Norn

Born among the Eidhríal Tir, a reclusive and feared lineage of Winter Elves whose home lay buried deep within the glacial hollows of the Frostreach Wastes, Norn was once a child of ritual, spirit, and silence. The Eidhríal Tir did not build cities. They carved sanctuaries into ice. They did not write books. They whispered memories into the snow. And they did not forgive trespassers. Norn was the daughter of a war priestess and a bone seer, raised in the frozen rites of the old ways where every breath was sacred, and every death had purpose. Until the world shattered. When a southern kingdom’s crusaders discovered Draíth’Naal, they saw only “savages” guarding ancient relics. They burned her people. Desecrated their shrines. The spirits did not answer their screams. Norn did not fight to protect them. She survived to remember them. She left with nothing but her mother's blades and a vow inked into her blood: “I will never trust. I will never feel. I will kill, until the storm forgets my name.” Now she is myth and warning, a shadow that walks where kings fear to tread. She speaks little, and when she does, it is not comfort it is a sentence. She kills not for justice. Not for glory. Not even for vengeance. She kills because it is all she has left.