Phyrra Silverblood

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Fighting Name: Phyrra Silverblood

Real Name: Haylee Huhmann

Race: Goblyn (Night Goblyn)

Realm: Bethel (though I often fight with Ebonhold as well)

Unit: Reapers (first trial completed at Frozen Warriors 2022.1, second trial completed at Highlands Opener 2022)

Fighting Since: Late May of 2021

Favorite Fighting Style: Sword and board

Events Attended

  • Frozen Warriors '22.1, '22.2
  • Highlands Opener '22

Lore

All her life Phyrra had been taught the history of her race. She grew to love the stories and longed to know everything about them. The other races that were involved, the strategies used in battle, the many interpretations of old goblyn history. She knew each story by heart from a young age. Eventually, Phyrra grew tired of hearing the same tales over and over. She longed for something new. Over time, she began to realize something. The other races—perhaps even other goblyns—were still out there. Above ground. Outside of the caves that had kept her tribe safe. She’d heard the stories from the hunting parties that went out from time to time; the world outside was as active as ever. So Phyrra made a decision. She was going to venture outside of the Great City of Pandemonium and learn all there was to know about the outside world, then return to share the new stories with the rest of her tribe.


The first thing Phyrra remembers about leaving the mountain is that it was very, very bright. (Seriously, how you live here? Dee lightball be so annoying!) The sun shining overhead dazzled her and left her blind for some time. Even after her eyes had adjusted, it still glared harshly in her vison, making it difficult to see where she should be walking toward. She knew she was looking for a village, an encampment, anything inhabited by the creatures of the world outside the caves. That’s where she would find the information she was looking for. (‘an maybe some food…)

It wasn’t too long after leaving Pandemonium that Phyrra encountered her first problem. The creatures above ground were far more aggressive than the ones under the mountain. She had been taught how to fight, but not in such strange conditions. One day, as she rested while waiting for the familiar dark of the night, she was attacked by a group of beasts, the likes of which she had never seen before. As she tried to stand and fight, she found her movements slowed. The undergrowth around her kept grabbing at her feet, determined to trip her up. The sun was too bright, and the unfamiliar sounds of the forest around her were overwhelming. She cried out in anger at the world, in a rage that she had never truly felt in the security of Pandemonium.

It was at that moment that a blur of color fell upon the beasts around her, slaughtering them all with ruthless efficiency. When the flurry of combat had settled, the strangest goblyn Phyrra had ever seen stood before her. They were tall—unusually so—and had very pale green skin. They turned with no more than a glance at Phyrra, sheathed their twin blades, and started picking up the beasts they had just killed.

“Why you save me, goblyn?” Phyrra asked.

“Didn’t save you. Killed them.”

It took only the time of that brief exchange for Phyrra to notice something interesting about the other goblyn. Emblazoned proudly on their clothing was the symbol of the mighty rage god Skrybitt. Pieces clicked into place in Phyrra’s mind. The fighting ability, the symbol, even the timing of their appearance being so close to such a feeling of immense rage…

“You be Khadine.” Phyrra stated. The other goblyn merely nodded as they retrieved the last of the beasts they had killed and began to walk away. (Sheesh, no need to be rood...)

“Wait!” Phyrra called after them. They paused but did not turn back. “How you do that? Fight out here?” The Khadine did not answer, and instead started walking again. Angered, Phyrra jumped up and leapt in front of them, causing them to stop once more.

“Teach me.” The Khadine merely snorted and pushed past her. (Rood!) Phyrra drew her sword and ran in front of them again. The rage she had felt toward the world was returning, directed purely at this Khadine. “Teach me!” She snarled, pointing her weapon at them. A flash of recognition crossed their face for the briefest moment. Perhaps they recognized the rage in her eyes, or perhaps they sensed that she would not back down. With a brief nod, the Khadine gestured to their side and continued walking.

“Fine. Follow me.”


