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Isaac Vakarian II

PLAYED BY: Jared Garske

CHARACTER NAME: Isaac Vakarian II

GENDER: Male

CLASS: Cleric

AGE: 19

RACE: Human

HAIR: Brown

EYES: Green

OCCUPATION: Field Medic. Keeping others patched up until they can receive proper healing and care.

KNOWN SKILLS: Training in one-handed swords, basic divine magic, first aid, and knowledge of anatomy.

BIRTHPLACE: The continent of Faedrun.

APPEARANCE: Long hair, full facial hair (occasionally trimmed), and wears large, baggy clothes for freedom of movement. Adds leather armor over a gambeson when out in the field.

NOTABLE TRAITS: Craves knowledge as to anything involving the undead, wanting to understand how they work and why they exist.

BIO / BACKGROUND HISTORY:

“To enter Death’s domain means the end of us. But where we end, something far more ghastly and horrendous rises to take our place. Spare any and all who meet this fate from dragging the living down with them, and bringing about The Second Fall…”

The man who raised me, Isaac Vakarian I, always stressed that the Undead are a burden, a plague, an epidemic which must one day be eradicated forever, and hopefully soon. While not my father by blood, this man treated me as any would their first born. My true parents were lost to hordes on Faedrun, leaving me in his care for the new colony of Newhope. Being a doctor and surgeon by profession, he passed on what knowledge he could to me before his passing in 259. While not fully trained, I had enough skills to continue giving aid to those who needed it. My true purpose though, is to come and understand that which my father feared. To find the way to end the undead once and for all, and I couldn’t do that by merely staying in Newhope.

At the mere age of 12, I sold what possessions that weren’t vital to raise enough capital to travel across Mardrun, practicing my trade and learning what I could about the Undead from those few who fought them in Faedrun and lived to tell their tales. I toured with caravans, merchants, and mercenaries, offering my services as payment. It was from one particular band of warriors, that a man I simply knew as Revan, taught me how to properly wield a sword that I may defend myself. It was also from Revan that I became blessed with the knowledge of Ulfkell the Battle Father. While every man and woman should have the strength to savor their lives, we’re not infallible. Having one’s strength and Ulfkell’s blessings, we have the potential to save all.

With that being the case, I’ve decided to journey to the northern-most borders of civilization, to the Dirge Swamp. I’ve heard of the campaigns that the Ulven and other warriors wage against the Mordok to capture new territory. I’ve discovered everything that I can feasibly through the stories of others. Short of returning to Faedrun, this is the best chance that I have of discovering why. Why do we return from the dead? Why is something less than human? Why now? What changed in the past century that has led us to this land? To this fate? Hopefully the answers I seek lie in the Swamp or The Outlands further north. By Ulfkell, I’ll find the truth, or die pursuing our salvation.

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Yeruvonna Convallaria

Yeruvonna (Vonna) Convallaria

Played By: Basia Patten

Gender: Female

Age: 37

Race: Serous Syndar

Class: Rogue

Birthplace: Lairthuduil

Hair: Blond

Eyes: Blue

Notable Traits: 5’10”, Short braided hair, spiky in the back. Kind inquisitive eyes. Small scar above upper lip on her right side.

Known Skills: Unknown

Connections: Ravens

All she knew was nothing.

All she knew were the lands of New Aldoria now. She was forbidden to speak of much of her life, her home: the beautiful fields of pristine Lairthuduil. There, she knew herbs; the plants were fascinating and intriguing. She used to spend a lot of her spare time in the fields; observing flowers, reading books, and just spectating the world around her. Back home she was often left alone with her studies, completely content with her surroundings and her life. Those memories paled in comparison to what she had now: New Aldoria and Mardrun.

