Ymir. Brimir. Aurgelmir. Midgard's Seed. The Gelid Mother. The Burning Father. Child of Ginnungagap. Keeper of Auðumbla. The Slaughtered One. Æslings' Bloodied Clay. These and many other names they are known by, but none can begin to describe the totality of that primordial being. They were there from the beginning, and pieces of them will remain long after we've died, until the merciful fires of Age-End come at last to sweep away all the rot and corruption the gods have heaped upon us.
Ymir was born from the primordial void, and in turn they gave birth to the first peoples. They are the ancestor of all jǫtnar, it is well-known. But lesser-known, hidden, perhaps even profane to the ears of those listening, is that they are also the ancestor of all gods. For whose daughter could the first god Búri have married, had Ymir not first birthed her from their right armpit?
And so it was that when the rapacious young upstarts Odin, Vili, and Vé decided to strike Ymir down, it was not only the first murder; it was also the first familicide, that terrible evil that the gods punish us for so severely- and no wonder they do, the hypocrites. For when they slew their great-grandparent, they set in motion all the world's evils, the midst of which we still live in to this day.
They butchered Ymir's corpse, mangled them beyond recognition and fashioned their pieces like sick trophies into the plaything that we all know and hate today. The whole of the earth is thanks to Ymir's flesh turned to stone; the encircling seas their blood, which once roiled and sprayed so high that it threatened to destroy even the haughty gods themselves. Such was the terror of that first sin.
Though they drowned the world in blood and nearly extinguished all memory of Ymir, it persisted. One jǫtunn called Bergelmir and his kin survived, bobbing on the blood-sea in a grain trough until they crashed upon the newly-risen land. He is the spiritual founder of our order; the first to keep the memory alive, the first to spite the gods and their plaything.
The world is painful, grim, and violent. But unlike the petulant Æslings in their gilded halls, we will tell you that things could have been different. That things can be different. Better. A world without walls or feuds, gods or tyrants. A world where life is not predicated upon butchery, nor prosperity upon suffering.
But that change will only come with fire and blood, and a lot of dead gods.
Come and join us, if you've the fury for it. Come and honor Ymir's sacrifice with one hand while avenging it with the other.
What say you, o vengeful?
Illustrations of Ymir's life and death by Lorenz Frølich. |
Avenger of Ymir
Starting Skills: Jǫtunn-Ken and War-Lore. Also, roll on the adjacent table.
B: Stone from Bone, Forest from Hair
C: Sky from Skull, Cloud from Brains
D: Unto the Butchers
You gain +1 Attack and Intimidate vs the gods and their servants for each Avenger of Ymir template you possess.
A: Earth from Flesh
A: Sea from Blood
B: Stone from Bone
B: Forest from Hair
C: Sky from Skull
C: Cloud from Brains
D: Unto the Butchers
1d6 |
Avenger of Ymir Skills |
1 |
You did errands and reagent runs for an old, arthritic troll-wife long ago. She passed some of her lore on to you. Gain a random potion and the "Medicine" skill. |
2 |
They tried to hang you in the name of Old One-Eye for your blaspheming once. Once. Those who lived, regretted it. Gain a length of rope, scars, and the “Acrobatics” skill. |
3 |
You lived among the jǫtnar for a time, and learned how it is useful that most fools believe them all to be huge, ravenous frost giants. Gain a token of friendship, and the "Disguise" skill. |
4 |
You met a human as unafraid of spiting the Æsir as you, and during your commiseration they taught you the finer points of living goðlauss. Gain a defaced idol and the "Philosophy" skill. |
5 |
You went on pilgrimage to the boneyard of a titanic jǫtunn said to be so old they once met Ymir. Gain a fossilized memento (medium weapon, bludgeoning or piercing), and increased comfort with the abyssal gulfs of time. |
6 |
You once rescued a condemned seiðmaðr from drowning on a skerry. Gain a random cantrip from a random wizard school and a litany of creative expletives. |
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