Fjorhiem the Frigid

Fjorhiem and Morgrym's story and their unique connection begins as if out of a story-book or tall tale. But a cub, Fjorhiem's mother had been attacked by poachers and killed and her cub had been taken with intentions to sell to a circus. Hunting white bears that are with cubs is illegal in Suranth, regardless if you have the necessary documentation of being a hunter by profession, part of a guild or otherwise. Mothers with young are always off limits of every species. Thus, poaching. They knew what they were doing for they also captured the cubs. One died en route, the other however was smuggled into Geata-Iarainn with the intention to sell them to an exporter to take them across the sea to another nation, likely Rohara, though Morgrym is unsure, to become a circus animal. However he just so happened to be down amongst the docks, wandering that seedier neighborhood for unrelated reasons, reasons that were to do with a manhunt for an apostate in all likelihood. He was wandering by and happened to hear the transaction, and catch sight of the cub when the heavy blanket covering its cage was lifted.

Morgrym does not know what about the bear cub caused him to pause. Though yes it was clearly a criminal act, it was below his responsibility. He had a mission and a goal. Yet he swears that his holy symbol chilled as the bear cub locked eyes with him, as if Sir Kartheart himself demanded that he intervene. So Morgrym threw back his hood, opening his cloak to reveal his Lancer breastplate, striding forward hand on his handaxe, a clear promise should anyone amongst the group making this exchange get uppity.

With the power of his position and the open threat of it made without words it was no difficult task to....let us say 'negotiate' that perhaps it was in everyone's best interest if they simply walked away from this moment, cut their losses, and left the contraband that was this bear cub in Morgrym's trust. Though obviously not happy about the situation, all parties involved acquiesced. Presumably they recognized not just that a Storm-Lancer stood before them, but given the telling scar that runs from nose to right ear, a gift from an orc breserk he'd fought early in his career, they recognized the dwarf himself. You'd be a fool to want to fight the First Lance.





Well after that, Morgrym simply couldn't part from the creature and Fjorhiem for whatever reason, had nae intent ta part from him. The bear oft leaves Geata-Iarainn ta this day for a month or two, traveling up along the coast ta the mating grounds near Northrend Point ta compete and mate, but the creature always comes back, and Morgrym always meets him outside the city to welcome 'im home. As to how he became a warmount, well that is simply a natural progression. Morgrym you see, was an odd one for a Lancer. His first mount had died many moons back and he still mourned that fine boar. He had steadfast refused to take another mount up to this point. Respect for his position let him get away with this, however it was certainly tense, a difficulty. The Storm-Lancers, should they ever be called upon in their militant capacity by church or nation are a cavalry force after all. So their leader needs a mount, such is simply the natural way of things. Yet he steadfast refused. Until Fjorhiem. One day when training new initiates in regards to care of their tack and gear, and readying to give them some basic lessons as to how to fight from boar-back, a task he again always made harder by insisting to be on foot, Fjorhiem came out amidst a ruckus from the Armory's stables. With Morgrym's old tack and kit in maw. None know why, and honestly Morgrym is unsure why instead of anger or sorrow, instead of sending the bear off and away, he accepted the implication. Yet accept he did. Fjorhiem wanted to fight, wanted to be part of the unit, of the family and Morgrym felt he owed the bear, now nearly four years old, at least that. The creature had saved his life all those years ago, and were stubbornly insistent on sticking around instead of returning to the wild in full.



After months of bonding and training, the pair were inseperable and were a devastating and well oiled partnership, a complete unit within themselves. Over the years and over skirmishes with greenskin war bands, hunts for apostates and Void cultists alike, and other adventures, Fjorhiem is something of a celebrity amongst the faithful of Sir Kartheart and amongst Geata-Iarainn. The bear shows atypical behavior for its kind, though it is a hyper carnivore, it is very friendly and docile, seeming to differentiate between sapients and even their pets and livestock and other prey items. It shows a deeper intelligence than one might expect of most any wild animal, clearly having the divine connection that Sir Kartheart forges between all Lancers and their Mounts. The bear ages slower, and still seems in the prime of its life despite being just over two decades old, which is quite old for white bears, the oldest ever confirmed being just shy of three decades old in the wild. It shows the heightened understanding, even seeming to fluently understand, though be incapable of speaking, both Valarian Common and Dwarven.

Fjorheim's reputation is also that of a hero. The bear has twice rescued people from fires in the city when on patrol, shrugging Morgrym off without explanation, its sensitive nose guiding it. The first was a family of three, the second were four dock workers from a Ghel plant. In battle, the bear and Morgrym have a sterling reputation, one so feared that goblin tribes across the Irontip Range refer to the pair as Iztslik Frigazan Vi which in their tongue means Blizzard of Death.

Fjorhiem is even said to have felled a frost giant, alone, whilst protecting Morgrym in one particular engagement, where the dwarf was brutally injured by a thrown boulder in the charge, knocking him from the bear's back. As the lancers hit the greenskin line, Fjorhiem noted the two giants swinging around the melee, clearly having seen they'd hit Morgrym, the lead rider, and intending to close on him and capture or more likely kill him. Fjorhiem pivoted through the melee and with the ferocity only a white bear can muster, ripped, tore and shattered his way through all orc and goblin resistance that dared to try and slow him, making it to his friend before the giants and at the same time as Morgrym's own human oath-brother, Twaren.

The pair faced the two frost giants head on, alone, away from the front line, and though they should have been outmatched, they each found victory despite that. Fjorhiem for his part, fought through what would later be confirmed was a shattered front left leg, a lacerated lung, and half crushed ribcage. Through all that, the bear still managed to bring down the frost giant whom inflicted those grevious injuries and insure the unconscious body of Morgrym remained untouched. It is this story that give the bear the nickname 'the Frigid'. For Twaren to this day claims that the bear, when the frost giants attempted to use their innate foul ice sorcery to chill and even freeze the pair of them solid, the bear seemed to draw in a deep breath, snarling a challenge that echoed, as that breath seemed to consume the frost magick. Naturally this is generally seen to be exaggeration, and its more likely the bear and Twaren merely attacked and disrupted the attempts to grasp for that magick power. Regardless that story stuck and thus, Fjorhiem the Frigid was born.