER-taag) ("Baking Day") Bezahltag (b'TZAAL-taag) ("Tax Day") Konistag (KO-nis-taag) ("King's Day") Anges..."</p>
<hr />
<div>It is currently the year 2522 IC (Imperial Calendar). The dating system splits the 400-day year into twelve months of 32 or 33 days, and includes six important festival days, each of which lie between the months. The week consists of 8 days.<br />
<br />
DAYS:<br />
Wellentag (VELL'n-taag) ("Workday")<br />
Aubentag (OW-ben-taag) ("Levy Day")<br />
Marktag (MARK-taag) ("Market Day")<br />
Backertag (BAKKER-taag) ("Baking Day")<br />
Bezahltag (b'TZAAL-taag) ("Tax Day")<br />
Konistag (KO-nis-taag) ("King's Day")<br />
Angestag (AN-ges-taag) ("Start Day")<br />
Festag (FESS-taag) ("Holiday")<br />
<br />
MONTHS:<br />
Nachhexen (Nach-HEX'n) ("After-Witching")<br />
Jahrdrung (YAAR-drung) ("Year-Turn")<br />
Pflugzeit (pFLOOG-tsight) ("Plough-Tide")<br />
Sigmarzeit (ZIGG-mar-tsight) ("Sigmar-Tide")<br />
Sommerzeit (ZOMMER-tsight) ("Summer-Time")<br />
Vorgeheim (FORR-g'hime) ("Before Mystery")<br />
Nachgeheim (NACH-g'hime) ("After Mystery")<br />
Erntezeit (ERN-t'sight) ("Harvest Time")<br />
Brauzeit (BRAOW-tsight) ("Brewing Time")<br />
Kaldezeit (KAL-tsight) ("Cold Time")<br />
Ulriczeit (UL-rik-tsight) ("Ulric-Tide")<br />
Vorhexen (FORR-hex'n) ("Before Witching")<br />
<br />
HOLIDAYS:<br />
Hexenstag (Witching Day): New Year's Day.<br />
Mitterfruhl (Spring Equinox): A festival for Manann (sea), Taal (nature), and Ulric (winter), with other Old Faith deities also honored.<br />
Sonnstill (Summer Solstice): A festival celebrating Taal (nature), Rhya (harvest), and the Elven Gods. <br />
Mittherbst (Autumn Equinox): Another festival for Rhya, Taal, and Ulric.<br />
Geheimnistag (Day of Mystery): A day for Morr, the God of Death.<br />
Monstill (Winter Solstice): A festival for Ulric, Taal, and Rhya.</div>Bjornhttps://pathfinder.peeblesclan.com/index.php?title=Ivar_Bjornson&diff=1019Ivar Bjornson2025-09-28T03:29:38Z<p>Bjorn: </p>
<hr />
<div>[[File:Ivar5.jpg|center|center|center|750px]]<br />
<br />
'''Background:'''<br />
Kattagat, a sea village on the Sea of Claws in the Empire of man's Norldland province. A Thriving place, with good fishing in the fjord, and rare fertile farm land inland. It is these exact qualities that draw the attention of the forces of destruction to it. Norscans from across the sea, and Beastmen and Goblins from the Forests further inland. As such Kattagat has seen its fair share of raids, from both the land and the sea. It is a testament to the hardiness of these Nordlanders that call this place home that they are not only able to survive in this hostile environment, but actually still thrive in it. If you ask any of them, it is due to the villages devotion to Ulric, the god of Winter and War.<br />
It is in this village 27 years ago under a blood moon on the winter solstice that Ivar was born, the son of Bjorn a respected warrior and seamen of the village. Bjorn both respected his god, and knew the dangers of living near the sea of claw, so took to training Ivar in both the theology of Ulric, as well as the martial practices used to honor their god and their very survival. But unlike the savage Norscans across the sea, the Nordlanders also understood the value of knowledge and learning. Thus Bjorn also ensure his son had the education to not only read his lord Ulric's scriptures and tenants, but to write his opinions and thoughts down as well as speak the languages of the people that boarder Nordland.<br />
For 15 winters he taught his son, imparting all the knowledge he could into him, until finally he deemed him worthy of the highest of honors in his mind. Thus it was that he took his savings and bought Ivar passage to Middenheim to study at the high temple of Ulric, to learn the deeper secrets of their god so he could dedicate himself to serving Ulric in repayment for all the aid Ulric provides to the Village they called home, helping to preserve it from their marauding enemies bent on blood and destruction. Now 12 years later Ivar Bjornson is a fully fledged Warrior Priest of Ulric, taking his axe and shield where Ulric deems him needed, never questioning his lords wisdom. Indeed these trips sometimes even take him back to Kattagat to help fend off one raid or another. On these occasions, with the homecoming of his son, and the chance to fight at his side once again before he becomes to old to truly make a difference, Bjorn throws a feast, and that means good food, a warm hearth, all the ale you can drink, and many toasts to Ulric.<br />
Most recently these travels in the service to Ulric have taken Ivar to the Drakwald Forest to help repel some raids by beastmen of Nurgle. This was a task he took to with holy zeal. Indeed Ivar was reaping a good harvest of the foul creatures, having slain 3 of them personally when a foul ritual took hold, and a blinding light filled the battlefield. When this subsided, Ivar and the steam tank he was helping protect were both gone, vanished to Ulric knows where.<br />
<br />
<center> Anoint yourself with the blood of Ulric that you shall not fear to bleed. </center><br />
<center> Pledge yourself to Ulric's work that you shall not fear to suffer. </center><br />
<center> Give yourself to Ulric that you shall not fear to die. </center><br />
<center> For if you find yourself alone, standing in fields of snow with the cool wind on your face, </center><br />
<center> Do not be troubled for you are in Ulrics' hunting grounds! </center><br />
<center> And you are already dead! </center><br />
<br />
<center> ''' ''Ivar Bjornson to the Imperial troops'' '''</center><br />
<center> ''' ''At the Battle of Drakwald'' '''</center><br />
<br />
[[File:Wolf_Axe.jpg|center|350px]]<br />
<br />
<br />
'''Appearance and Personality:'''<br />
Ivar Bjornson, Warrior priest of Ulric is an imposing site, standing 6'4" and weighing 17 stones. This makes him larger than the vast majority of the Empires citizens, yet still slightly smaller that the Norscans he is so accustomed to fighting. Like most Ulric followers Ivar has long Hair and a beard. In his case they are Platinum Blonde almost white. Ivar keeps his Head shaved on the sides and back, ringed in tattoos of Ulric runes and symbols, as well as down the left side of his face over his eye. The long hair from the top of his head pulled back in a long thick braid hanging to mid back. His armor is a fine well kept breastplate and pauldrons, wolf fangs ringing the waist of the breastplate, while wolf claws extend from his gauntlets like a wolfs paw. Looping over his breastplate is a thick chain, running diagonal from his right shoulder to left waist, from which hangs a copy of one of Ulrics most sacred books, The Ulric Creed. His legs are covered by high quality supple black leather robes lined on the inside with chainmail armor that hangs to his ankles, split to the waist in the front for movement. Over his plate pauldrons, a luxurious well kept grey wolf pelt drapes his shoulders with the head resting on the right shoulder, a black cape and hood, flowing from the pelt, The hood again made of supple black leather to keep the rain off his pate (after all Ulric requires his warriors to be brave, and forthright, not to bath in the rain).<br />
When most people meet Ivar for the first time they are usually surprised. Here is a man who obviously is a Norlander, and a follower of Ulric to boot, so for sure he's going to be crude and boorish and a bit barbaric. Then Ivar greets them, and they find themselves in the presence of no boorish barbarian, but a well spoken educated man, that speaks many languages. Once the shock of this wears off they find themselves in the presence of a true devotee of Ulric, honest, and forthright in all things he approaches, and indeed even Jovial when around his companions and other warriors. Drinking ale and mead with them, laughing and boasting, telling tales of adventures past. This is part of the charm of Ivar that makes him such a good warrior priest to the god of battle, because these qualities, being open, forthright, easy to drink and feast with, even with the lowest of warriors, these are the qualities that raises the spirits and keeps the morale of men high. <br />
This is but one shock people receive when meeting Ivar, the second shock comes later, when they first witness him in battle. Here in battle, all the refinement of his education vanishes, and he embodies the true savage spirit of Ulric, reveling in battle. The clash of arms and shields music to his ears as he wades into his enemies, just on the cusp of a berserker frenzy as his axe raises and falls, felling men like cords of wood as his booming voice chants out his litanies to Ulric, dedicating his battle to him and honoring him with each foe felled.<br />
Ivar loves battle, loves honoring his lord Ulric in his preferred method, but of all the enemies Ivar can face, none are more hated than the twisted mockeries of mankind, the Skaven and Beastmen. Ivar feels it his Sacred duty to finish Ulrics holy work that he started back in time primordial when he faced the forces of chaos in an epic war before finally pushing them back through the gates from whence they came when they invaded our world. As The holy scripture "The Ulric Creed" states of the aftermath of the war with Chaos:<br />
"The faithful shall not suffer the Chaos-thing's to live while they have breath in their bodies, for in the aftermath of Ulrics great war he returned to the battlefield, and he saw the rats feasting. In their great consumption the rats had taken on a remnant of those foul gods' power, and become like them: a new race of ratmen, the Skaven, like Men, only made from pure Chaos. They, like all things of Chaos, would work forever to destroy Humanity and all it had built, and to one day bring about the victory the Chaos Gods had been denied.<br />
Ulric saw too that the Daemon troops that had been routed had returned and carried away what was not eaten, and then had fled to the darkest corners of the world. They, too, these Beastmen, would watch and wait for their chance to reclaim the world from Men." <br />
<br />
<center> Ulric give me the fangs of the wolf. </center><br />
<center> Ulric give me the claws of the wolf. </center><br />
<center> Ulric give me the coat of the wolf. </center><br />
<center> And I will show your enemies the mercy of the wolf. </center><br />
<br />
<center> ''' ''Ivar Bjornson'' '''</center><br />
<center> ''' ''Chanting litanies to Ulric in battle'' '''</center><br />
<br />
[[File:Shield.jpg|center|250px]]<br />
<br />
'''Ivar Bjornson Saga's:'''</div>Bjornhttps://pathfinder.peeblesclan.com/index.php?title=Ivar_Bjornson&diff=1018Ivar Bjornson2025-09-28T03:04:56Z<p>Bjorn: </p>
<hr />
<div>[[File:Ivar5.jpg|center|center|center|750px]]<br />
<br />
'''Background:'''<br />
Kattagat, a sea village on the Sea of Claws in the Empire of man's Norldland province. A Thriving place, with good fishing in the fjord, and rare fertile farm land inland. It is these exact qualities that draw the attention of the forces of destruction to it. Norscans from across the sea, and Beastmen and Goblins from the Forests further inland. As such Kattagat has seen its fair share of raids, from both the land and the sea. It is a testament to the hardiness of these Nordlanders that call this place home that they are not only able to survive in this hostile environment, but actually still thrive in it. If you ask any of them, it is due to the villages devotion to Ulric, the god of Winter and War.<br />
It is in this village 27 years ago under a blood moon on the winter solstice that Ivar was born, the son of Bjorn a respected warrior and seamen of the village. Bjorn both respected his god, and knew the dangers of living near the sea of claw, so took to training Ivar in both the theology of Ulric, as well as the martial practices used to honor their god and their very survival. But unlike the savage Norscans across the sea, the Nordlanders also understood the value of knowledge and learning. Thus Bjorn also ensure his son had the education to not only read his lord Ulric's scriptures and tenants, but to write his opinions and thoughts down as well as speak the languages of the people that boarder Nordland.<br />
For 15 winters he taught his son, imparting all the knowledge he could into him, until finally he deemed him worthy of the highest of honors in his mind. Thus it was that he took his savings and bought Ivar passage to Middenheim to study at the high temple of Ulric, to learn the deeper secrets of their god so he could dedicate himself to serving Ulric in repayment for all the aid Ulric provides to the Village they called home, helping to preserve it from their marauding enemies bent on blood and destruction. Now 12 years later Ivar Bjornson is a fully fledged Warrior Priest of Ulric, taking his axe and shield where Ulric deems him needed, never questioning his lords wisdom. Indeed these trips sometimes even take him back to Kattagat to help fend off one raid or another. On these occasions, with the homecoming of his son, and the chance to fight at his side once again before he becomes to old to truly make a difference, Bjorn throws a feast, and that means good food, a warm hearth, all the ale you can drink, and many toasts to Ulric.<br />
Most recently these travels in the service to Ulric have taken Ivar to the Drakwald Forest to help repel some raids by beastmen of Nurgle. This was a task he took to with holy zeal. Indeed Ivar was reaping a good harvest of the foul creatures, having slain 3 of them personally when a foul ritual took hold, and a blinding light filled the battlefield. When this subsided, Ivar and the steam tank he was helping protect were both gone, vanished to Ulric knows where.<br />
<br />
<center> Anoint yourself with the blood of Ulric that you shall not fear to bleed. </center><br />
<center> Pledge yourself to Ulric's work that you shall not fear to suffer. </center><br />
<center> Give yourself to Ulric that you shall not fear to die. </center><br />
<center> For if you find yourself alone, standing in fields of snow with the cool wind on your face, </center><br />
<center> Do not be troubled for you are in Ulrics' hunting grounds! </center><br />
<center> And you are already dead! </center><br />
<br />
<center> ''' ''Ivar Bjornson to the Imperial troops'' '''</center><br />
<center> ''' ''At the Battle of Drakwald'' '''</center><br />
<br />
[[File:Wolf_Axe.jpg|center|350px]]<br />
<br />
<br />
'''Appearance and Personality:'''<br />
Ivar Bjornson, Warrior priest of Ulric is an imposing site, standing 6'4" and weighing 17 stones. This makes him larger than the vast majority of the Empires citizens, yet still slightly smaller that the Norscans he is so accustomed to fighting. Like most Ulric followers Ivar has long Hair and a beard. In his case they are Platinum Blonde almost white. Ivar keeps his Head shaved on the sides and back, ringed in tattoos of Ulric runes and symbols, as well as down the left side of his face over his eye. The long hair from the top of his head pulled back in a long thick braid hanging to mid back. His armor is a fine well kept breastplate and pauldrons, wolf fangs ringing the waist of the breastplate, while wolf claws extend from his gauntlets like a wolfs paw. Looping over his breastplate is a thick chain, running diagonal from his right shoulder to left waist, from which hangs a copy of one of Ulrics most sacred books, The Ulric Creed. His legs are covered by high quality supple black leather robes lined on the inside with chainmail armor that hangs to his ankles, split to the waist in the front for movement. Over his plate pauldrons, a luxurious well kept grey wolf pelt drapes his shoulders with the head resting on the right shoulder, a black cape and hood, flowing from the pelt, The hood again made of supple black leather to keep the rain off his pate (after all Ulric requires his warriors to be brave, and forthright, not to bath in the rain).<br />
When most people meet Ivar for the first time they are usually surprised. Here is a man who obviously is a Norlander, and a follower of Ulric to boot, so for sure he's going to be crude and boorish and a bit barbaric. Then Ivar greets them, and they find themselves in the presence of no boorish barbarian, but a well spoken educated man, that speaks many languages. Once the shock of this wears off they find themselves in the presence of a true devotee of Ulric, honest, and forthright in all things he approaches, and indeed even Jovial when around his companions and other warriors. Drinking ale and mead with them, laughing and boasting, telling tales of adventures past. This is part of the charm of Ivar that makes him such a good warrior priest to the god of battle, because these qualities, being open, forthright, easy to drink and feast with, even with the lowest of warriors, these are the qualities that raises the spirits and keeps the morale of men high. <br />
This is but one shock people receive when meeting Ivar, the second shock comes later, when they first witness him in battle. Here in battle, all the refinement of his education vanishes, and he embodies the true savage spirit of Ulric, reveling in battle. The clash of arms and shields music to his ears as he wades into his enemies, just on the cusp of a berserker frenzy as his axe raises and falls, felling men like cords of wood as his booming voice chants out his litanies to Ulric, dedicating his battle to him and honoring him with each foe felled.<br />
Ivar loves battle, loves honoring his lord Ulric in his preferred method, but of all the enemies Ivar can face, none are more hated than the twisted mockeries of mankind, the Skaven and Beastmen. Ivar feels it his Sacred duty to finish Ulrics holy work that he started back in time primordial when he faced the forces of chaos in an epic war before finally pushing them back through the gates from whence they came when they invaded our world. As The holy scripture "The Ulric Creed" states of the aftermath of the war with Chaos:<br />
"The faithful shall not suffer the Chaos-thing's to live while they have breath in their bodies, for in the aftermath of Ulrics great war he returned to the battlefield, and he saw the rats feasting. In their great consumption the rats had taken on a remnant of those foul gods' power, and become like them: a new race of ratmen, the Skaven, like Men, only made from pure Chaos. They, like all things of Chaos, would work forever to destroy Humanity and all it had built, and to one day bring about the victory the Chaos Gods had been denied.<br />
Ulric saw too that the Daemon troops that had been routed had returned and carried away what was not eaten, and then had fled to the darkest corners of the world. They, too, these Beastmen, would watch and wait for their chance to reclaim the world from Men." <br />
<br />
<center> Ulric give me the fangs of the wolf. </center><br />
<center> Ulric give me the claws of the wolf. </center><br />
<center> Ulric give me the coat of the wolf. </center><br />
<center> And I will show your enemies the mercy of the wolf. </center><br />
<br />
<center> ''' ''Ivar Bjornson'' '''</center><br />
<center> ''' ''Chanting litanies to Ulric in battle'' '''</center><br />
<br />
[[File:Shield.jpg|center|250px]]</div>Bjornhttps://pathfinder.peeblesclan.com/index.php?title=Ivar_Bjornson&diff=1017Ivar Bjornson2025-09-28T02:46:55Z<p>Bjorn: </p>
<hr />
<div>[[File:Ivar5.jpg|center|center|center|750px]]<br />
<br />
'''Background:'''<br />
Kattagat, a sea village on the Sea of Claws in the Empire of man's Norldland province. A Thriving place, with good fishing in the fjord, and rare fertile farm land inland. It is these exact qualities that draw the attention of the forces of destruction to it. Norscans from across the sea, and Beastmen and Goblins from the Forests further inland. As such Kattagat has seen its fair share of raids, from both the land and the sea. It is a testament to the hardiness of these Nordlanders that call this place home that they are not only able to survive in this hostile environment, but actually still thrive in it. If you ask any of them, it is due to the villages devotion to Ulric, the god of Winter and War.<br />
It is in this village 27 years ago under a blood moon on the winter solstice that Ivar was born, the son of Bjorn a respected warrior and seamen of the village. Bjorn both respected his god, and knew the dangers of living near the sea of claw, so took to training Ivar in both the theology of Ulric, as well as the martial practices used to honor their god and their very survival. But unlike the savage Norscans across the sea, the Nordlanders also understood the value of knowledge and learning. Thus Bjorn also ensure his son had the education to not only read his lord Ulric's scriptures and tenants, but to write his opinions and thoughts down as well as speak the languages of the people that boarder Nordland.<br />
For 15 winters he taught his son, imparting all the knowledge he could into him, until finally he deemed him worthy of the highest of honors in his mind. Thus it was that he took his savings and bought Ivar passage to Middenheim to study at the high temple of Ulric, to learn the deeper secrets of their god so he could dedicate himself to serving Ulric in repayment for all the aid Ulric provides to the Village they called home, helping to preserve it from their marauding enemies bent on blood and destruction. Now 12 years later Ivar Bjornson is a fully fledged Warrior Priest of Ulric, taking his axe and shield where Ulric deems him needed, never questioning his lords wisdom. Indeed these trips sometimes even take him back to Kattagat to help fend off one raid or another. On these occasions, with the homecoming of his son, and the chance to fight at his side once again before he becomes to old to truly make a difference, Bjorn throws a feast, and that means good food, a warm hearth, all the ale you can drink, and many toasts to Ulric.<br />
Most recently these travels in the service to Ulric have taken Ivar to the Drakwald Forest to help repel some raids by beastmen of Nurgle. This was a task he took to with holy zeal. Indeed Ivar was reaping a good harvest of the foul creatures, having slain 3 of them personally when a foul ritual took hold, and a blinding light filled the battlefield. When this subsided, Ivar and the steam tank he was helping protect were both gone, vanished to Ulric knows where.<br />
<br />
<center> Anoint yourself with the blood of Ulric that you shall not fear to bleed. </center><br />
<center> Pledge yourself to Ulric's work that you shall not fear to suffer. </center><br />
<center> Give yourself to Ulric that you shall not fear to die. </center><br />
<center> For if you find yourself alone, standing in fields of snow with the cool wind on your face, </center><br />
<center> Do not be troubled for you are in Ulrics' hunting grounds! </center><br />
<center> And you are already dead! </center><br />
<br />
<center> ''' ''Ivar Bjornson to the Imperial troops'' '''</center><br />
<center> ''' ''At the Battle of Drakwald'' '''</center><br />
<br />
[[File:Wolf_Axe.jpg|center|350px]]<br />
<br />
<br />
'''Appearance and Personality:'''<br />
Ivar Bjornson, Warrior priest of Ulric is an imposing site, standing 6'4" and weighing 17 stones. This makes him larger than the vast majority of the Empires citizens, yet still slightly smaller that the Norscans he is so accustomed to fighting. Like most Ulric followers Ivar has long Hair and a beard. In his case they are Platinum Blonde almost white. Ivar keeps his Head shaved on the sides and back, ringed in tattoos of Ulric runes and symbols, as well as down the left side of his face over his eye. The long hair from the top of his head pulled back in a long thick braid hanging to mid back. His armor is a fine well kept breastplate and pauldrons, wolf fangs ringing the waist of the breastplate, while wolf claws extend from his gauntlets like a wolfs paw. Looping over his breastplate is a thick chain, running diagonal from his right shoulder to left waist, from which hangs a copy of one of Ulrics most sacred books, The Ulric Creed. His legs are covered by high quality supple black leather robes lined on the inside with chainmail armor that hangs to his ankles, split to the waist in the front for movement. Over his plate pauldrons, a luxurious well kept grey wolf pelt drapes his shoulders with the head resting on the right shoulder, a black cape and hood, flowing from the pelt, The hood again made of supple black leather to keep the rain off his pate (after all Ulric requires his warriors to be brave, and forthright, not to bath in the rain).<br />