Her commune was one of the first ones brought in to explore the new world under the Aldorian banner. They brought her to Mardrun during a warm summer in the year 256. The newness and the unknown dangers of this foreign land were overwhelming, as were the cultures and customs of other races and the vegetation. And the plants – the new variation of herbs and plants were overwhelming, yet fascinating to her. Everything was fascinating to her. She had so many questions; questions about her home, the new world, and how her kin will continue. She wanted to understand the surrounding world she was forced to live in. But the questions often went unanswered. They pretended it was fine. They pretended nothing needed to be done or said. The undead pushed them out and steered them towards what others called, “hope” – at least, that’s what she was told. But it was not the same. She was not the same. Her commune kept her in the dark to protect their kin, or so they said. To try to reclaim what her kind used to be – to figure out how to regain their strength and numbers. But things were changing.

She was changing.

Not much is known about her during the five long years she wandered Mardun, seeking purpose and direction. At the time she was fed up with not know what the future held. She seldom speaks of that experience, the miles walked on foot no matter the weather. It was a good way to reassure her nagging thoughts that she wasn’t like the rest of her commune, or the Aldorians that saved them from complete destruction. They didn’t try to understand the unraveling thoughts that never left since her first step in Mardrun. They wouldn’t understand.

They never cared. Caring was almost a comical feeling for her. Almost unknown. Caring was what brought her pain. But also exposed her to a world she might have never known. She wanted to understand the land. The land which brought her a piece of what one may call happiness. She met HIM sometime after the first year on her own, stumbled upon him while passing Davon’s Reach. After that they spend two very short years exploring Mardrun together. The details are a little foggy as to what exactly HE was to her. She never quite understood his customs and the way humans love, but it made her smile nonetheless. HE made her smile. HE was exactly what she needed: a companion. HE was the one who made her desire to keep exploring these new lands, he was the one who helped her find her purpose. HIS kindness, honesty, openness…

…And his death.

The pain tore at her. It made her blind and absolutely devastated for a time – made her lose the sight of her purpose. But, after a time, the memories of everything she had learned from HIM brought her comfort. He wouldn’t wallow in pain. He wouldn’t want that for me. She wants to know more. She wanted knowledge in the effort to prevent anyone else from suffering the same fate…. Prevent death. She saw herself drown. She saw her path knowing it wasn’t as simple as that… Senseless death, death for no reason, needless aggression. Those are the things that caused HIS death. The things she saw humans use in search of power, of control in this strange land – she wanted to change how things would be done, by using her words. And yet…she couldn’t do it alone. She wasn’t strong enough to do so by herself. She wanted to do more; she wanted to know everything.

In hopes of a better future, she cast aside her solitude and joined with a group who accepted her. After another two years, it felt good to be a part of something once again. The group called to her and calmed her spirit, finally letting her enjoy her life amidst the lost memories of the past. Her goal: to be a voice in hopes to change this land. The Ravens, with their political expertise and camaraderie, would help her become exactly that.

Everything was important.

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Stivanger “Stig” Roan

PLAYED BY: Andrew Schultz
CHARACTER NAME: Stivander “Stig” Roan
GENDER: Male
CLASS: Rogue
AGE: Late 20ʼs
RACE: Human
HAIR: Dusty Brown, depends on my last washing. Red, if I have made a kill recently.
EYES: Blue
OCCUPATION: I wander, watch, work for food. Sell my knowledge.
KNOWN SKILLS: Gathering information, looking menacing. Blending into a crowd when needed.
BIRTHPLACE: Faedrun
APPEARANCE: Just another human. Tall, average human.
NOTABLE TRAITS: Rather tall for a human.
RELATIONSHIPS: While working odd jobs I have come under the employment of Marrah Faile. On occasion I come in contact with Kara Skywillow at the Brown Chicken, Brown Cow.
RUMORS: Rumors? I doubt anyone even knows my name. Well, besides the ones I start myself.

