Njorvaldr

Njorvaldr is the ancient realm of Men, where mettle and strength carve lives into the land and valor is the fire that keeps its children warm. It is here, in the bosom of the Jorgryde Woodlands, the Mountains of Magni, and the tundras beyond, that the race of Men first rose from the soil. It is here that Men first learned the toughness of stone, the tenacity of the trees, the bitterness of the wind, and the embrace of the sea, where Man was born and shall always return. It is here Men learned the might along the edge of blades, deep in the valleys of fjords, where foe crashed against foe and iron sang with the cries of the fallen. It is here the arcanum of wild magics were opened to the naken sun, and sewed chaos throughout the land, and was thus cast back into the dark reaches of oblivion for fear of its rancor.

History
The Clan Age

The ancient times of Njorvaldr are oft the tales of intrigue told to nightly travelers at the fire's side or human children either ignorant of their ancestry or forgetful of their place. Indeed, Njorvaldr's past is dark, and disturbing to most, but, despite the terrors of that eldritch time of blood spilt and fel magics unbound, the native north-folk do their best not to forget its lessons.

The earliest days of rememberance are of the clans. As early clan-folk, the Men of Njorvaldr vaguely discovered the benefits of flocking together after an age of nomadic wandering, and thusly settled in the hills, the woodlands, on the low marches of mountains, among the trees and on the plains of the central taiga, and even in the tundra of the northern coast. Bound to such a powerful landscape, it's no wonder the Men of Njorvaldr worshipped the forces of nature that defined the region, not unlike the early druidic Elves across the sea. From even before the Clan Age, names were given to the aspects of nature; the Masters Ragnall, who spurned the sea and kept it from swallowing the shore, who tore the mountains from the deep crusts of the earth, who opened the air to chill and commanded the icy crag of the lonesome tundra. Most recent of the Njorvaldr Divinities, finding its origin sometime during the Clan Age, is the God of Wind and Stories, Master of records and fates.

The mysteries of magic were revealed during this Nomadic Period, but few posessed the sheer willpower and undestanding of the gods to command it, granting the Clans only a handful of Gothar (holy men) at any given time. Such men could be found as wizened healers and aids to clan chieftans, occasionally taking the burdens of leadership themselves. Under the keen eyes of their gods, the Men of Njorvaldr migrated throughout the land and found their homes in the bosom of the Divines' mastery, but, as befitting the Njorvaldr Pantheon, at steep costs.

The achievement of settlement was hardwon, as the untamed wilderness of the land was fierce with monsters and wild beasts which held to the lands like the Mountains of Magni. As the Men of Njorvaldr came to find, their gods favored naught but the one in posession of greater will, and so the Clans found themselves beset on all sides by danger and destruction. Ogres stomped along the mountaintops and hoarded in the caverns that riddled the stoney march, as Kobolds and Cyclopes kept the feet of the mountains at forests' edge with their mines and hovels. Harpies sang and cackled along the coasts and watched over the roads, within the veil of the treetops, as Trolls congregated in the deeps of the wood and hunched along the edge of lakes. The dangers were manyfold, but cheif among them was the Wolfwere, hunter incarnate and original keeper of the wilderness.

While the horror of the Wolfwere was known in the cautious whispering of the clan-folk, it wasn't until the clans settled that the Wolfwere's malevolence was revealed. In the eastern reaches of what is now the Jorgryde Woodlands, it is said that Clan Garik met its end overnight. Legend speaks that the gates of their heavy palisades were found open, the walls undamaged, and the people slaughtered and half-devoured inside their homes with naught a weapon in the hands of the warrior-hunters. Clan Garik was host to some of the mightiest archers and axewielders of the early Men, and with this news, the other clans were steeped in paranoia. Gates were kept shut, and the hunts were quickened for fear of bizarre death in the forest. It is said that, within a week of hearing the news of Clan Garik, the howling of wolves came to the woods outside of Clan Hjalmar's palisades, entrenched at the base of a mountain where kobolds once held a mine. Envigorated by the potential for a great and bountiful hunt, Chieftan Hjalmar set out with with six of the Clan's best huntsman and a handful of newbloods, three of which returned with the Chieftan's torn carcass the following morn.

Grief-stricken and utterly shocked by the state of the Chieftan's body, the people of Clan Hjalmar were more concerned with funereal preperations than questioning the returning huntsman, who, without much effort, were able to turn away most inquiry. The Clan heard the animals in the wood. Surely, the Chieftan and his party found too great a hunt, and that was that. However, Haward, the Clan's Gothi, was unsure of the handsome and charismatic trio that returned. He could not place their faces, whose keen features were more than notable, and he knew his people well. It wasn't until the burning of Hjalmar's body that he was sure.

With the Chieftan's body lain atop the pyre, Haward gave his ceremony, which was blunt, unflattering, and truthful of Hjalmar's character. As would befit any funeral of the Njorvaldr people. When the flames burned white and tall, the three huntsman began their dirge; funereal singing which, at the time, was only practiced by Clan Hall, of the coast, and Keepers of the Honored Fallen. It is said that the people attending the funeral were stricken weak and languorous, even the axemen and bowmen. Gothi Haward was merely offended, having resisted the effects of the strange and nefarious song. He called for the warriors to gather arms, and for the rest to retreat into the mine, while he dealt with the intruders, now wise to their gambit. It was then that their forms shifted to something hideous and feral; half man, half wolf. The Wolfwere.