When most people meet Ivar for the first time they are usually surprised. Here is a man who obviously is a Norlander, and a following we Ulric to boot, so for sure he's going to be crude and boorish and a bit barbaric. Then Ivar greets them, and they find themselves in the presence of no boorish barbarian, but a well spoken educated man, that speaks many languages. Once the shock of this they find themselves in the presence of a true devotee of Ulric, honest, forthright, truthful in all things he approaches, and indeed even Jovial when around his companions and other warriors. Drinking ale and mead with them, laughing and boasting, telling tale of adventures past. This is part of the charm of Ivar that makes him such a good warrior priest to the god of battle, because these qualities, open, forthright, easy to drink and feast with, even for the lowest of warriors, these are the qualities that raises the spirits and keeps the morale of men high. <br />
This is but one shock people receive when meeting Ivar, the second shock comes later, when they first witness him in battle. Here in battle, all the refinement of his education vanishes, and he embodies the true savage spirit of Ulric, reveling in battle. The clash of arms and shields music to his ears as he wades into his enemies, just on the cusp of a berserker frenzy as his axe raises and falls, felling men like cords of wood as his booming voice chants out his litanies to Ulric, dedicating his battle to him and honoring him with each foe felled.<br />
Ivar loves battle, loves honoring his lord Ulric in his preferred method, but of all the enemies Ivar can face, none are more hated than the twisted mockeries of mankind, the Skaven and Beastmen. Ivar feels it his Sacred duty to finish Ulrics holy work that he started back in time primordial when he faced the forces of chaos in an epic war before finally pushing them back through the gates from whence they came to invade our world. As The holy scripture "The Ulric Creed" states of the aftermath of the war with Chaos:<br />
"The faithful shall not suffer the Chaos-thing's to live while they have breath in their bodies, for in the aftermath of Ulrics great war he returned to the battlefield, and he saw the rats feasting. In their great consumption the rats had taken on a remnant of those foul gods' power, and become like them: a new race of ratmen, the Skaven, like Men, only made from pure Chaos. They, like all things of Chaos, would work forever to destroy Humanity and all it had built, and to one day bring about the victory the Chaos Gods had been denied.<br />
Ulric saw too that the Daemon troops that had been routed had returned and carried away what was not eaten, and then had fled to the darkest corners of the world. They, too, these Beastmen, would watch and wait for their chance to reclaim the world from Men." <br />
<br />
<center> Ulric give me the fangs of the wolf. </center><br />
<center> Ulric give me the claws of the wolf. </center><br />
<center> Ulric give me the coat of the wolf. </center><br />
<center> And I will show your enemies the mercy of the wolf. </center><br />
<br />
<center> ''' ''Ivar Bjornson'' '''</center><br />
<center> ''' ''Chanting litanies to Ulric in battle'' '''</center><br />
<br />
[[File:Shield.jpg|center|250px]]</div>Bjornhttps://pathfinder.peeblesclan.com/index.php?title=Ivar_Bjornson&diff=1016Ivar Bjornson2025-09-27T20:50:37Z<p>Bjorn: </p>
<hr />
<div>[[File:Ivar5.jpg|center|center|center|750px]]<br />
<br />
'''Background:'''<br />
Kattagat, a sea village on the Sea of Claws in the Empire of man's Norldland province. A Thriving place, with good fishing in the fjord, and rare fertile farm land inland. It is these exact qualities that draw the attention of the forces of destruction to it. Norscans from across the sea, and Beastmen and Goblins from the Forests further inland. As such Kattagat has seen its fair share of raids, from both the land and the sea. It is a testament to the hardiness of these Nordlanders that call this place home that they are not only able to survive in this hostile environment, but actually still thrive in it. If you ask any of them, it is due to the villages devotion to Ulric, the god of Winter and War.<br />
It is in this village 27 years ago under a blood moon on the winter solstice that Ivar was born, the son of Bjorn a respected warrior and seamen of the village. Bjorn both respected his god, and knew the dangers of living near the sea of claw, so took to training Ivar in both the theology of Ulric, as well as the martial practices used to honor their god and their very survival. But unlike the savage Norscans across the sea, the Nordlanders also understood the value of knowledge and learning. Thus Bjorn also ensure his son had the education to not only read his lord Ulric's scriptures and tenants, but to write his opinions and thoughts down as well as speak the languages of the people that boarder Nordland.<br />
For 15 winters he taught his son, imparting all the knowledge he could into him, until finally he deemed him worthy of the highest of honors in his mind. Thus it was that he took his savings and bought Ivar passage to Middenheim to study at the high temple of Ulric, to learn the deeper secrets of their god so he could dedicate himself to serving Ulric in repayment for all the aid Ulric provides to the Village they called home, helping to preserve it from their marauding enemies bent on blood and destruction. Now 12 years later Ivar Bjornson is a fully fledged Warrior Priest of Ulric, taking his axe and shield where Ulric deems him needed, never questioning his lords wisdom. Indeed these trips sometimes even take him back to Kattagat to help fend off one raid or another. On these occasions, with the homecoming of his son, and the chance to fight at his side once again before he becomes to old to truly make a difference, Bjorn throws a feast, and that means good food, a warm hearth, all the ale you can drink, and many toasts to Ulric.<br />
Most recently these travels and service to Ulric have taken Ivar to the Drakwald Forest to help repel some raids by beastmen of Nurgle. This was a task he took to with holy zeal. Indeed Ivar was reaping a good harvest of the foul creatures, having slain 3 of them personally when a foul ritual took hold, and a blinding light filled the battlefield. When this subsided, Ivar and the steam tank he was helping protect were both gone, vanished to Ulric knows where.<br />
<br />
<center> Anoint yourself with the blood of Ulric that you shall not fear to bleed. </center><br />
<center> Pledge yourself to Ulric's work that you shall not fear to suffer. </center><br />
<center> Give yourself to Ulric that you shall not fear to die. </center><br />
<center> For if you find yourself alone, standing in fields of snow with the cool wind on your face, </center><br />
<center> Do not be troubled for you are in Ulrics' hunting grounds! </center><br />
<center> And you are already dead! </center><br />
<br />
<center> ''' ''Ivar Bjornson to the Imperial troops'' '''</center><br />
<center> ''' ''At the Battle of Drakwald'' '''</center><br />
<br />
[[File:Wolf_Axe.jpg|center|350px]]<br />
<br />
<br />
'''Appearance and Personality:'''<br />
Ivar Bjornson, Warrior priest of Ulric is an imposing site, standing 6'4" and weighing 17 stones. This makes him larger than the vast majority of the Empires citizens, yet still slightly smaller that the Norscans he is so accustomed to fighting. Like most Ulric followers Ivar has long Hair and a beard. In his case they are Platinum Blonde almost white. Ivar keeps his Head shaved on the sides and back, ringed in tattoos of Ulric runes and symbols, as well as down the left side of his face over his eye. The long hair from the top of his head pulled back in a long thick braid hanging to mid back. His armor is a fine well kept breastplate and pauldrons, wolf fangs ringing the waist of the breastplate, while wolf claws extend from his gauntlets like a wolfs paw. Looping over his breastplate is a thick chain, running diagonal from his right shoulder to left waist, from which hangs a copy of one of Ulrics most sacred books, The Ulric Creed. His legs are covered by high quality supple black leather robes lined on the inside with chainmail armor that hangs to his ankles, split to the waist in the front for movement. Over his plate pauldrons, a luxurious well kept grey wolf pelt drapes his shoulders with the head resting on the right shoulder, a black cape and hood, flowing from the pelt, The hood again made of supple black leather to keep the rain off his pate (after all Ulric requires his warriors to be brave, and forthright, not to bath in the rain).<br />
When most people meet Ivar for the first time they are usually surprised. Here is a man who obviously is a Norlander, and a following we Ulric to boot, so for sure he's going to be crude and boorish and a bit barbaric. Then Ivar greets them, and they find themselves in the presence of no boorish barbarian, but a well spoken educated man, that speaks many languages. Once the shock of this they find themselves in the presence of a true devotee of Ulric, honest, forthright, truthful in all things he approaches, and indeed even Jovial when around his companions and other warriors. Drinking ale and mead with them, laughing and boasting, telling tale of adventures past. This is part of the charm of Ivar that makes him such a good warrior priest to the god of battle, because these qualities, open, forthright, easy to drink and feast with, even for the lowest of warriors, these are the qualities that raises the spirits and keeps the morale of men high. <br />
This is but one shock people receive when meeting Ivar, the second shock comes later, when they first witness him in battle. Here in battle, all the refinement of his education vanishes, and he embodies the true savage spirit of Ulric, reveling in battle. The clash of arms and shields music to his ears as he wades into his enemies, just on the cusp of a berserker frenzy as his axe raises and falls, felling men like cords of wood as his booming voice chants out his litanies to Ulric, dedicating his battle to him and honoring him with each foe felled.<br />
Ivar loves battle, loves honoring his lord Ulric in his preferred method, but of all the enemies Ivar can face, none are more hated than the twisted mockeries of mankind, the Skaven and Beastmen. Ivar feels it his Sacred duty to finish Ulrics holy work that he started back in time primordial when he faced the forces of chaos in an epic war before finally pushing them back through the gates from whence they came to invade our world. As The holy scripture "The Ulric Creed" states of the aftermath of the war with Chaos:<br />
"The faithful shall not suffer the Chaos-thing's to live while they have breath in their bodies, for in the aftermath of Ulrics great war he returned to the battlefield, and he saw the rats feasting. In their great consumption the rats had taken on a remnant of those foul gods' power, and become like them: a new race of ratmen, the Skaven, like Men, only made from pure Chaos. They, like all things of Chaos, would work forever to destroy Humanity and all it had built, and to one day bring about the victory the Chaos Gods had been denied.<br />
Ulric saw too that the Daemon troops that had been routed had returned and carried away what was not eaten, and then had fled to the darkest corners of the world. They, too, these Beastmen, would watch and wait for their chance to reclaim the world from Men." <br />
<br />
<center> Ulric give me the fangs of the wolf. </center><br />
<center> Ulric give me the claws of the wolf. </center><br />
<center> Ulric give me the coat of the wolf. </center><br />
<center> And I will show your enemies the mercy of the wolf. </center><br />
<br />
<center> ''' ''Ivar Bjornson'' '''</center><br />
<center> ''' ''Chanting litanies to Ulric in battle'' '''</center><br />
<br />
[[File:Shield.jpg|center|250px]]</div>Bjornhttps://pathfinder.peeblesclan.com/index.php?title=Ivar_Bjornson&diff=1015Ivar Bjornson2025-09-27T19:53:56Z<p>Bjorn: </p>
<hr />
<div>[[File:Ivar5.jpg|center|center|center|750px]]<br />
<br />
'''Background:'''<br />
Kattagat, a sea village on the Sea of Claws in the Empire of man's Norldland province. A Thriving place, with good fishing in the fjord, and rare fertile farm land inland. It is these exact qualities that draw the attention of the forces of destruction to it. Norscans from across the sea, and Beastmen and Goblins from the Forests further inland. As such Kattagat has seen its fair share of raids, from both the land and the sea. It is a testament to the hardiness of these Nordlanders that call this place home that they are not only able to survive in this hostile environment, but actually still thrive in it. If you ask any of them, it is due to the villages devotion to Ulric, the god of Winter and War.<br />
It is in this village 27 years ago under a blood moon on the winter solstice that Ivar was born, the son of Bjorn a respected warrior and seamen of the village. Bjorn both respected his god, and knew the dangers of living near the sea of claw, so took to training Ivar in both the theology of Ulric, as well as the martial practices used to honor their god and their very survival. But unlike the savage Norscans across the sea, the Nordlanders also understood the value of knowledge and learning. Thus Bjorn also ensure his son had the education to not only read his lord Ulric's scriptures and tenants, but to write his opinions and thoughts down as well as speak the languages of the people that boarder Nordland.<br />
For 15 winters he taught his son, imparting all the knowledge he could into him, until finally he deemed him worthy of the highest of honors in his mind. Thus it was that he took his savings and bought Ivar passage to Middenheim to study at the high temple of Ulric, to learn the deeper secrets of their god so he could dedicate himself to serving Ulric in repayment for all the aid Ulric provides to the Village they called home, helping to preserve it from their marauding enemies bent on blood and destruction. Now 12 years later Ivar Bjornson is a fully fledged Warrior Priest of Ulric, taking his axe and shield where Ulric deems him needed, never questioning his lords wisdom. Indeed these trips sometimes even take him back to Kattagat to help fend off one raid or another. On these occasions, with the homecoming of his son, and the chance to fight at his side once again before he becomes to old to truly make a difference, Bjorn throws a feast, and that means good food, a warm hearth, all the ale you can drink, and many toasts to Ulric.<br />
Most recently these travels and service to Ulric have taken Ivar to the Drakwald Forest to help repel some raids by beastmen of Nurgle. This was a task he took to with holy zeal, for he hates nothing above the twisted mockeries of mankind, the Skaven and beastmen. Indeed Ivar was reaping a good harvest of the foul creatures, having slain 3 of them personally when a foul ritual took hold, and a blinding light filled the battlefield. When this subsided, Ivar and the steam tank he was helping protect were both gone, vanished to Ulric knows where.<br />
<br />
<center> Anoint yourself with the blood of Ulric that you shall not fear to bleed. </center><br />
<center> Pledge yourself to Ulric's work that you shall not fear to suffer. </center><br />
<center> Give yourself to Ulric that you shall not fear to die. </center><br />
<center> For if you find yourself alone, standing in fields of snow with the cool wind on your face, </center><br />
<center> Do not be troubled for you are in Ulrics' hunting grounds! </center><br />
<center> And you are already dead! </center><br />
<br />
<center> ''' ''Ivar Bjornson to the Imperial troops'' '''</center><br />
<center> ''' ''At the Battle of Drakwald'' '''</center><br />
<br />
[[File:Wolf_Axe.jpg|center|350px]]<br />
<br />
<br />
'''Appearance and Personality:'''<br />
Ivar Bjornson, Warrior priest of Ulric is an imposing site, standing 6'4" and weighing 17 stones. This makes him larger than the vast majority of the Empires citizens, yet still slightly smaller that the Norscans he is so accustomed to fighting. Like most Ulric followers Ivar has long Hair and a beard. In his case they are Platinum Blonde almost white. Ivar keeps his Head shaved on the sides and back, ringed in tattoos of Ulric runes and symbols, as well as down the left side of his face over his eye. The long hair from the top of his head pulled back in a long thick braid hanging to mid back. His armor is a fine well kept breastplate and pauldrons, wolf fangs ringing the waist of the breastplate, while wolf claws extend from his gauntlets like a wolfs paw. Looping over his breastplate is a thick chain, running diagonal from his right shoulder to left waist, from which hangs a copy of one of Ulrics most sacred books, The Ulric Creed. His legs are covered by high quality supple black leather robes lined on the inside with chainmail armor that hangs to his ankles, split to the waist in the front for movement. Over his plate pauldrons, a luxurious well kept grey wolf pelt drapes his shoulders with the head resting on the right shoulder, a black cape and hood, flowing from the pelt, The hood again made of supple black leather to keep the rain off his pate (after all Ulric requires his warriors to be brave, and forthright, not to bath in the rain).<br />
When most people meet Ivar for the first time they are usually surprised. Here is a man who obviously is a Norlander, and a following we Ulric to boot, so for sure he's going to be crude and boorish and a bit barbaric. Then Ivar greets them, and they find themselves in the presence of no boorish barbarian, but a well spoken educated man, that speaks many languages. Once the shock of this they find themselves in the presence of a true devotee of Ulric, honest, forthright, truthful in all things he approaches, and indeed even Jovial when around his companions and other warriors. Drinking ale and mead with them, laughing and boasting, telling tale of adventures past. This is part of the charm of Ivar that makes him such a good warrior priest to the god of battle, because these qualities, open, forthright, easy to drink and feast with, even for the lowest of warriors, these are the qualities that raises the spirits and keeps the morale of men high. <br />
This is but one shock people receive when meeting Ivar, the second shock comes later, when they first witness him in battle. Here in battle, all the refinement of his education vanishes, and he embodies the true savage spirit of Ulric, reveling in battle. The clash of arms and shields music to his ears as he wades into his enemies, just on the cusp of a berserker frenzy as his axe raises and falls, felling men like cords of wood as his booming voice chants out his litanies to Ulric, dedicating his battle to him and honoring him with each foe felled.<br />
Ivar loves battle, loves honoring his lord Ulric in his preferred method, but of all the enemies Ivar can face, none are more hated than the twisted mockeries of mankind, the Skaven and Beastmen. Ivar feels it his Sacred duty to finish Ulrics holy work that he started back in time primordial when he faced the forces of chaos in an epic war before finally pushing them back through the gates from whence they came to invade our world. As The holy scripture "The Ulric Creed" states of the aftermath of the war with Chaos:<br />
"The faithful shall not suffer the Chaos-thing's to live while they have breath in their bodies, for in the aftermath of Ulrics great war he returned to the battlefield, and he saw the rats feasting. In their great consumption the rats had taken on a remnant of those foul gods' power, and become like them: a new race of ratmen, the Skaven, like Men, only made from pure Chaos. They, like all things of Chaos, would work forever to destroy Humanity and all it had built, and to one day bring about the victory the Chaos Gods had been denied.<br />
Ulric saw too that the Daemon troops that had been routed had returned and carried away what was not eaten, and then had fled to the darkest corners of the world. They, too, these Beastmen, would watch and wait for their chance to reclaim the world from Men." <br />
<br />
<center> Ulric give me the fangs of the wolf. </center><br />
<center> Ulric give me the claws of the wolf. </center><br />
<center> Ulric give me the coat of the wolf. </center><br />
<center> And I will show your enemies the mercy of the wolf. </center><br />
<br />
<center> ''' ''Ivar Bjornson'' '''</center><br />
<center> ''' ''Chanting litanies to Ulric in battle'' '''</center><br />
<br />
[[File:Shield.jpg|center|250px]]</div>Bjornhttps://pathfinder.peeblesclan.com/index.php?title=Ivar_Bjornson&diff=1014Ivar Bjornson2025-09-27T19:29:22Z<p>Bjorn: </p>
<hr />
<div>[[File:Ivar5.jpg|center|center|center|750px]]<br />
<br />
'''Background:'''<br />
Kattagat, a sea village on the Sea of Claws in the Empire of man's Norldland province. A Thriving place, with good fishing in the fjord, and rare fertile farm land inland. It is these exact qualities that draw the attention of the forces of destruction to it. Norscans from across the sea, and Beastmen and Goblins from the Forests further inland. As such Kattagat has seen its fair share of raids, from both the land and the sea. It is a testament to the hardiness of these Nordlanders that call this place home that they are not only able to survive in this hostile environment, but actually still thrive in it. If you ask any of them, it is due to the villages devotion to Ulric, the god of Winter and War.<br />
It is in this village 27 years ago under a blood moon on the winter solstice that Ivar was born, the son of Bjorn a respected warrior and seamen of the village. Bjorn both respected his god, and knew the dangers of living near the sea of claw, so took to training Ivar in both the theology of Ulric, as well as the martial practices used to honor their god and their very survival. But unlike the savage Norscans across the sea, the Nordlanders also understood the value of knowledge and learning. Thus Bjorn also ensure his son had the education to not only read his lord Ulric's scriptures and tenants, but to write his opinions and thoughts down as well as speak the languages of the people that boarder Nordland.<br />
For 15 winters he taught his son, imparting all the knowledge he could into him, until finally he deemed him worthy of the highest of honors in his mind. Thus it was that he took his savings and bought Ivar passage to Middenheim to study at the high temple of Ulric, to learn the deeper secrets of their god so he could dedicate himself to serving Ulric in repayment for all the aid Ulric provides to the Village they called home, helping to preserve it from their marauding enemies bent on blood and destruction. Now 12 years later Ivar Bjornson is a fully fledged Warrior Priest of Ulric, taking his axe and shield where Ulric deems him needed, never questioning his lords wisdom. Indeed these trips sometimes even take him back to Kattagat to help fend off one raid or another. On these occasions, with the homecoming of his son, and the chance to fight at his side once again before he becomes to old to truly make a difference, Bjorn throws a feast, and that means good food, a warm hearth, all the ale you can drink, and many toasts to Ulric.<br />
Most recently these travels and service to Ulric have taken Ivar to the Drakwald Forest to help repel some raids by beastmen of Nurgle. This was a task he took to with holy zeal, for he considers it his sacred duty to complete Ulrics decree of ridding the world of chaos, especially the twisted mockeries of mankind, the Skaven and beastmen. Indeed Ivar was reaping a good harvest of the foul creatures, having slain 3 of them personally when a foul ritual took hold, and a blinding light filled the battlefield. When this subsided, Ivar and the steam tank he was helping protect were both gone, vanished to Ulric knows where.<br />
