Bjorg Isasdatatter


Bjorg is a Human Bard from the town of Vastithorp.

After framing Asmund for murder, causing an orc raid, and sacrificing creatures to the sea,

She left Ara Goldeneyes and Oscar, to head north in search of a new home


From a young age, Bjørg knew exactly what she was going to be – famous. It wasn’t simply that she wanted to be, but she was going to be famous. One way or another.
Born to a simple man, and a simple woman – both of which were fisher folk – Bjørg was tired of the mundane. Her parents had wanted ever so much for her to follow in their footsteps and fish, but Bjørg hated the idea of smelling like fish.
She hated their house, she hated the taste, she hated anything to do with fish. She wanted to be the centre of attention – with secret admirers who’d shower her with gifts. She wanted to live in a castle with all expenses paid for. She wanted to be a hero.
She’d forever had an interest in the idea of legendary heroes, such as Hrothgar, the dwarf who’d raised the great ice wall to the north, saving everyone from certain death at the hands of the frost giants, but it wasn’t until she really started talking to the travellers that passed through Vastithorp that she realised travelling on its own sounded like a lot of hard work and effort, physical exertion, and getting muddy and dirty. A hero would be ten times as tired, and twenty times as filthy. She had no interest in getting her clothes soiled.
But she realised that if the folk of her town hung onto every word of a traveller’s story, then it wasn’t unreasonable to assume that people in general liked hearing stories. She certainly did – and what did people like more than stories? Something they could dance to.
She set about writing an epic song about one of the more adventurous travellers who had passed through a number of years ago.
That’s when Gnari showed up. Gnari was the embodiment of everything Bjørg had thought she’d wanted to be. He’d saved a distant town somewhere to the south east from an undead invasion, fighting the skeletal invaders off, single-handedly.
There was only one person she could write her first epic about, and that was Gnari. She befriended him, immediately, knowing that no ego of a man his age could resist a young woman and her feminine charms.
The people of Vastithorp loved hearing Gnari’s story, and so Bjørg knew they would love her song, too. Following him around, she gathered all the details of his heroic feat, but along the way, she realised he was a useful gateway to greater things. Immediately, she set about romancing him.
The landowner’s committee governed the town, and anyone on the committee was looked after, politically. She liked the idea of influencing the town, and didn’t mind being Gnari’s eye-candy, feigning interest in him for a little while longer if it meant she got to climb the political ladder.
If she could join the landowner’s committee, then she would never have to worry about following in her parents’ footsteps and smelling like fish for the rest of her days. She could keep her nails long, her hair washed, and her clothes clean.
It wasn’t long until she had finished her epic song about Gnari’s heroic deeds in the distant town with no name. She, of course, had taken a few liberties when it came to artistic license, but Gnari seemed happy with it, and it was ready for the public.
The song was well received. It was so well received, in fact, that people stopped listening to Gnari’s telling of his own story, in favour of listening to Bjørg’s retelling in the form of song. Now that she had his fans, all she needed was his seat on the landowner’s committee, and as he was not a native to Vastithorp he would be first to be removed from the committee should a native Vastithorp dweller rise up to seize it.
A few months later, a rich, elven traveller from a distant land arrived at the shore of Vastithorp. Bjørg reckoned, if she could acquire some land from him, she could sell it on to another traveller for a large profit margin, and buy land in Vasithorp – potentially even buy Gnari’s land and entirely steal his seat on the committee.
It wasn’t hard to get the land. The traveller was putty in her hands, wrapped around her little finger. She was sure Gnari would get jealous, and tried to keep it low-key, but she wasn’t too upset with the idea of Gnari finding out that she was spending time with another man. She figured if she could play them against each other, she could acquire quite a few new things.
To her surprise, however, Gnari seemed oblivious to the matter (or possibly didn’t mind, which annoyed her to no end), and Bjørg continued on with her plan, succeeding in acquiring her land in whatever distant place the traveller was from.

She returned to Gnari’s side, falling back into the role of catering to his ego, a role she felt she had become rather adept at.

Bjorg Isasdatatter

The Midgard Saga. Nattfodd