Reborn Unto Fire
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_Ysolde Wildfire
PC Name: Ysolde
GSID: TheNightIsDarkPortrait
Born into a harsh world where Auril's embrace rules the land and it's people with an unforgiving iron grip that would make most thrills of the gauntlet proud, Ysolde's father was a proud man when she was born unto the warm fires of his tent. Unfortunately Ysolde's mother died in the act of bringing her into the world of life moments after seeing her baby girl and speaking her name.
"Ysolde….."
Her father, Gynar Frostchild. Was fortunate enough to hold a place of power as the honor guard of Ragnar Icesoul, warrior shaman of Auril and spiritual guide of the tribe. In this cold and harsh land it was considered folly by. Most not to give the queen of air and darkness her veneration and due respect. It was not for want of trying that Ysolde did not embrace the faith of the icemaiden, she would do her part to honor the icemaiden each night and held a healthy fear of her wrath. But her heart was not frigid, she had a soul with a fiery radiance that would match her hair, when she had the misfortune to be caught in an avalanche bought on by a thundering moot of the mountain's ice giants. Able to flee into a cave before she was crushed by the immense weight of the falling snow, she was still trapped between frigid snow and ice-cold stone. Quickly she felt her body's warmth begin to fade, but before she passed into the arms of a cold death she saw an amber light shining through a crack In the stone.
"you have me, taunt me not crone….."
"CHILD…"
But then the strangest thing happened… She thought herself to be hallucinating at first, but the voice grew louder.
"CHILD, HEARKEN…"
She sat, shivering against the cavern wall in a mixture of fear and cold. She tried to move closer to the light but her frigid limbs would not move no matter how hard she tried. She saw the light begin to fade, but she cried out.
"No!"
At the piercing note of her cry, the light spilled forth once more but is time it was different. A warm light washed over the frigid limbs of her shivering body, and the warm of a thousand great pyres filled her with a warmth greater than she had ever experienced in the past. Slowly she stood, moving towards the light filled crevice and as she reached out her hand, a crackling voice like a roaring pyre filled her mind.
"Child… Let fall the yoke of the frigid witch and embrace he light..."
"I wear it not, not in my heart, my soul."
"Then what is not hers is mine, let it be done."
For the first time in her life she felt whole, touched the the natural forces so ancient they were around at the primordial dawn of all that exists today.
"If you are fit to succeed you will do so, your faith in me is a worship innately superior to other faiths, especially those of others who claim power over the elements, especially the weaklings of ishita's thrills. Fire and purity are one and the same; the smoke produced by fire is created by the element of air in its jealousy and through the impurities of the material being cleansed by the flames. The driving force in the Kossuthan church is ambition, and the reward of successful ambition is power. Remember always that darkness and shadows are the children of fire's cast radiance, that there is no fear to be found in the dark when one's fire burns brightly."
When she emerged from the cave days later, her rebirth the start of a new life. She knew that she would have to keep her new found faith to herself. Lest she risk being found out by Auril's servant amongst her people, or worse, her father. For years she visited the cave high in the mountains, communing with the now silent source, with each passing cycle she grew to better understand the gifts she was granted by the lord of fire. But like all things her secret was naught into the light. Cornered by her people's priest and voice, she was condemned as a heretic to be beheaded and left out for the wolves. But before he could lay hands on her, she cried out to her lord and with but a touch of her hand to strike away his, he was immolated in divine fire.
Put on display for her people to see her as she was, an affront to everything they believe in, she was forced to push her small sense of regret to the deepest depths of her mind. At the back of the crowd, she saw the muscle bound form of her father hurrying to the side of his master, but when he broke through the crowd of his kinsman, he was faced with his worst nightmare.
His daughter had betrayed the clan.
With a bezerker's howl, he charged forward to his daughter only to be met by a blinding light. So radiant was her reborn soul that it's flame burning at its brightest was too intense to behold. But lost to the blood blindness, her father's axe leapt into his hand, hacking wildly at the shining figure, he struck true. At that moment Auril chose to show her displeasure at the death of her servant, a blizzard swept the slope and in the chaos of that moment her people never saw what happened to her, but she was not seen again amongst her kin.
Ysolde wandered for the sum of three years, even going so far south as Yulash. But there was always something calling to her from the realm in the shadow of the giantspire range. Recently she arrived by way of her last powerfull scroll, emerging from the embrace of a great oak in the northern rawlinswood. Her fire did not burn as brightly as it once had in the high mountainous slopes of Vaasa, but she was steadily restoring the radiance of her inner light, with time, she would be her former self and see kossuth's place in he natural order protected._
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