<br />
<center> Anoint yourself with the blood of Ulric that you shall not fear to bleed. </center><br />
<center> Pledge yourself to Ulric's work that you shall not fear to suffer. </center><br />
<center> Give yourself to Ulric that you shall not fear to die. </center><br />
<center> For if you find yourself alone, standing in fields of snow with the cool wind on your face, </center><br />
<center> Do not be troubled for you are in Ulrics' hunting grounds! </center><br />
<center> And you are already dead! </center><br />
<br />
<center> ''' ''Ivar Bjornson to the Imperial troops'' '''</center><br />
<center> ''' ''At the Battle of Drakwald'' '''</center><br />
<br />
[[File:Wolf_Axe.jpg|center|350px]]<br />
<br />
<br />
'''Appearance and Personality:'''<br />
Ivar Bjornson, Warrior priest of Ulric is an imposing site, standing 6'4" and weighing 17 stones. This makes him larger than the vast majority of the Empires citizens, yet still slightly smaller that the Norscans he is so accustomed to fighting. Like most Ulric followers Ivar has long Hair and a beard. In his case they are Platinum Blonde almost white. Ivar keeps his Head shaved on the sides and back, ringed in tattoos of Ulric runes and symbols, as well as down the left side of his face over his eye. The long hair from the top of his head pulled back in a long thick braid hanging to mid back. His armor is a fine well kept breastplate and pauldrons, wolf fangs ringing the waist of the breastplate, while wolf claws extend from his gauntlets like a wolfs paw. Looping over his breastplate is a thick chain, running diagonal from his right shoulder to left waist, from which hangs a copy of one of Ulrics most sacred books, The Ulric Creed. His legs are covered by high quality supple black leather robes lined on the inside with chainmail armor that hangs to his ankles, split to the waist in the front for movement. Over his plate pauldrons, a luxurious well kept grey wolf pelt drapes his shoulders with the head resting on the right shoulder, a black cape and hood, flowing from the pelt, The hood again made of supple black leather to keep the rain off his pate (after all Ulric requires his warriors to be brave, and forthright, not to bath in the rain).<br />
When most people meet Ivar for the first time they are usually surprised. Here is a man who obviously is a Norlander, and a following we Ulric to boot, so for sure he's going to be crude and boorish and a bit barbaric. Then Ivar greets them, and they find themselves in the presence of no boorish barbarian, but a well spoken educated man, that speaks many languages. Once the shock of this they find themselves in the presence of a true devotee of Ulric, honest, forthright, truthful in all things he approaches, and indeed even Jovial when around his companions and other warriors. Drinking ale and mead with them, laughing and boasting, telling tale of adventures past. This is part of the charm of Ivar that makes him such a good warrior priest to the god of battle, because these qualities, open, forthright, easy to drink and feast with, even for the lowest of warriors, these are the qualities that raises the spirits and keeps the morale of men high. <br />
This is but one shock people receive when meeting Ivar, the second shock comes later, when they first witness him in battle. Here in battle, all the refinement of his education vanishes, and he embodies the true savage spirit of Ulric, reveling in battle. The clash of arms and shields music to his ears as he wades into his enemies, just on the cusp of a berserker frenzy as his axe raises and falls, felling men like cords of wood as his booming voice chants out his litanies to Ulric, dedicating his battle to him and honoring him with each foe felled.<br />
Ivar loves battle, loves honoring his lord Ulric in his preferred method, but of all the enemies Ivar can face, none are more hated than the twisted mockeries of mankind, the Skaven and Beastmen. Ivar feels it his Sacred duty to finish Ulrics holy work that he started back in time primordial when he faced the forces of chaos in an epic war before finally pushing them back through the gates from whence they came to invade our world. As The holy scripture "The Ulric Creed" states of the aftermath of the war with Chaos:<br />
"The faithful shall not suffer the Chaos-thing's to live while they have breath in their bodies, for in the aftermath of Ulrics great war he returned to the battlefield, and he saw the rats feasting. In their great consumption the rats had taken on a remnant of those foul gods' power, and become like them: a new race of ratmen, the Skaven, like Men, only made from pure Chaos. They, like all things of Chaos, would work forever to destroy Humanity and all it had built, and to one day bring about the victory the Chaos Gods had been denied.<br />
Ulric saw too that the Daemon troops that had been routed had returned and carried away what was not eaten, and then had fled to the darkest corners of the world. They, too, these Beastmen, would watch and wait for their chance to reclaim the world from Men." <br />
<br />
<center> Ulric give me the fangs of the wolf. </center><br />
<center> Ulric give me the claws of the wolf. </center><br />
<center> Ulric give me the coat of the wolf. </center><br />
<center> And I will show your enemies the mercy of the wolf. </center><br />
<br />
<center> ''' ''Ivar Bjornson'' '''</center><br />
<center> ''' ''Chanting litanies to Ulric in battle'' '''</center><br />
<br />
[[File:Shield.jpg|center|250px]]</div>Bjornhttps://pathfinder.peeblesclan.com/index.php?title=Ivar_Bjornson&diff=1013Ivar Bjornson2025-09-27T18:32:59Z<p>Bjorn: </p>
<hr />
<div>[[File:Ivar5.jpg|center|center|center|750px]]<br />
<br />
'''Background:'''<br />
Kattagat, a sea village on the Sea of Claws in the Empire of man's Norldland province. A Thriving place, with good fishing in the fjord, and rare fertile farm land inland. It is these exact qualities that draw the attention of the forces of destruction to it. Norscans from across the sea, and Beastmen and Goblins from the Forests further inland. As such Kattagat has seen its fair share of raids, from both the land and the sea. It is a testament to the hardiness of these Nordlanders that call this place home that they are not only able to survive in this hostile environment, but actually still thrive in it. If you ask any of them, it is due to the villages devotion to Ulric, the god of Winter and War.<br />
It is in this village 27 years ago under a blood moon on the winter solstice that Ivar was born, the son of Bjorn a respected warrior and seamen of the village. Bjorn both respected his god, and knew the dangers of living near the sea of claw, so took to training Ivar in both the theology of Ulric, as well as the martial practices used to honor their god and their very survival. But unlike the savage Norscans across the sea, the Nordlanders also understood the value of knowledge and learning. Thus Bjorn also ensure his son had the education to not only read his lord Ulric's scriptures and tenants, but to write his opinions and thoughts down as well as speak the languages of the people that boarder Nordland.<br />
For 15 winters he taught his son, imparting all the knowledge he could into him, until finally he deemed him worthy of the highest of honors in his mind. Thus it was that he took his savings and bought Ivar passage to Middenheim to study at the high temple of Ulric, to learn the deeper secrets of their god so he could dedicate himself to serving Ulric in repayment for all the aid Ulric provides to the Village they called home, helping to preserve it from their marauding enemies bent on blood and destruction. Now 12 years later Ivar Bjornson is a fully fledged Warrior Priest of Ulric, taking his axe and shield where Ulric deems him needed, never questioning his lords wisdom. Indeed these trips sometimes even take him back to Kattagat to help fend off one raid or another. On these occasions, with the homecoming of his son, and the chance to fight at his side once again before he becomes to old to truly make a difference, Bjorn throws a feast, and that means good food, a warm hearth, all the ale you can drink, and many toasts to Ulric.<br />
Most recently these travels and service to Ulric have taken Ivar to the Drakwald Forest to help repel some raids by beastmen of Nurgle. This was a task he took to with holy zeal, for he considers it his sacred duty to complete Ulrics decree of ridding the world of chaos, especially the twisted mockeries of mankind, the Skaven and beastmen. Indeed Ivar was reaping a good harvest of the foul creatures, having slain 3 of them personally when a foul ritual took hold, and a blinding light filled the battlefield. When this subsided, Ivar and the steam tank he was helping protect were both gone, vanished to Ulric knows where.<br />
<br />
<center> Anoint yourself with the blood of Ulric that you shall not fear to bleed. </center><br />
<center> Pledge yourself to Ulric's work that you shall not fear to suffer. </center><br />
<center> Give yourself to Ulric that you shall not fear to die. </center><br />
<center> For if you find yourself alone, standing in fields of snow with the cool wind on your face, </center><br />
<center> Do not be troubled for you are in Ulrics' hunting grounds! </center><br />
<center> And you are already dead! </center><br />
<br />
<center> ''' ''Ivar Bjornson to the Imperial troops'' '''</center><br />
<center> ''' ''At the Battle of Drakwald'' '''</center><br />
<br />
[[File:Wolf_Axe.jpg|center|350px]]<br />
<br />
<br />
'''Appearance and Personality:'''<br />
Ivar Bjornson, Warrior priest of Ulric is an imposing site, standing 6'4" and weighing 17 stones. This makes him larger than the vast majority of the Empires citizens, yet still slightly smaller that the Norscans he is so accustomed to fighting. Like most Ulric followers Ivar has long Hair and a beard. In his case they are Platinum Blonde almost white. Ivar keeps his Head shaved on the sides and back, ringed in tattoos of Ulric runes and symbols, as well as down the left side of his face over his eye. The long hair from the top of his head pulled back in a long thick braid hanging to mid back. His armor is a fine well kept breastplate and pauldrons, wolf fangs ringing the waist of the breastplate, while wolf claws extend from his gauntlets like a wolfs paw. Looping over his breastplate is a thick chain, running diagonal from his right shoulder to left waist, from which hangs a copy of one of Ulrics most sacred books, The Ulric Creed. His legs are covered by high quality supple black leather robes lined on the inside with chainmail armor that hangs to his ankles, split to the waist in the front for movement. Over his plate pauldrons, a luxurious well kept grey wolf pelt drapes his shoulders with the head resting on the right shoulder, a black cape and hood, flowing from the pelt, The hood again made of supple black leather to keep the rain off his pate (after all Ulric requires his warriors to be brave, and forthright, not to bath in the rain).<br />
When most people meet Ivar for the first time they are usually surprised. Here is a man who obviously is a Norlander, and a following we Ulric to boot, so for sure he's going to be crude and boorish and a bit barbaric. Then Ivar greets them, and they find themselves in the presence of no boorish barbarian, but a well spoken educated man, that speaks many languages. Once the shock of this they find themselves in the presence of a true devotee of Ulric, honest, forthright, truthful in all things he approaches, and indeed even Jovial when around his companions and other warriors. Drinking ale and mead with them, laughing and boasting, telling tale of adventures past. This is part of the charm of Ivar that makes him such a good warrior priest to the god of battle, because these qualities, open, forthright, easy to drink and feast with, even for the lowest of warriors, these are the qualities that raises the spirits and keeps the morale of men high. <br />
This is but one shock people receive when meeting Ivar, the second shock comes later, when they first witness him in battle. Here in battle, all the refinement of his education vanishes, and he embodies the true savage spirit of Ulric, reveling in battle. The clash of arms and shields music to his ears as he wades into his enemies, just on the cusp of a berserker frenzy as his axe raises and falls, felling men like cords of wood as his booming voice chants out his litanies to Ulric, dedicating his battle to him and honoring him with each foe felled.<br />
<br />
<center> Ulric give me the fangs of the wolf. </center><br />
<center> Ulric give me the claws of the wolf. </center><br />
<center> Ulric give me the coat of the wolf. </center><br />
<center> And I will show your enemies the mercy of the wolf. </center><br />
<br />
<center> ''' ''Ivar Bjornson'' '''</center><br />
<center> ''' ''Chanting litanies to Ulric in battle'' '''</center><br />
<br />
[[File:Shield.jpg|center|250px]]</div>Bjornhttps://pathfinder.peeblesclan.com/index.php?title=Ivar_Bjornson&diff=1012Ivar Bjornson2025-09-27T18:31:42Z<p>Bjorn: </p>
<hr />
<div>[[File:Ivar5.jpg|center|center|center|750px]]<br />
<br />
'''Background:'''<br />
Kattagat, a sea village on the Sea of Claws in the Empire of man's Norldland province. A Thriving place, with good fishing in the fjord, and rare fertile farm land inland. It is these exact qualities that draw the attention of the forces of destruction to it. Norscans from across the sea, and Beastmen and Goblins from the Forests further inland. As such Kattagat has seen its fair share of raids, from both the land and the sea. It is a testament to the hardiness of these Nordlanders that call this place home that they are not only able to survive in this hostile environment, but actually still thrive in it. If you ask any of them, it is due to the villages devotion to Ulric, the god of Winter and War.<br />
It is in this village 27 years ago under a blood moon on the winter solstice that Ivar was born, the son of Bjorn a respected warrior and seamen of the village. Bjorn both respected his god, and knew the dangers of living near the sea of claw, so took to training Ivar in both the theology of Ulric, as well as the martial practices used to honor their god and their very survival. But unlike the savage Norscans across the sea, the Nordlanders also understood the value of knowledge and learning. Thus Bjorn also ensure his son had the education to not only read his lord Ulric's scriptures and tenants, but to write his opinions and thoughts down as well as speak the languages of the people that boarder Nordland.<br />
For 15 winters he taught his son, imparting all the knowledge he could into him, until finally he deemed him worthy of the highest of honors in his mind. Thus it was that he took his savings and bought Ivar passage to Middenheim to study at the high temple of Ulric, to learn the deeper secrets of their god so he could dedicate himself to serving Ulric in repayment for all the aid Ulric provides to the Village they called home, helping to preserve it from their marauding enemies bent on blood and destruction. Now 12 years later Ivar Bjornson is a fully fledged Warrior Priest of Ulric, taking his axe and shield where Ulric deems him needed, never questioning his lords wisdom. Indeed these trips sometimes even take him back to Kattagat to help fend off one raid or another. On these occasions, with the homecoming of his son, and the chance to fight at his side once again before he becomes to old to truly make a difference, Bjorn throws a feast, and that means good food, a warm hearth, all the ale you can drink, and many toasts to Ulric.<br />
Most recently these travels and service to Ulric have taken Ivar to the Drakwald Forest to help repel some raids by beastmen of Nurgle. This was a task he took to with holy zeal, for he considers it his sacred duty to complete Ulrics decree of ridding the world of chaos, especially the twisted mockeries of mankind, the Skaven and beastmen. Indeed Ivar was reaping a good harvest of the foul creatures, having slain 3 of them personally when a foul ritual took hold, and a blinding light filled the battlefield. When this subsided, Ivar and the steam tank he was helping protect were both gone, vanished to Ulric knows where.<br />
<br />
<center> Anoint yourself with the blood of Ulric that you shall not fear to bleed. </center><br />
<center> Pledge yourself to Ulric's work that you shall not fear to suffer. </center><br />
<center> Give yourself to Ulric that you shall not fear to die. </center><br />
<center> For if you find yourself alone, standing in fields of snow with the cool wind on your face, </center><br />
<center> Do not be troubled for you are in Ulrics' hunting grounds! </center><br />
<center> And you are already dead! </center><br />
<br />
<center> ''' ''Ivar Bjornson to the Imperial troops'' '''</center><br />
<center> ''' ''At the Battle of Drakwald'' '''</center><br />
<br />
[[File:Wolf_Axe.jpg|center|350px]]<br />
<br />
<br />
'''Appearance and Personality:'''<br />
Ivar Bjornson, Warrior priest of Ulric is an imposing site, standing 6'4" and weighing 17 stones. This makes him larger than the vast majority of the Empires citizens, yet still slightly smaller that the Norscans he is so accustomed to fighting. Like most Ulric followers Ivar has long Hair and a beard. In his case they are Platinum Blonde almost white. Ivar keeps his Head shaved on the sides and back, ringed in tattoos of Ulric runes and symbols, as well as down the left side of his face over his eye. The long hair from the top of his head pulled back in a long thick braid hanging to mid back. His armor is a fine well kept breastplate and pauldrons, wolf fangs ringing the waist of the breastplate, while wolf claws extend from his gauntlets like a wolfs paw. Looping over this a thick chain, running diagonal from his right shoulder to left waist, from which hangs a copy of one of Ulrics most sacred books, The Ulric Creed. His legs are covered by high quality supple black leather robes lined on the inside with chainmail armor that hangs to his ankles, split to the waist in the front for movement. Over his plate pauldrons, a luxurious well kept grey wolf pelt drapes his shoulders with the head resting on the right shoulder, a black cape and hood, flowing from the pelt, The hood again made of supple black leather to keep the rain off his pate (after all Ulric requires his warriors to be brave, and forthright, not to bath in the rain).<br />
When most people meet Ivar for the first time they are usually surprised. Here is a man who obviously is a Norlander, and a following we Ulric to boot, so for sure he's going to be crude and boorish and a bit barbaric. Then Ivar greets them, and they find themselves in the presence of no boorish barbarian, but a well spoken educated man, that speaks many languages. Once the shock of this they find themselves in the presence of a true devotee of Ulric, honest, forthright, truthful in all things he approaches, and indeed even Jovial when around his companions and other warriors. Drinking ale and mead with them, laughing and boasting, telling tale of adventures past. This is part of the charm of Ivar that makes him such a good warrior priest to the god of battle, because these qualities, open, forthright, easy to drink and feast with, even for the lowest of warriors, these are the qualities that raises the spirits and keeps the morale of men high. <br />
This is but one shock people receive when meeting Ivar, the second shock comes later, when they first witness him in battle. Here in battle, all the refinement of his education vanishes, and he embodies the true savage spirit of Ulric, reveling in battle. The clash of arms and shields music to his ears as he wades into his enemies, just on the cusp of a berserker frenzy as his axe raises and falls, felling men like cords of wood as his booming voice chants out his litanies to Ulric, dedicating his battle to him and honoring him with each foe felled.<br />
<br />
<center> Ulric give me the fangs of the wolf. </center><br />
<center> Ulric give me the claws of the wolf. </center><br />
<center> Ulric give me the coat of the wolf. </center><br />
<center> And I will show your enemies the mercy of the wolf. </center><br />
<br />
<center> ''' ''Ivar Bjornson'' '''</center><br />
<center> ''' ''Chanting litanies to Ulric in battle'' '''</center><br />
<br />
[[File:Shield.jpg|center|250px]]</div>Bjornhttps://pathfinder.peeblesclan.com/index.php?title=Ivar_Bjornson&diff=1011Ivar Bjornson2025-09-27T18:30:46Z<p>Bjorn: </p>
<hr />
<div>[[File:Ivar5.jpg|center|center|center|750px]]<br />
<br />
'''Background:'''<br />
Kattagat, a sea village on the Sea of Claws in the Empire of man's Norldland province. A Thriving place, with good fishing in the fjord, and rare fertile farm land inland. It is these exact qualities that draw the attention of the forces of destruction to it. Norscans from across the sea, and Beastmen and Goblins from the Forests further inland. As such Kattagat has seen its fair share of raids, from both the land and the sea. It is a testament to the hardiness of these Nordlanders that call this place home that they are not only able to survive in this hostile environment, but actually still thrive in it. If you ask any of them, it is due to the villages devotion to Ulric, the god of Winter and War.<br />
It is in this village 27 years ago under a blood moon on the winter solstice that Ivar was born, the son of Bjorn a respected warrior and seamen of the village. Bjorn both respected his god, and knew the dangers of living near the sea of claw, so took to training Ivar in both the theology of Ulric, as well as the martial practices used to honor their god and their very survival. But unlike the savage Norscans across the sea, the Nordlanders also understood the value of knowledge and learning. Thus Bjorn also ensure his son had the education to not only read his lord Ulric's scriptures and tenants, but to write his opinions and thoughts down as well as speak the languages of the people that boarder Nordland.<br />
For 15 winters he taught his son, imparting all the knowledge he could into him, until finally he deemed him worthy of the highest of honors in his mind. Thus it was that he took his savings and bought Ivar passage to Middenheim to study at the high temple of Ulric, to learn the deeper secrets of their god so he could dedicate himself to serving Ulric in repayment for all the aid Ulric provides to the Village they called home, helping to preserve it from their marauding enemies bent on blood and destruction. Now 12 years later Ivar Bjornson is a fully fledged Warrior Priest of Ulric, taking his axe and shield where Ulric deems him needed, never questioning his lords wisdom. Indeed these trips sometimes even take him back to Kattagat to help fend off one raid or another. On these occasions, with the homecoming of his son, and the chance to fight at his side once again before he becomes to old to truly make a difference, Bjorn throws a feast, and that means good food, a warm hearth, all the ale you can drink, and many toasts to Ulric.<br />
Most recently these travels and service to Ulric have taken Ivar to the Drakwald Forest to help repel some raids by beastmen of Nurgle. This was a task he took to with holy zeal, for he considers it his sacred duty to complete Ulrics decree of ridding the world of chaos, especially the twisted mockeries of mankind, the Skaven and beastmen. Indeed Ivar was reaping a good harvest of the foul creatures, having slain 3 of them personally when a foul ritual took hold, and a blinding light filled the battlefield. When this subsided, Ivar and the steam tank he was helping protect were both gone, vanished to Ulric knows where.<br />
<br />
<center> Anoint yourself with the blood of Ulric that you shall not fear to bleed. </center><br />
