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Hamarith Harrand had volunteered
as researcher for the Compendium and was sent out in the Library's name to the
cold, northern lands of Cyhalloi; the east island in particular, in order to
investigate the recent, well-founded rumours of battles between the snow trolls,
the Kasumarii tribe and the mysterious Ulvur. When he had not returned after the
designated time he had planned to spend on his research (that is several years),
a scout party of volunteers was sent on an expedition to discover what might
have happened to him. All of the Cyhalloian locals kept silent about him, but
after hours of persuasion, intimidation and various forms of bribes these
half-torn, weathered pages of Haramith's journal were finally recovered. We have
managed to separate what he wrote about the daily happenings from the actual
records of ulvurian myth. These records are obviously not complete, and several
parts are missing still, but a basic flow is evident, and with things related to
both our own and the elven mythologies. Thus, we have done our best to integrate
the already evident myths concerning the ulvur with what Haramith has written,
and hope that we could manage to fill most of the gaps. We should also mention
that these writings is based on tales from the ulvur's own point of view, and
thus they should not be taken as actual facts.
Chapter I:
Of The Beginning Of Things
In the beginning, there was
Ginnungarja, an infinite cloud of mist. It was everything, and yet it was
nothing; for all that surrounded it was the great Nothingness; the Never, and
yet as mist, Ginnungarja had no form; no body or shape. But at some point of
turning, there came to be two opposite elements in each end of Ginnungarja. One
was of infernal, burning fire, and the other was of the coldest of ice. As
Logor, the fire, and Nifel, the ice met, a chaotic battle between the elements
errupted, and from the clash sparks flew and were engulfed by the Nevermist;
thus giving form, body and shape to parts of the mist. And the very greatest of
the sparks gathered many other sparks to itself, and it grew into an element of
its own; almost equal to Logor and Nifel. And as of this, this new element came
between the two battling ones and brought peace to them; uniting them and itself
in a perfectly balanced trinity. The new element grew and grew into a beautiful
Ash-Tree; rooting in the fiery core that was Logor, and its crown touched the
frozen roof that was Nifel. Surrounding the Tree and floating above Logor was
now a great sea; another of the great sparks from the elemental battle. It
cooled the top of Logor's burning realm, and the fire stiffened and became the
foundations of stone that the ground has rested upon ever since.
As time passed, the stone and the Great Tree came to grew into each other;
merging and intervening, until the world as we know it at last was made whole.
Logor's fire now burned deep within the world, and the roots of the great tree,
its trunk and branches now joined the foundations of stone to keep the earth
ground firm and steady, and its crown was now the only thing visible on the
surface in the shapes of the forests, grass, bushes, mosses and all other
greenery. The stone had grown into tall mountains that touched the very breath
of Nifel; for that was what the clouds in the sky came to be called. The sea now
rested in the great hollows of the world, and broke off into various shapes that
constituted all the lakes and rivers.
Two more of the great sparks had now also risen, and these took their places in
the sky, and circled around the world in an enternal course. They were Ho-loga;
the sun, and Mon-loga; the moon, and thus the lapse of the day and the night
came into the world.
As the third element had divided and merged its body with Logor to form the
world, its great spirit had now both the great earth, the sea and all plants as
host; though still connected to Nifel, and the eternal Ginnungarja that
surrounded them all. The third element let thus its innermost essence awaken,
and it now had a spirit. It was now Rimjora; the All-Mother; the Creator; the
One Mother, and she let her great spirit split into lesser parts; yet connected
still. Her essence was in all, but even so, the new little spirits gained
essences of their own. Rimjora now took a new shape; a great, silvery wolf, and
whenever in that form she would go under the name Ulrivja; the Mother of Wolves,
and the first spirits that emerged from her own came to take the same shapes as
her, but much smaller. Eons passed, and more spirits came from Rimjora. Slowly
they grew into a multitude of beings; each with their own part to play in the
drama that was the world. Rimjora guided them, told them secrets, loved them,
and let them become one with her again, as there would contstantly awaken new
spirits to live in the world. The endless cycle was completed; birth, life and
death, and through the new spirits, the world itself lived, as they lived
through the world. And Rimjora was the one who would ever direct the whole show.
Nature had come to be.
