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Chapter VIII:
Of
the Rise of the Kasumarii
As generations passed, the ulvur
eventually healed themselves and Rimjora's essence after her balance-threatening
burst of anger in Túriad Stormsorg, but the tursar, tainted by Nifelgrim,
remained tainted still, and they bred generations themselves; set out to do
evil. But under no aggrar leadership their efforts were rather futile as they
lacked the sense of gathering larger forces and tactics of battle. Some of them
managed to break free from the dark thoughts as well, and moved even more
southward and stayed away from ulvur borders. But among the southern isles,
rumoured battles between orcs and a tribe of maner caught the ulvurs' interest.
This had supposedly been going on for many years, perhaps even more than a
century, but during that time the ulvur had still been recovering from their
last great battle. They wondered if it was their old kinfolk, the ancient druid
clan of whom the blood still flowed in the veins of Ravenblade's heir, and a
group of warriors and spirit warriors led by the latest Ravenblade generation;
the proud einharjar Arnlor Korpklinga, ventured south to if possible aid the
Maner in their battle against the fell Tursar. As the great ice covered the
inner sea between the islands, travelling afoot was possible, yet if not
completely risk-free as the ice could be treacherously thin in some places. When
they came at last to the end of the ice, the old boats of the frostalver were at
their disposal.
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Picture description. A group
of ulvur scouts.
Image by
Isilhir. |
As Arnlor and his party arrived at the isle of Burdung, which the frostalver
called Dorolak, they discovered both tursar and maner settlements. Hiding in the
shadows of the woods, they scouted and inspected the area. The frostalvers'
reports were indeed true. There was an ongoing battle between the tursar and the
maner tribes, but even if Arnlor wanted to help the maner, his instincts told
him there was something odd about the whole business. His powerful spirit sensed
something foul close by; something dark and twisted. He warned his fellow ulvur
and urged them to be careful, whereupon they continued to a small maner village.
As they showed themselves to the inhabbitans, they were attacked at first, but
after some effortless overpowering without any blood spilt, the ulvur forced the
maner to listen to them. After many long hours, the maner's fear and suprise
over these strange wolf-men faded, and finally a young man stepped foward. His
name was Kasumar, and he was the first of the maner who asked the ulvur party
for help against the orcs who had tormented them since they had first came to
Vildfrost. Young a settlement was this village, and it was hard to tell its
people's true intentions. But they did not seem to show any disrespect to
nature, and the behaviour of the orcs was indeed intolerable. Arnlor put the
strange feeling he sensed within himself aside, and before the next band of orcs
would come, the village had a defense established beyond their wildest
expectations.
And so, as the orcs appeared in the outskirts of the village, they were taken by
complete suprise. From out of the nearby woods Arnlor and his ulvur came, and
the orcs could not stand a chance. The villagers cheered and thanked the ulvur
from the bottoms of their hearts. Soon the ulvur would have taught them the
basic ways of battle, and Arnlor himself also gave Kasumar advices of how to
become one with nature and use its power when fighting. After a couple of days,
Arnlor and his uvur left Burdung to return home and tell the Horád about the new
settlers. Still, Arnlor could not shake the feeling off that something was not
right. With his spiritual power as guide, he searched for the source of this
sentiment, and his loyal fellow ulvur followed him. Beyond Burdung they went,
and after several days on the sea they came at last to an island with a great
fortress, and surrounding it was what appeared to be the orcish settlement, and
the disrespect they showed to nature lit a burning anger in the ulvur's hearts.
That alone would have made Arnlor and his party attack, but they knew better to
charge blindly an entire tursar fortress, and there was also the foreboding
sensation in Arnlor's gut that held them back. Instead, they moved in the
shadows in true wolf fashion and slayed foes as silent as their feet touched the
ground. Eventually they made their way into the fortress, where they made a
horrifying discovery. The orcs were controlled by an aggrar lord, which had not
until this time taken notice of the group of Ulvur entering his island. But in
his fortress he heard and saw everything, and he immediately recognized the
threat of the ulvur's powerful spirits. One ulvur fell in the small but bloody
battle inside the fortress, but at last the orcs guarding the aggrar lord lay
dead, and Arnlor demanded with his sword pointed to the dark, man-like creature
demanding to reveal his name. But instead of telling it, the aggrar lord mumbled
something about his chosen prospects, a sword of the moon and a man of fire,
whereupon he cried aloud a piercing shriek that made each ulvur fight to keep
their conciousnesses. With that, the dark spirit was gone, but deeper inside the
hall, they later found a glowing red orb. There was something unnatural and
sinister about it, and Arnlor and his ulvur hurried out of the dense, numbing
gloom of the fortress. Once outside, they all felt better, but they soon
dismayed as they saw the gathering army of orcs surrounding them. Dazed still
from the strange event inside the fortress, the ulvur chose to flee what would
anyway had been a hard battle, and managed to make a narrow escape back to their
boat and rather row than sail as fast as possible back to their own island in
the far northeast.