<center> Pledge yourself to Ulric's work that you shall not fear to suffer. </center><br />
<center> Give yourself to Ulric that you shall not fear to die. </center><br />
<center> For if you find yourself alone, standing in fields of snow with the cool wind on your face, </center><br />
<center> Do not be troubled for you are in Ulrics' hunting grounds! </center><br />
<center> And you are already dead! </center><br />
<br />
<center> ''' ''Ivar Bjornson to the Imperial troops'' '''</center><br />
<center> ''' ''At the Battle of Drakwald'' '''</center><br />
<br />
[[File:Wolf_Axe.jpg|center|350px]]<br />
<br />
<br />
'''Appearance and Personality:'''<br />
Ivar Bjornson, Warrior priest of Ulric is an imposing site, standing 6'4" and weighing 17 stones. This makes him larger than the vast majority of the Empires citizens, yet still slightly smaller that the Norscans he is so accustomed to fighting. Like most Ulric followers Ivar has long Hair and a beard. In his case they are Platinum Blonde almost white. Ivar keeps his Head shaved on the sides and back, ringed in tattoos of Ulric runes and symbols, as well as down the left side of his face over his eye. The long hair from the top of his head pulled back in a long thick braid hanging to mid back. His armor is a fine well kept plate breastplate and pauldrons, wolf fangs ringing the waist of the breast plate, while wolf claws extend from his gauntlets like a wolfs paw. Looping over this a thick chain, running diagonal from his right shoulder to left waist, from which hangs a copy of one of Ulrics most sacred books, The Ulric Creed. His legs are covered by high quality supple black leather robes lined on the inside with chainmail armor that hangs to his ankles, split to the waist in the front for movement. Over his plate pauldrons, a luxurious well kept grey wolf pelt drapes his shoulders with the head resting on the right shoulder, a black cape and hood, flowing from the pelt, The hood again made of supple black leather to keep the rain off his pate (after all Ulric requires his warriors to be brave, and forthright, not to bath in the rain).<br />
When most people meet Ivar for the first time they are usually surprised. Here is a man who obviously is a Norlander, and a following we Ulric to boot, so for sure he's going to be crude and boorish and a bit barbaric. Then Ivar greets them, and they find themselves in the presence of no boorish barbarian, but a well spoken educated man, that speaks many languages. Once the shock of this they find themselves in the presence of a true devotee of Ulric, honest, forthright, truthful in all things he approaches, and indeed even Jovial when around his companions and other warriors. Drinking ale and mead with them, laughing and boasting, telling tale of adventures past. This is part of the charm of Ivar that makes him such a good warrior priest to the god of battle, because these qualities, open, forthright, easy to drink and feast with, even for the lowest of warriors, these are the qualities that raises the spirits and keeps the morale of men high. <br />
This is but one shock people receive when meeting Ivar, the second shock comes later, when they first witness him in battle. Here in battle, all the refinement of his education vanishes, and he embodies the true savage spirit of Ulric, reveling in battle. The clash of arms and shields music to his ears as he wades into his enemies, just on the cusp of a berserker frenzy as his axe raises and falls, felling men like cords of wood as his booming voice chants out his litanies to Ulric, dedicating his battle to him and honoring him with each foe felled.<br />
<br />
<center> Ulric give me the fangs of the wolf. </center><br />
<center> Ulric give me the claws of the wolf. </center><br />
<center> Ulric give me the coat of the wolf. </center><br />
<center> And I will show your enemies the mercy of the wolf. </center><br />
<br />
<center> ''' ''Ivar Bjornson'' '''</center><br />
<center> ''' ''Chanting litanies to Ulric in battle'' '''</center><br />
<br />
[[File:Shield.jpg|center|250px]]</div>Bjornhttps://pathfinder.peeblesclan.com/index.php?title=Ivar_Bjornson&diff=1010Ivar Bjornson2025-09-27T18:28:33Z<p>Bjorn: </p>
<hr />
<div>[[File:Ivar5.jpg|center|center|center|750px]]<br />
<br />
'''Background:'''<br />
Kattagat, a sea village on the Sea of Claws in the Empire of man's Norldland province. A Thriving place, with good fishing in the fjord, and rare fertile farm land inland. It is these exact qualities that draw the attention of the forces of destruction to it. Norscans from across the sea, and Beastmen and Goblins from the Forests further inland. As such Kattagat has seen its fair share of raids, from both the land and the sea. It is a testament to the hardiness of these Nordlanders that call this place home that they are not only able to survive in this hostile environment, but actually still thrive in it. If you ask any of them, it is due to the villages devotion to Ulric, the god of Winter and War.<br />
It is in this village 27 years ago under a blood moon on the winter solstice that Ivar was born, the son of Bjorn a respected warrior and seamen of the village. Bjorn both respected his god, and knew the dangers of living near the sea of claw, so took to training Ivar in both the theology of Ulric, as well as the martial practices used to honor their god and their very survival. But unlike the savage Norscans across the sea, the Nordlanders also understood the value of knowledge and learning. Thus Bjorn also ensure his son had the education to not only read his lord Ulric's scriptures and tenants, but to write his opinions and thoughts down as well as speak the languages of the people that boarder Nordland.<br />
For 15 winters he taught his son, imparting all the knowledge he could into him, until finally he deemed him worthy of the highest of honors in his mind. Thus it was that he took his savings and bought Ivar passage to Middenheim to study at the high temple of Ulric, to learn the deeper secrets of their god so he could dedicate himself to serving Ulric in repayment for all the aid Ulric provides to the Village they called home, helping to preserve it from their marauding enemies bent on blood and destruction. Now 12 years later Ivar Bjornson is a fully fledged Warrior Priest of Ulric, taking his axe and shield where Ulric deems him needed, never questioning his lords wisdom. Indeed these trips sometimes even take him back to Kattagat to help fend off one raid or another. On these occasions, with the homecoming of his son, and the chance to fight at his side once again before he becomes to old to truly make a difference, Bjorn throws a feast, and that means good food, a warm hearth, all the ale you can drink, and many toasts to Ulric.<br />
Most recently these travels and service to Ulric have taken Ivar to the Drakwald Forest to help repel some raids by beastmen of Nurgle. This was a task he took to with holy zeal, for he considers it his sacred duty to complete Ulrics decree of ridding the world of chaos, especially the twisted mockeries of mankind, the Skaven and beastmen. Indeed Ivar was reaping a good harvest of the foul creatures, having slain 3 of them personally when a foul ritual took hold, and a blinding light filled the battlefield. When this subsided, Ivar and the steam tank he was helping protect were both gone, vanished to Ulric knows where.<br />
<br />
<center> Anoint yourself with the blood of Ulric that you shall not fear to bleed. </center><br />
<center> Pledge yourself to Ulric's work that you shall not fear to suffer. </center><br />
<center> Give yourself to Ulric that you shall not fear to die. </center><br />
<center> For if you find yourself alone, standing in fields of snow with the cool wind on your face, </center><br />
<center> Do not be troubled for you are in Ulrics' hunting grounds! </center><br />
<center> And you are already dead! </center><br />
<br />
<center> ''' ''Ivar Bjornson to the Imperial troops'' '''</center><br />
<center> ''' ''At the Battle of Drakwald'' '''</center><br />
<br />
[[File:Wolf_Axe.jpg|center|350px]]<br />
<br />
<br />
'''Appearance and Personality:'''<br />
Ivar Bjornson, Warrior priest of Ulric is an imposing site, standing 6'4" and weighing 17 stones. This makes him larger than the vast majority of the Empires citizens, yet still slightly smaller that the Norscans he is so accustomed to fighting. Like most Ulric followers Ivar has long Hair and a beard. In his case they are Platinum Blonde almost white. Ivar keeps his Head shaved on the sides and back, ringed in tattoos of Ulric runes and symbols, as well as down the left side of his face over his eye. The long hair from the top of his head pulled back in a long thick braid hanging to mid back. His armor is a fine well kept plate breastplate and pauldrons, wolf fangs ringing the waist of the breast plate. Looping over this a thick chain, running diagonal from his right shoulder to left waist, from which hangs a copy of one of Ulrics most sacred books, The Ulric Creed. His legs are covered by high quality supple black leather robes lined on the inside with chainmail armor that hangs to his ankles, split to the waist in the front for movement. Over his plate pauldrons, a luxurious well kept grey wolf pelt drapes his shoulders with the head resting on the right shoulder, a black cape and hood, flowing from the pelt, The hood again made of supple black leather to keep the rain off his pate (after all Ulric requires his warriors to be brave, and forthright, not to bath in the rain).<br />
When most people meet Ivar for the first time they are usually surprised. Here is a man who obviously is a Norlander, and a following we Ulric to boot, so for sure he's going to be crude and boorish and a bit barbaric. Then Ivar greets them, and they find themselves in the presence of no boorish barbarian, but a well spoken educated man, that speaks many languages. Once the shock of this they find themselves in the presence of a true devotee of Ulric, honest, forthright, truthful in all things he approaches, and indeed even Jovial when around his companions and other warriors. Drinking ale and mead with them, laughing and boasting, telling tale of adventures past. This is part of the charm of Ivar that makes him such a good warrior priest to the god of battle, because these qualities, open, forthright, easy to drink and feast with, even for the lowest of warriors, these are the qualities that raises the spirits and keeps the morale of men high. <br />
This is but one shock people receive when meeting Ivar, the second shock comes later, when they first witness him in battle. Here in battle, all the refinement of his education vanishes, and he embodies the true savage spirit of Ulric, reveling in battle. The clash of arms and shields music to his ears as he wades into his enemies, just on the cusp of a berserker frenzy as his axe raises and falls, felling men like cords of wood as his booming voice chants out his litanies to Ulric, dedicating his battle to him and honoring him with each foe felled.<br />
<br />
<center> Ulric give me the fangs of the wolf. </center><br />
<center> Ulric give me the claws of the wolf. </center><br />
<center> Ulric give me the coat of the wolf. </center><br />
<center> And I will show your enemies the mercy of the wolf. </center><br />
<br />
<center> ''' ''Ivar Bjornson'' '''</center><br />
<center> ''' ''Chanting litanies to Ulric in battle'' '''</center><br />
<br />
[[File:Shield.jpg|center|250px]]</div>Bjornhttps://pathfinder.peeblesclan.com/index.php?title=Ivar_Bjornson&diff=1009Ivar Bjornson2025-09-27T12:51:20Z<p>Bjorn: </p>
<hr />
<div>[[File:Ivar5.jpg|center|center|center|750px]]<br />
<br />
'''Background:'''<br />
Kattagat, a sea village on the Sea of Claws in the Empire of man's Norldland province. A Thriving place, with good fishing in the fjord, and rare fertile farm land inland. It is these exact qualities that draw the attention of the forces of destruction to it. Norscans from across the sea, and Beastmen and Goblins from the Forests further inland. As such Kattagat has seen its fair share of raids, from both the land and the sea. It is a testament to the hardiness of these Nordlanders that call this place home that they are not only able to survive in this hostile environment, but actually still thrive in it. If you ask any of them, it is due to the villages devotion to Ulric, the god of Winter and War.<br />
It is in this village 27 years ago under a blood moon on the winter solstice that Ivar was born, the son of Bjorn a respected warrior and seamen of the village. Bjorn both respected his god, and knew the dangers of living near the sea of claw, so took to training Ivar in both the theology of Ulric, as well as the martial practices used to honor their god and their very survival. But unlike the savage Norscans across the sea, the Nordlanders also understood the value of knowledge and learning. Thus Bjorn also ensure his son had the education to not only read his lord Ulric's scriptures and tenants, but to write his opinions and thoughts down as well as speak the languages of the people that boarder Nordland.<br />
For 15 winters he taught his son, imparting all the knowledge he could into him, until finally he deemed him worthy of the highest of honors in his mind. Thus it was that he took his savings and bought Ivar passage to Middenheim to study at the high temple of Ulric, to learn the deeper secrets of their god so he could dedicate himself to serving Ulric in repayment for all the aid Ulric provides to the Village they called home, helping to preserve it from their marauding enemies bent on blood and destruction. Now 12 years later Ivar Bjornson is a fully fledged Warrior Priest of Ulric, taking his axe and shield where Ulric deems him needed, never questioning his lords wisdom. Indeed these trips sometimes even take him back to Kattagat to help fend off one raid or another. On these occasions, with the homecoming of his son, and the chance to fight at his side once again before he becomes to old to truly make a difference, Bjorn throws a feast, and that means good food, a warm hearth, all the ale you can drink, and many toasts to Ulric.<br />
Most recently these travels and service to Ulric have taken Ivar to the Drakwald Forest to help repel some raids by beastmen of Nurgle. This was a task he took to with holy zeal, for he considers it his sacred duty to complete Ulrics decree of ridding the world of chaos, especially the twisted mockeries of mankind, the Skaven and beastmen. Indeed Ivar was reaping a good harvest of the foul creatures, having slain 3 of them personally when a foul ritual took hold, and a blinding light filled the battlefield. When this subsided, Ivar and the steam tank he was helping protect were both gone, vanished to Ulric knows where.<br />
<br />
<center> Anoint yourself with the blood of Ulric that you shall not fear to bleed. </center><br />
<center> Pledge yourself to Ulric's work that you shall not fear to suffer. </center><br />
<center> Give yourself to Ulric that you shall not fear to die. </center><br />
<center> For if you find yourself alone, standing in fields of snow with the cool wind on your face, </center><br />
<center> Do not be troubled for you are in Ulrics' hunting grounds! </center><br />
<center> And you are already dead! </center><br />
<br />
<center> ''' ''Ivar Bjornson to the Imperial troops'' '''</center><br />
<center> ''' ''At the Battle of Drakwald'' '''</center><br />
<br />
[[File:Wolf_Axe.jpg|center|350px]]<br />
<br />
<br />
'''Appearance and Personality:'''<br />
Ivar Bjornson, Warrior priest of Ulric is an imposing site, standing 6'4" and weighing 17 stones. This makes him larger than the vast majority of the Empires citizens, yet still slightly smaller that the Norscans he is so accustomed to fighting. Like most Ulric followers Ivar has long Hair and a beard. In his case they are Platinum Blonde almost white. Ivar keeps his Head shaved on the sides and back, ringed in tattoos of Ulric runes and symbols, as well as down the left side of his face over his eye. The long hair from the top of his head pulled back in a long thick braid hanging to mid back. His armor is a fine well kept plate breastplate and pauldrons, wolf fangs ringing the waist of the breast plate. Loops over this a thick chain, running diagonal from his right shoulder to left waist, from which hangs a copy of one of Ulrics most sacred books, The Ulric Creed. His legs are covered by high quality supple black leather robes lined on the inside with chainmail armor that hangs to his ankles, split to the waist in the front for movement. Over his plate pauldrons, a luxurious well kept grey wolf pelt drapes his shoulders with the head resting on the right shoulder, a black cape and hood, flowing from the pelt, The hood again made of supple black leather to keep the rain off his pate (after all Ulric requires his warriors to be brave, and forthright, not to bath in the rain).<br />
When most people meet Ivar for the first time they are usually surprised. Here is a man who obviously is a Norlander, and a following we Ulric to boot, so for sure he's going to be crude and boorish and a bit barbaric. Then Ivar greets them, and they find themselves in the presence of no boorish barbarian, but a well spoken educated man, that speaks many languages. Once the shock of this they find themselves in the presence of a true devotee of Ulric, honest, forthright, truthful in all things he approaches, and indeed even Jovial when around his companions and other warriors. Drinking ale and mead with them, laughing and boasting, telling tale of adventures past. This is part of the charm of Ivar that makes him such a good warrior priest to the god of battle, because these qualities, open, forthright, easy to drink and feast with, even for the lowest of warriors, these are the qualities that raises the spirits and keeps the morale of men high. <br />
This is but one shock people receive when meeting Ivar, the second shock comes later, when they first witness him in battle. Here in battle, all the refinement of his education vanishes, and he embodies the true savage spirit of Ulric, reveling in battle. The clash of arms and shields music to his ears as he wades into his enemies, just on the cusp of a berserker frenzy as his axe raises and falls, felling men like cords of wood as his booming voice chants out his litanies to Ulric, dedicating his battle to him and honoring him with each foe felled.<br />
<br />
<center> Ulric give me the fangs of the wolf. </center><br />
<center> Ulric give me the claws of the wolf. </center><br />
<center> Ulric give me the coat of the wolf. </center><br />
<center> And I will show your enemies the mercy of the wolf. </center><br />
<br />
<center> ''' ''Ivar Bjornson'' '''</center><br />
<center> ''' ''Chanting litanies to Ulric in battle'' '''</center><br />
<br />
[[File:Shield.jpg|center|250px]]</div>Bjornhttps://pathfinder.peeblesclan.com/index.php?title=Ivar_Bjornson&diff=1008Ivar Bjornson2025-09-27T04:54:18Z<p>Bjorn: </p>
<hr />
<div>[[File:Ivar5.jpg|center|center|center|750px]]<br />
<br />
'''Background:'''<br />
Kattagat, a sea village on the Sea of Claws in the Empire of man's Norldland province. A Thriving place, with good fishing in the fjord, and rare fertile farm land inland. It is these exact qualities that draw the attention of the forces of destruction to it. Norscans from across the sea, and Beastmen and Goblins from the Forests further inland. As such Kattagat has seen its fair share of raids, from both the land and the sea. It is a testament to the hardiness of these Nordlanders that call this place home that they are not only able to survive in this hostile environment, but actually still thrive in it. If you ask any of them, it is due to the villages devotion to Ulric, the god of Winter and War.<br />
It is in this village 27 years ago under a blood moon on the winter solstice that Ivar was born, the son of Bjorn a respected warrior and seamen of the village. Bjorn both respected his god, and knew the dangers of living near the sea of claw, so took to training Ivar in both the theology of Ulric, as well as the martial practices used to honor their god and their very survival. But unlike the savage Norscans across the sea, the Nordlanders also understood the value of knowledge and learning. Thus Bjorn also ensure his son had the education to not only read his lord Ulric's scriptures and tenants, but to write his opinions and thoughts down as well as speak the languages of the people that boarder Nordland.<br />
For 15 winters he taught his son, imparting all the knowledge he could into him, until finally he deemed him worthy of the highest of honors in his mind. Thus it was that he took his savings and bought Ivar passage to Middenheim to study at the high temple of Ulric, to learn the deeper secrets of their god so he could dedicate himself to serving Ulric in repayment for all the aid Ulric provides to the Village they called home, helping to preserve it from their marauding enemies bent on blood and destruction. Now 12 years later Ivar Bjornson is a fully fledged Warrior Priest of Ulric, taking his axe and shield where Ulric deems him needed, never questioning his lords wisdom. Indeed these trips sometimes even take him back to Kattagat to help fend off one raid or another. On these occasions, with the homecoming of his son, and the chance to fight at his side once again before he becomes to old to truly make a difference, Bjorn throws a feast, and that means good food, a warm hearth, all the ale you can drink, and many toasts to Ulric.<br />
Most recently these travels and service to Ulric have taken Ivar to the Drakwald Forest to help repel some raids by beastmen of Nurgle.<br />
<br />
<center> Anoint yourself with the blood of Ulric that you shall not fear to bleed. </center><br />
<center> Pledge yourself to Ulric's work that you shall not fear to suffer. </center><br />
<center> Give yourself to Ulric that you shall not fear to die. </center><br />
<center> For if you find yourself alone, standing in fields of snow with the cool wind on your face, </center><br />
<center> Do not be troubled for you are in Ulrics' hunting grounds! </center><br />
<center> And you are already dead! </center><br />
<br />
<center> ''' ''Ivar Bjornson to the Imperial troops'' '''</center><br />
<center> ''' ''At the Battle of Drakwald'' '''</center><br />
<br />
[[File:Wolf_Axe.jpg|center|350px]]<br />
<br />
<br />
'''Appearance and Personality:'''<br />
Ivar Bjornson, Warrior priest of Ulric is an imposing site, standing 6'4" and weighing 17 stones. This makes him larger than the vast majority of the Empires citizens, yet still slightly smaller that the Norscans he is so accustomed to fighting. Like most Ulric followers Ivar has long Hair and a beard. In his case they are Platinum Blonde almost white. Ivar keeps his Head shaved on the sides and back, ringed in tattoos of Ulric runes and symbols, as well as down the left side of his face over his eye. The long hair from the top of his head pulled back in a long thick braid hanging to mid back. His armor is a fine well kept plate breastplate and pauldrons, wolf fangs ringing the waist of the breast plate. Loops over this a thick chain, running diagonal from his right shoulder to left waist, from which hangs a copy of one of Ulrics most sacred books, The Ulric Creed. His legs are covered by high quality supple black leather robes lined on the inside with chainmail armor that hangs to his ankles, split to the waist in the front for movement. Over his plate pauldrons, a luxurious well kept grey wolf pelt drapes his shoulders with the head resting on the right shoulder, a black cape and hood, flowing from the pelt, The hood again made of supple black leather to keep the rain off his pate (after all Ulric requires his warriors to be brave, and forthright, not to bath in the rain).<br />
