In the following documents, the history of the mysterious wolf-men race of the ulvur (up to the current day) will be presented. As these documents are based on the journal entries and various scribblings of a missing chronicler of the Compendium, Hamarith Harrand, they are not to be taken as official documents and are currently open for discussion. They are however very detailed, and the chronicler in question was during his time in the Library's service a clearly sane and highly intellectual young man, so perhaps there is in fact some sort of truth in the extraordinary tales he recounts.



Journal entry, Dead Tree 9th, 1657

f it had not been for the hospitality of the kind Cyhallrhim elves, we would have been lost. They also have so many wonderful tales to tell about the ulvur! It appears as if these elves have learned a good deal about the mysterious wolf-men, judging from the vast number of old legends they shared with us. I will try to write the most of these myths down in time.

As we have not seen any proof of a living ulvur at all, it saddens my heart to realize that after recovering for a couple of days here with the Cyhallrhim, we must begin our cold journey back south. With a Cyhallrhim guide it should not be any more of a nuisance than a normal two month long trek in biting, cold winter winds.

Tomorrow, the elves will show us the place where we undoubtedly will have the last chance to encounter any ulvur, but they assured me to not get my hopes up, as it is highly unlikely. But hope is all I can do. Apparently it is supposed to be some kind of ruin of and ulvur city... I think I have read some old scribblings of that mischievious Kasumarii adept, what's-her-name - Turya something... - of the Ximaxian Academy who spoke about this place, and from what I can recall she did not exactly assosciate it with any cheery faerie-woods in late spring. But then again, as a Kasumarii, she did not exactly speak of the ulvur as any more than orcs; wicked, bloodthirsty beasts. She was indeed one to talk!

-- Haramith Horrand, chronicler of the Great Library

Chapter VIII:
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.

Ulvur Scouts

View picture in full size 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.

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... on th.. run. When we c... ...t last to the cov... woods, we thought we w..., 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... 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.


Myth written by Isilhir View Profile