04/05/2024 - 05/03/2024 | 11:59:59PM IST

Keijo's Sleeve

As The Broken Wheel fell quiet you felt tension in the air. Fenrir gave a stiff, curt nod as Hel looked to him with her head held high. “Ylva has told me of an incantation you wish to speak with me about,” Hel inquired. For a heartbeat, Fenrir held an intense gaze on Hel. Surely he could trust Ylva, yet here Hel stood before him as he presented subtle conflictions of her judgment. You watch as Freyja leans ever so closer to Fenrir, giving the reassurance everyfel needed to break the silence and begin. “Let us discuss,” she spoke with a soft tone of urgency. As the Alphas crowd around one another in a tight circle, they began whispering in quick succession. With a wave of her tail, Ylva dismisses you. You take your leave to give them space, trailing to the outside of the Broken Wheel. Your mind drifts to the captivating book that was full of information that would take days of study. What could the elemental symbols mean? Your mind reeled at the possibilities, your fur standing on end at the thought of such powerful dark magic.

With a small jolt, you are pulled from your deep thoughts as Fenrir rushes to catch up to you. His expression was unreadable, his eyes didn’t dare betray what his own mind was racing about. “As I was saying before,” Fenrir began, “I ask for one more favor.” Fenrir brings out the book he had shown you prior, as well as a book from his own personal collection. “You will need to traverse to the northern regions of the Village of Skalaness and locate a library by the name of Keijo's Sleeve,” he said as gestured for you to take the books. You tilt your head, taking the books within your paws as Fenrir continues to explain. “There at Keijo’s Sleeve you will need to search for books of each of the individual elements; Fire, Water, Earth, Air, Death, Life, Shadow, Light, and Time.” He pressed on the two books in your paws, “These are so that you are granted access to the library. The keeper is not one to let go of his artifacts easily, a trade of equal value is required. I am certain he would gladly add these to his collection.” You nod in understanding, it was said that the locals had high respect for the library owner. Your paws tingled at the thought of stepping paw in the very place.

Wasting no time, you head to Keijo’s Sleeve. Sticking your head in the many dimly lit alley’s, you finally come across the one that leads to the tight corridor that hosts Keijo’s Sleeve. The musty smell of books and parchment floods your nostrils, the very sight of the many shelves full of relics was inspiring, yet daunting. Before you could get any closer, a small dwarf with a long beard appeared at your paws. With a gruff clear of his throat, he narrows his eyes at you. “The names Keijo, and you?” he grunted as he busied himself with the many scrolls in his paws. Before you could utter your name, you see that he’s inspecting the two books you possessed, his ears twitching with great interest as he exclaimed, “Ah, now where does somefel like you find such books!” Before trading the books off to Keijo, you sit and explain the situation.

“You need to borrow 9 books, each for a unique element?” Keijo sat stroking his beard, pondering about lending out so many books. You nod your head eagerly and leaned forward with anticipation as the seconds drew on. “You will find them here, each tucked away in their respective spot,” he spoke in a matter of fact tone, clearly proud of his organization skills. “However, I have much to do and cannot assist,” Keijo grumbled as he quickly tucked away the two books that you had given to him. With a wave of his paw, he sends you off into his library. “Be swift, and careful!” he barked back at you as he disappeared behind a curtain down a corridor. As the soft sound of rain started to patter just outside, you stood there amongst the many towering shelves, your fur prickling uneasily. It was time to start your search for the 9 individual books.

Objective:

Depict or write your Felvarg inside Keijo's Sleeve as they search the many shelves within the library for the 9 Elemental Books.

Reward:

1,500 Felcredits, 1x Chest of War, Peace, Power, Knowledge, 1x Long Lost Treasure, 3x Token of Eastertide, 1x Path to Valhalla, 50% Chance for 1x Stack of Missing Pages

10/22/2024 - 11/18/2024 | 11:59:59PM IST

Sorrow's Burden

The air around the Shrine of Ragnarok was thick with the weight of ancient power. The towering stone structures, etched with runes older than most could comprehend, loomed above in quiet reverence. You tread carefully, your paws pressing lightly into the cold ground as you approached the heart of the sacred site. The wind whispered through the trees, carrying with it the distant echoes of a time when the island of Ulfrheim had been ravaged by war and chaos. It was in this solemn place that you saw her—Hel. Her presence was unmistakable, cloaked in shadows and power. She stood tall before one of the larger shrines, the runes on the stone glowing faintly as if in response to her very being. Her fur, dark as the deepest night, shimmered in the pale light of the sun filtering through the trees, and her eyes glowed with a depth of sorrow that few could bear to see.

For a moment, you hesitated. You had heard stories of Hel, her name was whispered in both reverence and fear, and yet, here she was, alone, paying her respects to the fallen. The weight of history hung in the air, and you felt it tug at your heart as you took a slow step forward, drawn to her in spite of yourself. Hel's gaze flickered to you, her eyes narrowing slightly as if she had sensed your presence long before you had arrived. There was no malice in her stare, only a deep, quiet sadness that made your chest tighten. “Do you know why I come here?” she asked, her voice a soft, velvety echo of ages past. “To remember,” she murmured, turning her gaze back to the shrine before her. “To honour those who were lost in the war, the ones who fell in battle and the ones who were left behind. So many were lost...” Her voice trailed off, and for a brief moment, you saw the flicker of pain cross her features—fleeting but sharp, like a knife slicing through the air. “Even those who were close to me.”

