Frigá Carabor
Champion Frigá Hlín Carabor, of Torag
Heroes of the past are far too easily forgotten in time's endless sands.Frigá Carabor was a Champion of Torag, the dwarven progenitor deity, and a warrior-hero of Gildómar. She lived through the Worldrend, and was instrumental in the subsequent wars that shaped Iskaldhal's history.
Champion of Torag by Hanhula (via Midjourney)
While little remembered in the modern day, she is ultimately the reason that the initial wars between the fledgling nation of Fjolkandr and the nations of Gildómar, Sjarvaldir, and what would become Falthorin and Myrkalla. She died a martyr, doomed to be forgotten by history, but paved a pathway of peace for others to follow and secured a long period of peace for her people to finally enjoy after decades at war.
She follows in the footsteps of her bloodline. Zirconia Carabor, an indirect ancestor of hers, gave her life and soul many years prior to the eternal defence of the Heartforge of Iskaldhal as one of its High Priestesses.
Frigá's own line continued past her own demise, continued by her five children that would go on to forge their own heroics and families; a descendant of her eldest son would go on to slay a great wyrm in the midst of its attack against Fyrneistur, and a descendant of her youngest daughter would eventually marry into the Gildón ruling line.
Physical Description
General Physical Condition
She got more golden every year, I think.Frigá was a short, stocky woman with heavy muscle built through craftwork and battle-training. Though she was formally a cleric, and many people associate clerics with robes and delicate healing, she was anything but stereotypical: her hammer was an extension of her own fists, and she used it at every moment she could.
Her left wrist held her Champion mark, and as she gained more of Torag's power, it changed her further. Her tanned skin, weathered and worn down with a million battlescars, gradually either turned to metal or had metal beneath it. Her eyes changed from her deep browns to glowing gold, her pupils vanishing as the sacred light she carried vanished.
Yet her Championship did not stop her from making her own marks; in fact, it seemed to aid her. Among the scars and the gold, she embedded tattoos in her skin with ink and crushed gems, relying on her deific healing to meld them into something new. Her skin practically sung with the weight of lost names and loved ones by the time she finally passed, and this was how she loved it.
Her heartstone had been a diamond since birth, owing to her family line; when made the Champion of Torag, she refused to change it for an upgraded diamond offered by her deity. It now rests in Memory's Pathway, long-hidden by those that came after.
Champion's Touch by Hanhula (via Midjourney)
Mental characteristics
Personal history
Oh, she was a cheery one. Always takin' the time tae mess with the lads, always out-forgin' them, beating them in the wee fights she'd started.Frigá Carabor was born in the lull before the Worldrend, when the red planet of Terra Arcana shone like a moon in the sky of Istralar. Her family was well-off in Gildómar, and as the fourth child and second daughter of her family, she was mostly free to do as she pleased in a calm childhood with little strife. As a child, she was made of mischief and glee - except for the days she'd spend in Torag's churches, praying to their creator.
Passions by Hanhula (via Midjourney)
As she grew up, she expanded her talents. She began with blacksmithing, to the amusement of her parents who had half expected their devout child to wind up cloistered in one of Fyrneistur's churches.
When she'd mastered blacksmithing and made a name for herself, she quietly revealed the divine spark she'd developed to her master and to her parents, and soon found herself training at the church she'd spent so much time at.
She had enough time to both train as a cleric and start her mastery over jewellery before things went wrong. Originally, her plans had been to become a divine enchanter for her deity.
She also evidently had enough time to meet a number of good friends at her first church and the one she later moved to as her training progressed, dancing through a chain of relationships before finally settling into something enduring with a scribe by the name of Dinn.
As the years passed, her hopes hardened into a burning determination; equally, as the years passed, those who she wished for peace with started to disappear.
She married Dinn in the middle of the battlefield in a fit of desperation; the gold of her armour was as fine as any chapel, she claimed, and she had no wish to lose him too.
