Cwn Annwn
Cŵn Annwn
(The Wild Hunt)
The Cwn Annwn hail from the frozen forests of the Icewind Dale. The cold lands and tundra of the Spine nurture a fierce survival, and this collection of people hold the mantra 'survival of the fittest' over all else. Brutal, vicious warriors and druids, the Cwn Annwn claim the lands untouched by man as their own.
Summary
Born from the remnants of the Aurilite tribesmen, as well as the Wolves of Caul, these kings and queens of the ice lands of the Spine look down upon all who seek to enter their domain without cause or with malice. Fiercely protective of their territory, they seek to hunt and dominate the unlucky few who try and bring 'civilization' to the wilds. They frequently kill settlers who come too close to their holy glades and hunting grounds, and bring the wrath of the furies down on those who are too weak or too imbecilic to properly respect nature.
Origin/History
Icewind Dale has been home to hunters and barbarians ever since its settlement, but before the most recent century, few ever banded together outside of traditional tribal groups or loose alliances between a few members. The nature of such folk precluded it – like all apex predators, they required their own territories, and where those territories overlapped, matters could become bloody.
That changed in 1356 DR, when great events rocked the Dale and its settlements. By the time all was done, the threat had been averted but the Dale bore scars of war, supernatural magics and the meddling of outsiders. A conclave of druids, barbarians, nature priests and others met in a cave designated as a neutral ground, a shelter from the cold where these events could be discussed. Oaths were sworn, and mostly kept, that there would be no fighting for the length of the conclave.
The Cŵn Annwn was born later that tenday under the leadership of a weathered man who called himself Arawn. His pack of beasts and men, followers of Malar, formed the basis for a greater pack incepted to strike at threats from outside. Never again, Arawn swore, would the Dale be rocked by such treacherous outside influence without being hounded at every turn by the faithful of the Beastlord. This frozen North was their land, the prey and people theirs by right, and any intervening would suffer the wrath of the pack: nipping, driving, circling, and eventually killing.
In truth, this new 'wild hunt' carried little significance for two decades and more. Arawn grew older, but no less canny. The Dale suffered occasional upheaval, and again an echo of the violence and outside influence that had earlier wracked it, but little changed.
Then a stranger approached Arawn's camp one night, while the coals of his fire burned low. Clad in a while cloak, yet showing bare flesh underneath, she seemed little troubled by the icy terrain. Arawn's companions growled and circled, but he bid them stand down; he knew an Aurilite by smell, and thought to at least hear her out before he and his companions fed on her flesh.
This new arrival brought tidings from lands to the south. She claimed to be a seer, one who could speak with spirits and divine events from expanses of glittering ice. And she brought a message from one named Braghuru that the lands to the South, now called Sundren, would soon be spilling northwards. That great strife and trouble awaited them, and they would bring it with them into the wilds. She pledged the service of her divinations and her spirits. Her presence, too, would begin to call Aurilites to add to the strength of the Wild Hunt. While Malar despised the Frostmaiden and her fey antics, there was no denying that the strange woman's gifts would help counter this new rising threat. Arawn agreed, and the two bound themselves in oath that they would not spill each others' blood, nor the blood of their followers, while both stayed true to the Hunt.
The next years were spent in tense waiting. Scouts ventured south into Sundren, never showing themselves and always returning with tidings of great unrest. Of Bloodmaim armies marching, of a city rising into the air. That particular bit stirred the blood of the Hunt, and in recompense for such a wrong done to the land they took to the snow. Nearly fifty settlers, villagers and travellers died that night, their remains left bloody on the snow as a graphic reminder that the land would take back what was taken from it.
Then, outside influence stirred again. This time, though, it was not the ruinous plundering of settlers, but a swell of new opportunity. The ragged remnants of the Snow Leopards and their allies straggled northwards, expelled from Aquor by the hated gleaming shields and blades of civilization. Some remained true to their totem and to Auril. Others forsake her, spitting on the name and returning to old ways. And nearly all of them found themselves circled, one by one, by men and beasts. They were given tidings of the Wild Hunt, and an offer to come to Arawn's camp. There, they could recover, strengthen, and form a new bastion against the encroachment of the hated Exigo and its Blackwood goons. Many took the offer; a few didn't, and were slain and left as a warning.
