Solveig Kluger

Race
Ice Giant

Sex
Female

Age
27

Languages.
Giant dialect Heimtunga.
Common.

Physical description
Height: 8'9''
Hair color and style: White, messy and knotted hair.
Eye color: Blue.
Other features: Light blue skin, a massive scar on the left side of her face, her left eye being marred by it. She has small scars over her hands and arms. Leaves a trail of frost where ever she walks.
Saved Titles: TBD

Birthplace
A long gone village of giants in Heimgardr.

Mannerisms
Doesn't know how to quite be a normal person, as she has been raised a slave, and is very awkward without realizing it. She could be viewed as distant and calculating because of her experiences.

Occupation(s)
Slave.

Solveig was born during the harshest winter of the decade. It is said that the birth of Ice Giants mark a terrible future for the clan she belongs to. Whether it be a mere myth or some sort of curse, a terrible fate did befall her clan. starting with her mother. She died in childbirth.

She lived the first few years of her life in the little village, receiving mixed reactions from her clan. She was a bad omen, but her father rejected this notion and loved her dearly. She lived a fairly normal life though she was shunned from children her age due to their parent's instructions. She learned early on how to entertain herself with no other company around.

When she was six, a pirate slaver attacked her village. Her father was taken with her alive after he was knocked unconscious, and half of the village sat in the cargo hull of the pirate ship. She went into shock, not wanted to believe what was happening. She was taken to Belch's Bay for a brief while where, after her father nearly crushed the pirate lord's skull when he threatened to separate the two, were sold to the same person.

The dark skinned man was a coliseum slave owner, and liked her father's ferocious looking scowl when he looked at him. But the child came with the father, pesky pirates were always trying to squeeze in some extra coin. So he took the offer and whisked them away. He told her father straight, he was to fight, or he would die, and then what would become of the child? Her father had no choice but to fight in the coliseums. So they traveled the world, her father slowly gaining recognition as a coliseum slave, and her serving as a house slave, cleaning, helping cook, and other menial tasks.

When she was becoming too large to move around the service areas of the ship, she had to be reassigned. A slave making no turnover profit is just a mouth on a leash. The dark skinned man had a plan for her. He would make her a circus act! Yes, ofcourse. She had always helped in the kitchen by holding the master's glasses of alcohol to keep it cool on the sweltering heat of the high seas or the nose bleed section of the coliseums. Perhaps he could use this to his advantage?

At first, she was almost like the bearded lady attraction, just an out of the ordinary thing you payed to see. Payed extra to really find out if she was cold to the touch. But the master decided it was not reeling in enough coin. So, when she was 15, he began to mold her into her father. A supreme fighter. He hired expert hand to hand fighters to train her, and at first she was reluctant. Her father and her had become distant, his constant fighting had left him broken on the inside. He was never one to spill another being's blood for no reason but he did it every day to keep his daughter safe. When she expressed her distaste in becoming a coliseum fighter, she was beat severely and sent back to training.

When she was 18, she had her first fight. The master put her in an oversized cloak and made her hold her head low, he loved the dramatics. And when they called her name, she raised her head, and oh how the crowd gasped that there was a woman in the coliseum! The master sweated, this was a great financial risk. A woman in the coliseum could spell death for his reputation if she failed.

She was faced against a spry and agile Fiend. She killed him.

The crowd roared at the spilling of the freak's blood, either way it was a freak of nature dying so it didn't matter. She slashed the axe across his throat, as he reached up for something that didn't exist with one hand, gripping his throat with the other, her eyes went wide, and her hand reached out to grab his, in a vain attempt to apologize. He collapsed onto the sand before his hand could touch hers, gurgling. Her mouth went agape, her eyes fixated on the cold, glassy pupils of the fiend. The blood in her ears drowning out any other sound, even the crowd's approval.

Afterward, she was beat severely for showing weakness in victory.

Her father died not long after she started, killed by an underfed Warg. The master, in a fit of rage that his best fighter had died, and that his new prospective one was crying over it, beat her again.

In just a few years, he had turned a simple minded house slave into an obedient killing machine. They continued to travel across the continents, fighting where ever they stopped. For the first few years, it was seamless, most fights were quite easy for the experienced slave. She was usually and very unfairly put up against novices by her master, too cowardly to take a chance at losing her to something more dangerous at the possible reward of getting more coin.

But it started to get harder. The fighting wore down on her, and her master soon became too confident in her. She was pitted into a fight versus five other highly experienced coliseum slaves, who were on the same team against her. She beat two before being struck down, and by chance she was spared by the coliseum owner. The master, unimaginably angry that his reputation was soiled, beat her again. But his metal pole was like nothing to her now at such a mature age.

She blocked out the pain, staring off into porthole of the ship, watching the sunset as the angry little dark man pounded her over the head. With one last swing, he struck her across the face, the tip of one of her lower canines flying out with some blood. He heaved and puffed, sarcastically thanking her that she was alive so he could make a little bit of profit off selling her. Upon straightening her back and regaining eye contact with the sunset, the sudden realization hit her.

It hit harder than any beating she had ever taken, be it by the master or her opponents. It hit even harder than her father's death.

She was useless.

The mines of Estavyr needed work, the master thought as he massaged his temples and breathed deeply through his large dark nose. It was a dangerous place, and what mine owner could say no to a slave giant that would go into the depths of any monster ridden mine if you told her to?

Skills and Traits.
Strength - Arguably her most defining trait, her strength. Her inhuman strength is what made her of use throughout all of her lifetime.

Melee Combat - Trained for years to deal with axes and fists in combat, and having used those skills first hand, she's quite good with her hands and with a simple weapon. But if the person she is fighting has an agility of over 6-7, then they'd find it easier to dodge and retaliate without a definite fear of getting hit.

Intimidation - Though she's capable of dispatching the regular joe that happens to challenge her, she's more capable of just scaring them out of it. This has mixed reactions however, and doesn't always lead to them backing off.

Poor Agility - She is a worn down giant, and is very unagile and slow to react.

Weapons
None.

Clothing
Grey cloak over tattered woodland appropriate clothing.

Tasks.
?