1.) Basic Information: What is your character’s name (refer to Hellfrost Player’s Guide for naming conventions for race), race, and age?

I am, or I was, Sigrid Larsdohter. I suppose that time has past – not even my family will acknowledge it now. …And they’re right not to. I am Sigrid, The Butcher… sometimes “murderer” “child-killer”, even “abomination”. I’ve heard them all, but The Butcher appears to be attached to me like a bad odor I can’t quite wash away. I still hope someday someone may call me The Courageous, The Sacrificing, or best of all The Savior of Rassilon.

2.) Appearance: What does your character look like?

I’ve heard what people say about me. I used to laugh when my officers would come back with what the common people whispered – about how my fire-red hair was so because I washed it in the blood of my victims, and how my eyes were so green because of my pacts with demons. It only built my legend. Now, these braided locks are only a curse to me; it’s hard to go unrecognized.

3.) Profession: What is your character’s defining skill or ability? Who was the mentor that taught them that skill? Are they alive or dead? How does your character feel about them now?

I have always been defined my life by how I controlled my men. I led with an iron fist, and we were glorious. To keep them in line, however, I needed to fight like the strongest Orc among them. Now that I’ve left them, the fighting is all I have.

I remember convincing Neacal to teach me how to fight; it was the worst mistake he ever made… except maybe kidnapping me. He was the Right-Hand of the then-Leader, and when they raided my home, he decided to keep me as a prize. I suppose I was just smart enough to know a weapon skill would benefit me someday, and he was just dumb enough to believe I wouldn’t hurt him.

4.) Family: Who are their parents and siblings (names, professions) and are they alive or dead? If alive, where do they live and what do they think of your current path in life? How does your character feel about them? What are they like?

I don’t know where my parents are, or my siblings. Before the raid they were all farming. All of them. But if Aileen lived, she should be married by now, and no doubt Imhear has a trade of his own. For all I know, they could have had more children. …if they survived the raid. Every day I hope.

5.) Religion: Does your character have a Patron god? Which one is it? Why does your character revere that god? How devout is your character?

I hold on to every letter, every law, every piece of Sigel I can, because… I’ve followed Dargar into the deepest blood-soaked pits and I can’t get out alone. I need to right every wrong I’ve done and Sigel is the way.

6.) Home: Where is your character from? Where have they been spending their time before becoming an adventurer?

I’m from Saxa. I don’t suppose that matters, though; they won’t acknowledge me. I’ve spent most of my time raiding the whole of the Saxa lands, wherever it was most fertile or profitable; resources aren’t as scarce there, and I know where to hit them.

7.) The Call to Adventure: Something happened recently to your character to make them want to set out on the path to adventure. What was it? This could be an external event or a personal revelation

On occasion my band raided in the northern lands, where men are disparate and unprotected by nobility. This made their villages easy targets. Further, most communities were unfriendly and xenophobic; I had never once expected to see what I saw that day – my final day as a raider. We rode to the top of the hill, and below, with all sorts of poor, improvised weapons in hand were hundreds of townspeople from outlying villages. They were nobody special, just villagers who no doubt knew they were going to die defending this one village… from me. It was then that I began to wonder what I was doing. Cold is overtaking our world, and what could we do, as people, if we united to save ourselves instead of killing eachother? I had my men stand down, and that night I sent them to another meeting place while I decided to leave. Of course, they sent assassins, and Dargar doesn’t accept the loss of his Champion gracefully, but I’ve seen what can be done, and I have to do it.

8.) Personal Goal: What is your character’s goal in life right now? This should be both specific and personal.

I can never get people to follow me, to save this world, if I can’t change how people see me… and what I’ve done. I have a lot to make up for, but my mission is too important to ever back down.

9.) Conflict: Your character had a rival, friendly or otherwise, back home or wherever your character lived last. Who were they, and what was the nature of the conflict between them? How does your character feel about them right now?

Rivals? Sure, I’ve had rivals – they’re all dead. Oh… except one.

There was this man in my band named Degare who kept eying my position, but he had one weakness… Me. I knew it. So one night, he came into my tent with a knife, and got a little forceful in his discussion of who is going to be in charge. However, with a couple flashes of skin and some compliments, we started talking about a partnership. After a few drinks, we were undressed and enjoying eachother’s company. In the morning, I hauled his cold body out and threw it at his brother’s feet.

His brother, Lazare, hasn’t been very happy with me since. I can’t say I cared as long as he was a good soldier, and he was, but now I hear tales that HE leads my old raiders.

10.) Connections: Who are your friends and enemies? Who do you love or hate? What are your prized possessions?

I wonder, sometimes, who isn’t my enemy. In fairness, I deserve their disdain and I should accept it well. Still, the entirety of my homeland wants me dead and that is a harsh reality. I have found a bit of wonder and relief in that little miscreant, Cat. I suppose if I’ve ever felt anything for anyone it’s her, tho feelings are a dangerous new ground for me. What I do know is I find myself wanting to set a good example, and make sure she’s safe and provided for. Being near me contradicts that, but the rascal refused to go away; now I’d rather she didn’t.

I used to have a red-stained, blood-soaked axe carved with Orcish symbols of a hymn to Dargar that was my pride, but I threw it in the river when I left the scene that night. When I did, it felt like someone had walked on my grave – cold shivers down my spine and a great feeling of impending doom that never quite goes away.