Phelan Tolusmiðr

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Sable, a furison and in chief three mullets of eight points argent.

My name is Phelan, which means Heart of the Wolf in my people's tongue. I have carried that name before and I will probably carry it again. I have walked the Wheel many times and in many ways. My people communicate well with the spirits, and our druids can see our pasts. Many times have I walked as Warrior, to claim lands and prizes for my people. I have left the cradle of our civilization as we pressed into new lands. I crossed the Alps with Bellovesus and stood near Brennos when he exacted a thousand pounds and a sword’s weight of gold from the Romans. I marched with the troops of Alexander and touched upon the vastness of the eastern sands. As the Romans pushed across the continent, I and my people slowly receded, generation upon generation. We crossed the chalk-cliffs and spread through the green forests of Albion our last great stronghold. I perished with many that marched with Boudica and later helped topple Hadrian’s Wall. We watched as the world descended upon Rome much as they had upon us – yet again the Wheel turns.

In this present life my people’s numbers and fortunes have dwindled. Some would say it was our vanity. I would say we burned brightly for so long that others grew jealous and joined forces to throw us into the darkness. But still our flame endures, if only in the far-flung corners of this world. Other nations may have risen, but our spirit lives on in us. Others of similar spirits, the Northmen, now carry their might and terror across the seas. I and many of my kinsmen trade and travel with them, and see a spark of ourselves in these young peoples. I have joined my spirit in this life to Tova Fransdottir, of the Hus Vanir-lag.

As my spirit has matured through the eons, so has my vocation. Fighting and conflict, the purview of the young, still runs hot in my veins, but I have also found joy in the crafting of things, the singing of songs, and the telling of tales. I seek to carry the life and lore of my people through each new dawning, and to hold dear that which should not fade from this existence. My new household, these spirits so young and vital, have given me the name Tolusmiðr, which means word-smith in their tongue. I hope to walk the path of Bard and teacher in this life, and tell the tales of these folk in times to come.

Phelan Squiring Ceremony

Guðrun Sæbjarnarsdottir
Una of Grimwith
Mistress Maricka Sigrunsdotter (former apprentice)
Maricka Sigrunsdotter

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