|Nickname(s)||War Dog, Rira|
|Hair||Cropped short, black.|
Marked by the Winter Hunter face paint, and the Prowess body paint. A fair face and steady ice blue eyes.
Riorach Artirryn was born beneath the rock of Ben Morgh, a make-shift house forged by her father with wooden planks covering the entrance. Her mother Artisse and her father Gaelt of Connall's Valley had fled here upon the back of an old stallion by the name of Loncham. Gaelt had fought in many a war beneath the will of Crom, and began to teach his daughter the way of the conquerer, teaching her the disciplines of the blade and axe and the burn of steel against flesh. On her fifteenth birthday the young girl was called in defence of Cimmeria, leaving astride Loncham. The Vanir soon found their worst enemy as Riorach tore them down three at a time, defending her fellow Guardians and Shamans with sheer devotion and rabid energy, a blissful thrill coursing through her veins as she took down line after line of the invading savages. It was four years before she could return to the humble solace that was her home, traveling by foot due to the loss of her family's horse by the hand of a ravenous Pict and his dogs.
Her return home was not welcomed by an aging father or a new sibling, but an old haggard woman whose arms were slathered in the blood of a bruised and shredded young boy. He couldn't have been more than three, and yet he lay lifeless beneath the shaking woman's hands, his dead eyes peering skyward and his mouth ajar as though a quiet scream still echoed from his lungs. Rage filled the heart of the young conquerer as she saw the hilt of her father's shortsword buried deep within the boy's chest, this woman, her mother, had slain a young cimmerian child with the blade of her father, and for that there was no answer but death. Her mind grew numb as she cleaned her mother's blood off of her blade and re-sheathed it, looking inside for any trace of her father only to find nothing but tattered clothing and a bloodied note in her father's handwriting, listing only one thing: Aquilonia.
Numbed to her core, Riorach set out for Aquilonia, tearing her way through numerous creatures before she found herself disoriented and captured by the hand of Aquilonian slavers, tortured and demeaned by the slaver men due to her war paint and her gender. Growing angrier than before, Riorach broke free of her captors and hung their heads on a tree branch, heading to her northern homeland.
A word from a tall man with ragged hair and a long beard brought her further north than she intended to go, where in a large gathering known as a "moot" she met Clan Elkhorn. The clan was stiff at first but she soon willed to become proven. Her trial, given from her mentor Isleen, was to lead a group of her soon-to-be-kin through the depths of a temple ridden with beasts. Her expedition was successful, and after a few more rites of passage, Riorach became proven.
To be continued.