When most people meet Ivar for the first time they are usually surprised. Here is a man who obviously is a Norlander, and a following we Ulric to boot, so for sure he's going to be crude and boorish and a bit barbaric. Then Ivar greets them, and they find themselves in the presence of no boorish barbarian, but a well spoken educated man, that speaks many languages. Once the shock of this they find themselves in the presence of a true devotee of Ulric, honest, forthright, truthful in all things he approaches, and indeed even Jovial when around his companions and other warriors. Drinking ale and mead with them, laughing and boasting, telling tale of adventures past. This is part of the charm of Ivar that makes him such a good warrior priest to the god of battle, because these qualities, open, forthright, easy to drink and feast with, even for the lowest of warriors, these are the qualities that raises the spirits and keeps the morale of men high. <br />
This is but one shock people receive when meeting Ivar, the second shock comes later, when they first witness him in battle. Here in battle, all the refinement of his education vanishes, and he embodies the true savage spirit of Ulric, reveling in battle. The clash of arms and shields music to his ears as he wades into his enemies, just on the cusp of a berserker frenzy as his axe raises and falls, felling men like cords of wood as his booming voice chants out his litanies to Ulric, dedicating his battle to him and honoring him with each foe felled.<br />
<br />
<center> Ulric give me the fangs of the wolf. </center><br />
<center> Ulric give me the claws of the wolf. </center><br />
<center> Ulric give me the coat of the wolf. </center><br />
<center> And I will show your enemies the mercy of the wolf. </center><br />
<br />
<center> ''' ''Ivar Bjornson'' '''</center><br />
<center> ''' ''Chanting litanies to Ulric in battle'' '''</center><br />
<br />
[[File:Shield.jpg|center|250px]]</div>Bjornhttps://pathfinder.peeblesclan.com/index.php?title=Ivar_Bjornson&diff=1007Ivar Bjornson2025-09-27T02:35:24Z<p>Bjorn: </p>
<hr />
<div>[[File:Ivar5.jpg|center|center|center|750px]]<br />
<br />
'''Appearance:'''<br />
Ivar Bjornson, Warrior priest of Ulric is an imposing site, standing 6'4" and weighing 17 stones. This makes him larger than the vast majority of the Empires citizens, yet still slightly smaller that the Norscans he is so accustomed to fighting. Like most Ulric followers Ivar has long Hair and a beard. In his case they are Platinum Blonde almost white. Ivar keeps his Head shaved on the sides and back, ringed in tattoos of Ulric runes and symbols, as well as down the left side of his face over his eye. The long hair from the top of his head pulled back in a long thick braid hanging to mid back. His armor is a fine well kept plate breastplate and pauldrons, wolf fangs ringing the waist of the breast plate. Loops over this a thick chain, running diagonal from his right shoulder to left waist, from which hangs a copy of one of Ulrics most sacred books, The Ulric Creed. His legs are covered by high quality supple black leather robes lined on the inside with chainmail armor that hangs to his ankles, split to the waist in the front for movement. Over his plate pauldrons, a luxurious well kept grey wolf pelt drapes his shoulders with the head resting on the right shoulder, a black cape and hood, flowing from the pelt, The hood again made of supple black leather to keep the rain off his pate (after all Ulric requires his warriors to be brave, and forthright, not to bath in the rain).<br />
<br />
'''Background:'''<br />
Kattagat, a sea village on the Sea of Claws in the Empire of man's Norldland province. A Thriving place, with good fishing in the fjord, and rare fertile farm land inland. It is these exact qualities that draw the attention of the forces of destruction to it. Norscans from across the sea, and Beastmen and Goblins from the Forests further inland. As such Kattagat has seen its fair share of raids, from both the land and the sea. It is a testament to the hardiness of these Nordlanders that call this place home that they are not only able to survive in this hostile environment, but actually still thrive in it. If you ask any of them, it is due to the villages devotion to Ulric, the god of Winter and War.<br />
It is in this village 27 years ago under a blood moon on the winter solstice that Ivar was born, the son of Bjorn a respected warrior and seamen of the village. Bjorn both respected his god, and knew the dangers of living near the sea of claw, so took to training Ivar in both the theology of Ulric, as well as the martial practices used to honor their god and their very survival. But unlike the savage Norscans across the sea, the Nordlanders also understood the value of knowledge and learning. Thus Bjorn also ensure his son had the education to not only read his lord Ulric's scriptures and tenants, but to write his opinions and thoughts down as well as speak the languages of the people that boarder Nordland.<br />
For 15 winters he taught his son, imparting all the knowledge he could into him, until finally he deemed him worthy of the highest of honors in his mind. Thus it was that he took his savings and bought Ivar passage to Middenheim to study at the high temple of Ulric, to learn the deeper secrets of their god so he could dedicate himself to serving Ulric in repayment for all the aid Ulric provides to the Village they called home, helping to preserve it from their marauding enemies bent on blood and destruction. Now 12 years later Ivar Bjornson is a fully fledged Warrior Priest of Ulric, taking his axe and shield where Ulric deems him needed, never questioning his lords wisdom. Indeed these trips sometimes even take him back to Kattagat to help fend off one raid or another. On these occasions, with the homecoming of his son, and the chance to fight at his side once again before he becomes to old to truly make a difference, Bjorn throws a feast, and that means good food, a warm hearth, all the ale you can drink, and many toasts to Ulric.<br />
<br />
<center> Anoint yourself with the blood of Ulric that you shall not fear to bleed. </center><br />
<center> Pledge yourself to Ulric's work that you shall not fear to suffer. </center><br />
<center> Give yourself to Ulric that you shall not fear to die. </center><br />
<center> For if you find yourself alone, standing in fields of snow with the cool wind on your face, </center><br />
<center> Do not be troubled for you are in Ulrics' hunting grounds! </center><br />
<center> And you are already dead! </center><br />
<br />
<center> ''' ''Ivar Bjornson to the Imperial troops'' '''</center><br />
<center> ''' ''At the Battle of Drakwald'' '''</center><br />
<br />
[[File:Wolf_Axe.jpg|center|350px]]<br />
<br />
<br />
'''Personality:'''<br />
When most people meet Ivar for the first time they are usually surprised. Here is a man who obviously is a Norlander, and a following we Ulric to boot, so for sure he's going to be crude and boorish and a bit barbaric. Then Ivar greets them, and they find themselves in the presence of no boorish barbarian, but a well spoken educated man, that speaks many languages. Once the shock of this they find themselves in the presence of a true devotee of Ulric, honest, forthright, truthful in all things he approaches, and indeed even Jovial when around his companions and other warriors. Drinking ale and mead with them, laughing and boasting, telling tale of adventures past. This is part of the charm of Ivar that makes him such a good warrior priest to the god of battle, because these qualities, open, forthright, easy to drink and feast with, even for the lowest of warriors, these are the qualities that raises the spirits and keeps the morale of men high. <br />
This is but one shock people receive when meeting Ivar, the second shock comes later, when they first witness him in battle. Here in battle, all the refinement of his education vanishes, and he embodies the true savage spirit of Ulric, reveling in battle. The clash of arms and shields music to his ears as he wades into his enemies, just on the cusp of a berserker frenzy as his axe raises and falls, felling men like cords of wood as his booming voice chants out his litanies to Ulric, dedicating his battle to him and honoring him with each foe felled.<br />
<br />
<center> Ulric give me the fangs of the wolf. </center><br />
<center> Ulric give me the claws of the wolf. </center><br />
<center> Ulric give me the coat of the wolf. </center><br />
<center> And I will show your enemies the mercy of the wolf. </center><br />
<br />
<center> ''' ''Ivar Bjornson'' '''</center><br />
<center> ''' ''Chanting litanies to Ulric in battle'' '''</center><br />
<br />
[[File:Shield.jpg|center|250px]]</div>Bjornhttps://pathfinder.peeblesclan.com/index.php?title=Ivar_Bjornson&diff=1006Ivar Bjornson2025-09-27T02:33:11Z<p>Bjorn: </p>
<hr />
<div>[[File:Ivar5.jpg|center|center|center|750px]]<br />
<br />
'''Appearance:'''<br />
Ivar Bjornson, Warrior priest of Ulric is an imposing site, standing 6'4" and weighing 17 stones. This makes him larger than the vast majority of the Empires citizens, yet still slightly smaller that the Norscans he is so accustomed to fighting. Like most Ulric followers Ivar has long Hair and a beard. In his case they are Platinum Blonde almost white. Ivar keeps his Head shaved on the sides and back, ringed in tattoos of Ulric runes and symbols, as well as down the left side of his face over his eye. The long hair from the top of his head pulled back in a long thick braid hanging to mid back. His armor is a fine well kept plate breastplate and pauldrons, wolf fangs ringing the waist of the breast plate. Loops over this a thick chain, running diagonal from his right shoulder to left waist, from which hangs a copy of one of Ulrics most sacred books, The Ulric Creed. His legs are covered by high quality supple black leather robes lined on the inside with chainmail armor that hangs to his ankles, split to the waist in the front for movement. Over his plate pauldrons, a luxurious well kept grey wolf pelt drapes his shoulders with the head resting on the right shoulder, a black cape and hood, flowing from the pelt, The hood again made of supple black leather to keep the rain off his pate (after all Ulric requires his warriors to be brave, and forthright, not to bath in the rain).<br />
<br />
'''Background:'''<br />
Kattagat, a sea village on the Sea of Claws in the Empire of man's Norldland province. A Thriving place, with good fishing in the fjord, and rare fertile farm land inland. It is these exact qualities that draw the attention of the forces of destruction to it. Norscans from across the sea, and Beastmen and Goblins from the Forests further inland. As such Kattagat has seen its fair share of raids, from both the land and the sea. It is a testament to the hardiness of these Nordlanders that call this place home that they are not only able to survive in this hostile environment, but actually still thrive in it. If you ask any of them, it is due to the villages devotion to Ulric, the god of Winter and War.<br />
It is in this village 27 years ago under a blood moon on the winter solstice that Ivar was born, the son of Bjorn a respected warrior and seamen of the village. Bjorn both respected his god, and knew the dangers of living near the sea of claw, so took to training Ivar in both the theology of Ulric, as well as the martial practices used to honor their god and their very survival. But unlike the savage Norscans across the sea, the Nordlanders also understood the value of knowledge and learning. Thus Bjorn also ensure his son had the education to not only read his lord Ulric's scriptures and tenants, but to write his opinions and thoughts down as well as speak the languages of the people that boarder Nordland.<br />
For 15 winters he taught his son, imparting all the knowledge he could into him, until finally he deemed him worthy of the highest of honors in his mind. Thus it was that he took his savings and bought Ivar passage to Middenheim to study at the high temple of Ulric, to learn the deeper secrets of their god so he could dedicate himself to serving Ulric in repayment for all the aid Ulric provides to the Village they called home, helping to preserve it from their marauding enemies bent on blood and destruction. Now 12 years later Ivar Bjornson is a fully fledged Warrior Priest of Ulric, taking his axe and shield where Ulric deems him needed, never questioning his lords wisdom. Indeed these trips sometimes even take him back to Kattagat to help fend off one raid or another. On these occasions, with the homecoming of his son, and the chance to fight at his side once again before he becomes to old to truly make a difference, Bjorn throws a feast, and that means good food, a warm hearth, all the ale you can drink, and many toasts to Ulric.<br />
<br />
<center> Anoint yourself with the blood of Ulric that you shall not fear to bleed. </center><br />
<center> Pledge yourself to Ulric's work that you shall not fear to suffer. </center><br />
<center> Give yourself to Ulric that you shall not fear to die. </center><br />
<center> For if you find yourself alone, standing in fields of snow with the cool wind on your face, </center><br />
<center> Do not be troubled for you are in Ulrics' hunting grounds! </center><br />
<center> And you are already dead! </center><br />
<br />
<center> ''' ''Ivar Bjornson to the Imperial troops'' '''</center><br />
<center> ''' ''At the Battle of Drakwald'' '''</center><br />
<br />
[[File:Wolf_Axe.jpg|center|350px]]<br />
<br />
<br />
'''Personality:'''<br />
When most people meet Ivar for the first time they are usually surprised. Here is a man who obviously is a Norlander, and a following we Ulric to boot, so for sure he's going to be crude and boorish and a bit barbaric. Then Ivar greets them, and they find themselves in the presence of no boorish barbarian, but a well spoken educated man, that speaks many languages. Once the shock of this they find themselves in the presence of a true devotee of Ulric, honest, forthright, truthful in all things he approaches, and indeed even Jovial when around his companions and other warriors. Drinking ale and mead with them, laughing and boasting, telling tale of adventures past. This is part of the charm of Ivar that makes him such a good warrior priest to the god of battle, because these qualities, open, forthright, easy to drink and feast with, even for the lowest of warriors, these are the qualities that raises the spirits and keeps the morale of men high. <br />
This is but one shock people receive when meeting Ivar, the second shock comes later, when they first witness him in battle. Here in battle, all the refinement of his education vanishes, and he embodies the true savage spirit of Ulric, reveling in battle. The clash of arms and shields music to his ears as he wades into his enemies, just on the cusp of a berserker frenzy as his axe raises and falls, felling men like cords of wood as he booming voice chants out his litanies to Ulric, dedicating his battle to him and honoring him with each foe felled.<br />
<br />
<center> Ulric give me the fangs of the wolf. </center><br />
<center> Ulric give me the claws of the wolf. </center><br />
<center> Ulric give me the coat of the wolf. </center><br />
<center> And I will show your enemies the mercy of the wolf. </center><br />
<br />
<center> ''' ''Ivar Bjornson'' '''</center><br />
<center> ''' ''Chanting litanies to Ulric in battle'' '''</center><br />
<br />
[[File:Shield.jpg|center|250px]]</div>Bjornhttps://pathfinder.peeblesclan.com/index.php?title=Ivar_Bjornson&diff=1005Ivar Bjornson2025-09-25T19:07:06Z<p>Bjorn: </p>
<hr />
<div>[[File:Ivar5.jpg|center|center|center|750px]]<br />
<br />
'''Appearance:'''<br />
Ivar Bjornson, Warrior priest of Ulric is an imposing site, standing 6'4" and weighing 17 stones. This makes him larger than the vast majority of the Empires citizens, yet still slightly smaller that the Norscans he is so accustomed to fighting. Like most Ulric followers Ivar has long Hair and a beard. In his case they are Platinum Blonde almost white. Ulric keeps his Head shaved on the sides and back, ringed in tattoos of Ulric runes and symbols, as well as down the left side of his face over his eye. The long hair from the top of his head pulled back in a long thick braid hanging to mid back. His armor is a fine well kept plate breastplate and pauldrons, wolf fangs ringing the waist of the breast plate. Loops over this a thick chain, running diagonal from his right shoulder to left waist, from which hangs a copy of one of Ulrics most sacred books, The Ulric Creed. His legs are covered by high quality supple black leather robes lined on the inside with chainmail armor that hangs to his ankles, split to the waist in the front for movement. Over his plate pauldrons, a luxurious well kept grey wolf pelt drapes his shoulders with the head resting on the right shoulder, a black cape and hood, flowing from the pelt, The hood again made of supple black leather to keep the rain off his pate (after all Ulric requires his warriors to be brave, and forthright, not to bath in the rain).<br />
<br />
'''Background:'''<br />
Kattagat, a sea village on the Sea of Claws in the Empire of man's Norldland province. A Thriving place, with good fishing in the fjord, and rare fertile farm land inland. It is these exact qualities that draw the attention of the forces of destruction to it. Norscans from across the sea, and Beastmen and Goblins from the Forests further inland. As such Kattagat has seen its fair share of raids, from both the land and the sea. It is a testament to the hardiness of these Nordlanders that call this place home that they are not only able to survive in this hostile environment, but actually still thrive in it. If you ask any of them, it is due to the villages devotion to Ulric, the god of Winter and War.<br />
It is in this village 27 years ago under a blood moon on the winter solstice that Ivar was born, the son of Bjorn a respected warrior and seamen of the village. Bjorn both respected his god, and knew the dangers of living near the sea of claw, so took to training Ivar in both the theology of Ulric, as well as the martial practices used to honor their god and their very survival. But unlike the savage Norscans across the sea, the Nordlanders also understood the value of knowledge and learning. Thus Bjorn also ensure his son had the education to not only read his lord Ulric's scriptures and tenants, but to write his opinions and thoughts down as well as speak the languages of the people that boarder Nordland.<br />
For 15 winters he taught his son, imparting all the knowledge he could into him, until finally he deemed him worthy of the highest of honors in his mind. Thus it was that he took his savings and bought Ivar passage to Middenheim to study at the high temple of Ulric, to learn the deeper secrets of their god so he could dedicate himself to serving Ulric in repayment for all the aid Ulric provides to the Village they called home, helping to preserve it from their marauding enemies bent on blood and destruction. Now 12 years later Ivar Bjornson is a fully fledged Warrior Priest of Ulric, taking his axe and shield where Ulric deems him needed, never questioning his lords wisdom. Indeed these trips sometimes even take him back to Kattagat to help fend off one raid or another. On these occasions, with the homecoming of his son, and the chance to fight at his side once again before he becomes to old to truly make a difference, Bjorn throws a feast, and that means good food, a warm hearth, all the ale you can drink, and many toasts to Ulric.<br />
<br />
<center> Anoint yourself with the blood of Ulric that you shall not fear to bleed. </center><br />
<center> Pledge yourself to Ulric's work that you shall not fear to suffer. </center><br />
<center> Give yourself to Ulric that you shall not fear to die. </center><br />
<center> For if you find yourself alone, standing in fields of snow with the cool wind on your face, </center><br />
<center> Do not be troubled for you are in Ulrics' hunting grounds! </center><br />
<center> And you are already dead! </center><br />
<br />
<center> ''' ''Ivar Bjornson to the Imperial troops'' '''</center><br />
<center> ''' ''At the Battle of Drakwald'' '''</center><br />
<br />
[[File:Wolf_Axe.jpg|center|350px]]<br />
<br />
<br />
'''Personality:'''<br />
When most people meet Ivar for the first time they are usually surprised. Here is a man who obviously is a Norlander, and a following we Ulric to boot, so for sure he's going to be crude and boorish and a bit barbaric. Then Ivar greets them, and they find themselves in the presence of no boorish barbarian, but a well spoken educated man, that speaks many languages. Once the shock of this they find themselves in the presence of a true devotee of Ulric, honest, forthright, truthful in all things he approaches, and indeed even Jovial when around his companions and other warriors. Drinking ale and mead with them, laughing and boasting, telling tale of adventures past. This is part of the charm of Ivar that makes him such a good warrior priest to the god of battle, because these qualities, open, forthright, easy to drink and feast with, even for the lowest of warriors, these are the qualities that raises the spirits and keeps the morale of men high. <br />
This is but one shock people receive when meeting Ivar, the second shock comes later, when they first witness him in battle. Here in battle, all the refinement of his education vanishes, and he embodies the true savage spirit of Ulric, reveling in battle. The clash of arms and shields music to his ears as he wades into his enemies, just on the cusp of a berserker frenzy as his axe raises and falls, felling men like cords of wood as he booming voice chants out his litanies to Ulric, dedicating his battle to him and honoring him with each foe felled.<br />
<br />
<center> Ulric give me the fangs of the wolf. </center><br />
<center> Ulric give me the claws of the wolf. </center><br />
<center> Ulric give me the coat of the wolf. </center><br />
<center> And I will show your enemies the mercy of the wolf. </center><br />
<br />
<center> ''' ''Ivar Bjornson'' '''</center><br />
<center> ''' ''Chanting litanies to Ulric in battle'' '''</center><br />
<br />
[[File:Shield.jpg|center|250px]]</div>Bjornhttps://pathfinder.peeblesclan.com/index.php?title=Ivar_Bjornson&diff=1004Ivar Bjornson2025-09-25T18:22:48Z<p>Bjorn: </p>
<hr />
<div>[[File:Ivar5.jpg|center|center|center|750px]]<br />
<br />
'''Appearance:'''<br />
Ivar Bjornson, Warrior priest of Ulric is an imposing site, standing 6'4" and weighing 17 stones. This makes him larger than the vast majority of the Empires citizens, yet still slightly smaller that the Norscans he is so accustomed to fighting. Like most Ulric followers Ivar has long Hair and a beard. In his case they are Platinum Blonde almost white. Ulric keeps his Head shaved on the sides and back, ringed in tattoos of Ulric runes and symbols, as well as down the left side of his face over his eye. The long hair from the top of his head pulled back in a long thick braid hanging to mid back. His armor is a fine well kept plate breastplate and pauldrons, wolf fangs ringing the waist of the breast plate. Loops over this a thick chain, running diagonal from his right shoulder to left waist, from which hangs a copy of one of Ulrics most sacred books, The Ulric Creed. His legs are covered by high quality supple black leather robes lined on the inside with chainmail armor that hangs to his ankles, split to the waist in the front for movement. Over his plate pauldrons, a luxurious well kept grey wolf pelt drapes his shoulders with the head resting on the right shoulder, a black cape and hood, flowing from the pelt, The hood again made of supple black leather to keep the rain off his pate (after all Ulric requires his warriors to be brave, and forthright, not to bath in the rain).<br />
<br />
'''Background:'''<br />
Kattagat, a sea village on the Sea of Claws in the Empire of man's Norldland province. A Thriving place, with good fishing in the fjord, and rare fertile farm land inland. It is these exact qualities that draw the attention of the forces of destruction to it. Norscans from across the sea, and Beastmen and Goblins from the Forests further inland. As such Kattagat has seen its fair share of raids, from both the land and the sea. It is a testament to the hardiness of these Nordlanders that call this place home that they are not only able to survive in this hostile environment, but actually still thrive in it. If you ask any of them, it is due to the villages devotion to Ulric, the god of Winter and War.<br />
