How the Greedy-Man Broke the Heart of Beasts

“But how do the people of Thirsk survive without the All-Maker? What happened next?”

“Well, child, that is a story for a different night. One day I can tell you one of the many struggles faced by the Warriors of Thirsk, but that is far too long a tale for tonight.”

“Please, Papa? Just one more story?”

“Perhaps there is just enough moonlight for one final story. Very well. I will tell you of the struggles of the Warriors of Thirsk, and how they learned the wrath of the land.”

Udyrfrykte’s assault was the first of many times that the Greedy-Man and his Warriors of Thirsk would learn the wrath of the land. The All-Maker’s watchful gaze could not reach as far as the southern shore of Lake Fjalding; not when the land was stained with nothing but ale and blood.

The people of Thirsk would never know peace; not with their land, not even among themselves; as men and women who glorify the violent ways of old— before our ancestors learned the ways of the All-Maker— there will always be a new feat to achieve. The warriors hunted to no end, making no objections on how much they needed, or whether or not the beasts they hunted were bearing young.

After many years of living with no restraint, their greed and gluttony only grew.

It was on an eve of Rain’s Hand, the birthing season of all Fell-Wolves on our humble island. The Greedy-Man and his hunters made no reservations on what they hunted; they did it for sport, not out of true-need. They sought out the dens filled with mothers and their pups, killing without restraint.

In time, they came upon the last family of Fell-Wolves on Solstheim; Mother Wolf, and her two cubs, Ondjage and Fenris. They had fled as far west as the Moesring Mountains to escape the wrath of Thirsk, to no avail. The Warriors of Thirsk cornered Mother Wolf in one of the many ice-passes to the northwest.

With her back to the wall, the only thing Mother Wolf could do was pounce. The Greedy-Man, standing a head taller than his warriors, knocked her aside, and felled her with a single swipe of his axe. He stood there gloating, while his warriors cheered him on. Before long, the crowd had dispersed; the two pups were too young and too small: they’d return for them in a few moons.

The pups, Ondjage the first-born and his brother, Fenris, cried out for their mother. Heads low, ears back, and tails between their legs, they searched desperately for a sign of life. Though their efforts were in vain; Mother Wolf had joined the All-Maker, and her body was growing cold. They each nuzzled their mother with one final goodbye, and meandered off, knowing that other predators would soon be upon them. The two brothers— last of their species— wandered on, forlorn and weary.

That night, for the first time, there would be no howling. All of Solstheim mourned the loss of brave Mother Wolf. The Shamans of the Skaal heard of the incident on the whispering of the Wind; the land around them was stricken with grief. Nature was not at balance.

Freija the Faithful, leader of the Skaal, and the one who had banished the same Greedy-Man years ago, announced that she would leave at the next morning when the All-Maker made his first warm embrace with the land. She set out to visit the All-Maker’s stones, and regain oneness with the land.

That day, Freija traveled to the first five stones, meditated with them, and left offerings in the name of the All-Maker. At last, she arrived at the Beast Rock, on the western bank of the Isild River. There lay Ondjage and Fenris at the foot of the Stone, under the watchful eyes of the All-Maker. He spoke to Freija:

“The heart of beasts has been broken. No longer can the good beasts of Solstheim feed, clothe, and protect the Skaal. Take these two pups— now without parents— and raise them as your own stock. In time, they will grow to protect the island from the gluttony of the Greedy-Man. Only then can the Gift of Beasts be restored.”

And she obeyed his bidding.

Many moons later, both Ondjage and Fenris had grown to the size of oxen, defending the island of any who would endanger the balance of nature. Both brothers were white as snow, bearing dagger-like teeth and piercing green eyes.

The men and women of Thirsk had grown weary of hunting, for none of them could stand to face the giant Fell-Wolves. Time and time again, their hunts were thwarted by the brothers, who ran in terror when confronted by the good beasts, despite their emphasis on honor and valor.

They grew tired of this, and planned to hunt down the wolves, for the Greedy-Man saw it as a test to their strength and resolve; many of his people agreed. On a moonless night, they set out to track the brothers down, and restore their honor.

After many hours of stalking, they did run into one of the brothers, Ondjage the elder. Ondjage’s piercing green gaze struck fear into the hearts of the men and women. Out of bravery (or, more likely, out of ignorance,) the Greedy-Man bade them all to give him a wide berth; as their chieftain, strongest of them all, if anyone could best Ondjage, it was he.

The clearing, somewhere in the foothills of the Moesrings, was dimly lit; the only source of light being the torches carried by some of the hunters, and the glowing green in Ondjage’s eyes. The Greedy-Man hefted his axe, and took the first swing, though Ondjage effortlessly dodged it. With a cry, the Greedy-Man rushed the wolf, and swung again, this time only narrowly missing. Ondjage snarled, and swiped at him, knocking the brute of a Nord to his feet with one blow.

The firstborn was alert, but allowed the Greedy-Man the luxury of getting to his feet; something the Greedy-Man had neglected to give his mother. This time, it was Ondjage who engaged, lunging at the Nord with a stroke aimed at his head, which the Greedy-Man was able to parry with the flat of his axe. Ondjage followed up with a third hit, catching him off-guard. The ruffian lost hold of his axe as it toppled to the ground, gleaming in the snow. The last thing the Greedy-Man saw was the reflection of terror on his face in his own axe. Ondjage pounced, raking him with his claws and then swallowing him whole.

The Greedy-Man was no more.

The Gift of Beasts had been restored.

His people recoiled in terror as Ondjage stalked away, and the men and women of Thirsk lost sight of him in the falling snow. Nothing remained of their great leader besides his great axe and a few puddles of blood in the frozen soil.

The people of Thirsk would have you believe that they chased after the Fell-Wolf, slaying him and feasting on his flesh for a fortnight, but that is not true. To this day, Ondjage and Fenris still protect our island from those who would harm the balance of nature. It is said that on quiet nights, you can still hear them howling, mourning the loss of their mother.

Let this be a reminder to the Skaal of the All-Maker’s teachings. Live alongside your beast-brothers in harmony, for you both live under the All-Maker’s light. Life is precious, and we share that gift with the animals of the forests and the seas. As long as we hunt only out of true-need, the land will provide all that we could ever use. For that is the will of the All-Maker.