BIO / BACKGROUND HISTORY: I, like most humans my age, was brought to Mardrun as a child. I have very little recollection of my childhood years in Faedrun. What I do recall is a small village, a small farm, and a forest to explore. I also recall the word Vandregon being used on occasion. I have a strong certainty this is where I came from, maybe? When the undead came, my village was rushed off in the middle of the night by armed men. We were marched for days to the coast, being constantly pursued by those rotting things. When we arrived at the coast, I was separated from my family in all the chaos and packed onto a boat. To this day I still donʼt know if my family ever made it safely to Mardrun. My journey throughout Mardrun has been one of scavenging, wandering, and honing my skills. From the very start I have had to make my own in this new land. When I was smaller, offerings from others came easier. Once I started getting larger and larger, the handouts became less and less. Luckily, manual labor was never in short supply as settlements started to pop up. I never stayed in one place long enough to settle though. With all my travels came a lesson. People tend to speak more openly when they think no one is listening. This “listening” was my education on Mardrun. Most days it was nothing more than idle gossip, but on occasion I heard bits that actually had value. Value to men with large purses and even larger ambitions. This was the beginning of my trade in information. Over the next few years my skills grew as the information flowed. Speak the right words and money just appears. As with most ventures though, when the value increases so does the hazard. Now that I had a firm grasp on the art of listening, I needed to learn how to blend with my surroundings. Hunters always knew the best way to sneak up on animals, maybe those same concepts would work with people. I spent the next couple years “shadowing” hunters, learning the trades of the wild. This came to benefit in multiple ways. I now had the skills to walk among the crowds, and survive off the land when no one was buying the information I had. The final piece is to create a web of contacts to spin my tales to. This brings my story to recent times. Where will I go next? Who will I meet? Only the future will hold those answers . . .

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Cenarae

PLAYED BY: Brittni Smith
CHARACTER NAME: Cenarae Stormjarl (Ravenscry)
GENDER: Female
CLASS: Cleric
AGE: 21Years
RACE: Human
HAIR: Mid length and Orange
EYES: Hazel
OCCUPATION: Cleric
KNOWN SKILLS: Healing, Hunting, Archery, Some Diplomacy, Divine Magic, Smithing
BIRTHPLACE: Born in a little village near the coast
APPEARANCE: Short and stocky Cenarae is no looker as she is rather ordinary. Her hair is of a bright coppery orange that is either loose or tied up with some kind of cord or ribbon, Warm hazel eyes view the world with caution. Despite Ulven style dress she is unmistakably human with her plain eyes and a lack of fangs. She also wears a raven skull on a cord around her neck.
NOTABLE TRAITS: Human among Ulven, but nothing else.
RELATIONSHIPS: Thrand Stormjarl & Fritha Stormjarl are Packmates and friends
RUMORS: Traitor to her kind (Some Humans)

BIO / BACKGROUND HISTORY:
Her history is fuzzy at best in her early years. She was born in the small fishing village called Ravencry on Faedrun where her parents, raised her in a normal almost carefree fashion for the first 6 years. Before her 6the birthday there was an evacuation order and the village, including her family fled to the ships to escape the undead blight heading their way. When they arrived the remnants of the village went to start over on the coast of Clan Nightriver’s territory. This seemed bright at first, but when they were still in tents as building were yet to be finished, raiders attacked. It was the dead of the night when screams and bright light disturbed her family. She was told to stay put but peeked out to see what was happening, the camp was burning… She turned and ran back into her tent burrowing under blankets as she screamed in fear. This was a bad idea and the fire hopped from tent to tent eventually hers caught on fire. She ran from the heat into the chaos of the camp looking for her parents. What she found scarred her for life as they were very clearly dead, but with a child’s ignorance she tried to wake them. This was another mistake as a raider picked her up by the back of her night dress and threw her into a burning pile of debris. The fire spread to her quickly and she scrambled out and ran to the only water she knew throwing herself to the ocean’s mercy.

She passed out from pain, fright and shock in to freezing water and she drifted down the coast like a corpse. When she woke she found herself tangled in seaweed and debris, she shivered and struggled to shore, once there she wandered aimlessly looking for someone to save her. Gaia must have shown her mercy as she managed to find berries and small foods to sustain her for several days. A week after her village burned she had collapsed on the ground from utter exhaustion and hunger, her whimpering cries hardly audible. A hunting party of Ulven were nearby, though and by the grace of Gaia one male heard her; Bjarke Stormjarl heard something that was not like that of an animal and left his party to find it. He came upon a small form huddled in the dirt weeping. Seeing the burns, tattered clothing and soot streaks on the child he remembered the Colum of smoke in the distance from a week prior. He took off his cloak and bundled Cenarae up holding her close and he and his party returned to their village.

