The Birth of a Godling
I was born in Asgard, the land at the end of the rainbow bridge. Not the high walled fortified home of the Æsir gods, but rather the forested surrounds. There in a delightful grove of trees, verged by a thicket of bulging berry bushes, I knew my first memories. That was three thousand years ago.
Although only a newborn, I could already walk and talk. Imagine that? I began to explore the wild and incredibly old woodlands. It was teaming with delightfully mischievous faerie folk, and I wanted nothing more than to be like them. Selfish, carefree, wild, and fun loving. And so I grew up wild, roaming delightful groves of trees, hunting for food, and dancing with the fey under moonlit skies. Did you know I spent my first thousand years without any clothes? That's quite normal among the fey.
Many more years past. One day one of the Asgardian gods strolled through the woods. Normally tradition dictates that we'd paint a visitor purple, but one does not simply paint a Norse God any colour, let alone purple. Besides, apart from Loki, there was one other god truly adored by the fair folk and it was she who was approaching us. Lady Frigga.
It was the first time I had laid eyes on her. Her hair was a curious golden colour, and had what I thought were sad eyes. She knew what we liked, for she immediately made a bet with us. Her bet was that whomever could name her secret would be named Lord of the Wood, and be its Keeper, Protector and best of all Chief Gardener. The prospect of not one, but
four Asgardian titles sent the faerie collective into a frenzy of thought.
'You're Frigga!' one flame-haired fairy answered, before several variations were shouted out.
'Odin's wife!' came another.
'The only god Odin fears!' There was chorus of laughter at this one.
Frigga shook her head, and sat down on a chair that suddenly appeared out of thin air. 'All true, but those are no secrets.'
I was staring hard at her when Frigga looked at me. When our eyes met I felt an abrupt jolt right down my spine. Suddenly filled with a sudden understanding, I blurted out loud.
'Mother.'
At the word, the forest fell silent. Frigga's eyes grew momentarily distant, and she smiled beatifically at me.
It was true, though I looked nothing like her. Frigga is elegant, austere and beautiful. I made my way through life covered in dirt and twigs, laughing and most of all stark naked. Yet the feeling of connection could not be denied, Frigga was my mother.
That was her secret.
Scandalous Events
A long time past in that wood. Was it years or centuries? It is true; time flies when you’re having fun. Frigga never returned to the wood, and there was a certain unstated rule that faerie folk do not enter Odin’s Hall with their antics.
As Lord of the Wood, Keeper, Protector and Chief Gardener, life went on much the same as it did before. Although I took up clothing at that point. I think it was because I hoped Frigga might return if I looked more like her and less like a wild wood fairy. I thought we could talk. Maybe even get a hug like all the other children did. But it was not to be. I did however learn a lot of magical tricks, including the subtle magic of shape changing, suggestion and cursing. Although I had quite a knack for it, I cannot say that it all leapt into my mind unbidden.
Under the light of the full moon Mr Fox entered the wood. He only came on the night the moon was fullest, but he always came and was always welcome. He was unlike any other fox who stalked the wood, Mr Fox spoke several languages and regularly traveled over the rainbow bridge to other realms. Best of all, he always plundered Odin’s Hall before visiting us.
How Mr Fox bypassed the guards he would never say, no matter how hard we all begged to know. But enter Odin’s Hall he did, and he always plundered its larder. He would come to us in the wood, under the full moon, with one of Odin’s ale tankards of ale in tow. Or a carefully prepared goose. Or cookies and brown bread. We were always grateful and impressed for Mr Fox’s daring pilferage.
After we’d eaten our fill Mr Fox would tell stories. This was a special kind of magic unknown to me. Our imaginations were filled with tales of heroes and villainy. Mr Fox would mimic the sounds of rain, chill our blood with the voices of demons and make us all collapse in gales of laughter at his ribald jokes. When all the others had gone to sleep, Mr Fox would then teach me a new magical trick. This was the part I looked forward to most, and countless moons came and past, the number of magical tricks Mr Fox imparted upon me grew lengthy indeed.
Otherwise, life in the wood went on as usual in Asgard. I lost count the number of trees I planted, and lived contentedly with my wild companions. They were wild days and crazy nights, and full of song and laughter.
Eventually I was told the situation with my parentage was something of a scandal.
