Runes in the Snow: Orfhal's Runic Totemist

“The dark blizzard had swallowed the sky.

Eira knelt in the white silence. Her breath curled into strange shapes only she could decipher. Snow lashed at her fur-lined cloak, and the cold began to cut through her skin.The wind howled with the voice of the Wolf God. Still, fear could not touch her.

The scavengers had come at dawn; with fire and steel, curses and screams. Her tribe scattered like ashes in the snow. Now, she was alone. The survivors, those not taken, were hidden somewhere in the frozen planes. Wounded. Shivering. Helpless.

Slowly, she reached into her pocket, pressed her thumb against a bone ring and whispered. “Isa.” A rune appeared on the ring, shimmering in blue. Her body suddenly felt warm, and the weather was no longer torture. She had only one thought: She needed to hang on. Hang on long enough to strike back.

She rose and walked up to the ridge. The enemy camp nestled in the hollow below, campfire flickering like a heartbeat in the storm. Without a thought, she drew a rune in the air and whispered. “Fehu.” A black spectral totem erupted before the campfire. It looked ominous, a frozen twisted tree with carvings all over. In the blink of an eye, the tree emanated a dark mist.

The scavengers didn’t see her. They simply screamed.

One collapsed as his skin blackened; another dropped to his knees and coughed up blood. The others scrambled for cover, but the mist had already crept into their bones.

She strode forward as she whispered her spell. It took effect with a thunderous boom, and an axe formed purely out of lightning appeared in Eira’s hand. She swung the axe at the nearest scavenger, tore them down, and rushed to the next.

By the time the snow stopped falling, the camp was silent.

Eira knelt beside her totem and pressed her ring against it. It gave off a faint pulse, still imbued with the strength of the rune she had inscribed. As the tree-like totem and lightning axe vanished, she let out a loud sigh. Scavengers of the Wolf God were slain.

She did not smile. There was no joy in what she had done. Only purpose.

The gods might have abandoned the Orfahalar. But the runes had not.

Eira turned south, to the ruins of her tribe and the people she had left behind. Her ring vibrated with heat at her side, and the snow melted beneath her footsteps as she walked.”

Welcome to Orfhal, Svillanders! This time, we are here to share with you a new archetype for the unique Svilland class of the Runewalker: the Runic Totemist.

In the frozen lands of Orfhal, where the cold seems as much a deity as the Aesir, some turn to ancient symbols for power; runes carved into bone, stone, and spirit. The Runic Totemist is a mystical sage who binds the forgotten power of the runes into sacred totems, invoking their strength in battle, in healing, and in survival.

Whether carved into a weathered staff or etched onto a bone amulet, these totems carry the essence of the old runes, granting protection, changing the nature of spells, and even keeping their bearers alive. And when danger calls, the Runic Totemist can summon a mighty spiritual totem, turning the battlefield into a place of death, healing, or warding with a mere rune drawn in the air.

With each level, the Runic Totemist grows in mastery; wielding more runes, reshaping elemental energy, and empowering allies through ancient, sacred magic. At higher levels, their runic magic warps the rules of spellcasting as their totems extend their reach and fortify their spells beyond mortal limits.

The Runic Totemist is more than just an archetype for the people, but a sacred path for those who wish to become the voice of forgotten runes, a hope for the hopeless in the frozen wastes. They stand as revered sages of the intricate, ancient runes and symbols of Orfhalar.