Bjarke Stormjarl took the child home to his mate Rada Stormjarl and since she was a healer she tended to the young human as best they could. A long discussion was had about her fate and they decided to raise her alongside their two sons. They notified their Jarl; once it was clear Cenarae would survive. The next several years seemed to fly and the young human integrated into the family as if they had always been. As she neared her 10th year she began taking an interest in the adoptive parents work, her father a blacksmith for the village and her mother one of the healers, she spent much of her time between the two professions rather than our play fighting with her brothers as the violence they reenacted frightened her. It was on a hunting trip not long after when they were all in for a surprise, Bjarke, Cenarae, and her two brothers Nadir & Einar, had gone out when Einar went bolting off after something. A yell soon followed full of pain and fear, without hesitation Cenarae threw her bow at her other brother and ran after her errant sibling. What she found was bad, he had somehow managed not only to fall but to pierce himself through the gut on a broken tree limb sticking out of the snow. Something seemed the wash over the young human as she pulled her brother free and tore open his tunic. She packed the wound and pressed but he had already lost so much blood, she prayed to mother Gaia and the Great Wolf to heal him, so he may fight for their honor one day. To everyone surprise they responded and Einar’s wound eased to a far more minor one.

After this revelation Cenarae found out news that would have broken some, this was not her birth family, she was not an Ulven who was just taking forever to grow their fangs but that she was in fact human. She was forced to remember and understand her fear of violence and fire, but she took it with stride, “Gaia has blessed me with a pack who loves me and the chance to honor her ways regardless” was her response as she came to understand. She left her home and went to visit a Priestess of Gaia to learn what she could despite not being an Ulven and there for a daughter if Gaia. Here she stayed for some time earning her Sax in the process as she became a true woman of the pack.

As she began her 15th year she assisted where permitted with the negotiations with human colonists to aid her clan. Later when civil war broke out, despite her fears she volunteered to the front lines at assist in helping the wounded. There she met her friends Thrand & Fritha, two more Ulven from Stormjarl she had never before come across. During the following time she formed a bond of friendship but focused majority of her time on her work. Since she is not a fighter she did the most she could to aid where she could be it healing for working as a blacksmith. Now with the war over she works where she can and is needed to help restore the balance. She joined up with her friends once again for the Clan Stormjarl and New Aldorian Campaign staying back with the supplies to assist and wait for the wounded to return and be helped.

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February 267

As political representatives descended upon Semya Haven in Clan Ironmound territory, the eyes of Mardrun fell with them: the world looked to the attendees, the attendees looked to Clan Ironmound, and Clan Ironmound looked to the Wardens who had been chosen to host the meeting. The consensus was that taking the fight to the Mordok would be best, a charge led by Clans Nightriver and Grimward. Others held out hope for a more cautious approach or focusing inward instead of kicking the metaphorical hornet’s nest, but their voices were nearly drowned by the vocal support for war. More information on this event can be found here.

 

Newhope was shaken by the news of the sudden demise of Duke Al-Azarma. Well-respected among his peers and well-liked among his subjects, it was truly a tragedy that fell heavily on the hearts of colonists across Mardrun; none more so than the heart of his beloved wife, Duchess Al-Azarma. Racked by grief and utterly inconsolable, she began to withdraw from her duties to the city, which did not go unnoticed by her colleagues on the Council. As if on cue, Duchess Katherine’s long and storied feud with Grand Duke Richards came to an apparent head, with the former officially announcing her retirement from the Council. Granted her old station of Baroness and governing authority over the town of Daven’s Reach, Katherine cited “irreconcilable differences” between the Grand Duke and herself as her reason for leaving. Duchess Al-Azarma, surprising few, departed Newhope to follow Baroness Katherine in the hopes of finding a quieter life alone. Duke Montesque de la Aleine, surprising many, also chose to leave Newhope, claiming his “hands grew soft from years of desk work”. Within the span of a few weeks, the mighty Council of Ten was now the Council of Six.