Little is since then known to the ulvur of the southern happenings, but they
came to learn that the maner had conquered the orcs and the fortress was
destroyed, but that the sinister aggrar lord now had claimed dominion over the
maner tribe instead, if yet in a more passive way than Nifelgrim. And as the
ulvur once again travelled south, this time wisely enough in larger numbers,
they encountered the maner and were instantly attacked. No friendly words or
peaceful manners could even as much as make their eyes flinch. The young man,
Kasumar, appeared to be dead, and his fellow tribesmen now spoke in favour of
lords of shadow. This, along with parts of their clothes having wolf fur, made
the ulvur remember their old hatred towards the maner's deceit, and thus they
raged against the wicked, aggrar-stinking men which were no match for the strong
ulvur. But unlike the maner, they did not fight more than necessary, and soon
they returned back home, and the Horád would soon declare these new, sinister
maner who called themselves the Kasumarii an enemy of the ulvur. Still, the
ulvur would never deliberately seek out to conquer any new land, but they would
as always defend the borders of their land at all costs. However, the Kasumarii
seemed to be busy enough with the remaining orcs, and by maner tradition they
would in time not remember the ulvur as anything more than savage beasts; part
man and part wolf.
Chapter IX:
Of the Dragon Pact and
the Drasils
A little more than twenty
centuries had now passed since the discovery of the Kasumarii, and even if they
had not appeared too near the ulvurian borders, the tainted snow trolls still
frequently dared to make small onslaughts from the southern and southwestern
sides. Still, the ulvur thrieved, and life seemed to go on as it had always done
in times of peace. Trading and joyous meetings, especially on the season
festivals, with the frostalver had since long become more and more a part of the
ordinary, monthly businesses.
At this time, the new, young leader of the Frosturjol pack; Arnvidar Survelir,
travelled northwest to investigate a disturbance in Rimjora's essence, and he
was joined by his betrothed; Irdun Korpklinga, the latest generation in the
bloodline of Ravenblade. Together with a tenfold warriors and two druids they
ventured northwest to the dreadful realm of Nifelgrim's deadly ice. That
terrible land had lain in silence and secrecy ever since it was created, even if
remnats of Nifelgrim's legacy were still there. But now, old, evil things had
awoken amidst the frost of death, and in the icy gloom rose a small, yet deadly
band of new, terrible aggrar of ice, but they were not led on purpose by any
great essence like Nifelgrim. Somehow, these new aggrar had spawned through an
age of twisted evolution, and even if they still served the ultimate purpose of
Drimuxargaur, they were more independent and acted mostly of their own will. For
they had indeed another goal, at least for the time being, than to
systematically attack the ulvur. There was a battle raging in the icy realm
between the aggrar there and a band of ice dragons. The two monstrous factions
appeared to be battling over the very realm itself. The dragons had never been
quite friendly with which they saw as lesser races, but they had still ancient,
powerful spirits originated from Rimjora herself, and their deep hatred against
the aggrar was almost at the level of the ulvur themsleves. The ulvur sensed
this, and Arnvidar and Irdun did not hesitate to aid the dragons against their
common enemy. Against the ice dragons and their new allies, the aggrar were
defensless, and soon they would all be vanquished. Thus came this particular
band of ice dragons to be in debt to the ulvur, and as they sensed the uvur's
strong connection to Rimjora, they accepted this without question. After
thanking the ulvur and making the pact, the dragons settled down at last in
Nifelgrim's icy realm, and it would no longer be spoken of in dread among the
ulvur. Arnvidar would after this be known as Arnvidar Drakurulv; the One with
the Dragon Spirit [note: the name is not exactly directly translatable, since it
has multiple meanings: "ulv" can be "wolf", a "strong spirit", or simply a word
of affection, which means that the name can also mean "Dragon-friend".]. He and
his wife, Irdun Korpklinga, live still in their city Darnrunin, and together
with the druids of the northernmost city, Rimvalarún and especially its Tyrvirja
Seivild Vakardottir, they keep an ever watching eye to the northwest in hope to
see any of the magnificent ice dragons take flight on the eternal winter sky.