After Nazhla and her partner disappeared into the Heartforge, setting foot where Frigá could not follow, she only grew more insistent on her dream of peace.
She would barge into diplomatic meetings, offer to meet with enemies that could offer some glimpse of peace, and even sought out contact with others on the continent and beyond it that might have been able to help wrestle war into something lesser. Still, progress was slow, and so incredibly rare.
The years did not touch her, passing her by like a stone in water, but gradually, they swept away everyone else.
Frigá and Dinn by Hanhula (via Midjourney)
Sacrifice by Hanhula (via Midjourney)
His passing changed something in her. Though there was plenty in this world to fight for, she no longer needed to be part of it - her children were grown, many of them on the battlefield just as she was, and her friends had all moved on.
She mustered one last attempt at parlaying, pleading for her deity to use all of what she had left to intervene. One final blast of power so that, if anything, their people would listen to their god - a deity they shared, and a cost they would all respect.
One moment of channelling magic far beyond what any mortal's body could hold; a final sacrifice of herself, of the greatest of both sides.
It was enough for Gildómar to give in and permit Fjolkandr's existence. It was enough to establish a peace between the disparate dwarven nations across Iskaldhal. It was enough for peace - for a time. Eventually, tensions would build up again, but not until Frigá's sacrifice had long since become history.
Alignment
Lawful Good
Species
Conditions
Ethnicity
Previously Held Ranks & Titles
Date of Death
Prior to 1000 EA
Circumstances of Death
Sacrificed herself for peace
Children
Sex
Female
Gender
Female
Presentation
Feminine
Eyes
Originally brown, became gold
Hair
Thick dark hair
Skin Tone/Pigmentation
Tan
Height
4'2
Aligned Organization
Frigá didnae stop every war, aye, but she made space for a lastin' peace. If she hadnae fought, we'd hae seen a genocide in the end, and those are a bloody, bloody spiral. The wars that followed were nae as bloodthirsty. Our people survived in all our wee nations. Peace cannae be perfect forever, aye, but peace makes the followin' pain lesser, gives ye a chance to breathe. Sometimes, ye see it hold for centuries.
Frigá's Hammer
Like most of Torag's most devoted, Frigá wielded a warhammer on the battlefield. Though initially she used a rather basic steel warhammer, she did eventually craft herself a magical behemoth of a weapon. Known as Frjalshamar, it was a large gold-plated warhammer that concealed an adamantine surface studded with sharp diamonds. She enchanted it to function as an extension of her, and over time, instilled a unique will and intelligence into it. It was said to have the ability to amplify spells and make attacks on its own if its wielder was downed, and could hammer through swathes of enemies in a pinch. Different energies seemed to spark through it everyday, from burning flame to biting frost or even piercing light. It isn't known what has happened to Frjalshamar since Frigá's disappearance, for it is said to have been left behind where her body was not. Some assume that it lingers in Gildómar's vaults, forgotten by all but the most dedicated of scholars. Perhaps it will one day find use on the battlefield in pursuit, once again, of peace.Everyone always speaks of Frigá's deeds, but never do they speak of who she was as a person. She was a battle-hero, aye, and a mother. You cannae boil a person down to the roles they play in life. It does them a disservice. And she was a spitfire and a hellion together in one! Her smile dimpled if it were true, and oh, she smiled so frequently. Rarely has there been someone with as much cheer as her. She hated spiders - thought they were creepy - and called her husband to take them out of the house, for all that she could've incinerated them. Oh, the fights she picked. Quite a lot of money was lost to bets on what she'd do, on who she'd mess with next, on who'd win the drinking contests she instigated. Love, too, was her favourite thing. She always liked to play matchmaker. Even made her own match! She was head over heels for Dinn immediately. In another world, she'd have gotten to grow up and tell all her stories to her grandchildren. We're not in that world, so you'll hear them from us instead.
Aw, I love her. I don't know why but the quote from "a friend" made me cry.
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