The fidelity of Frigga was beyond question, and yet Odin was not my father. After a time idle tongues helped me piece together the story Frigga refused to tell. Loki, in the guise of Odin, had tricked Frigga and fathered me. It was awfully complicated, with Loki being responsible for the death of her true child Baldur. In a way, it was a twisted way of returning a child to her.
Nonetheless, it was agreed that Frigga should not lose another child and Odin decided that I should be spared, but kept outside in the wood and never to enter the Great Hall. I don't think you'll be surprised at how agreeable I found that decision. I was content.
Big Trouble in Little Midgaard
The most beautiful and terrifying thing about the universe is that everything changes with time. From the other end of the rainbow would come travelers from other realms. I often found myself waiting nearby to see who might next emerge from the other side. When one looked friendly enough, I’d approach the being and pepper it with all manner of questions.
One day, a traveler came from Midgaard, that place others call Earth, with horrifying news. Some alien race there was enslaving Faerie Folk and using them to power magical devices. The process robbed a fey being of its freedom and sanity, being unspeakably cruel and evil. The race responsible was called the Splugorth.
My own reaction to the news surprised me. Please understand that I’m really quite a jovial being, and have been for millennia. This was a day of destiny. And the worst day of my life. It’s all a bit of a blur and it took me a little while to calm down. By the time I collected myself I was hammering on the doors to Odin's Great Hall demanding audience.
Word passed from the guards to those within the Great Hall. After a few minutes I was shocked again when the guards were told to admit me. I was an outcast, one of the many embarrassing children of Loki. Even that six-legged horse had a better reputation than I. And there you have it, I hope you realise that Odin's wisdom is more than a myth, he seemed to have anticipated all of this. And they say Loki is the wily one.
'Well now, little Godling,' Odin's voice was surprisingly gentle. 'Why do you weep?'
I honestly hadn't realised I had. I wiped the tears away, feeling a little embarrassed. I had never wept before in my life. Or been angry for that matter. I was very angry indeed.
'Well?' the All-Father pressed.
'Because those things aren't just killing the Fair Folk,' I replied, 'they're using their very souls for dark magic.'
'And what do you plan to do about it?' Odin seemed curious, and I felt his single eye see right into my heart.
'All-Father,' I stammered. 'I thought - that is - I -'
I stopped, suddenly realising the truth of it all. I had spent a lifetime, dozens of lifetimes in fact, living amid some of the most magical beings in the universe. I had grown to love them dearly, and was even something of a leader among their kind.
Odin acquiesced to my life in Asgard so that I would gather up enough power to go out and save them myself, and consequently build my own life outside Asgard. My existence was something of an embarrassment within Asgard, even in the woods outside. Frigga, my mother, kept her distance to ensure I eventually left. It was the best for everyone all round. I understood.
'I must go to Midgaard and help them,' I said slowly, 'and I can't expect your aid can I?'
'You have your wits and cunning,' Odin explained. 'Use them.' The last statement had a sense of finality to it. My audience was soon at an end.
I nodded slowly, my mind turning. I would miss the wood and my faerie friends, would they be alright without me? There were other Fair Folk like them on Midgaard. They needed me. I hoped I had the power to help. No army of valkyries at my back; just my wits and cunning. I hadn't ever travelled outside Asgard before. For a fleeting moment, the prospect of leaving alone into an unknown world seemed like lunacy.
'Your fey friends in Asgard will be fine, some may even follow you to Midgaard,' Odin declared suddenly, as if he had been listening to my thoughts, 'and you have been preparing for this moment from the day you were born. You are ready. Now is the time for you to go forth and find your destiny. It cannot be with us here in Asgard. That can never be.'
'I am sorry, you know.'
'For what,' Odin asked.
'Being born,' I said bluntly.
Odin's voice sounded whimsical. 'No you are not. For my own part, I am but also I am not. You have a purpose, one that even I cannot fully forsee. Go to Midgaard and go in peace. Frigga will guide you, and know that you are not without love,' he said.
My imagination fired with an idea at that moment, and I had Mr Fox to thank for it. Childhood images of roasted geese, tankards of ale and cookies floated through my mind.
'And use my wits and cunning?' I asked, my voice unsteady as I fought to suppress laughter. I hoped it came across as some other emotion.
Odin nodded tersely. 'Yes, I have had visions of such. Do it the way the faerie folk would. That is your strength.'
Not trusting myself to speak again, I bowed deeply, turned and walked out of the hall.