Hel's presence seemed to radiate sorrow as she spoke, and though she kept her distance, you could feel the weight of her memories pressing in on you. You had always known that the war had taken a toll on all who lived through it, but hearing her speak of it—someone so ancient and powerful—brought a new level of gravity to the loss. “I have lived countless years,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper now. “But there are still some regrets that haunt me. Things I did that I cannot take back. Choices made... lives lost. Some of those lives were dear to me, and yet... I wronged them.”

You blinked, caught off guard by her admission. Hel, the unflinching, very powerful witch, admitting regret? It seemed unfathomable, yet here she was, standing in the shadow of the shrines, baring a piece of her soul. She didn’t elaborate on who she had wronged or how. That secret, it seemed, was hers to bear alone. But the pain in her voice was unmistakable.

“I have learned,” she continued, her eyes locking onto yours, “that time is far more fleeting than you might think. Even for someone like me, who has watched the ages come and go. We think we have all the time in the world, that we can mend what’s broken when it suits us. But in the end, we find that the moments slip through our claws like grains of sand.” She paused, her eyes narrowing slightly as if the weight of her words was difficult even for her to bear. “If there is one thing I have come to understand, it is this: seek out those you have wronged. Make amends before it is too late. Not for them... but for you. Once they are gone, no amount of power or remorse will bring them back. And the guilt... it will stay with you. Always.”

Her words struck deep, a sobering reminder of the impermanence of life, even in a world where magic and ancient forces ruled. You could feel her gaze boring into you, as if she was silently urging you to reflect on your own past, on the Fel you might have wronged, on the chances you had let slip by.

“Go,” she said at last, her voice soft yet commanding. “Do not wait until the weight of regret crushes you. Make amends while you still can. The dead... they have already paid the price. Do not let the living bear that burden.” With that, she turned her gaze back to the shrine, her eyes distant once more as she lost herself in the memories of those she had wronged and the lives that had been lost. The air around her seemed to grow heavier, colder, as if the souls of the fallen were gathering at her side, their silent presence a testament to the weight she carried.

You stood there for a moment longer, the gravity of her words settling into your bones. Then, with a quiet nod, you turned away, leaving Hel to her silent vigil, the wind carrying her sorrowful whispers as you made your way back through the Shrine of Ragnarok. The weight of unfinished business pressed against your heart, and for the first time, you truly understood the importance of making things right... before it was too late.

Objective:

Depict or write your Felvarg seeking out somefel they have wronged and making amends, before time itself steals that option from you.

Reward:

1,000 Felcredits, 1x Long Lost Treasure, 1x Shrine, 50% chance for 1x Blessing of the High Queen.

10/03/2024 - 11/02/2024 | 11:59:59PM IST

Hermodr

A thick, suffocating fog blankets the landscape, casting everything in a heavy, oppressive silence. The world beyond a few paces is hidden, swallowed whole by the swirling mist. The once-crisp air now carries the scent of damp earth, and the muffled sound of your footsteps feels strangely hollow, as if even the ground beneath you resents the intrusion. The great hawk Hermodr, known across Ulfrheim for his swiftness and loyalty to the Alphas, lies before you. His imposing form, with sharp metal feathers glinting in the dark night and piercing amber eyes, is now grounded. His left wing is twisted awkwardly beneath him, bent at an unnatural angle after his fall from the sky. His breaths come in short, labored gasps, each one a testament to the pain he’s enduring. The message clutched in his talons is clearly of great importance, the wax seal bearing Fenrir’s unmistakable mark still intact.

The fog, thick and unmoving, has grounded more than just Hermodr. It's unnatural, likely the work of dark magic, as even the winds seem hesitant to disturb it. Time feels twisted here, and each moment wasted could mean disaster. Hermodr’s injuries leave him unable to fly, and yet the letter must be delivered swiftly. Your task is clear: you must navigate the perilous terrain, overcome whatever dangers lie hidden within the fog, and deliver the letter in Hermodr’s stead. But it won’t be easy. The fog itself feels alive, shifting and swirling as if watching your every move. The path is treacherous, full of unseen dangers—jagged rocks, hidden pitfalls, and the distant growl of creatures who thrive in the shadows. The weight of the responsibility presses upon you like the fog itself; failure is not an option, for whatever lies in that letter holds the fate of Ulfrheim in its grasp.

With Hermodr's guidance, you may be able to navigate the land and avoid the dangers that lurk within the mist, but time is your greatest enemy. As the fog thickens, you must rely on your instincts and perhaps even those you encounter along the way, though not all may be trustworthy in times like these. The question remains: will you be able to deliver the letter in time, or will the thick fog and the enemies hidden within it prove too much to overcome? Hermodr watches you intently, his strength waning but his will unbroken. The path ahead is shrouded in uncertainty, but your goal is clear. The letter must reach its destination—whatever the cost.

Objective:

Depict or Write your Felvarg attempting to deliver the letter to Fenrir with Hermodr carefully bundled up with you.

Reward:

1x Badge, 1x Strange Nordic Box, 1x Candies, 25% chance for 1x Bottled Cloud.