At this point, the oldest and fairest of Rimjora's children; the wolves, were
blessed by a spark of Ginnungarja itself. Rimjora gave a small part of them
different essences. Their minds would grow, and thus they became sentient. These
new wolves felt as if they had awoken from an unearthly long sleep, and as if in
a dream they had been told by Rimjora, in her own special way, that they must
watch over her world where and when she cannot, and that they must also guide
and watch over their own kin, the wolves, the most. And so it came to be, that
the new wolves changed in shape, and their new minds became stronger and
stronger. And yet as they discovered new secrets; the arts of creating things of
their own and such, they never left Rimjora's side. They always lived and walked
close to her, both in flesh and spirit, and built up great halls of their own.
Rimjora gave them the empty shells of which the spirits now rejoined Rimjora's
essence to create their tools and houses and all the other things. They were
still as close to their wolfkin as they had ever been, but they stayed away from
the other creatures of the world, unless when hunting, and instead watched them
in secret. But there were some exceptions made for ancient, powerful spirits
that through Rimjora's essence could teach them her lores. The new wolves took a
new name to distinguish themselves from the old wolves, yet pay tribute to their
common affinity. They were now the ulvur.
Chapter II:
Of The Ulvur And The
Other Races
By the weave of the Nevermist,
time passed for countless seasons, and new beings emerged from Rimjora's womb,
and some of them were very alike the ulvur, both in appearance and mind. The
first of these new, sentient races were the alver; the Elfkind. They were fair
and wise like the ulvur, but they did not share their affanity with the wolves.
From which branch of Rimjora's ethereal tree-body these enigmatic creatures came
from none now can tell save Rimjora herself. Clear it was however, that the
alver loved and cherished their All-Mother almost as much as the ulvur
themselves. And the ulvur sensed this, and so they let a heavy part of their
divine mission of guidance for Rimjora's children concern the alver. With the
help of their old tutors of Rimjora's lore; her powerful spirit-children, the
ulvur taught the alver the arts of hunting, crafting, building and such material
business, but also the lores of Rimjora, and how to be a true part of her world.
Long the two races lived in peace together, and many of the alver joined the
ulvur in their roles as guardians of nature.
Then came the dvargar; the dwarf-kind. They were not tall, but they were strong
and proud, and they took great pleasure in the art of crafting, and the skills
of the dwarven smiths would soon surpass even those of the ulvur. The dvargar
did usually not take much time for the ulvur's teachings of the lores of
Rimjora, but they still showed respect to their All-Mother and knew what to do
and what was against Rimjora's will and needed to be avoided..
Shortly after the dwarves had come, the maner saw the light of the day. They
called themselves humans, and they were tall like the alver, but not as fair.
Their appearances were more varied, but they all still shared common traits. The
maner were fast learners, and loved especially the arts of crafting, building
and hunting. They were the first to doubt the ulvur's teachings. As their minds
became lost in the dealings of wordly matters, crafting arts and peculiar
systems of society, their bond to their All-Mother became weaker and weaker.
Some of them still took great pleasure in the lores of Rimjora, but more and
more of them cared less and less for them, and soon, some maner would forget
them completely. This concerned the ulvur and the alver, whereas the dvargar
cared more for their exchange of crafting ideas with the maner. However, the
dvargar were noble and stubborn still, and usually kept more to themselves and
their smithing arts, and the maner became more and more restless and longed to
discover and invent things which to most other races seemed highly unecessary.
The ulvur and the alver tried to desperately talk sense into both the dvargar
and the maner, but not many of the two races would listen. And as of this, the
first dark thoughts were born amongst the young races. Internal struggles, clan
wars, greed, jealousy, bloodlust and the like would torment not only the races
themselves, but also Rimjora's own world. This madness was even join by the
newer races, some of which were devious from the start, and some even true
monsters. They came to be called the tursar. Something beyond the young races'
own minds had disturbed the balance of the world and the cosmic trinity itself.
The ulvur did not know what, but they knew that not even the darkest thoughts
could have turned so many pure-hearted creatures, and especially not any
children of Rimjora, wicked in such a short time. So they made a painful
decision. They broke their spiritual oath to Rimjora, and forced themselves to
leave the guidance and peacemaking to who they trusted the most, the alver, and
left the chaos to search for answers to the dark riddles.
They did not have to search long.