 

Clans Whiteoak and Shattered Spear have formed a solid wall of warpacks to the north, bolstered by their allies to the south. These warpacks have begun patrolling the border of the Dirge Swamp in the hopes of cutting off reinforcements from the few stragglers to the south. Others have pushed into the Great Forest, harvesting what lumber and stone they can in preparation for the constructions to come. Clan Spiritclaw has continued to work day and night to expel the corruption from Ulven lands. Though their Daughters are powerful, there always seems to be another site to cleanse or one more step to take. They have recruited help from Starkhaven, though once the war in the swamp begins in full, their efforts will likely need to be redirected.

 

Reports from the Great Forest have been…disappointing to many Warleaders and chieftains among the Ulven. Skirmish raids have been taking place against settlements lining the Great Forest from a small but skilled group of Mordok supposedly led by a powerful shaman. A fast-acting corruption has been noted in a number of victims, and though casualties have been minimal, the target of the raids seems to be supplies. Local Daughters have been able to combat this corruption in most cases and have kept warriors alive, but they will be unable to devote their full effort to the war with such a danger lurking just beyond the tree line.

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January 267

The decision of the Grand Moot was a compromise between the more aggressive and more defensive options; a unified effort to neutralize the Mordok threat in the Great Forest would be the first step. Following this, defensive structures would be built and protected along the border of the Dirge Swamp by smaller settlements across Mardrun while the larger clans and colonies would send troops north to push the Mordok back further than ever before. Clan Steinjottun has taken the lead on pressing through the Great Forest, coordinating with the smaller factions to herd the Mordok into waiting ambushes like the true hunters they are. Other clans are still preparing for the massive venture ahead of them: stores are nearly emptied from Clan Goldenfield to supply the warriors; Ironmound forges have burned nonstop since the moot; Whiteoak and Shattered Spear welcome warriors from the southern clans as they prepare to march north. Warleaders have assembled and begun to discus strategy for the coming assault. Preparations like this have not been seen on Mardrun before, and without the Riverhead catalyst to unite them, Only the Great Wolf knows if they will again.

Further to the south, Clan bickering remains steady, particularly between Stormjarl and Grimward. Wounded honor and scorched homes still sting to the warriors of Clan Stormjarl, who has demanded justice ever since Clan Nightriver put forth the treaty to Clan Grimward to end the Civil War. With attention being forced northwards, however, Grimward has been more dismissive than ever of these claims, using their numbers and military to remind Clan Stormjarl of the need to focus on the Mordok, rather than territory disputes. Honor, according to Grimward’s emissaries, demands Stormjarl’s presence in the Swamp; a point Stormjarl will not publicly deny. Veiled threats have been leveled by Clan Stormjarl, though, that once the fighting to the north is finished, they will take back the land they once owned.

Excited civilians from New Aldoria continue to make the trek to Aylin’s Reach, building new lives for themselves in a land they can call their own. This has not been sitting well with many officials of Newhope, who had hoped that the acquisition of New Aldoria’s land in Nightriver territory would lead to a substantial influx of tax money to be used to continue to improve their many settlements. Now, with so many residents abandoning the city for a more autonomous life in Aylin’s Reach, tax collectors to the city have been returning relatively empty-handed and very flustered.

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Stormfang

Pack Stormfang bio

Chief: Jorvik Axehound

Priestess: Sigrid Axehound

Champion: Vilkas Stormfang

Pack: Belongs to Clan Axehound Located west of the main Axehound settlement. The settlement is closer to where The Great Forest lies. Taking much of the attitude from the main clan, Pack Stormfang is more brutish in nature. If you could not fight, you were forced to farm or do other tasks that seemed demeaning to your Ulven name. If you could not fight or could not work, you need to fend for yourself and try your best to survive. Stormfangs believed in strength more so than any other aspect. They often had contests to prove strength, battle prowess and battle capabilities. Most were not to the death but if one was caught committing a crime heinous enough to be put to trial they would be given a “Last Stand” trial. Meaning they would be given a dull blade, no armor and would be forced to fight against 2 other pack members in full battle armor. If the accused managed to land 3 cuts on each of the 2 members he was able to go free but was branded as a criminal. Pack Stormfang mainly kept to themselves and only hunted in The Great Forest while still holding on to their tradition, and hunting only what they needed to survive. It is always in respect to Gaia.

