Description

Personality

Grimnir is a cheery fellow that of which does not fit her overall looks. Not one to pass up the time to joke even on the battlefield, thus winning the name Joker of Seven Hells. Her house is full of laughter given anytime of the year, this is even more so when someone passes in the House of Thorneir for they fell in battle and we must rejoice of their bravery and dedication! She stands by the belief that when battle comes calling you become a cold hearted killer, silent in the night unknown to your enemies.

Likes: The cold, Blizzards, Women, hunting, mind games.
Dislikes: Bunnies, warm weather, men who see her as less then.
Fears: Losing her sense of self.
Weaknesses: Grimnir is loved by all she rules yet they dare not cross her. Just as her Great Grandmother Eir, Grimnir cold as ice on the inside warm and loving to those she knows. The value of a human life to her is simply incomprehensible, they are merely tools to get you where you wish to go in life. This has lead her to many troublesome bouts with villages elsewhere, as she kills rather then asks questions. This does not only have Political repercussions if she were to ever end the life of a Noble, but it would also cause future harm for her people. This does not mean she is reckless and going about killing those who defy her or just killing anyone in an argument over petty things (such as having a political discussion), only those who are deemed less herself. For lack of a better set of words she is batshit insane...

Equipment

Grimnir wears no armor.

Her only weapon is a bow strung from the oak that stands tall weathering the cold winters and bitter springs, arrows forged not of steel but a mix of the bone of the wild animals that she hunts and the mines she runs that produce Beryl. Her bow is tipped with sharp razors if the prey reaches her, though it rarely does.

History

The snowy plains that surround the House of Thorneir are a bitter way to die. Grimnirs Great Great Great grandfather Thorneir Skjoldr Niflheimr was given rule over this landscape. Most Lords might have become bitter over being given such a deadly piece of land but he accepted it wholeheartedly thinking of ways to train not only his brethren but his future family as well. Thus came to be the Archers of Thorneir, deadly hunters unmatched in the ways of the bow. Many years after Skjoldr passed his daughter Eir Niflheimr took his place turning his warm demeanor into that of a woman ruled by a heart of ice. Many thought it was due to her husband sleeping with a vllage whore, whilst some stated she was given that heart by Hael herself. The name of Thorneir flourished under Eir rule, but only in battle not in the political world. On the yearly huntsman games Eir fell prey to a pack of bears, to this day no one knows the reason why that event took place.

Her daughter Narfi Niflheimr took the Rule breaking free of her mother's frosty grip on the people. She welcomed trade and art into the homes of the people of Thorneir, but she lacked the skill to dominate in the games as her mother once did. Though her political mind was sharp she fell to one flaw, the love of a man. She was found on her bed gutted mouth stretched into a smile. It was slowly approaching Grimnir's time to take the rule but her father stood strong unwaivering his fists of might guided the fellows Thorneir to do great things. The years began to catch up on Grimnir's father, and she stills find this odd but no one seems to remember her father's name. Normally the Lords have their names engraved in the caves below the Manor, yet his did not find it's place there.

The fellows of Thorneir were wary when Grimnir took the Lordship, she was known to be quite cold, unloving, similiar to her Great Grandmother, too close as some stated. Something changed in Grimnir not more then four summers ago she ran into a woman no younger than herself. She sported white hair but her skin was dark of the dirt of which she tread, her smile lifted the ice that covered her being changing her to the very core. This change was not one of happiness but of lust, wanting, sadly she did not see her ever again even still she waited in the same spot year after year on the same day just hoping she would appear once more. She is well versed in the wiles of Political intrigue, the art of poetry and songs and a snowy shadow of death with her handcrafted bow.

Every Ruler in the House of Thorneir is referred to as Lord.