The Tale of Radr, the Stag-King
In the early days of Atmoran supremacy over the scheming Falmer, when the ice elves were fleeing into their mysterious winter hovels, there was once a great king of a certain valley filled with life. This king was known as Radr, the great Stag-King of those divided days of old, though he was not always known as the Stag-King. For much of his life, he was known as Radr the Wanderer, for he lived a nomadic life style akin to a noble and reasonable snow elf (if such a creature could ever exist).
One fateful morning, he had been hunting a beautiful doe from across the river. Its fur looked as soft as a rabbit's, but its frame was as large as an ox. If he was to take on this magnificent beast head on, he would surely perish. However, if he succeeded in slaying the beast, then he would have enough hide to sell to make a small fortune, and enough food to eat to become the size of a bear. So in his wisdom he crept slowly but steadily behind the beast as it was getting its morning drink. Using his trusty halberd of unknown metals to his advantage, he closed the distance. Striking the doe in the neck, the head of the elk rolled down into the river and with a sizable splash, floated gently down the stream. He had done it. This had been a good day.
As he began dragging his meal out from the open and into the forest, he notice a small, shivering calf in the distance struggling to stand. It did not take Radr, wisest man in the valley, long before realizing that this calf was the recent offspring of the doe. It is believed that Radr initially carried the calf to camp with the intention of feasting on it as well, before changing his mind. However, the Radr that I've heard of would never think of harming a defenseless creature such as it. The calf was named Brumadhr, and he would grow to be the greatest elk to ever live.
Years later, Brumadhr had grown up to be a sort of steed to our wandering hero. They had fought countless battles against goblins, trolls, and elves of many skin tones and malicious speech patterns. Though Radr and Brumadhr would soon encounter their greatest enemy yet. They had been passing through a typical Nordic mountain village in Skyrim, nothing of any particular value to add to the story. There was, however, talk of a mysterious figure who would appear during the most harrowing of winter nights. This figure would be later described as a sort of demon in a cloak of a tundra's gale. This did not bother Radr, as he had been through much worse situations than to get in some brawl with a Frost Atronach. He did, however, intend to heed their warning for the night.
Later that night, Radr had heard a sudden creaking in the walls of the local inn. Like cackling, as if the floors themselves wished to swallow Radr into the chasm of the afterlife. Radr wisely chose to take his halberd with him as he left the eerie comfort of the inn to face the harsh blizzard. Soon after he made it to the center of the village, the blizzard ceased. There was no snow fall to be seen, not even as much as a soft breeze. He stood there confused for a while before deciding to go back to sleep.
As he entered the inn, a voracious and foul creature flew towards him from inside the building. Upon tackling our brave hero, the snarling white impish creature declared itself "Ushiltherin". Upon getting a more thorough look at the vile elf, Radr knew that it was a Falmer that had been terrorizing this village. Unfortunately for Radr, his halberd lay across the street. If he were to survive this encounter with a Falmer, He would need to get to his weapon, and fast. As luck would have it, Brumadhr has witnessed the ice elf grapple and claw at Radr, and charged straight for him. Ushiltherin was knocked back with gashes throughout its torso, but the beast was not finished with its rampage just yet. Radr dove for his trusty halberd as Ushiltherin lunged soon after to meet its end. Ushiltherin's skeletal, inhuman arms may have been longer than Radr's, but it was no match for a polearm's superior reach.
As the animalistic life of the Falmer began to fade from the creature's eyes, Dawn had been slowly creeping upon them. Soon after, the village people awakened and saw the fruits of Radr the Wanderer's slaying. In honor of his victory on that which plagued the town, they had named him king. Radr would no longer be known as the Wanderer, but instead as the Stag-King.
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