Yarna Þursadóttir–or Frostdaughter–my half-elven barbarian from my group’s Dungeons and Dragons campaign. It takes place in an alternate-history Europe where the Christian Knights are beginning to encroach on the druids and creatures of the Black Forest. They wear unfamiliar armour and use strange magics of their own to enslave and exploit.
Yarna was abandoned by her parents to die on the mountains but was rescued and raised by the Frost Giants (Hrýmþurs). She’s thick as bricks but man can she wield a sword. Also it’s magical oooohhh~
Special thanks to @harleygreatnessfor helping me with the Icelandic translations and mythology.
“One of my hobbies is zombie apocalypse preparedness. When you’re on a plane and someone comes from the cockpit and says ‘Can anyone here fly a plane?’ If the guy next to you says, 'I can,’ you’re saying 'Oh, my God. This guy…’ [applause] Now, there’s gonna be, when the zombie apocalypse happens, like 'We need to get from point A to point B. We need to somehow fortify this SUV so we can go and the zombies won’t get in. Can anybody here weld?’ That’s gonna be me. And I think it also works out too, because nobody wants that guy to get eaten.” - Nathan Fillion
This is a guy with Celtic Dreads and a woad face tattoo/body art:
In sharp contrast this is Afro-Caribbean dreads:
Yeah, you see because the two cultures have different hair texture the results are different but Celtic people had dreads too and if you want to prevent our culture from wearing them then I’m afraid you’re participating in “cultural erasure”!
We were fighting Briar Witch Dryads (We named them Holly and Tannenbaum) in the temple of Vecna when a thought suddenly occurred to Rooster the (well-meaning, not very bright) paladin.
ROOSTER: “Heyyyyyy, ladies…you know, we have a friendly wood-woad back home at the castle…all you’d have to do is renounce evil and I’d be happy to introduce you…”
(This is true. We befriended him some years ago, thereby derailing a great deal of plot. He lives in the orchard now.)
GM: “No. Just no. No. Anyway, you’ll have to wait until your turn.”
ME: “But I can roll Diplomacy on my turn?”
GM: “Fine, sure, whatever.”
Rooster’s turn rolls around…
ROOSTER: “So! Let me tell you about my friend Woad-Bob! He has his own wasp nest! Very…um…sexy bark? With…err…great…big..boles…”
GM: “I guess that’s versus will, but…”
ME: (rolls high) “You know I have +19 to Diplomacy, right?”
GM: “…oh, you’re f'ing kidding me!”
*pause for gentle sounds of GM head meeting keyboard*
GM: (grimly) “Tannenbaum would like to hear more about Woad-Bob.”
ROOSTER: “I have a picture in my wallet!”
RANGER: “…why do you have pictures of the wood-woad in your wallet?”
ROOSTER: “It’s not weird. I have everybody’s picture. Drow-Bob…Woad-Bob…that one kobold with the thing on his head…the Hydra…You know, in case I meet a nice young monster looking to settle down.”
RANGER: “How is that not weird?”
ROOSTER: *carefully hides the ranger’s picture* “Check out Woad-Bob! Look at those branches! And his own orchard!”
GM: “The dryad leaves combat and is waiting to go back to the castle with you. Why. What is this. What. How?”