Shortly after the dragon pact had been made, the frostalver brought tidings of
the death of a wandering maner mage in the far south of Vildfrost. He had
apparently been ambushed by snow trolls, and they had already taken everything
of value to them. But there was one thing they had not noticed. Four strange
seeds were left in the mage's torn bag, and the frostalver had been kind enough
to bring the bag to the latest trade meeting in Kharnakaur. Vittra Korpurdil,
the tyrvirja of Kharnakaur, and her husband Angarn Fjálstride had immediately
sensed the strange essences of the seeds. No doubt connected to Rimjora, they
had glowed with life and nature's lore. Indeed, they had almost spoken to every
ulvur's spirit as if they had longed to share their secrets and deepest
thoughts. After many weeks of heavy meditating and inspection of the seeds, the
druids of the north had at last came to the conclusion that the seeds must be
planted so that their powerful essences could be completely free. And so, the
council of the Horád decided to plant a seed in the heart of each great forest
where the cities stood. In time, the seeds came to grow into what reminded the
ulvur of the terrible tree-creatures which had saved them in Túriad Stormsorg,
but these new creatures appeared to be far more friendly. They could not speak,
but with their spirits they could communicate with the ulvur as good as any
wolf, and through these strange beings Rimjora could more easily teach the
druids more lore and magic. The tree-creatures came to be known as the draser;
the Tree-Spirits, and even if they could move in their first years they would
soon lose that ability and root in their respective birthplaces. Still, they had
ever a new lore to teach the druids, and to this day they can still be found in
the hearts of the forests.
Epilogue
Journal entry, Dead Tree 22nd, 1657
We have truly much to learn of
the Cyhallrhim about keeping the cold out in such ungodly places. Yet even with
their warm clothing, the cold winds still have their claws clutched in our
weathered bodies. This is indeed no place for men. But despite the cold, the
desire to catch a glimpse of the ulvur still keeps me warm.
I have learned a good deal of Cyhallrhim legends regarding the ulvur and
recounted them in these documents, as well as comparing and intervening them
with our own myths of the wolf-folk. However, the elves keep on denying any
bonds to living ulvur, and they will not even answer my questions of whether or
not they actually do still exist.
The ruins we saw a week ago were indeed dreadful, but also fascinating. A heavy
mist covered what once had been a great forest, and in the heart of it, a great
city. But what power could have caused something like that? There were no signs
of fire or earthquake, even less of harvesting. A battle perhaps? If so, it
would have taken place a long time ago, for frozen moss and snow now covers this
land. Still, there was something dreadful, even demonic over the fallen trees...
I could have sworn that some of them looked like giant wolves, monstrous trolls
or even dragon-like beasts; frozen in the midst of battle and death. Raised as
borders around the outskirts of the fallen forest were the same kind of
runestones we encountered earlier, and after closer inspection they appeared to
indeed tell the tale of a great battle there. I will study them further and try
to recount the details.
Remnants of the last journal
entry, supposedly dated sometime in mid-Frozen Rivers:
I d... know how lo... an go...
...ey atta...ed us at nightfall, they came fr... ...f nowher... t..lls with
tai..ed, burning red ey...
The elves fought... ...aliantly, but the tr... too many, and s... ...be on th..
run. When we c... ...t last to the cov... woods, we thought we w... ...st, but
then they ca...
I saw th... ...uly s... ...em! They... ...air, so strong, and yet they fought
w... ...ciousness of wolv... ...aved us! Som... ...ad even clot... ...rmour and
weild... ...pons! The... ...ur are in... ...tient, just li... ...selves...
...ope that whoev... ...nds this w... ...w tha... .......... ...eed exi...
Here the page was torn off. This
last entry is yet to be interpreted.
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