Sveirja is a woman of massive proportions, standing at 21 hands and full of pure muscle. Her frame is stocky, musculature wrapping around a solid skeleton and forming one massive creature. Her body is cloaked in a pelt of buckskin coloration, the color so rich it almost appears as though she is made of pure brass. Black coats her legs as if she had dipped them in vats of ink. Fur trailing down in a feathering pattern along her hooves. Her muzzle is darkened with this same inky coloration. A large spiraling horn decorates her head, it claiming the same coloration that her body is coated in. Her mane and tail tumble downwards in long tresses like a blank night sky. They are full of volume and are quite silky when she has time to groom herself. Her eyes are the only difference in this two toned coloration of hers. They are a molten gold, like the most precious of metals. If one weren't careful they would think that they could burn themselves upon her stare alone.
Sveirja was born to a small band of horses consisting of an entire group of female warriors. She does not know the nature of her birth nor does she care to know, they were her family and her family they will remain. She was the fifth member of the traveling warriors. They were not swords for hire nor were they a band of vagabonds that pillaged whatever they could. They were nomads, foraging for food and training each other in the old ways. They spoke kindly to one an other and to them Sveirja was their communal child.
Sveirja grew to love the female form and the power it could possess. She strove to be as powerful as she could, surprising all with her speed and size. Her familiar Svagabi joined her upon her travels with the group. They both having a severe love hate relationship with one another. She knew her time was coming, childhood soon leaving her in a fleeting moment. A choice would have to be made, one that would most certainly dictate her future. It was not going to be easy nor would it be something she would enjoy.
They had called her to the clearing, the eldest coming fourth with her eyes of wisdom and strategy. No one spoke, all listening to the one considered the wisest. She spoke of the meeting, granting the rights of the ancients and speaking clearly to all. Next came the strongest, the one who was covered in scars and had seen more battles than any of the rest. She spoke of the strength, of her pride, and encouraged all to respect the choice that was to be made. Finally, came the mother, the only one of the clan that had birthed a child. She spoke of motherhood, the maiden, and that no matter what they were all to remain as part of a single family.
Sveirja came forward to make her choice, having been raised in the throes of battle and trained all her life to be a warrior her family could be proud of, it was time. Was she to leave and return with stories of her travels through death. Or to stay, help raise a new member and teach what she could. Her choice was a simple one, to leave, to make her family proud and lead the way on the battle field for others. Off she had gone, and now she arrives here to make her claim.