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Branwen Stormherald

Branwen Blackknife was born the third child and only daughter of the Pack Blackknife Chieftain, a moderately powerful Pack within Clan Nightriver. Her mother was a warrior of great renown, who won Chiefhood of the Pack through honor duel, and led alongside her mate, a warrior of almost equal might.

Branwen, though, was a scout. Her strengths were keen eyes and sense of smell, and great skill in interpreting birdsong. Although a fierce fighter, her methods were not those of a proud warrior, but those of an alley-scrapper. Where her parents stood tall and fought with sword, and shield, and spear, and bow, Branwen crouched low and favored knife, and fist, and fang, and thrown stone. And as such, she was a disappointment.

Living ever under the shadow of her parents and brothers, she had to journey outside of the village to gain respect, to escape the continual damning by faint praise. She found a place, for a while, guarding trade caravans. First small parties as they passed from her village to the next, then larger troupes as they traversed all through Nightriver territory. From there, she joined a large coalition of merchants who had traveled from one coast to another and over the mountains in between, and required a replacement guard for their return journey.

Branwen guarded that caravan, led by the Watchwolves, through two more trading runs without incident that summer, crossing the mountains twice each time. But the third trip came in autumn, and winter arrived early in the high mountains.

After freeing themselves from the first storm and coming to rest below the treeline, where the snow was still light, Branwen climbed the highest tree near camp to try and spot the trail ahead. From there, she saw a treacherous path ready to collapse, smelled strong winds sweeping up from the still far-away sea, tasted frozen dryness in the air, and heard only the faintest birdsong – the quiet song that went “Fly south, line your nests. Winter is here.”

The group did not want to hear her, when she told them to go to ground, to stay where they were. They all just wanted to go home. The argument lasted until the first flakes began to fall.

Two and twenty Ulven went up into the Great Wolf’s Hackles that fall – sixteen merchants and artisans, six guards and scouts. Five stayed there come spring. The first three perished in an avalanche after the first snowfall, and were left to the wild. The next two, Griogair and Edana, fell during the winter, each during their turn to hunt or gather firewood.

After returning to the lowlands they had longed for months to see, the caravan rested, and healed, and let themselves be rejuvenated by the spring rains washing over Mardrun. Some were content to stay where the ground lays flat for the rest of their days, but the rest found themselves drawn back to the mountains by the time the summer sun rode directly overhead. None moreso than Branwen, who saw most clearly that it was not the snow which had doomed them, but the earth. Snow would always fall in winter, but crumbling footpaths could be widened and shored so they would not collapse, and boulders cleared to where ice cannot break them loose from their resting place.

Their mission clear, the remaining travelers went to their Packs, to gather what assistance they could, be it food, tools, or Ulven hands. Chieftain Blackknife saw no honor in building roads. “The Great Wolf does not hear the names of children playing in the woods,” she said, and denied aid to the mission. “The Blackknife family will not have a coward bricklayer in its midst,” she said, and disowned her daughter.

When the group that would become known in a few years as Pack Coywolf came back together to begin their mission, the other survivors of the original caravan gave Branwen a new name. They called her Stormherald, to honor the day she saved all their lives simply by climbing a tree. Although the Coywolves have never had a formal Chieftain, whenever Branwen Stormherald was near, they would listen most closely to her. She always seemed to know when the weather was about to turn, and when the path was not as stable as it seemed.

For the rest of her life, Branwen pondered the need to destroy Ulven flesh before the journey to meet the Great Wolf can begin. Custom dictates that fire be the preferred means. What is done with the bones after they have been stripped of flesh – be they sealed in jars or buried in hollow hills or kept and burned again at midwinter – varies from Clan to Clan or even Pack to Pack, but to be burned seems to be the wish of all Ulven. It is accepted that being consumed by animals will do the job as well as fire, but she could not help wonder if that didn’t truly send you on your way, but merely dispersed one’s soul through the local fauna. She suspected that was why Edana and Griogair seemed to follow her wherever she went, and wondered if they would one day haunt her children, as well.