Now, the Wild Hunt finds its numbers swelled to three times what they once were. Although no army, they now have the strength to pursue their aims even as the glacier begins to recede. Those that trespass would do well to heed them, or else end their lives as a reminder that nature is neither kind nor gentle to the stupid.
Bases of Operations
The Cwn Annwn claimed the cave used in the conclave long ago, and has since turned it into a refuge. Although its members roam far and wide, this place – known as the 'Den' to most of its members – serves as a place to barter for food and supplies, share the company of the like-minded, and chase away the Frostmaiden's chill for a while.
The barbarian Genseric has established ground inside and outside to be used for challenge matches, but other than in these places, there is to be no bloodshed. The hierarchy of the pack is to be respected, and minor insults let slide. Those who recklessly challenge or threaten the safety of the Den have Arawn to answer to, and he is not the most patient of men.
Objectives
The gold-obsessed Exigo and their Blackwood and Whurest toadies bring ruin and the withering of the wilds. Scout the outsider. Hound the outsider. Drive the outsider away or kill the outsider, unless proper submission is offered.
If the Black Hand thinks it can dominate the wilds, show it how wrong it is. Scout the outsider. Hound the outsider. Drive the outsider away or kill the outsider, unless proper submission is offered.
Those that wear the Legion's colors bring troubles with them that the Dale can ill afford. Scout the outsider. Hound the outsider. Drive the outsider away or kill the outsider, unless proper submission is offered.
Paladins and knights blunder through snow in plate, harming more than they heal. Scout the outsider. Hound the outsider. Drive the ousider away or kill the outsider, unless proper submission is offered.
Those who suckle on the teat of the wild, yet ignore lessons of strength and mercilessness, are misguided yet might still be brought into the Hunt. Scout them. Hound then. Seek first to gain their submission, and if there is none, do what you please.
Spill no blood of the Hunt unless it has been betrayed, then fall upon the betrayer with wild abandon and no mercy.
Leadership
Arawn the Huntsman
A ranger and beastmaster, Arawn has grown to be very old in a profession where even the best die young. And, in spite of his age, he remains the nominal leader of the Wild Hunt. This should be a clue to any wide-eyed pup that he deserves and demands respect. Arawn hunts with two enormous paragon dire wolves, the male and female alpha of his pack, and is said to be able to howl tidings and hear them across the whole of the Dale.
It is whispered that even Arawn's age is catching up to him, and he seeks one worthy to take control of the Hunt so that he can step back and advise. However, those who seek to exploit this perceived weakness and challenge him still end up on their ass and thrown out of Den for a night – if they're lucky.
Morrigas the Crone
There are many rumors and few facts about Morrigas, the Ice Seer who approached Arawn about four years ago. She can appear as a withered old hag, a maiden of ravishing beauty, or nearly anything else she pleases in spite of lacking a druid's gifts for true shapeshifting. Some whisper that she is touched by the Unseelie, and others that she might be a full-blooded fey. Still others dismiss her as an old woman clinging to scraps of vanity allowed by her unnatural gifts. Whatever the truth, Morrigas seems uninterested in leadership. She instead offers cryptic advice and glimpses of the future, guiding the Wild Hunt in its targets of choice. On the few occasions where members of the Hunt have found it necessary to negotiate with outsiders, Morrigas' advice has proven crucial.
Genseric
Nearly a polar opposite to Arawn, Genseric is young, loud, boistrous and utterly lacking in anything like civility or tact. A recent integration into the Wild Hunt from the Unthgardt tribes, Geneseric will happily voice his opinion on nearly anything except for the reason he left and the reason he's here. Besides, of course, to find some good fights. Geneseric worships Garagos, but believes his religious devotion is second to finding the purest expression of rage. He has little respect for anyone who can't lose themselves in a fit of screaming blood-madness, but defers to Arawn in matters of hunting and leadership, and defers to Morrigas because she either scares the piss out of him or he wants to take her to bed. Depends on who you ask.