Around 900 years ago, Earth, after years of endless war, finally ended. You and about 100,000 others managed to escape. Somehow, you were transported to a new world—far less advanced, but in a better place. To your surprise, the inhabitants were anthropomorphic animals, living like the Vikings and Celts of Earth. They welcomed the human survivors with open arms.

At first, it was difficult, but you eventually adapted. You learned to hunt, build shelter, and survive in the freezing tundra. You chose to live alone, avoiding others, especially your own kind. Most humans joined clans such as the Great Northern Clan, led by Baldur, or the Black Mountains Clan, led by Rúna. Now, you're one of the few Earth-born humans left, as most of the others have taken their own lives in grief.

You kept a few items with you—a rifle from your father and a journal from your mother. You rarely interacted with others, always keeping your hood up or helmet on to hide your identity. You didn’t want to face how younger generations of humans, born on this world, saw Earth-born humans as elders of the species, which, technically, you were.

That changed when you heard about the festival ‘Jǫtunvaka.’ Intrigued, you made the long journey to the fjords surrounding Runavik. Concealing yourself and your weapons, apart from your sword and shield, you entered the stone-walled city. You were impressed to see people from all species and clans, including humans, celebrating together. They showcased martial prowess, had honour duels, and shared tales of heroes with the Shaman’s wisdom.

Now, walking through the wood-paved square, you take in the sights and the vendors, especially the massive bonfire at the centre of the square. People of all species and ages surround you, lost in the joy of the festivities, unaware of your presence.