Amber Cream Champagne .x. Hazel Eyes .x. Falcon Wings
Shades of gold: lightest on his body, almost ivory there; darkening along his legs, muzzle, the tips of his ears; and dark as well in his mane and tail, which both hang thick and resplendent. Though considered rather tall and lanky among his own people, he is quite small. Sleek and athletically proportioned, built for longevity and strength. His wings are short and blunt, deep golden coverts giving way to pale flight feathers - except on the right wing, where the first three primaries are black. His refined shape is well-suited to quick turns and daring aerial maneuvers. His eyes are a startling shade of greenish-gold, his bare skin lightly freckled where visible. During the cold season, most of him hides under an impressive layer of hair.

Korri is transgender. In short, he possesses sex characteristics usually associated with “female” bodies. He may not smell or look like some other characters would expect him to. He does tend to carry his wings loosely folded so as to discourage eyes wandering toward his undercarriage.


Accessories: Black Raven Pendant — Worn on a leather strap, it rests against his chest at the base of his neck. Can turn him invisible when he utters the word 'blikka'

Friendly .x. Cheerful .x. Dreamy .x. Clever .x. Ruthless
Very strong moral compass, to the detriment of all else. He will do what he deems to be right regardless of personal consequence. Firmly believes the ends justify the means(at least, when they’re his ends and his means). Nonetheless, a bright and amiable boy. Often comes across as quite cheerful and confident. Very clever. Enjoys showing off. Certain he is the best flyer in the world, and willing to prove it to anyone. He tends to be on good terms with acquaintances quite easily, but has few real friends. Not apt to give away much beyond surface-level truths about himself. As a result, he is somewhat lonely deep down, and spends much of his time dreaming about far-off places and imaginary things. Prone to losing himself in thought. A great lover of stories.

i. The Forgotten Prince
Far away from this place, forgotten by most, is a kingdom guarded by molten earth and frozen seas. It is an old land. Very old. The people there are different from the people here. Few of them leave. And those who do are forbidden from returning. The kingdom is closed; outsiders are never welcome.

It is in this kingdom the young prince was born.

His arrival in the world went unrecognized. His mother was not a queen. His father sowed seed indiscriminately. So there was no celebration on the warm night of his birth. The streets were loud with squalor and the air was close. His mother bestowed upon him a name he no longer uses.

He had a forgettable childhood, our prince. That is to say: he wishes he could forget it. When he was very young, his mother liked to distract him from their circumstances by telling him stories. But as time went on, his mother became very tired. At night, she liked to go out to the cliffs and watch the sea. One night, she left to do this and never returned. From then on, he had only her stories to remember her by.

His life may have gone on in this way, except that his grandfather died. His father, who so happened to be the crown prince himself, became king. And on the day of his father’s ascension, a prophecy was spoken: That the king would be slain by his firstborn son. This was, of course, a problem for someone with an unknown number of illegitimate children. His future murderer could have been anyone. Fortunately, his offspring had a tendency to take after him in certain ways. So he sent his guard to kill them. All of them.

The young prince was alone and unprotected, but he was also very clever. He managed to avoid detection for some time. He was still caught, eventually. And brought before the king. It is easy to say now the king should have seen him for what he was and ended this story here. But the king, like any other creature, had his weaknesses. At the end of that meeting between the two of them, father and son, our dear prince was still alive. And sworn to serve his father.


ii. The Raven
Though the prince’s life had been spared, it did not become easy. His father would never acknowledge an illegitimate mongrel as an heir. So the prince’s existence largely remained secret; however, this made him a unique asset. He became his father’s eyes among the common people. Eyes sorely needed as a long winter gave way to a pale spring. As the grasses came late. As the very old and the very young and the very weak began to die. As dissent spread throughout the kingdom.

The prince, now a spy, infiltrated a group of rogues planning to overthrow the crown. But he did not do so alone; shortly after entering his father’s service, he acquired a familiar. All members of the royal family bonded to birds at maturity; most were falcons. Our spy’s familiar was a raven. He named her after a character from one of his childhood stories, and she became the only close friend he possessed. Together, the two of them joined the rebels, claiming to be the last of the king’s illegitimate bastards, on the run for their lives. Pretending they, too, wanted to destroy the crown.

It was true enough.

The spy harbored no love for his father, and felt no gratitude that his life had been spared. Perhaps he gained the rebels’ trust so easily because he agreed with them in part. But he found he had little love for them, either — not for their ruthless methods or their growing intent to secure the crown for themselves. Of course, he kept his thoughts to himself. He learned the rebels’ secrets. He helped them to make contact with the last of their kingdom’s old enemies, the Ísbirnir, ice bears who had been driven to the very far reaches of the north, and convinced the bears to fight for them. He pretended to infiltrate the palace, and gave them details on its layout and weaknesses.

He also gave detailed reports of their activities to the king.


iii. The Kingslayer
At last the day came for the rebels to make their move. Unbeknownst to them, the king’s men would be ready. But the number and method of their attack had been misrepresented in the spy’s reports. Night fell, cold and clear, and the forces met within the palace walls. Both were taken by surprise. Both were locked in deadly struggle.

The spy, having done all he promised, left the fighting behind.

He arrived in the throne room, where his father’s guards had been sent away. Where his father waited alone. It is difficult to say what exactly transpired, but the end result is this: the death of the king, the brief ascension of his firstborn son to the throne.

Then the earth split apart.

It is more difficult still to tell this part of the story. The prince, the spy, the new king, deep in the castle, only knew that suddenly the castle was trembling. That the great stones were breaking apart. That the work of their gods, given to them generations ago, before memory, was beginning to crumble. He laughed bitterly, thinking even his deities had no use for him.

And just narrowly, he escaped.


iv. The Rift
What occurred between the fall of his kingdom and the yawning mouth of the Portal was lost to the young kingslayer’s memory. He knew he was in danger. He knew he was looking for someone. He knew he could never go home.

Father: Gulltór (classic champagne)
Mother: Hvita (cremello)
Numerous half-siblings, deceased

His people are particularly long-lived and hardy. As a result, he would still be considered quite young in his homeland, and he conducts himself accordingly.

Has a pinboard.

signature pixel base by bronzehalo