Chapter III:
Of Uhrum And The War
Against The Chaos
In the darkest depths of the
Ginnungarja, a great many-coloured spark had manifested into a great void; an
abyss into the very chaos itself. This void had only grown and grown since the
spark had touched the Nevermist, and it had outgrown Rimjora's world itself a
thousandfold since long. This great chaos now seemed to surround the world and
the trinity; constantly expanding. Uhrum the ulvur called it, and from this
immense void dark spirits had emerged and they had entered Rimjora's realm
unseen and unsensed by all. Disguised as spirits of nature, they had fooled all
the races, even the ulvur. Dark thoughts and feelings existed in the little
darkness that was in every sentient creature, but the ulvur had always been able
to hold these emotions at bay. It was a struggle each and everyone of them had
to fight throughout their lives, but with peace in the world those struggles had
always been almost completely non-existing. Until now. It was the dark spirits
that had fed upon such emotions, and upon doing so even making them grow. But
Rimjora had sensed them as they had poisoned the minds of her children. Only the
ulvur were strong enough to resist, and yet there were some of them that could
hardly even do that. Rimjora gave the most powerful of the ulvur druids visions
of the great void and its dark spirits. She also showed them a great, dark
dream, in which the world would at last be consumed by Uhrum, and the trinity
would fall; all life would end, and chaos would be eternal. This was the
prophecy of the great Orminvakar; the time when the ulvur truly must save the
world from the chaos and restore its balance, both by their own hands, but also
by uniting the other races once again. Only with the combined force of the
spirits of all Rimjora's children could the chaos be driven back and banished to
the eternity of Ginnungarja, but their spirits must have found their ways back
to their All-Mother to be part of such a great force. Thus the ulvur began their
quest to re-unite the races, and to vanquish any threat to Rimjora. It was at
this time their All-Mother gave them the gifts of magic and rage. Connected to
the lapse of the moon, the ulvur learned to change their shape to their old
wolf-self and embrace the powers of Rimjora's spiritual essence, and to a
strong, bestial form in which their ferocious rage would bring them strength
beyond their wildest dreams.
But it was no easy task they sought to complete.
Chapter IV:
Of The Demon Hunt
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Picture description. The ulvur
setting out on their demon hunt.
Image by
Isilhir. |
As the ulvur returned from their
spiritual journey in their northern homelands to the elven, dwarven and human
homesteads in the south, people would cry in fear upon their coming, as if they
had forgotten their old guardians completely. Sadly, this was not far from the
truth. The ulvur had lost track of the time they spent when they were
spiritually communicating with Rimjora and learning their new abilities, and a
much longer time had passed than they had expected. In the ulvur's absence, the
dark spirits had spread over the world in an otherwordly speed, and combined
with the easily affected minds of the younger races had left trails of war and
chaos behind them. Thus, the untold darkside of their new abilities now took its
toll. The ulvur let their rage take them, and all save their instincts could
tell who was friend and who was foe. They waged a bloody battle against the dark
spirits of Uhrum, which now showed themselves in their true forms: the aggrar;
twisted, monstrous and unnatural beasts, and they were not late to return the
hostility of Rimjora's guardians.
With the one goal in their minds - to rid the
world from these demons -, the ulvur raged across the lands in a brutish
crusade; hunting down, slaying and banishing not only the demons themselves, but
also every single little creature that showed the faintest sign of being
possessed by a dark spirit. This bloody crusade came later to be called
Aggrarblot; the Demon Hunt. The other races could not tell aggrar from ulvur,
ferocious as their former guardians were in their new-found battle forms. And
so, even the oldest and wisest of the alver; still having vague memories of
their friendship with the ulvur, deemed them to be as much demons from the void
as the true, dark spirits. Their bond to nature became weak and their judgement
clouded. The ulvur sensed this, and when they had driven back most of the aggrar
if not to Uhrum, then at least to barren and remote places of the world, they
desperately tried to remind the other races of their once so strong friendships.
But none would listen. Some, mainly of the maner and the vicious, barbaric races
of the tursar even responded to the ulvur's pleadings of forgiveness and
rememberance with nothing but fire and steel. Others would just turn away
without any words.
And so the ulvur, with their tails between their legs, returned to their home to
once again watch over Rimjora's children from afar, as best as possible. And
soon, they would pass out of all knowledge to the other races, and remained only
in their history books as legends and myths. Sad as they were, the ulvur
despaired over this, but they swore to still keep their oath to their
All-Mother. But soon, the despair would fade because of another feeling, still
new to the ulvur; seductive and easily triggered, yet not so easily controlled:
rage. The alver and dvargar were deemed just lost, but when the maner and the
tursar spread over the world; forgetting more and more of the lores of Rimjora
and thus ruthlessly harvesting resources and hunting beasts in ridicolous
amounts, the anger and eventually hate towards their new, heretic ways grew
within the heart of every ulvur. They would never stoop so low that they would
consciously hunt and slay maner or tursar, but if anyone dared to cross their
borders, the ulvur would drive them out by any means necessary, and if the lost
souls even tried to hunt or harvest wood or any other resource, the judgement of
the ulvur would not be a kind one.
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