When she died, Branwen’s heirs laid her body in a clearing where the ravens gathered and the coyotes prowled, as per her wishes. She wished to test her theory, you see. If she was right, then there were far worse fates in her eyes than following the wild things for all eternity. And if she was wrong, she could only hope that the Great Wolf might have once heard the name of a childish bricklayer.

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Coywolf FAQ

History & Geography

The Coywolves were formed in the summer of 181, as an independent group whose main purpose was to build and guard a road over Mardrun’s central mountain range, known as the Great Wolf’s Hackles (see: The Coywolves).

The road built by the Coywolves in the mountains is 45 miles long as the crow flies, or roughly 60 miles on foot, and stretches from the northwestern border of Clan Nightriver territory to just north of the Clan Grimward border. A lightly encumbered War Pack could travel it in less than three days, while a trade caravan would take about a week.

What kind of structures do they build and to what style?

Eleven small outposts, varying from unoccupied single-building waystations to three- or four-building groups of dwellings, are located approximately every 5 miles along the road. These buildings are cabin- or lodge-style buildings, often made out of stone, and sometimes dug into the side of the mountain.

Two larger villages, one on either side of the range, lie near the beginning of the road. The northwestern village, consisting primarily of the Bloodskin and Hindsblood family holdings and a shared longhouse is called Edana’s Pass; the southeastern village is Griogair’s Pass, consisting primarily of the Stormherald family holdings and a central longhouse. They are named in honor of Grimward guard Edana Redscythe and Nightriver merchant Griogair* Marshwinder, who died while stranded in the mountains during the winter of 180 – the original Coywolves dedicated their mission them.

*pronounced “GRI-kuhr”

What is the population of the Coywolves?

The population varies from year to year, or even from season to season, generally belonging to one of two groups: those who are born, mated, or otherwise permanently living with the pack, and those who live with lowland packs over the winter. Around members in early summer is a reasonable population estimate, dropping to perhaps in midwinter.

Some Coywolves, after a time in the mountains, choose to later join lowland packs, but once there often continue their work by extending the road to the major trade towns of Mardrun.

How do the Coywolves relate to other Ulven?

Officially, Pack Coywolf are part of the Watchwolf Clan, and have regular contact with most other Ulven clans. Although the bulk of their members were originally from the Watchwolves and Clan Nightriver, they have had members from almost every clan on Mardrun at one point or another. While most Ulven feel the Coywolves fulfill a necessary task, and are grateful, many see the task as lacking the glory needed to face the Great Wolf. It is for this reason, especially in the early days of the pack, that more than a few members were disowned by their families when they left to join the Coywolves – a certain animosity can remain between the disowned and their former families.

Organization

Is there a particular talent, trade skill, or resource that this pack has or focuses on?

All Coywolves are expected to know some sort of trade or craft related to road-building or living in extreme terrain. Stonemasonry, carpentry, trapping/hunting, and foraging are by far the most common; blacksmithing, alchemy, and healing are highly valued, but far less frequent; storytelling and music are prized, but mostly exist as secondary skills.

What kind of leaders do they have and what is their structure and importance?

The Coywolves do not have a formal Chieftain or Priestess. Individuals will step forward into a leadership position for a specific task by merit of knowledge or skill, and there are some whose voices carry a little more weight than others, but any decision that has an effect on the entire pack is made by rough consensus of members (usually through gathering of senior family members). In the event that no consensus can be reached, but a decision must be made, then the matter is usually brought before the leader of a closely allied group (e.g., Watchwolf High Priestess, Nightriver Clanleader, etc.).

True Daughters of Gaia are quite rare among the Coywolves. Most who wish to follow that path need to leave the Pack in order to be formally trained, and very few return. Slightly more common are witches who have been informally trained, for whom magic is generally a minor secondary skill. The Coywolves have developed a strong storytelling tradition outside of traditional Lore circles (usually in the form of songs sung while working) to compensate for this shortage, as well as a tendency towards written recordkeeping.

