The stories surrounding the small duchy of Ulvemåne in the kingdom of Vornair are vast and colorful, none more so than the story of how the tribes who call the region home came into being.
The legend tells of a time when Mann was first starting to inhabit the world of Elyria, when the tribes who now call the lands home were finding their way and following the signs from their Gods. In a small glen on the outskirts of what is now the bustling capital of Ulveelv, a lone wolf made her way trying to live peacefully with this new species.
The glen was her home along the shores of the river that flows between the duchies of Anemoi, Ulvemåne and the Conclave. She lived there happily, though lonely for others of her kind. The area provided ample food to nourish her and the river provided water to keep her strong and hydrated. At night she would lie on the soft grass and dream of the day that others like her would make their way to her glen. As she would drift off to sleep, she would cry out to the night goddess watching from the heavens, begging for a companion.
It was a dark morning when she picked up a new scent within her domain. Her ears perked as she listened, footsteps in the distance. She could tell the creature approaching was one of the menn she did her best to avoid. She hid behind a gathering of several trees, hoping this creature could not smell her as she did him. Her eyes grew tight as she watched this mysterious creature explore her home. He stopped suddenly and turned his eyes in the direction of the trees providing her cover.
“I mean you no harm, sweet one,” his voice was soothing and gave the wolf a sense of calm as he spoke. “You have brought me here, do not fear me. I heard your cries and have come to give you that which you desire.” He gestured for her to exit the hiding place. Slowly the wolf moved from beyond the trees, calmed but still cautious of the stranger.
He knelt as she approached. She watched as he extended his hand and ran it along her coarse dark fur. A low murmur escaped from deep within her, experiencing a feeling she had not known previously. She pressed against him as he continued to stroke her back and sides.
“I know you wish for a companion. While I cannot always be that companion, I have come to you to grant your wish. I am Kedryn,” he paused, he sensed her tense at his words. “I am akin to the night goddess to whom you cry, she has carried your tears to me and asked that I come and give you that which you so desire.” With another stroke of his hand, she began to feel her eyes grow heavy and soon she was fast asleep.
She found herself alone when the sleep was washed from her. She lifted her muzzle, trying to sense the mann, but he was gone. There was a new sadness now that she was once again alone. She wished he had never found her just to be abandoned.
Days passed and she noticed the growing in her stomach. It wasn’t long until she realized she was about give birth. She howled as the pain grew and the pups began to emerge. She howls of pain turns to horror as she watched these creatures pull themselves from inside her. They were covered in fur similar to her own, but their paws were like his not hers. She watched as the struggled to right themselves, she was certain the fear showed in her eyes as each stood on its hind legs. Finally, her body stopped pushing the creatures out. She stared at the seven beasts searching for a teat for their first bit of nourishment.
She spent her remaining years raising her children and watching them raise their own with the other upright beasts who had started to populate the outlying areas. As her years marched on and her body grew weak, she watched from her glen as her children built the settlements which in future generations would be home to the noble families of Ulvemåne.
Upon her death, once more she was visited by the Virtue who had given her a family. As her last breath was taken the moon was covered in blood, the blood of the Morulv, the mother wolf, of Ulvemåne and ancestor of the great tribes of the duchy.