Pilfering the Hall
A burly guard escorted me to the exit. A humourless Berserker of some sort. His armour was very impressive, all in chrome, and etched with runes. He marched soberly along the precise centre of that hallway, leading me towards the exit. As the two of us rounded a corner and entered a corridor we were, for a moment, completely alone. The time was ripe to follow Odin’s orders; to use my wits and cunning.
We strode efficiently a few more paces before I spoke a few magical words. Instantly, the sound of clanking boots ceased as all sound was magically suppressed. The berserker stopped and turned to face me, rewarding me with a fierce scowl smeared across his face. Before he was roused to action I snapped my fingers and a small rift opened beneath his feet. He fell into it, shaking his fist at me silently as he fell downwards. I waved happily. Then the rift closed.
Now without an Asgardian chaperone on my heels I had a little time before he returned, unharmed, to the spot I rifted him out. I ran down a side corridor, my mind churning over old stories of Mr Fox. While the thieving talking fox stole food with great regularity, he also imparted a good knowledge of the layout of this building. Running and panting like a dog, I took a few turns and soon enough found the door to what Mr Fox told me was the armoury.
The door was made of heavy steel and probably capable of fending off angry giants. Worse still, specific runes carved upon it meant it was warded with anti-magic. No spells would open this portal. In some ways it made this even more interesting, surely some worthwhile supplies were within! Eyeballing the lock with a mischievous eye I soon chuckled. It was a mechanical tumbler drum variant designed to be opened with a large heavy key. I supposed Odin kept it stuffed in his underpants. This would be easier to pick than my teeth.
There was a satisfying click, and tiny motors in the door-frame hummed as they pulled the door wide open. I hopped in, flushed with pride and giddy with excitement. I was following Odin's orders to the letter! Do it the Faerie Way!
The shining golden vault beyond was smaller than I expected, probably belonging to a minor lordling of the hall and not Odin himself. I had no time to be fussy, and leapt at a storage shelf with outstretched arms and greedy grasping fingers. Within a conjured dimensional pocket I shoved in a few weapons and items of interest. The process was done in under a minute, I would risk no more time.
Thus laden with supplies for my coming adventure, I closed and relocked the door and glanced down the hallway. All clear. I slipped into the hall and marched firmly for the exit. I thought innocent thoughts, and looked calm and collected. Moments later I was outside.
Admiring the sunny sky, I whistled happily and forced myself to walk slowly; trying to ignore the building I just left. There was no commotion, and presumably the berserker was still falling through the bottomless pit I conjured. Another minute passed. Then I reentered the wood, and immediately teleported to the Bifrost and freedom.
And a whole new world. Earth.
Character Reference Sheet
Concept
- What emotion best describes your character? Mirth
- What emotion does your character evoke in others? Amusement, Awe, Fear.
- What does your character need most? Friends, enemies and frienemies.
- What is your character’s goal in life? To save the faerie folk from the hands of the Splugorth.
- How does your character believe this goal can be accomplished? Creating alliances and turning Splugorth allies against one another.
Background
- Where did your character come from? Most recently the Faerie Kingdoms of Southern Newfoundland.
- When did you grow up? Asgard; that mythical place found at the end of the rainbow.
- What values does your character hold? Imagine the forbidden love child of Loki and Frigga. That is Hemlock. Like Frigga she wishes to protect kindly folk from harm, but like Loki she has her own outrageous and bizarre manner of getting the job done. Hemlock's idea of justice is very different from modern morality. When a fight comes she often toys with opponents and enjoys them suffering like a cat. Like many of her faerie folk friends she values friendship and sees humor in almost any situation. She will always keep her word to a friend, but happily lie outrageously to strangers and enemies.
- How does your character dress? Form is fluid. Dress varies according to whatever takes her fancy. Very fond of metamorphosis spells to change day to day.
- What are your character’s means? Magic.
Details
- What are your character’s personal tastes? Fascinated by stories, including those found from Pre-Rifts Holovids. Often considers these as legends based in truth, particularly the 'documentaries' on Chuck Norris and other film stars in that bygone era. Loves flowers, forests, fields and the open sky. Partial to hunting for her food when possible.
- What are your character’s opinions? Dislikes arrogance and individuals who consider themselves the smartest person in the room. Splugorth and demons are a menace to be destroyed. Faeries are the ones who have seized the gift of life and celebrate it.