How do they handle economy and wealth?

When the colonists introduced their coin-based trade system, the Coywolves were very quick to adopt it. Because of the narrow scope of their mission and skills, barter goods were often a burden they were not equipped to bear, so lightweight tokens of wealth allowed them to accept gifts and procure items they need without risk of accidentally becoming goatherds.

Mores & Folkways

What belief structures do the Coywolves have? (sayings, totems, rituals, superstitions)?

Most of the tradition and symbolism used by the Coywolves is descended from Watchwolf lore, with some variation according to which Clan an individual’s family came from, as well as a few additions that are semi-unique to the Coywolves.

Hospitality is the most highly prized trait among the Coywolves. If a traveler comes to the door of a Coywolf house, they are obligated to offer food, water, and a place to sleep if needed. Allowing an invited guest to come to harm in your home is one of the greatest transgressions you can commit among the Coywolves.

Are there any symbols or animals important to this pack?

Coyotes are seen as representing the cleverness and pragmatism that define the Coywolves, and are treated with respect similar to wolves. Other symbolically important animals include ravens, squirrels, and rabbits.

Is there anything considered taboo or forbidden to the Coywolves?

Some common Ulven taboos have a much lighter hold on the Coywolves, mostly for pragmatic reasons. Limited resources in the mountains has resulted in a more relaxed attitude towards taking items from the dead (particularly clothing and equipment), and risk of wildfire in summer has caused the acceptance of sky burials (leaving bodies for scavengers to eat) as a respectful funeral.

Although the Coywolves still generally observe the Ulven taboo against intentionally speaking to the dead, that belief has also decayed somewhat. Many of the founding members of the Coywolves maintained that they were haunted by the ghosts of Edana Redscythe and Griogair Marshwinder, to the point that they would describe strong intuitions as advice from their fallen companions. Whether this is a literal haunting, or an artifact of guilt is uncertain, but many Coywolves will still attribute strange noises or impulses in the pass to the ghosts.

Fighting

What kind of fighters does this pack have? Are they known for anything in particular?

The Coywolves, like all Ulven, are competent and fierce fighters, but very few are true warriors. They defend the pass from Mordok primarily by laying an extensive network of traps on either side of the road, enough to keep travelers relatively safe (from Mordok – there are stories of unfortunate folk who left the road to relieve themselves, only to end up with a bear trap clamped someplace very unpleasant).

When it comes to direct conflict, many prefer ranged weapons such as bows or slings; their melee fighters tend towards smaller swords or light fighting axes, and dual wielding is quite common. Their tactics assume being outnumbered by their foes, and as such strongly favor using speed to gain favorable terrain rather than brute force, often choosing to retreat to a point where they can gain reinforcements.

What is their stance in the Ulven Civil War?

The Coywolves are officially neutral in the Ulven Civil War. Although they are allied very closely with the Watchwolves, and generally view the colonists as guests on Mardrun (thereby deserving of protection), they do not have the military strength to fight against either side for very long and several members of the Pack have relatives within Grimward (or enemies within Nightriver). As such, their primary concern is finding a peaceful resolution, with minimal loss of life for both Ulven and Colonists. Political neutrality notwithstanding, after briefly being held by Grimward forces, the Coywolves’ road over the mountain is currently controlled by Longfang and Watchwolf warriors. The Coywolves themselves are going about their business, shoring up the road against spring floods.

Important Figures

Ylsa Stormherald (235 – present) PC
Prominent heir of one of the largest Coywolf families, she is currently living outside of the Pack, and is mated to the brother of the Watchwolf ambassador.

Ioan Hindsblood (?? – present) NPC
Leader of a Coywolf hunting party, he is currently a prisoner of war somewhere in Grimward territory.

DECEASED: Branwen Stormherald (159 – 241)
One of the original founders and de facto leaders of the Coywolves, she was the first to assume a new family name upon joining the Pack. She is also mother of the largest family within the Pack.

DECEASED: Amynedd Bloodskin (161 – 230)
One of the first Ulven to join the Coywolves after they were originally formed, father of the third largest family in the Pack.