It is in this village 27 years ago under a blood moon on the winter solstice that Ivar was born, the son of Bjorn a respected warrior and seamen of the village. Bjorn both respected his god, and knew the dangers of living near the sea of claw, so took to training Ivar in both the theology of Ulric, as well as the martial practices used to honor their god and their very survival. But unlike the savage Norscans across the sea, the Nordlanders also understood the value of knowledge and learning. Thus Bjorn also ensure his son had the education to not only read his lord Ulric's scriptures and tenants, but to write his opinions and thoughts down as well as speak the languages of the people that boarder Nordland.<br />
For 15 winters he taught his son, imparting all the knowledge he could into him, until finally he deemed him worthy of the highest of honors in his mind. Thus it was that he took his savings and bought Ivar passage to Middenheim to study at the high temple of Ulric, to learn the deeper secrets of their god so he could dedicate himself to serving Ulric in repayment for all the aid Ulric provides to the Village they called home, helping to preserve it from their marauding enemies bent on blood and destruction. Now 12 years later Ivar Bjornson is a fully fledged Warrior Priest of Ulric, taking his axe and shield where Ulric deems him needed, never questioning his lords wisdom. Indeed these trips sometimes even take him back to Kattagat to help fend off one raid or another. On these occasions, with the homecoming of his son, and the chance to fight at his side once again before he becomes to old to truly make a difference, Bjorn throws a feast, and that means good food, a warm hearth, all the ale you can drink, and many toasts to Ulric.<br />
<br />
<center> Anoint yourself with the blood of Ulric that you shall not fear to bleed. </center><br />
<center> Pledge yourself to Ulric's work that you shall not fear to suffer. </center><br />
<center> Give yourself to Ulric that you shall not fear to die. </center><br />
<center> For if you find yourself alone, standing in fields of snow with the cool wind on your face, </center><br />
<center> Do not be troubled for you are in Ulrics' hunting grounds! </center><br />
<center> And you are already dead! </center><br />
<br />
<center> ''' ''Ivar Bjornson to the Imperial troops'' '''</center><br />
<center> ''' ''At the Battle of Drakwald'' '''</center><br />
<br />
[[File:Wolf_Axe.jpg|center|350px]]<br />
<br />
<br />
'''Personality:'''<br />
When most people meet Ivar for the first time they are usually surprised. Here is a man who obviously is a Norlander, and a following we Ulric to boot, so for sure he's going to be crude and boorish and a bit barbaric. Then Ivar greets them, and they find themselves in the presence of no boorish barbarian, but a well spoken educated man, that speaks many languages. Once the shock of this they find themselves in the presence of a true devotee of Ulric, honest, forthright, truthful in all things he approaches, and indeed even Jovial when around his companions and other warriors. Drinking ale and mead with them, laughing and boasting, telling tale of adventures past. This is part of the charm of Ivar that makes him such a good warrior priest to the god of battle, because these qualities, open, forthright, easy to drink and feast with, even for the lowest of warriors, these are the qualities that raises the spirits and keeps the morale of men high. <br />
This is but one shock people receive when meeting Ivar, the second shock comes later, when they first witness him in battle. Here in battle, all the refinement of his education vanishes, and he embodies the true savage spirit of Ulric, reveling in battle. The clash of arms and shields music to his ears as he wades into his enemies, just on the cusp of a berserker frenzy as his axe raises and falls, felling men like cords of wood as he booming voice chants out his litanies to Ulric, dedicating his battle to him and honoring him with each foe felled.<br />
<br />
<center> Ulric give me the fangs of the wolf. </center><br />
<center> Ulric give me the claws of the wolf. </center><br />
<center> Ulric give me the coat of the wolf. </center><br />
<center> And I will show your enemies the mercy of the olf. </center><br />
<br />
<center> ''' ''Ivar Bjornson'' '''</center><br />
<center> ''' ''Chanting litanies to Ulric in battle'' '''</center><br />
<br />
[[File:Shield.jpg|center|250px]]</div>Bjornhttps://pathfinder.peeblesclan.com/index.php?title=File:Shield.jpg&diff=1003File:Shield.jpg2025-09-25T18:21:41Z<p>Bjorn: </p>
<hr />
<div></div>Bjornhttps://pathfinder.peeblesclan.com/index.php?title=Ivar_Bjornson&diff=1002Ivar Bjornson2025-09-25T17:55:14Z<p>Bjorn: </p>
<hr />
<div>[[File:Ivar5.jpg|center|center|center|750px]]<br />
<br />
'''Appearance:'''<br />
Ivar Bjornson, Warrior priest of Ulric is an imposing site, standing 6'4" and weighing 17 stones. This makes him larger than the vast majority of the Empires citizens, yet still slightly smaller that the Norscans he is so accustomed to fighting. Like most Ulric followers Ivar has long Hair and a beard. In his case they are Platinum Blonde almost white. Ulric keeps his Head shaved on the sides and back, ringed in tattoos of Ulric runes and symbols, as well as down the left side of his face over his eye. The long hair from the top of his head pulled back in a long thick braid hanging to mid back. His armor is a fine well kept plate breastplate and pauldrons, wolf fangs ringing the waist of the breast plate. Loops over this a thick chain, running diagonal from his right shoulder to left waist, from which hangs a copy of one of Ulrics most sacred books, The Ulric Creed. His legs are covered by high quality supple black leather robes lined on the inside with chainmail armor that hangs to his ankles, split to the waist in the front for movement. Over his plate pauldrons, a luxurious well kept grey wolf pelt drapes his shoulders with the head resting on the right shoulder, a black cape and hood, flowing from the pelt, The hood again made of supple black leather to keep the rain off his pate (after all Ulric requires his warriors to be brave, and forthright, not to bath in the rain).<br />
<br />
'''Background:'''<br />
Kattagat, a sea village on the Sea of Claws in the Empire of man's Norldland province. A Thriving place, with good fishing in the fjord, and rare fertile farm land inland. It is these exact qualities that draw the attention of the forces of destruction to it. Norscans from across the sea, and Beastmen and Goblins from the Forests further inland. As such Kattagat has seen its fair share of raids, from both the land and the sea. It is a testament to the hardiness of these Nordlanders that call this place home that they are not only able to survive in this hostile environment, but actually still thrive in it. If you ask any of them, it is due to the villages devotion to Ulric, the god of Winter and War.<br />
It is in this village 27 years ago under a blood moon on the winter solstice that Ivar was born, the son of Bjorn a respected warrior and seamen of the village. Bjorn both respected his god, and knew the dangers of living near the sea of claw, so took to training Ivar in both the theology of Ulric, as well as the martial practices used to honor their god and their very survival. But unlike the savage Norscans across the sea, the Nordlanders also understood the value of knowledge and learning. Thus Bjorn also ensure his son had the education to not only read his lord Ulric's scriptures and tenants, but to write his opinions and thoughts down as well as speak the languages of the people that boarder Nordland.<br />
For 15 winters he taught his son, imparting all the knowledge he could into him, until finally he deemed him worthy of the highest of honors in his mind. Thus it was that he took his savings and bought Ivar passage to Middenheim to study at the high temple of Ulric, to learn the deeper secrets of their god so he could dedicate himself to serving Ulric in repayment for all the aid Ulric provides to the Village they called home, helping to preserve it from their marauding enemies bent on blood and destruction. Now 12 years later Ivar Bjornson is a fully fledged Warrior Priest of Ulric, taking his axe and shield where Ulric deems him needed, never questioning his lords wisdom. Indeed these trips sometimes even take him back to Kattagat to help fend off one raid or another. On these occasions, with the homecoming of his son, and the chance to fight at his side once again before he becomes to old to truly make a difference, Bjorn throws a feast, and that means good food, a warm hearth, all the ale you can drink, and many toasts to Ulric.<br />
<br />
<center> Anoint yourself with the blood of Ulric that you shall not fear to bleed. </center><br />
<center> Pledge yourself to Ulric's work that you shall not fear to suffer. </center><br />
<center> Give yourself to Ulric that you shall not fear to die. </center><br />
<center> For if you find yourself alone, standing in fields of snow with the cool wind on your face, </center><br />
<center> Do not be troubled for you are in Ulrics' hunting grounds! </center><br />
<center> And you are already dead! </center><br />
<br />
<center> ''' ''Ivar Bjornson to the Imperial troops'' '''</center><br />
<center> ''' ''At the Battle of Drakwald'' '''</center><br />
<br />
[[File:Wolf_Axe.jpg|center|350px]]<br />
<br />
<br />
'''Personality:'''<br />
When most people meet Ivar for the first time they are usually surprised. Here is a man who obviously is a Norlander, and a following we Ulric to boot, so for sure he's going to be crude and boorish and a bit barbaric. Then Ivar greets them, and they find themselves in the presence of no boorish barbarian, but a well spoken educated man, that speaks many languages. Once the shock of this they find themselves in the presence of a true devotee of Ulric, honest, forthright, truthful in all things he approaches, and indeed even Jovial when around his companions and other warriors. Drinking ale and mead with them, laughing and boasting, telling tale of adventures past. This is part of the charm of Ivar that makes him such a good warrior priest to the god of battle, because these qualities, open, forthright, easy to drink and feast with, even for the lowest of warriors, these are the qualities that raises the spirits and keeps the morale of men high. <br />
This is but one shock people receive when meeting Ivar, the second shock comes later, when they first witness him in battle. Here in battle, all the refinement of his education vanishes, and he embodies the true savage spirit of Ulric, reveling in battle. The clash of arms and shields music to his ears as he wades into his enemies, just on the cusp of a berserker frenzy as his axe raises and falls, felling men like cords of wood as he booming voice chants out his litanies to Ulric, dedicating his battle to him and honoring him with each foe felled.<br />
<br />
<center> Ulric give me the fangs of the wolf. </center><br />
<center> Ulric give me the claws of the wolf. </center><br />
<center> Ulric give me the coat of the wolf. </center><br />
<center> And I will show your enemies the mercy of the olf. </center><br />
<br />
<center> ''' ''Ivar Bjornson'' '''</center><br />
<center> ''' ''Chanting litanies to Ulric in battle'' '''</center></div>Bjornhttps://pathfinder.peeblesclan.com/index.php?title=Ivar_Bjornson&diff=1001Ivar Bjornson2025-09-25T17:51:21Z<p>Bjorn: </p>
<hr />
<div>[[File:Ivar5.jpg|center|center|center|750px]]<br />
<br />
'''Appearance:'''<br />
Ivar Bjornson, Warrior priest of Ulric is an imposing site, standing 6'4" and weighing 17 stones. This makes him larger than the vast majority of the Empires citizens, yet still slightly smaller that the Norscans he is so accustomed to fighting. Like most Ulric followers Ivar has long Hair and a beard. In his case they are Platinum Blonde almost white. Ulric keeps his Head shaved on the sides and back, ringed in tattoos of Ulric runes and symbols, as well as down the left side of his face over his eye. The long hair from the top of his head pulled back in a long thick braid hanging to mid back. His armor is a fine well kept plate breastplate and pauldrons, wolf fangs ringing the waist of the breast plate. Loops over this a thick chain, running diagonal from his right shoulder to left waist, from which hangs a copy of one of Ulrics most sacred books, The Ulric Creed. His legs are covered by high quality supple black leather robes lined on the inside with chainmail armor that hangs to his ankles, split to the waist in the front for movement. Over his plate pauldrons, a luxurious well kept grey wolf pelt drapes his shoulders with the head resting on the right shoulder, a black cape and hood, flowing from the pelt, The hood again made of supple black leather to keep the rain off his pate (after all Ulric requires his warriors to be brave, and forthright, not to bath in the rain).<br />
<br />
'''Background:'''<br />
Kattagat, a sea village on the Sea of Claws in the Empire of man's Norldland province. A Thriving place, with good fishing in the fjord, and rare fertile farm land inland. It is these exact qualities that draw the attention of the forces of destruction to it. Norscans from across the sea, and Beastmen and Goblins from the Forests further inland. As such Kattagat has seen its fair share of raids, from both the land and the sea. It is a testament to the hardiness of these Nordlanders that call this place home that they are not only able to survive in this hostile environment, but actually still thrive in it. If you ask any of them, it is due to the villages devotion to Ulric, the god of Winter and War.<br />
It is in this village 27 years ago under a blood moon on the winter solstice that Ivar was born, the son of Bjorn a respected warrior and seamen of the village. Bjorn both respected his god, and knew the dangers of living near the sea of claw, so took to training Ivar in both the theology of Ulric, as well as the martial practices used to honor their god and their very survival. But unlike the savage Norscans across the sea, the Nordlanders also understood the value of knowledge and learning. Thus Bjorn also ensure his son had the education to not only read his lord Ulric's scriptures and tenants, but to write his opinions and thoughts down as well as speak the languages of the people that boarder Nordland.<br />
For 15 winters he taught his son, imparting all the knowledge he could into him, until finally he deemed him worthy of the highest of honors in his mind. Thus it was that he took his savings and bought Ivar passage to Middenheim to study at the high temple of Ulric, to learn the deeper secrets of their god so he could dedicate himself to serving Ulric in repayment for all the aid Ulric provides to the Village they called home, helping to preserve it from their marauding enemies bent on blood and destruction. Now 12 years later Ivar Bjornson is a fully fledged Warrior Priest of Ulric, taking his axe and shield where Ulric deems him needed, never questioning his lords wisdom. Indeed these trips sometimes even take him back to Kattagat to help fend off one raid or another. On these occasions, with the homecoming of his son, and the chance to fight at his side once again before he becomes to old to truly make a difference, Bjorn throws a feast, and that means good food, a warm hearth, all the ale you can drink, and many toasts to Ulric.<br />
<br />
<center> Anoint yourself with the blood of Ulric that you shall not fear to bleed. </center><br />
<center> Pledge yourself to Ulric's work that you shall not fear to suffer. </center><br />
<center> Give yourself to Ulric that you shall not fear to die. </center><br />
<center> For if you find yourself alone, standing in fields of snow with the cool wind on your face, </center><br />
<center> Do not be troubled for you are in Ulrics' hunting grounds! </center><br />
<center> And you are already dead! </center><br />
<br />
<center> ''' ''Ivar Bjornson to the Imperial troops'' '''</center><br />
<center> ''' ''At the Battle of Drakwald'' '''</center><br />
<br />
[[File:Wolf_Axe.jpg|center|350px]]<br />
<br />
<br />
'''Personality:'''<br />
When most people meet Ivar for the first time they are usually surprised. Here is a man who obviously is a Norlander, and a following we Ulric to boot, so for sure he's going to be crude and boorish and a bit barbaric. Then Ivar greets them, and they find themselves in the presence of no boorish barbarian, but a well spoken educated man, that speaks many languages. Once the shock of this they find themselves in the presence of a true devotee of Ulric, honest, forthright, truthful in all things he approaches, and indeed even Jovial when around his companions and other warriors. Drinking ale and mead with them, laughing and boasting, telling tale of adventures past. This is part of the charm of Ivar that makes him such a good warrior priest to the god of battle, because these qualities, open, forthright, easy to drink and feast with, even for the lowest of warriors, these are the qualities that raises the spirits and keeps the morale of men high. <br />
This is but one shock people receive when meeting Ivar, the second shock comes later, when they first witness him in battle. Here in battle, all the refinement of his education vanishes, and he embodies the true savage spirit of Ulric, reveling in battle. The clash of arms and shields music to his ears as he wades into his enemies, just on the cusp of a berserker frenzy as his axe raises and falls, felling men like cords of wood as he booming voice chants out his litanies to Ulric, dedicating his battle to him and honoring him with each foe felled.<br />
<br />
<center> Ulric give me the fangs of the wolf. </center><br />
<center> Ulric give me the claws of the wolf. </center><br />
<center> Ulric give me the coat of the wolf. </center><br />
<center> And I will show your enemies the mercy of the olf. </center><br />
<br />
<center> ''' ''Ivar Bjornson chanting litanies to Ulric in battle' '''</center></div>Bjornhttps://pathfinder.peeblesclan.com/index.php?title=Ivar_Bjornson&diff=1000Ivar Bjornson2025-09-25T17:46:50Z<p>Bjorn: </p>
<hr />
<div>[[File:Ivar5.jpg|center|center|center|750px]]<br />
<br />
'''Appearance:'''<br />
Ivar Bjornson, Warrior priest of Ulric is an imposing site, standing 6'4" and weighing 17 stones. This makes him larger than the vast majority of the Empires citizens, yet still slightly smaller that the Norscans he is so accustomed to fighting. Like most Ulric followers Ivar has long Hair and a beard. In his case they are Platinum Blonde almost white. Ulric keeps his Head shaved on the sides and back, ringed in tattoos of Ulric runes and symbols, as well as down the left side of his face over his eye. The long hair from the top of his head pulled back in a long thick braid hanging to mid back. His armor is a fine well kept plate breastplate and pauldrons, wolf fangs ringing the waist of the breast plate. Loops over this a thick chain, running diagonal from his right shoulder to left waist, from which hangs a copy of one of Ulrics most sacred books, The Ulric Creed. His legs are covered by high quality supple black leather robes lined on the inside with chainmail armor that hangs to his ankles, split to the waist in the front for movement. Over his plate pauldrons, a luxurious well kept grey wolf pelt drapes his shoulders with the head resting on the right shoulder, a black cape and hood, flowing from the pelt, The hood again made of supple black leather to keep the rain off his pate (after all Ulric requires his warriors to be brave, and forthright, not to bath in the rain).<br />
<br />
'''Background:'''<br />
Kattagat, a sea village on the Sea of Claws in the Empire of man's Norldland province. A Thriving place, with good fishing in the fjord, and rare fertile farm land inland. It is these exact qualities that draw the attention of the forces of destruction to it. Norscans from across the sea, and Beastmen and Goblins from the Forests further inland. As such Kattagat has seen its fair share of raids, from both the land and the sea. It is a testament to the hardiness of these Nordlanders that call this place home that they are not only able to survive in this hostile environment, but actually still thrive in it. If you ask any of them, it is due to the villages devotion to Ulric, the god of Winter and War.<br />
It is in this village 27 years ago under a blood moon on the winter solstice that Ivar was born, the son of Bjorn a respected warrior and seamen of the village. Bjorn both respected his god, and knew the dangers of living near the sea of claw, so took to training Ivar in both the theology of Ulric, as well as the martial practices used to honor their god and their very survival. But unlike the savage Norscans across the sea, the Nordlanders also understood the value of knowledge and learning. Thus Bjorn also ensure his son had the education to not only read his lord Ulric's scriptures and tenants, but to write his opinions and thoughts down as well as speak the languages of the people that boarder Nordland.<br />
For 15 winters he taught his son, imparting all the knowledge he could into him, until finally he deemed him worthy of the highest of honors in his mind. Thus it was that he took his savings and bought Ivar passage to Middenheim to study at the high temple of Ulric, to learn the deeper secrets of their god so he could dedicate himself to serving Ulric in repayment for all the aid Ulric provides to the Village they called home, helping to preserve it from their marauding enemies bent on blood and destruction. Now 12 years later Ivar Bjornson is a fully fledged Warrior Priest of Ulric, taking his axe and shield where Ulric deems him needed, never questioning his lords wisdom. Indeed these trips sometimes even take him back to Kattagat to help fend off one raid or another. On these occasions, with the homecoming of his son, and the chance to fight at his side once again before he becomes to old to truly make a difference, Bjorn throws a feast, and that means good food, a warm hearth, all the ale you can drink, and many toasts to Ulric.<br />
<br />
<br />
<center> Anoint yourself with the blood of Ulric that you shall not fear to bleed. </center><br />
<center> Pledge yourself to Ulric's work that you shall not fear to suffer. </center><br />
<center> Give yourself to Ulric that you shall not fear to die. </center><br />
<center> For if you find yourself alone, standing in fields of snow with the cool wind on your face, </center><br />
<center> Do not be troubled for you are in Ulrics' hunting grounds! </center><br />
<center> And you are already dead! </center><br />
<br />
<center> ''' ''Ivar Bjornson to the Imperial troops'' '''</center><br />
<center> ''' ''At the Battle of Drakwald'' '''</center><br />
<br />
[[File:Wolf_Axe.jpg|center|350px]]<br />
<br />
<br />
'''Personality:'''<br />
When most people meet Ivar for the first time they are usually surprised. Here is a man who obviously is a Norlander, and a following we Ulric to boot, so for sure he's going to be crude and boorish and a bit barbaric. Then Ivar greets them, and they find themselves in the presence of no boorish barbarian, but a well spoken educated man, that speaks many languages. Once the shock of this they find themselves in the presence of a true devotee of Ulric, honest, forthright, truthful in all things he approaches, and indeed even Jovial when around his companions and other warriors. Drinking ale and mead with them, laughing and boasting, telling tale of adventures past. This is part of the charm of Ivar that makes him such a good warrior priest to the god of battle, because these qualities, open, forthright, easy to drink and feast with, even for the lowest of warriors, these are the qualities that raises the spirits and keeps the morale of men high. <br />
