Bull-Varg

Legend

“One can’t mention heroes who shone as if they were Dark Age mana leaks without naming Bull-Varg.”

“Was he ever, or was he always an empty well awaiting Fylgia? That is a question many asked.”

~Skjald Sejrik

 

Description

Jorg ‘Bull-Varg’ Jolki is a tall, broad-shouldered, barrel-chested built man originating from Øsken. He is a proud manifestation of both lines of his heritage. Once a skilled hunter and herbalist, this massive monster hunter wears a protective and energetic tattoo designed by Atthil Ila and inked by Wrekazi. Allowing him to effortlessly control the bull and varg fylgias that have chosen to reside within.

These fylgia are some of the oddest ever seen, as the bull manifests itself in certain, visible ways, such as shaping him as a massive frame. The Varg is as such in both the mortal skin covering the lingering bull. And the small pelt of the throne of Ri-Vik. Bonding to him, the pelt now rests on his left shoulder, at the edge of the magic seal Atthil Ila and Wrekazi have inscribed on him. So, whenever he wills it or goes berserk, the pelt widens, adds varg abilities to his frame, and covers his body in a protective fur.

But if you ever meet him at a road’s bend, resting beneath a tree, or coming to share a tavern table, don’t fear him. Despite his towering appearance, somewhat fierce look, tree-trunk-thick arms, massive tattoo, great axe, and the odd shifting shoulder pelt. He is actually kind of gentle towards ordinary mortals and empathetic as any herbalist can be. Only monsters and invaders need to fear him.

“It’s but a few who bear twin fylgia; of those, no pair is as odd as his.”

~Skjald Valgrif

 

History

Third Age

As it adds to the ongoing discussion about Jorg’s age, Bull-Varg is more than Jorg ever was. So, let me tell you the legacy of the pelt. As the annals of Ri-Vik tell of a Rimzir lord's personal varg pet and its rampaging as its bonded master died in the final weeks of the third age of Ri-Vik. The hunt and the varg slaying are well documented, and as ‘The Varg-Pelt’ of Ri-Vik is able to exchange thoughts and feelings, it has been firmly established it once was this third age varg, hunted down and slain by Archaic.

Bonded with Bull-Varg, its memories flowing through him as well, so one could argue ‘Bull-Varg’ originates from the third age. In fact, scholars do just that, but each time they pry into it, he merely laughs and carries on with whatever he’s doing. But, just thinking on what it must have experienced, especially during the Vular War . Oh, it would indeed be intriguing if ‘The Varg-Pelt’ were on me.

“Scholars have the oddest of ideas, but knowing Fylgia, I tend to agree on Bull-Varg’s age.”

~Skjald Yell'a'Beard

 

Fourth Age

Jorg Jolki was born in 1141 in the small town of Øsken, at the southern side of Frostfjell; becoming a hunter seemed the most natural thing to anyone. And that was just what this lad started out to become. With a pass to Aspanii just north of their village, he, at an early age, began travelling there to sell furs, skins, and occasionally found combat herbs.

During his travels he learned that combat herbs could easily bring more coin than a whole season of furs. Thus, in 1159 he began to study where and how to obtain these and focused more on harvesting combat herbs than hunting. Although he was learning to read and write, he kept throwing axes, spears, and stones to survive in the wild, so he developed quite a good, strong aim.

Learning about combat herbs broadened his area of interest and lengthened his travels. Soon it was not just the local area or up into Aspanii, but also downhill the road leading to the town of Askola and across the solid stone bridge gating into Bowei. His library stops and herbalist visits were not only educational but also made him a wealthy young man. Which he realised could be a danger to him and his family.

Because as he was often on the road or in the wild, only his attire and gear revealed his status. Most of it was at home, tucked into his coffers, but luckily his parents understood the danger in it, so they kept comfortly quiet about his gains. One day, some say it was in 1174, he passed through an ancient, abandoned town. Liking its layout, the intriguing ornaments, and its easily defendable position. He decided it would be his new home, a fortification for the wealth he planned to amass and the combat herbs he planned to collect and cultivate.

So as he met other young skilled hunters in the wild or talented youth in settlements, villages, and towns, he offered for them to tag along. Slowly his group grew, and as they generally were a harvesting and refining bunch living on the shore of a rocky vik, they called themselves the Rough Vik-Wanderers.