- What is your character’s comfort zone? Basking in the sun, having just devoured a couple rabbits from the morning's hunt. Watching one of Gloriosa's strange holovid tales.
- Who has had the biggest impact on your character’s life? The happy freewheeling spirits that are the Faerie Folk. Hemlock has spent an age frolicking with them in the wild forests outside Asgard. It was Frigga, beloved by the faerie folk, whom convinced Hemlock to ride the Bifrost and intervene on behalf of the Fair Folk who have suffered terrible fates a the hands of the Splugorth. Finally, there is Gloriosa, who is Hemlock's closest friend and guide in this strange world.
- What are some of your character’s unexpected quirks? Doesn't like violence, and would prefer to chat than kill. Thinks flowers are delicious. Has a childlike wonder with things found in the world and is curious about everything. Has no concept of private property. Appears young but in fact is very old and a little senile, often forgets what spells she knows and needs to think on it before deciding.
Play Details
- What kind of story does your character belong in? One full of exploration, preferably outdoors. Need opportunities for fun and mischief, as well as chances to help some poor faerie folk.
- What role does your character fill? Magical support, has a vast range of spells instinctively known to the godling.
- What should the other players know about your character? Hemlock has only a rudimentary understanding of the world, and will need things certain things explained. You are dealing with a godling dragon, so be fun and not condescending unless you are looking forward to spending the day as a butterfly. Can be positively deadly when roused, wise folk would mind their tongues.
- What is your play style? Explorer, Supportive
- How do you want your character to die? Laughing.
Goals
Short Term Goals:
- Goal 1: Find some fun mortals with a sense of humor and power.
Suggested Solutions (Goal 1): Go to MercTown and talk to the various groups present.
Goal 2: Find a home.
Suggested Solutions (Goal 2): Either move in with a group in MercTown or take a residence in the area. We can just take them right? Needs a lair big enough for Gloriosa's hoard, and space enough for two dragons.
Goal 3: Stick with Gloriosa
Suggested Steps and Solutions (Goal 3): Find some places to explore that interest both of us. Important to watch Gloriosa closely for clues.
Mid Term Goals:
- Goal 1: Learn more about the Splugorth and how to free faerie folk.
Suggested Steps and Solutions (Goal 1): Find out what this enemy is exactly and form a plan of how to do the most good.
Goal 2: Drive an automobile
Suggested Steps and Solutions (Goal 2): Purchase or steal one. Probably a red one, for legends say they are fastest!
Goal 3: Liberate Faeries!
Suggested Solutions (Goal 3): Having lived a long time, many of these trapped folk are personally known to Hemlock. Perhaps some location magic could find long lost friends...
Long Term Goals:
- Goal 1: Amass core of followers for conflict to come
Suggested Steps and Solutions (Goal 1): Shifters have their ways.
Goal 2: Destroy Splugorth
Suggested Steps and Solutions (Goal 2): Use amassed power to take on some achievable target.
Goal 3: Rule a land of the Faerie Folk
Suggested Steps and Solutions (Goal 3): Reclaim some wilderness as a place for the Fair Folk, possibly expanding the borders of the Faerie Kingdoms of Southern Newfoundland.
Disposition
- Is the character verbose or stoic? Verbose. Hemlock is outwardly very friendly, outgoing and curious.
- Is the character funny or dour? Funny. Spending centuries with faerie folk has given him an appreciation of fine pranks.
- Is the character a follower or a leader? Happy to lead, but most Midgaardians would not want that.
- How does the character react when under pressure? With a smile on her lips and a song in her heart.
- Does the character volunteer for tasks? Certainly, though her methods might be unexpected!
- Is the character friendly? Extremely friendly!
- Does the character offer mercy? If provoked to violence the only natural course is devour the enemy. Unless they taste bad, or have been good fun.
- Is the character curious and/or adventurous? Very curious and adventurous. Although ships on water make her seasick.
- Is the character prejudiced about anything? Demons and devils stink. Anyone who wants to deal with these things is in dire need of a smacked bottom.
- How does the character react to aliens? Who you calling alien pal?
- How does the character react when the character is the victim of prejudice? Rabbits are fun, maybe we should turn them into a rabbit? I've never met a prejudiced rabbit, so rabbitification is clearly a cure for prejudice.
- What is the character's passion? Fun in the sun!