Hi there!
I'd like to get some things out of the way, before I get onto the actual idea. I won't take long. If you don't want to read the three points below, skip to below the (hr) line.

First of all, I don't know what I'm going to do with this- this could just be characters from the main character's village, the invaders, this could be a group roleplay, or a 1x1. I don't know- I'm up for suggestions.

Second, I'm already fleshing out the primary and main character in this as I wrote this, so I may or may not post it down below. 

Third, this is inspired from the book [url=https://www.amazon.com/Wolf-North-Book/dp/1539423441/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1491089991&sr=8-1&keywords=Wolf+of+the+North]"The Wolf of the North" by Duncan M. Hamilton.[/url] It's a really good book, and I most definitely recommend this. Like the book, this is somewhat medium-fantasy, most definitely medieval, just after the invention of crossbows.

Now, I'll get right onto the idea. First, the summary of it all, then, the post itself.

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SUMMARY:
There's a winter festival called the Wintric Festival of Jormundyr- these peoples' version of Odin. During the three-day event, a god- Ausmund the Gatekeeper- forms outside the town, and destroys the single most powerful individual in the village, Norvegr. Despite Norvegr being the most populated and powerful settlement in the northern taiga, the mad god and his horde of glowing grey spirit warriors- lost souls that rise from those they kill, or are killed by Ausmund- begin destroying the entire area, sending everyone running- including the fiercest warriors around. 

The roleplay takes place in the aftermath of this attack, while people are trying to figure out what's going on. Southerners of all types- desertfolk, junglefolk, etc.- and northerners are available to play, as are certain nature-magic creatures, given proper explanation. 

The Wintric Festival celebrates the "godlight," which is assumed to be Jormundyr's spirit in the sky- what we know as the Aurora Borealis. Because of the reclusive northerners' culture and this strange, mysterious event, many southerners come up north to experience it. Services and goods are traded for lodging and food; no money travels around the town. Northerners are very similar to the old Nords.

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Every year, the first snow marks a new season in the northern villages of Jormundyr's Peaks. These northern people mark the first melt by a similar season change. They look forward to both, every year. However, there is one night, deep in winter, that they look forward to most of all- not the arrival of Winter, and then end of the Reavers' season, but the one day the skies are blessed with Jormundyr's presence, a great myriad of light and colors that flash all across the sky in blues and greens. Known to the southerns as both the Godlight and as the Aurora Borealis, it is a lightshow of beauty that draws in travelers and wanderers from all over the world. 

In the deep of winter, halfway between the first snow to the first melt, is the Wintric Festival in the prosperous, large village of Dalr Norvegrheim. Home to the largest concentrated population of northlanders, this is one of the few places that has the farms, cattle, and land to easily have enough food for winter, even in bad seasons. Their warriors are the most numerous, and make one of the longest and hardest journeys to become one- when cattle raiders, Reavers, attack, they are more often than not pushed back. Neighboring villages rarely manage to nick cattle to help their own way through winter, and any northlander village wants Norvegr's aid in battle. 

It's also one of the few places that welcomes Southerners enough to allow them to stay a winter, provided that they have plenty of goods or services to trade, and has one of the greatest views of Jormundyr's Spirit in the sky. And so, every midwinter, the Wintric Festival takes place, to celebrate the great gods, the coming of a new year, and of each other. 

The Wintric Festival begins at midday just before the night Jormundyr's Spirit begins appearing in the night sky, and continues on for three days and three nights. 

It was two days into the yearly Wintric Festival when something abnormal happened. The blue-green godlights, the spirit of Jormundyr, flashed red, once. A moment afterwards, the sky lit up in an almighty burst of sunfire, as a thick bolt of lightning struck not a quarter kilometer from the main gates of Norvegr. 

And out of the small, steaming, muddy crater from the flash-melted snow, there stood a figure, thirteen feet tall, a soft golden glow about him, tinged red. Sea-green skin stretched taunt over donkey-like legs and a very human upper body, the half-man stared down at the revelry in the village, just over the wooden palisade walls. Chainmail, with underlying black leather, armor covered his upper body, while nothing but a somewhat short chainmail skirt covered the upper legs. Eyes that shone like the sun peered out of a heavy, dark brow that bore surprisingly normal, black eyebrows. A perfectly bald head was marred only by a single pair of dragon-like horns growing behind his ears, crooked and long.

The gates were open; there were some number of people standing at the entrance of the gate, who now stared at the figure in awe and fear. 

The cloven-hooved god took several steps to the village gate, wicked claws sprouting from the figure's dragon-like four-digit hands, and the god barred his teeth, revealing wolf-like canines. 

"You... celebrate. All you celebrate, you do..." hissed the beast. "What do you care for Jooormundyr. What do you care for the rest of his underlings. What do you care for his [i]GATEKEEPERS.[/i]" 

The giant beast hissed, staring up at the sky and the floating, flying, hovering lights above. 

It paid no attention the arrival of warriors; all fair-haired natives of the village, led by one slightly shorter, but nonetheless intimidating and fierce blonde female, a spear in hand. The closest standing to her looked to be a boy, no older than fifteen, but wielding a battleaxe as easily as the seasoned warrior behind him. 

These warriors, unlike the foreigners that were around them, silently gaped at the beast. It matched the descriptions of the Gatekeeper perfectly- the minor god Jormundyr has guarding the gates to the northerners' equivalent to heaven, hell, and every realm otherwise. 

The leading female warrior also noted that the Gatekeeper was wearing battle armor, not the traditional robes that they knew Gatekeepers wore. So, readying weapons, she waited for her flanking youngling to speak.

And so he did: "I am Jormundyr's Chosen, and as the one bearing his great Gift-"

With a snarl, the Gatekeeper shot a lance of godlight, just the same hues as those above them, at the boy. In an instant, he had exploded into a giant mass of gore. The one person, even as a child, that could match almost every single warrior in the village, the one person that had the Gift of Berserk, was destroyed in an instant.

"I am Ausmund! The Gatekeeper! And I have decreed you all to be exiled, for your souls to wander for eternity!"

And without further ado, the creature charged. Warriors scattered out of the way, unwilling to meet the beast in a headlong charge, as the mad god smashed his way through the wooden palisade walls as if they were nothing but twigs. Three houses were trampled and demolished before the warriors were back on their feet, ten people already dead.

Before anyone could muster even a halfway proper reaction to the sudden violence, the eleven people that had died thus far- most of them in pieces- had greyish, transparent glows around them. As warriors, revelers, and common folk recovered from the initial violence, the eleven spirits of the dead drew wispy swords and axes, climbed to their feet, and charged.

With another roar that sent out a sonic [i]boom[/i], warriors and townfolk alike broke and ran, finding any way possible to leave the growing horde of gray, ethereal spirit soldiers and the mad god that controlled them.

With a godly fear in her heart, the First Warrior of the village flees with a few of her warriors, driven away by the Gatekeepers' power. As the spell leaves her, she begins to recover, and search for survivors. In the middle of winter, she knows that people must band together, and find help.

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Let me know what you think!
Sorry if that was longer than you expected or wanted- it all just started pouring out!