This is but one shock people receive when meeting Ivar, the second shock comes later, when they first witness him in battle. Here in battle, all the refinement of his education vanishes, and he embodies the true savage spirit of Ulric, reveling in battle. The clash of arms and shields music to his ears as he wades into his enemies, just on the cusp of a berserker frenzy as his axe raises and falls, felling men like cords of wood as he booming voice chants out his litanies to Ulric, dedicating his battle to him and honoring him with each foe felled.</div>Bjornhttps://pathfinder.peeblesclan.com/index.php?title=Ivar_Bjornson&diff=999Ivar Bjornson2025-09-25T17:35:39Z<p>Bjorn: </p>
<hr />
<div>[[File:Ivar5.jpg|center|center|center|750px]]<br />
<br />
'''Appearance:'''<br />
Ivar Bjornson, Warrior priest of Ulric is an imposing site, standing 6'4" and weighing 17 stones. This makes him larger than the vast majority of the Empires citizens, yet still slightly smaller that the Norscans he is so accustomed to fighting. Like most Ulric followers Ivar has long Hair and a beard. In his case they are Platinum Blonde almost white. Ulric keeps his Head shaved on the sides and back, ringed in tattoos of Ulric runes and symbols, as well as down the left side of his face over his eye. The long hair from the top of his head pulled back in a long thick braid hanging to mid back. His armor is a fine well kept plate breastplate and pauldrons, wolf fangs ringing the waist of the breast plate. Loops over this a thick chain, running diagonal from his right shoulder to left waist, from which hangs a copy of one of Ulrics most sacred books, The Ulric Creed. His legs are covered by high quality supple black leather robes lined on the inside with chainmail armor that hangs to his ankles, split to the waist in the front for movement. Over his plate pauldrons, a luxurious well kept grey wolf pelt drapes his shoulders with the head resting on the right shoulder, a black cape and hood, flowing from the pelt, The hood again made of supple black leather to keep the rain off his pate (after all Ulric requires his warriors to be brave, and forthright, not to bath in the rain).<br />
<br />
'''Background:'''<br />
Kattagat, a sea village on the Sea of Claws in the Empire of man's Norldland province. A Thriving place, with good fishing in the fjord, and rare fertile farm land inland. It is these exact qualities that draw the attention of the forces of destruction to it. Norscans from across the sea, and Beastmen and Goblins from the Forests further inland. As such Kattagat has seen its fair share of raids, from both the land and the sea. It is a testament to the hardiness of these Nordlanders that call this place home that they are not only able to survive in this hostile environment, but actually still thrive in it. If you ask any of them, it is due to the villages devotion to Ulric, the god of Winter and War.<br />
It is in this village 27 years ago under a blood moon on the winter solstice that Ivar was born, the son of Bjorn a respected warrior and seamen of the village. Bjorn both respected his god, and knew the dangers of living near the sea of claw, so took to training Ivar in both the theology of Ulric, as well as the martial practices used to honor their god and their very survival. But unlike the savage Norscans across the sea, the Nordlanders also understood the value of knowledge and learning. Thus Bjorn also ensure his son had the education to not only read his lord Ulric's scriptures and tenants, but to write his opinions and thoughts down as well as speak the languages of the people that boarder Nordland.<br />
For 15 winters he taught his son, imparting all the knowledge he could into him, until finally he deemed him worthy of the highest of honors in his mind. Thus it was that he took his savings and bought Ivar passage to Middenheim to study at the high temple of Ulric, to learn the deeper secrets of their god so he could dedicate himself to serving Ulric in repayment for all the aid Ulric provides to the Village they called home, helping to preserve it from their marauding enemies bent on blood and destruction. Now 12 years later Ivar Bjornson is a fully fledged Warrior Priest of Ulric, taking his axe and shield where Ulric deems him needed, never questioning his lords wisdom. Indeed these trips sometimes even take him back to Kattagat to help fend off one raid or another. On these occasions, with the homecoming of his son, and the chance to fight at his side once again before he becomes to old to truly make a difference, Bjorn throws a feast, and that means good food, a warm hearth, all the ale you can drink, and many toasts to Ulric.<br />
<br />
<br />
<center> Anoint yourself with the blood of Ulric that you shall not fear to bleed. </center><br />
<center> Pledge yourself to Ulric's work that you shall not fear to suffer. </center><br />
<center> Give yourself to Ulric that you shall not fear to die. </center><br />
<center> For if you find yourself alone, standing in fields of snow with the cool wind on your face, </center><br />
<center> Do not be troubled for you are in Ulrics' hunting grounds! </center><br />
<center> And you are already dead! </center><br />
<br />
<center> ''' ''Ivar Bjornson to the Imperial troops'' '''</center><br />
<center> ''' ''At the Battle of Drakwald'' '''</center><br />
<br />
<br />
[[File:Wolf_Axe.jpg|center|350px]]<br />
<br />
<br />
'''Personality:'''<br />
When most people meet Ivar for the first time they are usually surprised. Here is a man who obviously is a Norlander, and a following we Ulric to boot, so for sure he's going to be crude and boorish and a bit barbaric. Then Ivar greets them, and they find themselves in the presence of no boorish barbarian, but a well spoken educated man, that speaks many languages. Once the shock of this they find themselves in the presence of a true devotee of Ulric, honest, forthright, truthful in all things he approaches, and indeed even Jovial when around his companions and other warriors. Drinking ale and mead with them, laughing and boasting, telling tale of adventures past. This is part of the charm of Ivar that makes him such a good warrior priest to the god of battle, because these qualities, open, forthright, easy to drink and feast with, even for the lowest of warriors, these are the qualities that raises the spirits and keeps the morale of men high. <br />
This is but one shock people receive when meeting Ivar, the second shock comes later, when they first witness him in battle. Here in battle, all the refinement of his education vanishes, and he embodies the true savage spirit of Ulric, reveling in battle. The clash of arms and shields music to his ears as he wades into his enemies, just on the cusp of a berserker frenzy as his axe raises and falls, felling men like cords of wood as he booming voice chants out his litanies to Ulric, dedicating his battle to him and honoring him with each foe felled.</div>Bjornhttps://pathfinder.peeblesclan.com/index.php?title=Ivar_Bjornson&diff=998Ivar Bjornson2025-09-25T17:31:12Z<p>Bjorn: </p>
<hr />
<div>[[File:Ivar5.jpg|center|center|center|750px]]<br />
<br />
'''Appearance:'''<br />
Ivar Bjornson, Warrior priest of Ulric is an imposing site, standing 6'4" and weighing 17 stones. This makes him larger than the vast majority of the Empires citizens, yet still slightly smaller that the Norscans he is so accustomed to fighting. Like most Ulric followers Ivar has long Hair and a beard. In his case they are Platinum Blonde almost white. Ulric keeps his Head shaved on the sides and back, ringed in tattoos of Ulric runes and symbols, as well as down the left side of his face over his eye. The long hair from the top of his head pulled back in a long thick braid hanging to mid back. His armor is a fine well kept plate breastplate and pauldrons, wolf fangs ringing the waist of the breast plate. Loops over this a thick chain, running diagonal from his right shoulder to left waist, from which hangs a copy of one of Ulrics most sacred books, The Ulric Creed. His legs are covered by high quality supple black leather robes lined on the inside with chainmail armor that hangs to his ankles, split to the waist in the front for movement. Over his plate pauldrons, a luxurious well kept grey wolf pelt drapes his shoulders with the head resting on the right shoulder, a black cape and hood, flowing from the pelt, The hood again made of supple black leather to keep the rain off his pate (after all Ulric requires his warriors to be brave, and forthright, not to bath in the rain).<br />
<br />
'''Background:'''<br />
Kattagat, a sea village on the Sea of Claws in the Empire of man's Norldland province. A Thriving place, with good fishing in the fjord, and rare fertile farm land inland. It is these exact qualities that draw the attention of the forces of destruction to it. Norscans from across the sea, and Beastmen and Goblins from the Forests further inland. As such Kattagat has seen its fair share of raids, from both the land and the sea. It is a testament to the hardiness of these Nordlanders that call this place home that they are not only able to survive in this hostile environment, but actually still thrive in it. If you ask any of them, it is due to the villages devotion to Ulric, the god of Winter and War.<br />
It is in this village 27 years ago under a blood moon on the winter solstice that Ivar was born, the son of Bjorn a respected warrior and seamen of the village. Bjorn both respected his god, and knew the dangers of living near the sea of claw, so took to training Ivar in both the theology of Ulric, as well as the martial practices used to honor their god and their very survival. But unlike the savage Norscans across the sea, the Nordlanders also understood the value of knowledge and learning. Thus Bjorn also ensure his son had the education to not only read his lord Ulric's scriptures and tenants, but to write his opinions and thoughts down as well as speak the languages of the people that boarder Nordland.<br />
For 15 winters he taught his son, imparting all the knowledge he could into him, until finally he deemed him worthy of the highest of honors in his mind. Thus it was that he took his savings and bought Ivar passage to Middenheim to study at the high temple of Ulric, to learn the deeper secrets of their god so he could dedicate himself to serving Ulric in repayment for all the aid Ulric provides to the Village they called home, helping to preserve it from their marauding enemies bent on blood and destruction. Now 12 years later Ivar Bjornson is a fully fledged Warrior Priest of Ulric, taking his axe and shield where Ulric deems him needed, never questioning his lords wisdom. Indeed these trips sometimes even take him back to Kattagat to help fend off one raid or another. On these occasions, with the homecoming of his son, and the chance to fight at his side once again before he becomes to old to truly make a difference, Bjorn throws a feast, and that means good food, a warm hearth, all the ale you can drink, and many toasts to Ulric.<br />
<br />
<br />
<center> Anoint yourself with the blood of Ulric that you shall not fear to bleed. </center><br />
<center> Pledge yourself to Ulric's work that you shall not fear to suffer. </center><br />
<center> Give yourself to Ulric that you shall not fear to die. </center><br />
<center> For if you find yourself alone, standing in fields of snow with the cool wind on your face, </center><br />
<center> Do not be troubled for you are in Ulrics' hunting grounds! </center><br />
<center> And you are already dead! </center><br />
<br />
<center> ''' ''Ivar Bjornson to the Imperial troops'' '''</center><br />
<center> ''' ''At the Battle of Drakwald'' '''</center><br />
<br />
<br />
[[File:Wolf_Axe.jpg|center|350px]]<br />
<br />
<br />
'''Personality:'''<br />
When most people meet Ivar for the first time they are usually surprised. Here is a man who obviously is a Norlander, and a following we Ulric to boot, so for sure he's going to be crude and boorish and a bit barbaric. Then Ivar greets them, and they find themselves in the presence of no boorish barbarian, but a well spoken educated man, that speaks many languages. Once the shock of this they find themselves in the presence of a true devotee of Ulric, honest, forthright, truthful in all things he approaches, and indeed even Jovial when around his companions and other warriors. Drinking ale and mead with them, laughing and boasting, telling tale of adventures past. This is part of the charm of Ivar that makes him such a good warrior priest to the god of battle, because these qualities, open, forthright, easy to drink and feast with, even for the lowest of warriors, these are the qualities that raises the spirits and keeps the morale of men high. <br />
This is but one shock people receive when meeting Ivar, the second shock comes later, when they first witness him in battle. Here in battle, all the refinement of his education vanishes, and he embodies the true savage spirit of Ulric, Reveling in battle. the clash of arms and shields music to his ears as he wades into his enemies, just on the cusp of a berserker frenzy as his axe raises and falls, felling men like cords of wood as he booming voice chants out his litanies to Ulric, dedicating his battle to him and honoring him with each foe felled.</div>Bjornhttps://pathfinder.peeblesclan.com/index.php?title=Ivar_Bjornson&diff=997Ivar Bjornson2025-09-25T02:34:23Z<p>Bjorn: </p>
<hr />
<div>[[File:Ivar5.jpg|center|center|center|750px]]<br />
<br />
'''Appearance:'''<br />
Ivar Bjornson, Warrior priest of Ulric is an imposing site, standing 6'4" and weighing 17 stones. This makes him larger than the vast majority of the Empires citizens, yet still slightly smaller that the Norscans he is so accustomed to fighting. Like most Ulric followers Ivar has long Hair and a beard. In his case they are Platinum Blonde almost white. Ulric keeps his Head shaved on the sides and back, ringed in tattoos of Ulric runes and symbols, as well as down the left side of his face over his eye. The long hair from the top of his head pulled back in a long thick braid hanging to mid back. His armor is a fine well kept plate breastplate and pauldrons, wolf fangs ringing the waist of the breast plate. Loops over this a thick chain, running diagonal from his right shoulder to left waist, from which hangs a copy of one of Ulrics most sacred books, The Ulric Creed. His legs are covered by high quality supple black leather robes lined on the inside with chainmail armor that hangs to his ankles, split to the waist in the front for movement. Over his plate pauldrons, a luxurious well kept grey wolf pelt drapes his shoulders with the head resting on the right shoulder, a black cape and hood, flowing from the pelt, The hood again made of supple black leather to keep the rain off his pate (after all Ulric requires his warriors to be brave, and forthright, not to bath in the rain).<br />
<br />
'''Background:'''<br />
Kattagat, a sea village on the Sea of Claws in the Empire of man's Norldland province. A Thriving place, with good fishing in the fjord, and rare fertile farm land inland. It is these exact qualities that draw the attention of the forces of destruction to it. Norscans from across the sea, and Beastmen and Goblins from the Forests further inland. As such Kattagat has seen its fair share of raids, from both the land and the sea. It is a testament to the hardiness of these Nordlanders that call this place home that they are not only able to survive in this hostile environment, but actually still thrive in it. If you ask any of them, it is due to the villages devotion to Ulric, the god of Winter and War.<br />
It is in this village 27 years ago under a blood moon on the winter solstice that Ivar was born, the son of Bjorn a respected warrior and seamen of the village. Bjorn both respected his god, and knew the dangers of living near the sea of claw, so took to training Ivar in both the theology of Ulric, as well as the martial practices used to honor their god and their very survival. But unlike the savage Norscans across the sea, the Nordlanders also understood the value of knowledge and learning. Thus Bjorn also ensure his son had the education to not only read his lord Ulric's scriptures and tenants, but to write his opinions and thoughts down as well as speak the languages of the people that boarder Nordland.<br />
For 15 winters he taught his son, imparting all the knowledge he could into him, until finally he deemed him worthy of the highest of honors in his mind. Thus it was that he took his savings and bought Ivar passage to Middenheim to study at the high temple of Ulric, to learn the deeper secrets of their god so he could dedicate himself to serving Ulric in repayment for all the aid Ulric provides to the Village they called home, helping to preserve it from their marauding enemies bent on blood and destruction. Now 12 years later Ivar Bjornson is a fully fledged Warrior Priest of Ulric, taking his axe and shield where Ulric deems him needed, never questioning his lords wisdom. Indeed these trips sometimes even take him back to Kattagat to help fend off one raid or another. On these occasions, with the homecoming of his son, and the chance to fight at his side once again before he becomes to old to truly make a difference, Bjorn throws a feast, and that means good food, a warm hearth, all the ale you can drink, and many toasts to Ulric.<br />
<br />
<br />
<center> Anoint yourself with the blood of Ulric that you shall not fear to bleed. <center><br />
<center> Pledge yourself to Ulric's work that you shall not fear to suffer. <center><br />
<center> Give yourself to Ulric that you shall not fear to die. <center><br />
<center> For if you find yourself alone, standing in fields of snow with the cool wind on your face, <center><br />
<center> Do not be troubled for you are in Ulrics' hunting grounds! <center><br />
<center> And you are already dead! <center><br />
<br />
<center> ''' ''Ivar Bjornson to the Imperial troops'' '''<center><br />
<center> ''' ''At the Battle of Drakwald'' '''<center><br />
<br />
<br />
[[File:Wolf_Axe.jpg|center|center|center|350px]]</div>Bjornhttps://pathfinder.peeblesclan.com/index.php?title=Ivar_Bjornson&diff=996Ivar Bjornson2025-09-24T23:19:19Z<p>Bjorn: </p>
<hr />
<div>[[File:Ivar5.jpg|center|center|center|750px]]<br />
<br />
'''Appearance:'''<br />
Ivar Bjornson, Warrior priest of Ulric is an imposing site, standing 6'4" and weighing 17 stones. This makes him larger than the vast majority of the Empires citizens, yet still slightly smaller that the Norscans he is so accustomed to fighting. Like most Ulric followers Ivar has long Hair and a beard. In his case they are Platinum Blonde almost white. Ulric keeps his Head shaved on the sides and back, ringed in tattoos of Ulric runes and symbols, as well as down the left side of his face over his eye. The long hair from the top of his head pulled back in a long thick braid hanging to mid back. His armor is a fine well kept plate breastplate and pauldrons, wolf fangs ringing the waist of the breast plate. Loops over this a thick chain, running diagonal from his right shoulder to left waist, from which hangs a copy of one of Ulrics sacred books, The Liber Lupus. His legs are covered by high quality supple black leather robes lined on the inside with chainmail armor that hangs to his ankles, split to the waist in the front for movement. Over his plate pauldrons, a luxurious well kept grey wolf pelt drapes his shoulders with the head resting on the right shoulder, a black cape and hood, flowing from the pelt, The hood again made of supple black leather to keep the rain off his pate (after all Ulric requires his warriors to be brave, and forthright, not to bath in the rain).<br />
<br />
'''Background:'''<br />
Kattagat, a sea village on the Sea of Claws in the Empire of man's Norldland province. A Thriving place, with good fishing in the fjord, and rare fertile farm land inland. It is these exact qualities that draw the attention of the forces of destruction to it. Norscans from across the sea, and Beastmen and Goblins from the Forests further inland. As such Kattagat has seen its fair share of raids, from both the land and the sea. It is a testament to the hardiness of these Nordlanders that call this place home that they are not only able to survive in this hostile environment, but actually still thrive in it. If you ask any of them, it is due to the villages devotion to Ulric, the god of Winter and War.<br />
It is in this village 27 years ago under a blood moon on the winter solstice that Ivar was born, the son of Bjorn a respected warrior and seamen of the village. Bjorn both respected his god, and knew the dangers of living near the sea of claw, so took to training Ivar in both the theology of Ulric, as well as the martial practices used to honor their god and their very survival. But unlike the savage Norscans across the sea, the Nordlanders also understood the value of knowledge and learning. Thus Bjorn also ensure his son had the education to not only read his lord Ulric's scriptures and tenants, but to write his opinions and thoughts down as well as speak the languages of the people that boarder Nordland.<br />
For 15 winters he taught his son, imparting all the knowledge he could into him, until finally he deemed him worthy of the highest of honors in his mind. Thus it was that he took his savings and bought Ivar passage to Middenheim to study at the high temple of Ulric, to learn the deeper secrets of their god so he could dedicate himself to serving Ulric in repayment for all the aid Ulric provides to the Village they called home, helping to preserve it from their marauding enemies bent on blood and destruction. Now 12 years later Ivar Bjornson is a fully fledged Warrior Priest of Ulric, taking his axe and shield where Ulric deems him needed, never questioning his lords wisdom. Indeed these trips sometimes even take him back to Kattagat to help fend off one raid or another. On these occasions, with the homecoming of his son, and the chance to fight at his side once again before he becomes to old to truly make a difference, Bjorn throws a feast, and that means good food, a warm hearth, all the ale you can drink, and many toasts to Ulric.<br />
<br />
<br />
<center> Anoint yourself with the blood of Ulric that you shall not fear to bleed. <center><br />
<center> Pledge yourself to Ulric's work that you shall not fear to suffer. <center><br />
<center> Give yourself to Ulric that you shall not fear to die. <center><br />
<center> For if you find yourself alone, standing in fields of snow with the cool wind on your face, <center><br />
<center> Do not be troubled for you are in Ulrics' hunting grounds! <center><br />
<center> And you are already dead! <center><br />
<br />
<center> ''' ''Ivar Bjornson to the Imperial troops'' '''<center><br />
<center> ''' ''At the Battle of Drakwald'' '''<center><br />
<br />
<br />
[[File:Wolf_Axe.jpg|center|center|center|350px]]</div>Bjornhttps://pathfinder.peeblesclan.com/index.php?title=Ivar_Bjornson&diff=995Ivar Bjornson2025-09-24T23:18:46Z<p>Bjorn: </p>
<hr />
<div>[[File:Ivar5.jpg|center|center|center|750px]]<br />
<br />
'''Appearance:'''<br />
Ivar Bjornson, Warrior priest of Ulric is an imposing site, standing 6'4" and weighing 17 stones. This makes him larger than the vast majority of the Empires citizens, yet still slightly smaller that the Norscans he is so accustomed to fighting. Like most Ulric followers Ivar has long Hair and a beard. In his case they are Platinum Blonde almost white. Ulric keeps his Head shaved on the sides and back, ringed in tattoos of Ulric runes and symbols, as well as down the left side of his face over his eye. The long hair from the top of his head pulled back in a long thick braid hanging to mid back. His armor is a fine well kept plate breastplate and pauldrons, wolf fangs ringing the waist of the breast plate. Loops over this a thick chain, running diagonal from his right shoulder to left waist, from which hangs a copy of one of Ulrics sacred books, The Liber Lupus. His legs are covered by high quality supple black leather robes lined on the inside with chainmail armor that hangs to his ankles, split to the waist in the front for movement. Over his plate pauldrons, a luxurious well kept grey wolf pelt drapes his shoulders with the head resting on the right shoulder, a black cape and hood, flowing from the pelt, The hood again made of supple black leather to keep the rain off his pate (after all Ulric requires his warriors to be brave, and forthright, not to bath in the rain).<br />