In 1180, they numbered 30, with at least 10 always at home in Ri-Vik, as they had named their town. Now cleaned up and strongly fortified, it laid a solid foundation of what he had envisioned. In 1190, they surpassed a hundred strong, and he prepared to move his family there – but they declined. They had their homes and lives. But, as they were proud of him, they wished him luck.

Some say it was the decline that left him open for a fylgia to take hold; others claim it was the wedding disaster, and others say it was merely fylgia laying dormant in the artefacts and carvings of Ri-Vik that awakened. In 1199, the wedding of Jorg Jolki to his newfound love, Palia Palne, became one of those tragedies that writes itself into the history books.

Asked if he would bond with her, he turned to face her and smiled. She looked up, and with one hand on the swollen belly, said, “Our little bull is kicking again.” He nodded, and just as he was to confirm with a yes, the great doors were brutally smashed in, and a grotesque three-headed monster barged in.

Smashing heads, crushing chests, and breaking limbs, it easily reached him, and as it roared, it slammed him across the room. Then it bit the head clean off the terrified Palia. Jorg, stunned by the severe blow, landed in the old throne chair. With Palilas’s last words ringing in his ears, he saw the spark of his love’s life end in one swift clap of jaws.

His mind snapped, and roaring in fury, the image of their child filled his mind, and he became the embodiment of the bull on their hordes' coat of arms. Jumping up, he charged the monster head first, and the throne stool was flung back; but the fur on it gained an odd levitating flow and landed on his back.

It’s said the pelt fused to him and gave him its fylgia energies, and as the throne slammed into the wall, the eyes of the old gnarly bull trophy on the wall began to glow a deep red, and before it dissolved, energetic streams flowed from its eyes to a halo around Jorg.

As scholars say, the event was, although sad, one of the most stunning awakenings they have ever heard about. Jorg, the pelt, and the bull melted together; body mass grew tremendously, and the varg’s fur spread to cover him. With renewed energy, he surged forward and ripped off the head that had swallowed Palia at the neck. Backing in agony, the monster lost another head, and as it turned to flee, it died.

After the disaster, he retired from governing Ri-Vik and began hunting monsters with a few of his comrades. The small group of extremely skilled warriors, us, a group of rough Vik-Wanderers became The True Sworn-Wanderers, and although their leader had trouble controlling his fylgia, the ever-migrating flock in time grew to such fame that they became viewed as one of the hordes.

In 1215 they met Wrekazi, who suggested a solution for his fylgia mastery problem. So the lot travelled to the Junnatu Caves, and as Wrekazi was with them, his comrades were allowed to camp outside, while the pair went inside. After a week, he emerged before his comrades, with a grand tattoo pattern on his left arm. Speaking out loud, he proclaimed, ‘This is the new me, ‘Bull-Varg’, the monster slayer.

To his surprise, Meanbone, the king of Junnatu Weavers, stepped forth and presented him two large axes forged by Terminuz, carved by Atthil Ala, and further enhanced by Kanziganthir. With these grand gifts, tattoos, and axes, he became a true heroic legend of the dusty roads and remote settlements.

Besides numerous slayings and bold skirmishes against hordes, some say to secure combat herbs, no isle-wide greatness was attributed to him or them. As some of their skirmishes had been with Ye Olde Zephyrs and several face-offs with Black Oak, they avoided the whole non-monster 1st Alliance and the High King and The Realm thing. But when the Great Invasion surged, he saw the invaders as monsters and decided to handle them properly.

So, when the high king’s forces were close to being overwhelmed at the Battle of Weeping Plains, Bull-Varg led his crew into the fray and plunged into the enemy commander group. Easily surging through due to their skills, they killed the Kinoblin leaders’ group, making the enemies scatter and flee.

Not joining the Kinoblin pursuit, as he was charged by several frenzied Gaji-Kulat, and as they kept coming, he was pinned. The number of Gaji-Kulat killed increased, but this also reduced the number of allies supporting him. Not until a large contingent of T'Aurs joined their defence did the pressure release.

Finally victorious, the battlefield purged of surviving invaders, the High King, Zizu, and Den Godan approached him. The trio announced Bull-Varg should have the honorary title ‘Forest Gush’, and later as he visited Mt. Vula, his axes, ‘Forest Fangs’, were enchanted further. And the present overlords enhanced his ‘Fylgia Rune’.

“It will be exciting to see what the The Scorched Dawn will make of him.”

~Skjald Ulrich