Tristan Úlfarsson

Basic Stats

Age: 32
Origin: Westfjords, Iceland
Reborn God: Fenrir
Talent: Wolfkin

“Stop running in the dream and you will be found. Look to far shores and you will find your true family. Return to the beginning and the end will finally arrive.”

~ Grey Lady of the Huldufólk

Lineage

Tristan grew up in a remote part of Iceland, raised by his grandfather Úlfar — who was later revealed to in fact be Tristan’s uncle, and a troll. After an altercation over the death of Tristan’s father, Úlfar was turned to stone by the touch of sunlight. He remains there still, in both the real and dream world.

Tristan has troll blood, an inheritance that skips generations and appears to emerge randomly under the right conditions.

Wolves and trolls are mortal enemies. There are no wolves in Iceland.

Awakenings

The Wolf

When Tristan finally stopped running in the dream, as per the Grey Lady’s prophecy to him, he was discovered by the old wolf Thorn Paw. Spurred on by this epiphany, Tristan finally left his home in Iceland and began his journey to discover the wolves in the waking world.

“I stopped running and was found.” He said to himself as much as to Thorn Paw.

Brows furrowed low, eyes sharp upon the waters lapping at the base of the mountainside, but finally, he turned to the east instead. “True family waits on far shores.” Her omens were true. Could he leave his home? Was it even possible? What would he do in the east?

The last was an enigma, though. Return to the beginning for the end to arrive. What was the beginning? Was the end an inevitable fate?

“I think I know what I have to do,” he told Thorn Paw, but sadness fogged his voice. The basalt column seemed to protest, but the twisted one within was forever trapped. Grandfather could no longer proclaim Tristan’s fate. He had to cut the bindings shackling his wrists to Iceland. Even if it meant gnawing through the ropes with bare teeth.

He couldn’t stay here forever.

Skógafoss

In Norway, he met Sierra Lupita, another wolfkin, and was introduced to his first wolf pack.

Tristan stared at the approaching woman like he worried she had lost her mind. He came to be standing at some point, though was unaware of the exact moment he took to his feet. Brenna slunk at his ankles, both curious and frightened of the visitors. The wolf – Never – as Sierra named her, continued to watch him like he was batty for not understanding.

As he stared into the wolf’s eyes, he knew them for the gold that stared back in the mirror from his own. Thorn Paw was his only connection, but that was from the Far Realm: unreal dreams.

He put a hand to his temple, images, scents and feelings flooded furious. It was like falling under the ice, he froze to shock, inches from the surface, but unable to move and reach it.

Where he stood without realizing it, he gasped and sank to his knees immediately before Never’s snout. The wolf curled a lip like it might be laughing, but the glint of teeth did not frighten Tristan.

Through the crashing of image after image he focused on those golden eyes and pushed back one of his own. A fire that streaked through open fields, the prickle of wind flattening fur, paws pounding like thunder wyld as the runner sprinted.

The Pack is Restless

The Troll

While in the wolfdream, Tristan was called upon by another of its denizens to offer aid to a water guardian who resides in the waking world under Lake Baikal. While there it transpired the paint marking his skin in the dreamworld is in fact a manifestation of his troll blood.

The call was more than pleasure. It was awakening. Then, the paint that marked him a warrior lengthened like shadows, wrapping his shoulders and ribs, stretching longer and thicker like tongues seeming to lick at her bare thighs.

When he opened his eyes, the gold irises of the wolf patinated. Black crept into the rims as if the paint had leeched from the skin until the whole of his eyes were glossed black rocks. It seemed the paint that marked his face and chest wasn’t paint at all. It was alive as sure as the poison of a troll living inside. They were the mark of a troll that lived in the Other world and the Dream world, and Tristan wanted to lose himself to it.

Soteria

As a result of the troll blood stirring, it was revealed that Gleipnir, the binding used upon the Norse god Fenrir, was in fact tethered to his very soul — and binds him still. Gleipnir appears as a tattoo around his heart.

During this time Tristan’s eyes became as black as the basalt stone of his uncle’s tomb, affecting his sight and offering strange visions. The meaning or consequence of this is as yet unclear.

If the blood was singing, what bubbled to the surface came alive, playing out across his skin in a symphony of movements.

The paint curled into shapes linked together in one slender stroke of black:

A cat poised with one paw raised
A raven with its beak splayed wide
A triangle inverted between two circles
A bear raised on its hind legs
A jagged mountain peak rising tall

As a sixth symbol, a trollkors, settled over his heart, the chains locked together.

Soteria

Wolf Name and the Dream

Tristan’s name evolved alongside his emerging identity. In the dreamworld his appearance differs from his waking self; he is larger and more heavily muscled, his beard and braided hair better kept, and black warpaint swirls his face, back, and shoulders.

WyldeFyre: a brushfire sparking after a lightning storm, consuming all the dead brambles in a wild blaze spreading to the horizon. It’s a name denoting a bringer of light, but a chaotic, out of control light that destroys as much as it shines.

Sun Snatcher: the name given to Tristan by the troll stones in the wolfdream; an ancient name. It is a symbolic devouring of light. In doing so, the trolls would be free to walk the earth.