<br />
'''Background:'''<br />
Kattagat, a sea village on the Sea of Claws in the Empire of man's Norldland province. A Thriving place, with good fishing in the fjord, and rare fertile farm land inland. It is these exact qualities that draw the attention of the forces of destruction to it. Norscans from across the sea, and Beastmen and Goblins from the Forests further inland. As such Kattagat has seen its fair share of raids, from both the land and the sea. It is a testament to the hardiness of these Nordlanders that call this place home that they are not only able to survive in this hostile environment, but actually still thrive in it. If you ask any of them, it is due to the villages devotion to Ulric, the god of Winter and War.<br />
It is in this village 27 years ago under a blood moon on the winter solstice that Ivar was born, the son of Bjorn a respected warrior and seamen of the village. Bjorn both respected his god, and knew the dangers of living near the sea of claw, so took to training Ivar in both the theology of Ulric, as well as the martial practices used to honor their god and their very survival. But unlike the savage Norscans across the sea, the Nordlanders also understood the value of knowledge and learning. Thus Bjorn also ensure his son had the education to not only read his lord Ulric's scriptures and tenants, but to write his opinions and thoughts down as well as speak the languages of the people that boarder Nordland.<br />
For 15 winters he taught his son, imparting all the knowledge he could into him, until finally he deemed him worthy of the highest of honors in his mind. Thus it was that he took his savings and bought Ivar passage to Middenheim to study at the high temple of Ulric, to learn the deeper secrets of their god so he could dedicate himself to serving Ulric in repayment for all the aid Ulric provides to the Village they called home, helping to preserve it from their marauding enemies bent on blood and destruction. Now 12 years later Ivar Bjornson is a fully fledged Warrior Priest of Ulric, taking his axe and shield where Ulric deems him needed, never questioning his lords wisdom. Indeed these trips sometimes even take him back to Kattagat to help fend off one raid or another. On these occasions, with the homecoming of his son, and the chance to fight at his side once again before he becomes to old to truly make a difference, Bjorn throws a feast, and that means good food, a warm hearth, all the ale you can drink, and many toasts to Ulric.<br />
<br />
<br />
<center> Anoint yourself with the blood of Ulric that you shall not fear to bleed. <center><br />
<center> Pledge yourself to Ulric's work that you shall not fear to suffer. <center><br />
<center> Give yourself to Ulric that you shall not fear to die. <center><br />
<center> For if you find yourself alone, standing in fields of snow with the cool wind on your face, <center><br />
<center> Do not be troubled for you are in Ulrics' hunting grounds! <center><br />
<center> And you are already dead! <center><br />
<br />
<center> ''' ''Ivar Bjornson to the imperial troops'' '''<center><br />
<center> ''' ''At the Battle of Drakwald'' '''<center><br />
<br />
<br />
[[File:Wolf_Axe.jpg|center|center|center|350px]]</div>Bjornhttps://pathfinder.peeblesclan.com/index.php?title=Ivar_Bjornson&diff=994Ivar Bjornson2025-09-24T20:36:06Z<p>Bjorn: </p>
<hr />
<div>[[File:Ivar5.jpg|center|center|center|750px]]<br />
<br />
'''Appearance:'''<br />
Ivar Bjornson, Warrior priest of Ulric is an imposing site, standing 6'4" and weighing 17 stones. This makes him larger than the vast majority of the Empires citizens, yet still slightly smaller that the Norscans he is so accustomed to fighting. Like most Ulric followers Ivar has long Hair and a beard. In his case they are Platinum Blonde almost white. Ulric keeps his Head shaved on the sides and back, ringed in tattoos of Ulric runes and symbols, as well as down the left side of his face over his eye. The long hair from the top of his head pulled back in a long thick braid hanging to mid back. His armor is a fine well kept plate breastplate and pauldrons, wolf fangs ringing the waist of the breast plate. Loops over this a thick chain, running diagonal from his right shoulder to left waist, from which hangs a copy of one of Ulrics sacred books, The Liber Lupus. His legs are covered by high quality supple black leather robes lined on the inside with chainmail armor that hangs to his ankles, split to the waist in the front for movement. Over his plate pauldrons, a luxurious well kept grey wolf pelt drapes his shoulders with the head resting on the right shoulder, a black cape and hood, flowing from the pelt, The hood again made of supple black leather to keep the rain off his pate (after all Ulric requires his warriors to be brave, and forthright, not to bath in the rain).<br />
<br />
'''Background:'''<br />
Kattagat, a sea village on the Sea of Claws in the Empire of man's Norldland province. A Thriving place, with good fishing in the fjord, and rare fertile farm land inland. It is these exact qualities that draw the attention of the forces of destruction to it. Norscans from across the sea, and Beastmen and Goblins from the Forests further inland. As such Kattagat has seen its fair share of raids, from both the land and the sea. It is a testament to the hardiness of these Nordlanders that call this place home that they are not only able to survive in this hostile environment, but actually still thrive in it. If you ask any of them, it is due to the villages devotion to Ulric, the god of Winter and War.<br />
It is in this village 27 years ago under a blood moon on the winter solstice that Ivar was born, the son of Bjorn a respected warrior and seamen of the village. Bjorn both respected his god, and knew the dangers of living near the sea of claw, so took to training Ivar in both the theology of Ulric, as well as the martial practices used to honor their god and their very survival. But unlike the savage Norscans across the sea, the Nordlanders also understood the value of knowledge and learning. Thus Bjorn also ensure his son had the education to not only read his lord Ulric's scriptures and tenants, but to write his opinions and thoughts down as well as speak the languages of the people that boarder Nordland.<br />
For 15 winters he taught his son, imparting all the knowledge he could into him, until finally he deemed him worthy of the highest of honors in his mind. Thus it was that he took his savings and bought Ivar passage to Middenheim to study at the high temple of Ulric, to learn the deeper secrets of their god so he could dedicate himself to serving Ulric in repayment for all the aid Ulric provides to the Village they called home, helping to preserve it from their marauding enemies bent on blood and destruction. Now 12 years later Ivar Bjornson is a fully fledged Warrior Priest of Ulric, taking his axe and shield where Ulric deems him needed, never questioning his lords wisdom. Indeed these trips sometimes even take him back to Kattagat to help fend off one raid or another. On these occasions, with the homecoming of his son, and the chance to fight at his side once again before he becomes to old to truly make a difference, Bjorn throws a feast, and that means good food, a warm hearth, all the ale you can drink, and many toasts to Ulric.<br />
<br />
[[File:Wolf_Axe.jpg|center|center|center|350px]]</div>Bjornhttps://pathfinder.peeblesclan.com/index.php?title=File:Wolf_Axe.jpg&diff=993File:Wolf Axe.jpg2025-09-24T20:35:03Z<p>Bjorn: </p>
<hr />
<div></div>Bjornhttps://pathfinder.peeblesclan.com/index.php?title=Ivar_Bjornson&diff=992Ivar Bjornson2025-09-24T19:42:56Z<p>Bjorn: </p>
<hr />
<div>[[File:Ivar5.jpg|center|center|center|750px]]<br />
<br />
'''Appearance:'''<br />
Ivar Bjornson, Warrior priest of Ulric is an imposing site, standing 6'4" and weighing 17 stones. This makes him larger than the vast majority of the Empires citizens, yet still slightly smaller that the Norscans he is so accustomed to fighting. Like most Ulric followers Ivar has long Hair and a beard. In his case they are Platinum Blonde almost white. Ulric keeps his Head shaved on the sides and back, ringed in tattoos of Ulric runes and symbols, as well as down the left side of his face over his eye. The long hair from the top of his head pulled back in a long thick braid hanging to mid back. His armor is a fine well kept plate breastplate and pauldrons, wolf fangs ringing the waist of the breast plate. Loops over this a thick chain, running diagonal from his right shoulder to left waist, from which hangs a copy of one of Ulrics sacred books, The Liber Lupus. His legs are covered by high quality supple black leather robes lined on the inside with chainmail armor that hangs to his ankles, split to the waist in the front for movement. Over his plate pauldrons, a luxurious well kept grey wolf pelt drapes his shoulders with the head resting on the right shoulder, a black cape and hood, flowing from the pelt, The hood again made of supple black leather to keep the rain off his pate (after all Ulric requires his warriors to be brave, and forthright, not to bath in the rain).<br />
<br />
'''Background:'''<br />
Kattagat, a sea village on the Sea of Claws in the Empire of man's Norldland province. A Thriving place, with good fishing in the fjord, and rare fertile farm land inland. It is these exact qualities that draw the attention of the forces of destruction to it. Norscans from across the sea, and Beastmen and Goblins from the Forests further inland. As such Kattagat has seen its fair share of raids, from both the land and the sea. It is a testament to the hardiness of these Nordlanders that call this place home that they are not only able to survive in this hostile environment, but actually still thrive in it. If you ask any of them, it is due to the villages devotion to Ulric, the god of Winter and War.<br />
It is in this village 27 years ago under a blood moon on the winter solstice that Ivar was born, the son of Bjorn a respected warrior and seamen of the village. Bjorn both respected his god, and knew the dangers of living near the sea of claw, so took to training Ivar in both the theology of Ulric, as well as the martial practices used to honor their god and their very survival. But unlike the savage Norscans across the sea, the Nordlanders also understood the value of knowledge and learning. Thus Bjorn also ensure his son had the education to not only read his lord Ulric's scriptures and tenants, but to write his opinions and thoughts down as well as speak the languages of the people that boarder Nordland.<br />
For 15 winters he taught his son, imparting all the knowledge he could into him, until finally he deemed him worthy of the highest of honors in his mind. Thus it was that he took his savings and bought Ivar passage to Middenheim to study at the high temple of Ulric, to learn the deeper secrets of their god so he could dedicate himself to serving Ulric in repayment for all the aid Ulric provides to the Village they called home, helping to preserve it from their marauding enemies bent on blood and destruction. Now 12 years later Ivar Bjornson is a fully fledged Warrior Priest of Ulric, taking his axe and shield where Ulric deems him needed, never questioning his lords wisdom. Indeed these trips sometimes even take him back to Kattagat to help fend off one raid or another. On these occasions, with the homecoming of his son, and the chance to fight at his side once again before he becomes to old to truly make a difference, Bjorn throws a feast, and that means good food, a warm hearth, all the ale you can drink, and many toasts to Ulric.</div>Bjornhttps://pathfinder.peeblesclan.com/index.php?title=Ivar_Bjornson&diff=991Ivar Bjornson2025-09-24T19:36:33Z<p>Bjorn: </p>
<hr />
<div>[[File:Ivar5.jpg|center|center|center|750px]]<br />
<br />
'''Appearance:'''<br />
Ivar Bjornson, Warrior priest of Ulric is an imposing site, standing 6'4" and weighing 17 stones. This makes him larger than the vast majority of the Empires citizens, yet still slightly smaller that the Norscans he is so accustomed to fighting. Like most Ulric followers Ivar has long Hair and a beard. In his case they are Platinum Blonde almost white. Ulric keeps his Head shaved on the sides and back, ringed in tattoos of Ulric runes and symbols, as well as down the left side of his face over his eye. The long hair from the top of his head pulled back in a long thick braid hanging to mid back. His armor is a fine well kept plate breastplate and pauldrons, wolf fangs ringing the waist of the breast plate. Loops over this a thick chain, running diagonal from his right shoulder to left waist, from which hangs a copy of one of Ulrics sacred books, The Liber Lupus. His legs are covered by high quality supple black leather robes lined on the inside with chainmail armor that hangs to his ankles, split to the waist in the front for movement. Over his plate pauldrons, a luxurious well kept grey wolf pelt drapes his shoulders with the head resting on the right shoulder, a black cape and hood, flowing from the pelt, The hood again made of supple black leather to keep the rain off his pate (after all Ulric requires his warriors to be brave, and forthright, not to bath in the rain).<br />
<br />
'''Background:'''<br />
Kattagat, a sea village on the Sea of Claws. A Thriving place, with good fishing in the fjord, and fertile farm land inland. It is these exact qualities that draw the attention of the forces of destruction to it. Norscans from across the sea, and Beastmen and Goblins from the Forests further inland. As such Kattagat has seen its fair share of raids, from both the sea, and from inland. It is a testament to the hardiness of the Nordlanders that call this place home that they are not only able to survive this hostile environment, but actually still thrive in it. If you ask any of them, it is due to the villages devotion to Ulric, the god of Winter and War.<br />
It is in this village 27 years ago under a blood moon on the winter solstice that Ivar was born, the son of Bjorn a respected warrior and seamen of the village. Bjorn both respected his god, and knew the dangers of living near the sea of claw, so took to training Ivar in both the theology of Ulric, as well as the martial practices used for survival, and to honor their god. But unlike the savage Norscans across the sea, the Nordlanders also understood the value of knowledge and learning. Thus Bjorn also ensure his son had the education to not only read his lord Ulric's scriptures and tenants, but to write his opinions and thoughts down<br />
For 15 winters he taught his son, imparting all the knowledge he could into him, until finally he deemed him worthy of the highest of honors in his mind. Thus it was that he took his savings and bought Ivar passage to Middenheim to study at the high temple of Ulric, to learn the deeper secrets of their god so he could dedicate himself to serving Ulric in repayment for all the aid Ulric had provided to the Village they called home, helping to preserve it from their marauding enemies bent on blood and destruction. Now 12 years later Ivar Bjornson is a fully fledged Warrior Priest of Ulric, taking his axe and shield where Ulric deems him needed, never questioning his lords wisdom. Indeed these trips sometimes even take him back to Kattagat to help fend off a one raid or another. On these occasion, with the homecoming of his son, and the chance to fight at his side once again before he becomes to old to truly make a difference, Bjorn throws a feast, and that means good food, a warm hearth, and all the ale you can drink.</div>Bjornhttps://pathfinder.peeblesclan.com/index.php?title=Ivar_Bjornson&diff=990Ivar Bjornson2025-09-24T19:21:10Z<p>Bjorn: </p>
<hr />
<div>[[File:Ivar5.jpg|center|center]]<br />
<br />
'''Appearance:'''<br />
Ivar Bjornson, Warrior priest of Ulric is an imposing site, standing 6'4" and weighing 17 stones. This makes him larger than the vast majority of the Empires citizens, yet still slightly smaller that the Norscans he is so accustomed to fighting. Like most Ulric followers Ivar has long Hair and a beard. In his case they are Platinum Blonde almost white. Ulric keeps his Head shaved on the sides and back, ringed in tattoos of Ulric runes and symbols, as well as down the left side of his face over his eye. The long hair from the top of his head pulled back in a long thick braid hanging to mid back. His armor is a fine well kept plate breastplate and pauldrons, wolf fangs ringing the waist of the breast plate. Loops over this a thick chain, running diagonal from his right shoulder to left waist, from which hangs a copy of one of Ulrics sacred books, The Liber Lupus. His legs are covered by high quality supple black leather robes lined on the inside with chainmail armor that hangs to his ankles, split to the waist in the front for movement. Over his plate pauldrons, a luxurious well kept grey wolf pelt drapes his shoulders with the head resting on the right shoulder, a black cape and hood, flowing from the pelt, The hood again made of supple black leather to keep the rain off his pate (after all Ulric requires his warriors to be brave, and forthright, not to bath in the rain).<br />
<br />
'''Background:'''<br />
Kattagat, a sea village on the Sea of Claws. A Thriving place, with good fishing in the fjord, and fertile farm land inland. It is these exact qualities that draw the attention of the forces of destruction to it. Norscans from across the sea, and Beastmen and Goblins from the Forests further inland. As such Kattagat has seen its fair share of raids, from both the sea, and from inland. It is a testament to the hardiness of the Nordlanders that call this place home that they are not only able to survive this hostile environment, but actually still thrive in it. If you ask any of them, it is due to the villages devotion to Ulric, the god of Winter and War.<br />
It is in this village 27 years ago under a blood moon on the winter solstice that Ivar was born, the son of Bjorn a respected warrior and seamen of the village. Bjorn both respected his god, and knew the dangers of living near the sea of claw, so took to training Ivar in both the theology of Ulric, as well as the martial practices used for survival, and to honor their god. But unlike the savage Norscans across the sea, the Nordlanders also understood the value of knowledge and learning. Thus Bjorn also ensure his son had the education to not only read his lord Ulric's scriptures and tenants, but to write his opinions and thoughts down<br />
For 15 winters he taught his son, imparting all the knowledge he could into him, until finally he deemed him worthy of the highest of honors in his mind. Thus it was that he took his savings and bought Ivar passage to Middenheim to study at the high temple of Ulric, to learn the deeper secrets of their god so he could dedicate himself to serving Ulric in repayment for all the aid Ulric had provided to the Village they called home, helping to preserve it from their marauding enemies bent on blood and destruction. Now 12 years later Ivar Bjornson is a fully fledged Warrior Priest of Ulric, taking his axe and shield where Ulric deems him needed, never questioning his lords wisdom. Indeed these trips sometimes even take him back to Kattagat to help fend off a one raid or another. On these occasion, with the homecoming of his son, and the chance to fight at his side once again before he becomes to old to truly make a difference, Bjorn throws a feast, and that means good food, a warm hearth, and all the ale you can drink.</div>Bjornhttps://pathfinder.peeblesclan.com/index.php?title=File:Ivar5.jpg&diff=989File:Ivar5.jpg2025-09-24T19:20:26Z<p>Bjorn: </p>
<hr />
<div></div>Bjornhttps://pathfinder.peeblesclan.com/index.php?title=Ivar_Bjornson&diff=988Ivar Bjornson2025-09-24T18:24:09Z<p>Bjorn: </p>
<hr />
<div>[[File:Ivar4.jpg|center|center|500px]]<br />
<br />
'''Appearance:'''<br />
Ivar Bjornson, Warrior priest of Ulric is an imposing site, standing 6'4" and weighing 17 stones. This makes him larger than the vast majority of the Empires citizens, yet still slightly smaller that the Norscans he is so accustomed to fighting. Like most Ulric followers Ivar has long Hair and a beard. In his case they are Platinum Blonde almost white. Ulric keeps his Head shaved on the sides and back, ringed in tattoos of Ulric runes and symbols, as well as down the left side of his face over his eye. The long hair from the top of his head pulled back in a long thick braid hanging to mid back. His armor is a fine well kept plate breastplate and pauldrons, wolf fangs ringing the waist of the breast plate. Loops over this a thick chain, running diagonal from his right shoulder to left waist, from which hangs a copy of one of Ulrics sacred books, The Liber Lupus. His legs are covered by high quality supple black leather robes lined on the inside with chainmail armor that hangs to his ankles, split to the waist in the front for movement. Over his plate pauldrons, a luxurious well kept grey wolf pelt drapes his shoulders with the head resting on the right shoulder, a black cape and hood, flowing from the pelt, The hood again made of supple black leather to keep the rain off his pate (after all Ulric requires his warriors to be brave, and forthright, not to bath in the rain).<br />
<br />
'''Background:'''<br />
Kattagat, a sea village on the Sea of Claws. A Thriving place, with good fishing in the fjord, and fertile farm land inland. It is these exact qualities that draw the attention of the forces of destruction to it. Norscans from across the sea, and Beastmen and Goblins from the Forests further inland. As such Kattagat has seen its fair share of raids, from both the sea, and from inland. It is a testament to the hardiness of the Nordlanders that call this place home that they are not only able to survive this hostile environment, but actually still thrive in it. If you ask any of them, it is due to the villages devotion to Ulric, the god of Winter and War.<br />
It is in this village 27 years ago under a blood moon on the winter solstice that Ivar was born, the son of Bjorn a respected warrior and seamen of the village. Bjorn both respected his god, and knew the dangers of living near the sea of claw, so took to training Ivar in both the theology of Ulric, as well as the martial practices used for survival, and to honor their god. But unlike the savage Norscans across the sea, the Nordlanders also understood the value of knowledge and learning. Thus Bjorn also ensure his son had the education to not only read his lord Ulric's scriptures and tenants, but to write his opinions and thoughts down<br />
For 15 winters he taught his son, imparting all the knowledge he could into him, until finally he deemed him worthy of the highest of honors in his mind. Thus it was that he took his savings and bought Ivar passage to Middenheim to study at the high temple of Ulric, to learn the deeper secrets of their god so he could dedicate himself to serving Ulric in repayment for all the aid Ulric had provided to the Village they called home, helping to preserve it from their marauding enemies bent on blood and destruction. Now 12 years later Ivar Bjornson is a fully fledged Warrior Priest of Ulric, taking his axe and shield where Ulric deems him needed, never questioning his lords wisdom. Indeed these trips sometimes even take him back to Kattagat to help fend off a one raid or another. On these occasion, with the homecoming of his son, and the chance to fight at his side once again before he becomes to old to truly make a difference, Bjorn throws a feast, and that means good food, a warm hearth, and all the ale you can drink.</div>Bjorn