Iron Kingdoms: Flight from the North
Bryyr "Palethorn" Raefyll
Exiled Nyss sorcerer and visionary
Male Nyss, age: 35
Height: 6’4", Weight: 190
Eyes: Ice blue, Hair: White
The winter elf was tall, straight off. Six and half feet and lean as a rabid wolf. His typical Nyss armor was elegant, black and patterned leather studded with bone and horn, with runic patterns died the soft blue-white of ice and trimmed in supple furs of northern mink that seemed more for show than for any utilitarian purpose.
The intricately carved ivory hilt of his traditional Claymore stood over his right shoulder. Inlaid with silver and onyx, this blade seemed to be more decorated than most. A wickedly curved dagger at his belt and an exquisite bow, equally adorned, rounded out the Nyss’s arsenal.
Bryyr’s eyes are were pale blue that upon first glance, some had thought him blind. His gaze was impassive, his countenance calm and frozen as if he was made from ice. Dark twisting tattoos covered the left side of his face completely and a black scarf held back his long pale hair, the sheen of silver reminiscent of icicles. Earrings of bone and thin braids tied into the locks at his temples showed his savage tribal heritage. There was an air of danger around the Nyss— danger of that great blade being bared and blood being shed. It was matched, however, by an air of icy calm, and patience.
The Nyss hunter known as Bryyr Palethorn was born 35 years ago as Bryyr Raefyll, one more son in a tribe known for its skilled hunters. The Raefyll were also one of the few tries amenable to trade with outsiders, establishing friendly trading relationships with Khadoran villages and even the town of Tverkutsk. Thus, Bryyr learned to speak Khadoran, and lead an ordinary life within the tribe, marrying a woman named Kearan who bore him a daughter five years ago. Despite the unpredictable, and at times harsh, life of the Nyss, Bryyr found himself happy and optimistic about the future. All that would change one night just over a year ago.
Bryyr was on a solo hunting trip when a terrible blizzard struck, leaving him in a complete whiteout. For a week, Bryyr wandered through the storm, lost and struggling to survive. As he had reached the limits of his endurance, Bryyr had a divine vision sent by the Winter Father himself: The visions revealed an unknown and all-consuming threat to the Nyss, one which the Nyss would be helpless to stop. Bryyr awoke, branded with a new siyaeric on his cheek and gifted with the divine blessings of Nyssor. He returned to his tribe, convinced that he must help prevent the danger that loomed.
Unfortunately the priests of Nyssor and other tribe members found Bryyr’s visions to be of dubious credibility and the his powers a threat at best and a blasphemy at worst. Thus, Bryyr quickly found himself shunned and then made a pariah for every ill-wind or bad thing that occurred to the tribe. Even his own family, including his wife, withdrew from him. Realizing that his efforts were doomed to fail and forced from his own tribe, Bryyr fled to the wilderness to die. There he was struck by another vision, one revealing the faces of the outsiders that made their home in the warm, inhospitable lands of the south. Thus, Bryyr found himself with a new mission, one that would bring him in contact with the foreigners he despised in an attempt to forge an alliance that would help his people.
The southern folk were weak, and foolish, and Bryyr’s usual patience was tested again and again. He joined the Corvis Expedition as a guide, hoping to meet individuals worthy of helping him fight his prophesied future. Finally, seeing that his companions chose to disregard his sage advise and do battle with northern trolls, Bryyr chose to abandon them to their fate. If the wanderer was destined to ally himself with the humans, it would not be ones so willing to throw away their lives needlessly. The winter elf vanished into the tundra, to seek help for his people elsewhere…