All that is known of the battle comes from the Clan's stories, orginating in the memories of those who fled and the warriors who returned to stand their ground. It is said that a wall of fire cut the monsters off from their prey, and that a great plume of smoke burst forth from the funeral pyre, on which Haward was seen standing prior. While the people retreated into the mine for safety, the stone walls reverberated with the echo of the monsters' roars. All that could be seen was the smoke, and all that could be heard was the Wolfweres' gnashing, until waves of flame rolled deep, within the smoke. When the screen finally dissipated, Haward was found thrusting Hjalmar's funereal spear into the heart of the only Wolfwere standing, among the bodies of several dead and wounded soldiers who stood their ground in aid of the Gothi.

That day saw to the eventual unity of the clans. Haward took up the mantle of Chieftan of Clan Hjalmar, the first and only Gothi to do so in any clan, and began the Hjalmar migration across the Woodlands to warn all remaining clans of the Wolfwere threat, and to gather the clans for a moot at Clan Hall. Haward implored that current settlements be abandoned, in favor of a singular community addressing the issue as a whole. Leaving any amount of people behind would dramatically increase the risk of their slaughter, and reduce the effectiveness of the Clans' response. Of course, not all of the clans abided Haward's word, and those who stayed behind swiftly met a brutal end.

However, those who considered Haward's warning seriously, met with him and Clan Hjalmar at Clan Hall, only to find the coastal home destroyed as well. The moot was short lived. Unity was necessary for the survival of the clans. With that, the collective clans combined their efforts to rebuild Clan Hall's claim, eventually founding the great mound by the sea to house many of the honored dead, which would later come to be known as Lokir. As the united settlement rose, it's back to the see and its sights on the woodlands, Haward communed with the last of the remaining Gothar. The conclusion of this meeting saw the founding of the Egil'Dogur, or the Sword of Day; the sacred order of Gothar and chosen warriors that spear-headed the Blood Hunt, so named for the cleansing of the greater Jorgryde Woodlands and the surrounding areas. Finally, with the combined efforts of the clans, under the leadership of Haward and his Egil'Dogur, the Wolfwere's were systematically hunted and destroyed, thus securing a place for the peoples of Njorvaldr.

The Age of True-Magic

The Blood Hunt was a decade long effort, seeing much death and misery upon the united Clans, who made one last expression of their nomadic roots, visiting upon the monsters of the wood with cold-wrought iron. This last migration made for the first year of the Hunt, before Haward would see settlement once more. The Clans turned their sights to the Mountains, where Clan Magni refused Haward's warning a year prior, looking for a permanant, defensible position to hunt from. Expecting the worst of sights, the remaining people of Njorvaldr climbed the cold march of stone, only to find Clan Magni still standing. And the Clans' passage into the shelter of the mountaintop was refused.

It was under the counsel of the Gothi Rannulfr that Chieftan Magni deny Haward's entry, eventually making the denial himself when Haward pressed. Rannulfr cited the fundamental insult to the Masters' teachings Haward's migration displayed, commanding that the Clans fend for themselves amongst the apparent dangers of the Woodlands. It was then realized that Clan Magni had seen little of the Wolfwere threat themselves, having the mountain itself provide a natural barrier against the wood-walking monsters.Yet, even the stories of the ill-fated and respected Clan Hall did not sway the Chieftan or Rannulfr. Ignoring Clan Magni's denial of shelter, Haward and the Clans stubbornly entrenched themselves in the mountainside, some in caves, and others using the hides of Wolfweres to line their tents. In the bitter week that followed, outside Clan Magni's stone walls, the horror of the Wolfwere met the mountain Clan.

It was in the night that a keen howling woke the tired people of the united Clans, and it was their panic that alerted the axemen of Clan Magni. A horde of wolves set upon the helpless folk unfit for battle while large Wolfweres charged for the tougher sorts. The warriors of Clan Magni were helpless with awe and confusion at the reckless assault in the night, but Haward and his Egil'Dogur would have none of it. However, while their explosive reply was swift, in their limited space, many innocents were wounded, if not killed outright. The nature of the attack was also, itself, ominous. It is said that the Wolfweres had been stalking the migrant Clans, gathering to hunt in kind. This would be the first wave to come if nothing were done.

Finally, the news of the nightly ambush moved Chieftan Magni enough to allow Haward and his people passage into the Clan grounds, for, while they had brought the threat to his gates, he knew now that it would be weak to allow such a nightmare continue unchecked, especially in his territory. With that, Gothi Rannulfr begrudgingly joined Haward's council, eventually acknowledging the Wolfwere threat after several more nights of assaults and baying in the distance.

As time passed, Haward's men would aid in hunting and protecting the gates, while the Gothi would gather to discuss how best to continue the hunt of the Wolfwere's. The Gothi themselves, while powerful, were too few to easily wipe the monsters out with their Masters' favor alone. On a night when Haward noticed Rannuflr's absence at the walls during an assault, it was reavealed to him the next step in destroying the beasts. Rannulfr had locked himself away that night, on the verge of discovery, when Haward came to him. However, it is unknown exactly what happened that night between the two Gothar, outside of speculation. Regardless, the coming day saw the early construction of the towers. From that point on, Rannulfr was seldom seen or heard from until the towers were complete.