Fjarriagua Culture

[Pompilidae 237]

Fjarriagua Culture:

As observed by A.B Prudence

 

    Those maiden’s of the snow, or what little is known of them, surely does not cast a favorable light. Tales of women who abduct children in the night, consume any and all men in sight and wreak havoc on any village they can wrap their cold hands around: it is all wrong.

    Fjarriagua are highly motivated and intelligent creatures. They operate within tightly knit covens. The inner workings of their existence has long been shrouded in mystery. 

 

 

‘Nothing is easier than to denounce the evildoer; nothing is more difficult than to understand her’

 

The Coven: 

Hierarchy 

 

    Motherhood: often a symbol of happiness, family, devotion and incredible physical sacrifice for the continuation of the world…For the Fjarriagua, this carries a much darker and sinister duty. Witch Mothers are the lifeblood of every coven, maintaining their precious daughters and ensuring their safety. The Mother is as powerful as she is wicked. Most prominent is the ability to create new Fjarriagua. Through the touch of a Greater Fjarriagua, a seed is planted and fostered within a descendant woman’s skin. A yearlong transformation takes root, dragging that woman ever further from her mortality. 

    This glorious process is known as the ágæti. The rebirth of a descendent to a Witch is surely a time of celebration for the Coven. Their hunts may double or even triple in amount, acting as gifts for the Fledgling. A grand feast is held at the end of her transformation, and it is said that the new daughter is showered with praise and charms. 

 

 

‘Listen to the cry of a woman in labor at the hour of giving birth - look at the dying man's struggle at his last extremity, and then tell me whether something that begins and ends thus could be intended for his enjoyment.’

 

        The coven is almost entirely composed of Daughters, or simply Fjarriagua. They attend to the Mother and relentlessly vye for her affection and praise. It is said that Mothers are an addictively soothing presence, comforting her tormented daughters and offering reprieve from their misery. These snow Maidens will often band together to plan hunts and other plans to bring about the demise of civilization as most know it to be. Through a common misery and hatred of men, they find solace amongst one another. A lone witch is a rare sight, and is most likely a trap...surely others must lie in wait. Elusive as they may be, most Fjarriagua tend to drop their mask and open up around her sisters. Nights filled with howling laughter and the ring of bells at their feet is a surefire signal that Fjarriagua are near. It is said that tying three bells about the ankle, along with a thistle stem and a Glacier Lilly’s petal would protect a witch from heat. 

 

The Cave: 

 

“Nothing burns like the cold. But only for a while. Then it gets inside you and starts to fill you up, and after a while you don't have the strength to fight it.”

 

Fjarriagua are quite solitary creatures, as they live out their days way up in snowy mountains and tundras. Huddled in caves, igloos and other wintered trenches, they live quite contentedly. Supposedly, the snow maidens are completely immune to the cold and are forged from it. Frightfully so, their control over the great Wintered North is no light matter. From their pallid fingertips, frost flies out from under their control. They celebrate the North and the power from whence it came: Skjoldjier’s Realm. 

What these maidens do to occupy their time up in the thin aires of the North is largely unknown. There is rumor that they perform nightly rituals to greet the moon and frolic within its dark embrace. In the early hours of morning they scatter to the dark, afraid of the sun and its harsh rays. 

 

Skoldjier’s Realm:

 

In many a passing whisper on the street or hidden within old folklore books, lies the realm of Skjoldjier. A place in constant Winter, with no end in sight. For any mortal to enter the Realm, it is a death sentence. Howling blizzards, biting winds and piercing icicles are all that awaits. To a Fjarriagua, Skjoldjier’s Realm is the birthplace of her very existence. 

Long ago, a bride to be waited at the altar. Her groom would never show, and so she became inconsolable and distraught. So distraught, that she abandoned the wedding all together and threw herself into an unforgiving snow bank. Had Father Frost not stepped in, she would have surely died. It is through his redemption of this sorrowful woman that the Fjarriagua were born. A hatred of the man who wronged her and a refusal to let it go froze over Brunhylde’s heart. It would remain this way for the rest of written time. Or so the tale goes. 

 

Spoiler

This is a culture document to inspire general knowledge surrounding Fjarriagua, colloquially known as 'Frost Witches'. This information is meant to be freely available to spice up the roleplay surrounding this CA. Enjoy the read!

 

[Jake the Dog 290]

Seems pretty cold to me bossman.