Phyrra spent many moons alongside the mysterious Khadine. They were very reserved, and did not talk much, even in their frequent training sessions. Phyrra learned how to fight in the conditions of the world outside the mountain, as well as how to hunt and forage for resources in the unfamiliar terrain. (Seriously, dis place be weird.)

One day, as Phyrra awoke, she realized that the Khadine was just… gone. All of their things had vanished with them, seemingly replaced by a single blood-red feather laying where the Khadine had once been. Phyyra picked up the feather and glanced about, looking for any other sign of what may have happened. There was nothing. No tracks marred the ground around the camp the two of them had set the night before, no dent in the grass remained from where the Khadine had rested. It was as if they had never existed, as though they were nothing more than a mirage. Perhaps they were. Perhaps this quiet Khadine was nothing more than a figment of Phyrra’s imagination. Perhaps they were a vision sent by some greater power to guide her. Phyrra doesn’t know. She lives for the day that she will understand who or what that Khadine truly was. For the day that she may have the chance to meet them again—even for a moment. To know why they appeared when they did. To know their story.

---

Some time into her search for the Khadine, Phyrra stumbled upon an odd collection of many different races, all draped in the same deep purple and black. They were on some mission to attack a human settlement. Phyrra was curious as to how this small band of creatures would handle the guard that had been set around the human village. So, she followed along, stealthily trailing behind the group.

When they reached the settlement, this group of black and purple startled Phyrra with their efficiency in combat. They were able to infiltrate the settlement and headed straight for one of the internal buildings. In her focus on their movements, Phyrra did not realize that she had strayed too far from cover. The humans saw her and, likely assuming she was a part of the invading force, attacked her. She fought back and was able to hold her own against the weakened forces of the guard. In her haze of battle rage, she did not realize that the purple group had returned from their venture into the village, and she nearly attacked one of them as they approached. The draconic individual (dey be kinda dragony… wings ‘an scales, but shaped like a pinkie) made it clear that they were no threat, and invited Phyrra to leave with the group. Intrigued by the story that must have been attached to such an odd group, she agreed to go with them.

As night started to fall, the group began to make camp. Phyrra stayed along the edges of the space, wanting to stay nearby but not wanting to be too trusting of the strangers. Eventually, the draconic one gestured for her to come closer to the fire they had built and began to tell their tale.

It turned out that this group was one of warriors calling themselves “The Reapers” which meant something close to “bringers of death”. They had been after the human settlement to rescue one of their own who had been captured and nearly killed by the humans.

“You showed a lot of strength when you were fighting off the guards,” the apparent leader of the group said as they sat down next to the draconic one, “but alone, you won’t survive long. There are too many humans around here who kill monsters on sight. You need others to stand with you. If you’d like, you could join us.” (Ya right, I be goblyn, no need anyone else. …but dey knows lots that I don’t.)

Phyrra was originally hurt by this. Her goblyn instinct and natural pride told her to refuse the offer. But she thought back to the time so long ago, when the mysterious Khadine had stopped creatures from killing her. (Tho dey claimed it not to save me.) She understood what these Reapers meant. She was strong on her own, but she would stand stronger with others. She knew that in order to learn and return to her tribe, she needed to survive. So, she agreed to their proposal and donned the black and purple. She continues to fight with and learn from these Reapers, and, through many trials and tribulations, has grown to consider them as her own little tribe away from her tribe.


For now, her goal remains the same as when she set out from Pandemonium: to learn everything about this strange world so that she may one day return home with all the knowledge she gained. To strengthen her tribe with that knowledge so that they may continue to flourish. If you ever come across Phyrra, know that she is more than happy to listen to your tales, no matter how simple or grand they may be.


And don’t worry, she may be a goblyn, but so long as you still have stories to tell, she’ll let you live. (For now…)


Phyrra at her first event, Frozen Warriors 2022.1
Phyrra fighting Hakan at Highlands Opener 2022
Phyrra standing in for Sir Catgen with the EBF at Frozen Warriors 2022.2
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