There is a tale from ages past about a
crafty thief referred to by those who tell the tale as The Dark
Blizzard Bandit. If there’s one thing rogues are known for,
it’s their love of reviving the arts of those perfected by
one of their own over the years.
The Dark Blizzard Bandit is rumoured to be the master of all wolves.
Abandoned as a child, they wandered the lands aimlessly with the only
friend they had, their pet wolf. They learnt many things from their
wolf, tricks to survive, ways to stay warm and methods of hunting.
It’s said the very love they had for their wolf allowed the
animal to thrive for many years longer then he should have.
The ways of men were lost to this child in time as they grew into an
adult. They cared not for those creatures that feared their wolf and
tried to kill him and turned instead to the pack life his wolf soon
attracted. They sought a home that few tarried in over time and with
much trial and error discovered that few cared to make a home in the
cold uncaring stretches of Dark Blizzard Pass.
With their wolf they built themselves a home within the snowy reaches.
With only the heartless trolls to contend with most days, the thief
watched as their wolf began a family and the number of wolves they kept
in their company increased. Their jaded perspective grew only more so
over the decades and the thief took to dissuading visitors by robbing
them of all the resources they required to survive long expeditions in
the snow.
If this failed to work, it’s said they were mysteriously
descended upon during the night by droves of snow white wolves headed
as it appeared by a single person mounted upon the back of a midnight
black pack leader. In time the story grew until the dark wolf was made
of shadows and stood four men high. The realm of Dark Blizzard was safe
not for visitors.
The Dark Blizzard Bandit is claimed to have stolen a kings wealth in
gold, all of which is said to have been melted down to make jewellery
and adornment for their beloved pack. Countless hordes of food and
provisions they claimed, which kept their pack well fed during the most
merciless of winters. The bones of those who fell victim are rumoured
to have been used in creating for the Bandit’s pack a mighty
courage faltering den that is said to have been buried over the years
under the constant fall of snow.
As to their end, no one knows. Many surmise that in true wolf fashion
come the nearing of their end, the Bandit wandered into the snowy
fields never to return. Others wish to believe they passed on without a
shred of human tendencies only to be devoured by the very pack they
ruled passing humanistic qualities onto the pack in the process and a
wisdom as to the workings of men, which explains the crafty second
nature of most wolves.
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