New Inspiration: Hrimnir




One of the very first posts I did a LONG time ago was from a character named Hrimnir trying to form a SG based on and around Norse mythology. Needless to say it tanked partly because I didn't have the time to manage such a thing (Still don't really) and partly because I was never really happy with the first version of the character.

However, as is usual for me, the idea would NOT let me go. Just to assure the lot of you however, I'm not stopping the Chess story or the stuff in the Whitmoore RP... just tossing out my idea for a "new" character to see what you all think of the idea. He's on Virtue, and as soon as I get my home PC fixed (long story don't ask) I hope to get some quality RP in with him.

Oh... and as if you didn't know from my "quote" for a signature... I LOVE Norse mythology. So please forgive any mis-spellings.


I have seen the last days before…

The fimbulwinter fell like a curtain of lead about us. I lived deep in the mountains of Jountenheim where the winds can strip the flesh off a man's bones and the snow was deep enough to bury a mountain. Even then, we spoke of the unnatural cold and the heaviness of the snows.

I lived alone then. I LIKED my solitude.

But what solitude could one have when the horn of Heimdall sounds across all the nine worlds?

I looked out from my cave and saw Fenris swallow the sun and then begin to chase the moon. It was then I knew the end had come.

The frost giants, children of Ymir, sprung to battle. They raised the standard of Loki and grabbed their arms and armor.

I simply poured another bowl of soup for myself.

“Brother!” They called. “Brother! The chained one is free and he leads the damned from Hel’s domains to wage war upon the Aseir! The Wolf has swallowed the sun and now chases the moon, and Jormungar even now battles with Thor! Join us brother! Fight the Aseir with us and let us reclaim this world in the name of our father Ymir!”

“Would be conquerors.” I called back after I drained my bowl of soup and poured another. “You called me ******* when I was a child, freak when I was a man, and now brother when you need me. You slew my trollish mother and scorned my noble frost giant father. I have always been a pawn in your eyes. May Hel take the lot of thee.”

“But Brother!” They cajoled. I merely slammed the door to my cave shut.

The battle was harder to ignore than the calls to join it however. Soon it spilled into Jountenheim and the lands burned. I opened my door to see the sky black, the seas red, and the ground scorched. I saw Odin kill Fenris, and Fenris swallow Odin in return. I saw Thor finally kill the Midguard Serpent only to feel the flesh melt off his bones from the beasts dying breath. I saw Loki laugh just before Magni, wielding his fallen father’s hammer Mjollnir, smash the trickster’s skull in from behind.

All this I saw from my cave, and still I did not join.

What could a freak… a half troll, half giant do in a battle between Gods?

And so… I witnessed the fall of the nine worlds, the burning of Yaggridsil, the world tree, and the final cold that swept over all.

I remember the darkness, and the feeling of stone and ice encasing me. I welcomed both as an escape from a world that never wanted one such as I.

Imagine my surprise to awaken, surrounded by mortals wearing little white coats, in a metal room.

I opened my eyes to just such a sight, and sat up, breaking the ice and stone that encased me for time untold. How much time passes between the death of one world and the birth of another?

The mortals fell back, and many muttered in fear. Some in strange green clothes aimed silly little tubes at me. Others barked orders in a language I did not know.

“Oh DO shut up!” I roared. My head hurt already and all I wanted now was a new bowl of soup.

It was then that I found out the silly little tubes were not so silly. They spat fire and metal at me. I was startled as I felt the hot metal punch through my breastplate, and even more surprised when I could feel my cold blood upon my chest.

“HEY!” I roared, and encased myself in ice. If the mortals wanted to spit fire at me, I would remind them why trolls and frost giants were feared. The waves of frigid winds flowed off my body and filled the room. The men in green holding the silly tubes soon began to shiver and whimper.

The room was finally coming to a comfortable temperature for me when one of the men in the little white coats crawled forward. He spoke… haltingly he spoke… but I understood this one!

His accent was terrible and his grammar was atrocious, but he at least spoke the proper tongue. Not the yelping the others in the room uttered. He pleaded with me to stop freezing the room and apologized for the soldiers for shooting me.

“Your room is too hot.” I replied. “Your soldiers look like fools holding little tubes and wearing nightshirts. And bows shoot arrows, tubes SPIT.” He looked at me shocked and waved the men in green off. When they shivered again and lowered their tubes I gradually allowed the heat to come back.

“Who… art thou?” Asked the man in the little white coat.

“I am Hrimnir, son of Hyrdgald the frost giant and Maddag the Troll-wife.” I replied. The man shook his head and yipped in his mortal tongue to the others. They gasped and shook their heads.

“Frost Giants don’t exist.” The little man stated.

“Oh really?” I replied as I dropped the temperature once again. He yelped and begged for forgiveness.

“Now then little man… Where am I? Is this Midguard? And how did you survive Ragnarock?” I wanted to know these things, but my stomach added its own point of view, growling loudly. The men jumped and looked at me warily. “And can I get a bowl of reindeer soup?”

It is a strange thing indeed that I was told. The men came back quickly with answers and books, showing me many things. The soup alas, was nothing more than chicken. But it was good so I held my tongue. While I drank from the bowl the men told me that this was the year 2004. I snorted knowing the world to be far older than that. But still they pressed on. They told me I was in a land called Sweden and they had found me in my block of stone and ice deep in the ground.

“That is not surprising.” I stated simply as I drained my next bowl of soup. “I was there when the nine worlds collapsed.”

Again the men yipped and argued. I meanwhile, helped myself to some bread.

They soon began to become bold and asked to measure my body. I allowed them to do so, and soon found myself stripped bare to my blue skin and white hair. They measured everything about me. From the length of my beard, to the girth of my horns (fine trollish horns I might add. The envy of every ram I had met), to the stride of my foot. They examined my armor, my pants, my boots, and my axe. These were the few things I had with me at the end, and they had come with me to this new beginning.

Soon they began with more questions and I told them all I knew. From the Gods, to the Mortals, to the Giants, to the Trolls, to the Dwarves, to the Elves, and many more besides. They were in awe of all my tales, and I was pleased. I always wanted to be a skald, but what use were tales and songs to giants and trolls.

I asked them for a fiddle. The men rushed to find one, and soon they had one, but it was much too small for me. I made do however, and began to play them the songs I knew and tell them the tales I remembered. It was a good thing and made me do something I had not done since the days of my childhood.


The men spoke of a great city in a country called America. I thought that was a silly name but did not vocalize it. Besides, my mouth was full of a drink called beer after all the singing. Frankly I prefer mead but the men said that almost no one made that anymore. I shall have to teach these men sometime.

But this great city they called Paragon, and said that they had some of the worlds finest scientists there. I asked what a scientist was and they said that they were scientists. I suppose it is a new world of scholar, but they resolved to send me there regardless to answer more of their questions. They also promised me to see men and women who had powers like those of the Aseir. I merely chuckled at that but the thought of mortals with such powers scares me.

We shall see when I get to this “Paragon.”

I just hope they have a decent reindeer soup. I HATE Chicken.



((Looks great, my friend. Very well written and conceived. ))