| THE VARGBANE |

[ImmortalShadowZ 1306]

 

Spoiler

 

https://youtu.be/-NUu0AfCDYg?si=9RF_UqpuvzwUbS1y

 

 

THE VARGBANE

ᛏᚺᛖ ᚢᚨᚱᚷᛒᚨᚾᛖ

 

 

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“All life is a struggle. We’re born, we fight, we die. Folks will always struggle for power and land, for silver, for fame, women and slaves. The gods know that; they show their favour by bestowing courage and strength on those they choose to uphold the old ways. You have been chosen, Bjarki. You’re special. You must fight for what you know is right.”
Angus Donald 

The Last Berserker

 

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OVERVIEW

 

From the cold fringes of the Northern Hearth, a small, seldom-understood brotherhood of hunters and guardians would bind themselves to the reaches of the Norlandic North. Once working with no formal charters and bearing no official banners save from the lands they were born within, their only markings borne on their skin. Where most men fight other men, those of the Vargbane turn their blades against those who slip through the dark - creatures of the Long Dark that fear not steel or flame. Their work is done not for coin or recognition, but for their eternal battle against those who occupy the shadows. Most would prefer not to think about what it is that those of the Vargbane track through the dense shrubs and pockets of green and brown, through the pines and the oaks; rather, they know what it is, it is a necessity.

 

The name Vargbane—literally Wolf’s Bane—was chosen to reflect both their purpose and their peril. In the old tongue, it marked not only the slayers of beasts, but also those who stood against the predatory and the cursed. To the folk of the North, it became synonymous with defiance against what lurks unseen—the bane of the devouring dark itself.

 

Though their customs draw from older northern traditions of monster-slayers and spirit-wards, the Vargbane as they now stand are a fledgling brotherhood—united less by lineage and more by shared conviction. Their ideals are new, forged in the thaw between the old world and the coming one. They are not relics of forgotten faiths, but a rebirth of them: new iron hammered in the fires of older forges, shaped by necessity and bound by will.

 

Those who join are tempered by The Vargvegr, a test of ordeals meant to separate the ready from those who aren’t, to break the ones who aren’t and to mould the ones who are. Few speak, if any, of the brotherhood of what the trials encapsulated. What follows is a harsh training regimen, but a necessary one - for those of the Long Dark, do not end easily. Those of the Vargbane have come to learn rather easily that in a land where those of the old stories sometimes walk, there must be ones, like Asmund Ingridsson, who stand between the settlements and the things that hunt them.

Kaer Sköllreach, the northern keep of the Vargbane, rises from the jagged spine of the mountains as both fortress and sentinel. The walls, blackened and jagged, descend sharply into valleys thick with pine and moss, sagging under centuries of storms, while the battlements are dotted with stunted trees, stubborn reminders that nature never fully bends to man. The keep is austere, its halls long and shadowed, its hearths few and wary; life endures here, but it is measured, utilitarian, and dictated by the vigilance and skill of those who dwell within. It is not merely a home, but the heart of the brotherhood, a stronghold carved from the mountain itself to withstand both the Long Dark and the horrors that dwell beyond it.

 

 

APPEARANCE

 

Life within Kaer Sköllreach shapes those who dwell there. The hunters of the Vargbane wear not the garb of knights or lords, but the attire of endurance—garments born of necessity, not pride. There is no set appearance for those amongst their ranks. Each hunter outfits themselves as they see fit, favouring what is practical for traversing the harsh and uneven terrain of the northern fringes. Their gear—boiled leather, layered wool, hard-wearing mail, and heavy furs in the bitterest winters—is built for endurance rather than show.

 

Their garb is plain in colour, for the dyes and treatments of the southern realms are costly and unnecessary. More importantly, muted tones serve a purpose: to blend with the stone, snow, and pine. Some among them wear charms or trophies from past hunts—fangs, scraps of hide, or carved tokens—but such displays are a matter of personal choice, not expectation.

 

CULTURE | BELIEFS

 

Kaer Sköllreach serves as both crucible and sanctuary, a fortress that embodies the brotherhood’s discipline: austere, shadowed, and unyielding. Every corner of stone, timber, and tower stands as a bulwark against the threats that prowl beyond its walls.

 

The Vargbane hold endurance above glory, vigilance above comfort. Their way of life is shaped by necessity and sharpened by hardship. Some whisper that their founding was woven by the Norns themselves—that fate spun a new thread for men who would stand between the realms of man and monster. Whether truth or superstition, the belief lends weight to their cause: that even fledgling hands may carry the will of something far older.

 

From this creed springs their method. Faith, for the Vargbane, is not found in temples or spoken prayers, but in action—in the quiet precision of a hunt, in the patience to watch the dark and wait. They believe that to endure is to serve, and to serve is to fight not for glory, but for the living who sleep unaware of what stirs beyond their fires. They do not seek out your obligation towards a set faith, merely that you finish the task you were set to do.

 

TACTICS AND METHOD
 

The Vargbane do not rush blindly into the dark. A blade swung without knowledge is a blade wasted—and in the wild, such waste gets you killed. Every trail is first surveyed, and every site of disturbance is studied. Be it strange tracks in the frost, a gutted deer carcass strung high in a tree, or silence where birds once sang—these are not ignored. They are read like a page from a grim book.

 

Hunters of the Vargbane are trained to observe before they act. Investigation is the root of survival. They are taught to read the signs left behind not just by man, but by beast and worse—by those things that do not belong in the daylight. Their knowledge of animal behaviour, plant life, spoor, and the creeping sicknesses of the land is not scholarly—it is lived, tested, and often paid for in blood.

 

Particularly, the study of Grendel-kind—those monstrous, half-glimpsed fiends of the Long Dark—is vital. Their habits, weaknesses, and marks of passage are compiled into old field journals and passed down through spoken traditions from one Vargbane to the next. Each hunter adds what they learn and what they survive.

 

To know what hunts you is the first step in learning how to kill it.

 

Spoiler

https://discord.gg/masABKWMnk

REFERENCES

This is a subliminal advertisement for recruitment to the Vargbane, a group situated in Norland. We were bored and wanted to collect the thoughts of the Vargbane into a proper written document that explains its main core aesthetics to people who may want to properly interact with the group, individuals, or join it.

To those seeking out interest, you can contact me in-game or in discord: ImmortalshadowZ, Roleplay name: Malric



Co-written by ImmortalShadowZ & Stal_27 
Formatted by Stal_27

In-game image taken by ImmortalShadowZ
Respected Images taken from these associated Pinterest links:

https://uk.pinterest.com/pin/137711701100437484

https://uk.pinterest.com/pin/1759287348244405/
https://uk.pinterest.com/pin/5770305769273448