The Legend of Old Howl - Llonorir

Llonorir
The Wolf of Legend
The Cursed Wolf
Old Howl



There is legend of a colossal wolf which lingers about the forest at night, disguised as a boy in search for his mother. Those who came across this boy sought to help him, and would lead him to their village to seek refuge til daybreak. People would feed and comfort this young boy and treat him to a bed. But when the clock struck the third hour of morning, when all were asleep, the boy changed back into the wolf and would ravage and destroy the village that kept him, eating up all of those who resided within it. Not a building would be left standing. The wolf returned to the forest to await one month until he would have the opportunity to change into the young lost boy once again, so that he may fool another unfortunate traveler.

Many tales as those have shifted amongst the winds of time from house to house, striking fear into the hearts of travelers and children alike. Many unexplainable deaths or disappearances out on the trading routes which trailed through the wilderness, along with children who would become lost in the forest and never return, were blamed harshly on the legend of "Old Howl", though he went by many other names.

Truth and legend often do not see eye to eye, and this case is no different. Though plenty of the realm do not believe in the tales of this beast, it does possess one fact throughout--the one known as Old Howl does exist--and he is called Llonorir.

When people first inhabited the realm, there was great peace amongst them. All were content with what they had, and no one longed for more than what their means would require. That was until one day, when a man had discovered the power of pride. The man's name was Malicohst, and he was the first of all mankind to take what he desired without consideration for the rest of his brethren. He believed himself entitled even beyond the gods, and because the gods refused to believe that their creation of mankind would turn against them, Malicohst was able to steal the blade directly from the scabbard of Kri'Toh, god of storms, while he stood atop his mountain, watering his people's crops with a new spring rain. The blade's power surged through Malicohst and he became like his creators, mighty and all-knowing, exposed to the potentials of evil, something this realm had never seen. He returned to his village and, armed the blade of Kri'Toh and his new found enlightenment, tried to enslave his once loyal companions. Not knowing the nature of this evil, the villagers could only cower in fear and confusion. Each one died by the edge of his blade.

And so evil was born.

The gods knew that Malicohst would only continue to grow stronger and eradicate all human life in the realm. They worried for their own thrones, for Malicohst became so hateful. Together the gods created a creature that would be sent to reside in the realm of mankind. He was to be given great power and his life would continue always. This creature was Llonorir.

Llonorir was charged with the task of preserving human life at all costs. Each year for over three centuries, Malicohst would try to conquer mankind, and each year Llonorir was there to stop him. Not one human lost their life to Malicohst while The Wolf of Legend walked the realm. Cursing the gods, Malicohst sacrificed himself with his own blade, his hatred for mankind growing so powerful that he would even forfeit his own life to destroy them. With his death, all of the evil within his soul was unleashed upon the realm, bringing about nine years of raging storms and terrible droughts. Many died as a result, and many changed within their hearts, turning on each other to kill, steal, and terrorize in many forms.

Llonorir stood before Malicohst just before he died, and asked him, "Why do you hate them, Malicohst? What has brought you to this?"

Malicohst replied, "I have seen them. I have heard them. I have felt their hearts. They are not worthy of the lives they were given--so weak and so fickle. Because of you, I have been unable to take this realm back from the gods, but I am no longer a man anymore than you. You will watch as their hearts turn black. They know no other way than this. With my death, you, Llonorir shall live. With the last breath of my power, I curse you to walk this realm for eternity--I bind you here by your soul--so that you may watch as an outcast as these people turn their blades on one another--so that you may come to hate them as I have."

With that, Malicohst struck himself with his own divine blade, and the realm from that moment forth was changed. The gods, having been faced with the divine chaos that could only be restored by Malicohst, were forced but to watch as evil ran rampant through the lands, never to be tranquil again.

And so Llonorir, unable to be helped by the gods, was forced under such a curse that could only be conjured by the sacrifice of a god, to obey the terms of its bindings. And as time went on, mankind began blaming The Cursed Wolf for their hardships and began hating him, leaving Llonorir with nothing...

...but to watch from the darkness of the forest as those who once loved him now wished for his death.

--

Now much time has passed, and such stories have faded into legends and old wives tales. Though his names are well known, many choose not to believe, and so Llonorir looks on, hopelessness in his eyes, for though Malicohst may have died in body, his spirit lives on within the world.