Brynja Stormfang

Brynja Stormfang does not speak often of where she was born. She will tell you only that it was somewhere far from Carcosa, in a place where too many people believed that birth determined destiny, titles determined worth, and knowledge belonged to those wealthy enough to lock it behind doors. She disagreed. So she stole the keys. Brynja Stormfang spent her younger years travelling between ports, libraries, apothecaries, temples and less reputable establishments, learning whatever people were foolish enough to teach her. Herbs. Poisons. Medicines. Old histories. Sailors' superstitions. Forgotten gods. Languages. Maps. The peculiar things that happen to a man's memory after three cups of wine. And, eventually, the art of putting all of those things into bottles. Some of her potions heal. Some bring courage. Some encourage sleep, clarity, luck or remarkably poor judgement. And some Brynja Stormfang simply advises you not to drink. She eventually followed the trade routes westward until she reached the Golden Isles of Carcosa. There she discovered something she had never found in all her wandering: People who did not particularly care who she had been. Only who she chose to become. She became part of a chosen family of potion makers, a lineage not of blood but of hands stained with herbs, glass, and stubborn curiosity. Brynja Stormfang became a Corsair of the Seven Seas. Not by blood. By choice.

Companions: Among the Corsairs, Brynja Stormfang's closest companion is Thorbjorg Little Seer, the Völva who serves as oracle and seer aboard their ship. Brynja Stormfang trusts Thorbjorg in a way she trusts very few people. Where the Völva peers beyond the veil, Brynja Stormfang searches the accumulated wisdom of the mortal world. Thorbjorg sees what may be. Brynja Stormfang remembers what has been. And somewhere between prophecy and history, the two women have an irritating habit of discovering what is actually happening. Brynja Stormfang keeps records of Thorbjorg's visions, searches old lore for their meaning and prepares the herbs, incense, tinctures and potions required for her workings. She has also made it quietly understood that anyone attempting to harm, exploit or interfere with the Little Seer will eventually require one of Brynja Stormfang's healing potions. Whether Brynja Stormfang chooses to provide it is another matter.

And then there is Relkrez. Between Relkrez and Brynja there is a bond forged through years of shared adventures, hard choices, laughter, disagreement and surviving whatever foolishness the seas have thrown at them.They do not always see the world the same way — nor would either of them particularly want that — but beneath it lies an abiding love and a profound respect for the strength, wit and judgement of the other. Brynja trusts Relkrez at her back. For a Corsair, there are few greater declarations of love.

There is And there is another whose name belongs to her own story, when she chooses to tell it. Sea life has taught Brynja many things — among them that the heart has room for more than one great love.

On Fighting : Brynja Stormfang maintains that the battlefield is a younger pirate's game. She has nothing left to prove by standing in front of an axe or a pike.There are younger, taller, stronger Corsairs for that. She prefers battles fought with information, favours, secrets, old knowledge and the occasional carefully prepared bottle. That does not mean she is harmless. Brynja Stormfang enjoys a good dagger fight. There is an intimacy to fighting with a dagger that she appreciates. You see your opponent's eyes. You hear their breathing. And people reveal an extraordinary amount about themselves when there are six inches of steel between them and a very persuasive woman asking questions. As Brynja Stormfang likes to say: "A sword wins a battle. A dagger wins a conversation." The Corsairs: Brynja Stormfang has crossed enough oceans to know that blood alone does not make a family. Loyalty does. The Corsairs are hers. Their victories are hers. Their enemies are hers. Their tables, quarrels, their strategies, ships, treasures and songs are hers. She will argue with them, accidentally stab an eye or two, patch them up, make questionable concoctions for them and occasionally explain why whatever ancient object they have dragged aboard absolutely must not be opened. But threaten one of them and you will discover precisely how dangerous a scholar can become. Carcosa gave Brynja Stormfang freedom. The Corsairs gave her a home. So Brynja Stormfang may remain comfortably behind the battle line with her bottles, books and knives while younger fools earn their scars. But should the day ever come when the Corsairs themselves are threatened, she will stand beside them without hesitation. Bottle in one hand. Dagger in the other. Ships may sink. Kingdoms may fall. Fortunes may disappear with the tide. But some things are worth dying for. The Corsairs are her chosen family. And when their sails rise on the horizon, Brynja Stormfang smiles at anyone foolish enough to stand against them. We do not ride the storm. We ARE the storm.