Wurlim Frostking Champion Lore
Whether they live in Frostheim, among the Redspike Mountains, or travel the dunes of the Krokhan Desert, the name of Wurlim Frostking is a curse among the descendants of the Old Norr. That might seem strange at first, for those who know their history know that Wurlim was once the greatest leader of the Old Norr, the Lord of Winter, a mighty warlord of towering stature, strong arm, and rapacious intent. Still, his name will always be associated with his people’s fall from grace.
During the First Great War, the Old Norr enjoyed an unrivaled period of power and prosperity. With the armies of Lumaya and Siroth locked in a conflict that would decide the fate of Teleria, neither side had the resources required to counter the raiding expeditions launched by the Old Norr from their icy northern fjords in the Winterlands. While they had made pacts with Lumaya long before, these pillagers showed little compunction about attacking her servants when they were near-defenseless. Under Wurlim’s direction, the Old Norr grew strong, looting coastlines from Aravia to the Sorrowlakes and venturing as far as the Lost Isles to the south.
Such successes could not continue forever. Realizing that attacks by Wurlim were undermining the war effort, the Arbiter visited the Frostking’s icy halls and demanded that the Old Norr cease their attacks on the followers of Lumaya. She reminded Wurlim that his people had once sworn to follow the Goddess of Light, and that she now had need of them. Not only were the Old Norr to restrain their raiding, but they were also to serve the Arbiter in a campaign she had planned, one that would take them to the pinnacle of the world.
While many Old Norr railed at such presumptuousness, Wurlim sensed possibility in the Arbiter’s commands. She wished to turn them into something more than just raiders, to forge them into a unified people, of which he would be king. It might only be to meet her own short-term ends, but the result would still be the same — the Old Norr would be more united and battle-hardened than they had ever been, and it would be Wurlim who led them.
And so the Frostking agreed to aid the Arbiter, and summoned Old Norr and Jotunn tribes to attend him. With the greatest gathering of warriors ever seen in the north, Wurlim set out, following the Arbiter on her secret quest.
After many weeks of marching, they arrived at their destination, a warm, still lake at the very capstone of Teleria, somehow existing unfrozen in the icy landscape. There too they found a Demonspawn army. Wurlim assumed the army’s destruction was the Arbiter’s objective, and he led the Old Norr into the fray, confident of victory.
But his confidence proved fatal, for close to the lake was a portal into Anathraad. Demonic reinforcements poured through, overwhelming the Old Norr and the Jotunn. Wurlim demanded the Arbiter’s assistance, but she was chanting arcane spells over the lake’s edge. Too late, Wurlim realized that they had been tricked. The Arbiter cared nothing for the Old Norr and the Jotunn, he thought. She simply wished to use them to distract the Demonspawn while she attempted to close the portal.
Wurlim sought to reach and slay her, but before he could the Arbiter finished her incantation. Ice from the surrounding mountains swept into the lake as the waters themselves froze, forming a great glacier. Wurlim and his surviving warriors were caught in the spell’s effects, frozen solid and sealed away as assuredly as the portal.
With the Old Norr’s leadership in disarray, the Arbiter seized her opportunity to forever end their unruliness and unpredictability, scattering the rest of the tribes and causing the great migration of the Old Norr peoples from the Winterlands. Many believe that Wurlim’s foolish pride was the reason they were cast out of the north, and assume him to be long dead or, at the very least, still entombed in his icy grave. Such assumptions are incorrect.
Ages after he was trapped, Wurlim’s body was freed and resurrected by the corrupt necromantic scholar Bad-el-Kazar, the Grandmaster of Ireth. Ireth had long had a pact with the infamous Cult of K’Leth but, knowing of the duplicitousness of the Knights Revenant, he intended to attain both a new bodyguard and a bargaining chip. Wurlim could certainly act as both, for the hulking, icy brute was more than a match for even the most experienced Knights Revenant. Wurlim oversaw lreth’s dealings with the Knights Revenant before the grandmaster eventually sold him into the cult’s ranks. Now, as Wurlim broods on the changed world before him, it seems unlikely the old Lord of Winter will be content to live as their pawn.
Wurlim Frostking Storyline
According to the Legend of Genesis, after Lumaya created the earth and skies of Teleria, she wished to see its vast realms before withdrawing from the mortal plane. Far and wide she went, through the shadowy forest of Durham and through the wind-swept wastes of Krokhan, o’er the stormy oceans and to the islands of the Mysterious East. At the very last leg of her journey, the Goddess made her way to the frozen peak of the world – the Winterlands. It was there she turned back to gaze at her creation and cried tears of sorrow, for not even she could save her children from the evils and the sorrows that would be wrought upon them. Her tears melted the ice of the glacier and formed a magical lake – the Font of Lumaya, whose waters could cure any ailment or injury. Some dared to suggest that even the dead could be brought back to life, for it was the Goddess’ own love given form. In the millennia that followed, many villains attempted to seize the Font. Siroth’s vile spawn, necromancers and tyrants, all hoping to turn Lumaya’s power to their selfish ends. The Arbiter had intervened to thwart these schemes, but she alone could not protect the entirety of Teleria. Thus she sought help, recruiting a clan of mighty ice giants who populated the Winterlands – the Jotuns – to her cause. Their leader, Wurlim Frostking, just, for a giant at least, stalwart, and had pledged the strength of his people to Lumaya. In turn, the Arbiter granted him powers beyond mortal reckoning, proclaiming him to be one of Lumaya’s Chosen in this desolate part of the world. For centuries Wurlim and his kin battled the foul minions of Siroth. More Champions joined him, the fierce Ursine brothers and the noble Stag Knight, and together they held darkness at bay. Alas, for all their efforts, the power of Siroth would not be denied. As the Shadow and corruption spread across Teleria, the Jotuns found themselves outnumbered and gradually overwhelmed. The Enemy was insidious, for his servants used the reanimated dead bodies of the giants to sow fear among the defenders. Some renounced their vows and fled south to join others of their kind or forge their own way as mercenaries rather than face the eternal torment of Undeath. Discord had even been sown among the Arbiter’s own Champions; the Stag Knight proposed that the Font be encased in ice through a complex arcane ritual and abandoned – for a time – while the Forstking’s pride would not allow him to abandon the lands he swore to protect. Instead, Wurlim led his surviving warriors in a defiant last stand, bellowing challenges to the foe and calling upon Lumaya’s favour to aid him in battle. But there were no miracles to be found on that field, only despair. Defeated and mortally wounded, Wurlim used the last of his strength to renounce and curse Lumaya for the false Goddess she was. He willingly offered his soul to Siroth in exchange for vengeance, and the Dark One accepted. In a flash of cold blue light, Wurlim was reborn. No longer mortal flesh, he turned to a creature of ice and hatred, animated only by the bitter desire to destroy. As his first act in the service of Darkness, Wurlim Frostking cast down the Necromancer who had commanded the Undead army and took his place as well as his head. With countless minions now at his beck and call, he made haste to the Font. But as the last of Lumayans fell and Wurlim cut his way through to the arcane nexus, he saw it encased in ice that would not break no matter what spells or weapons were used against it. Nor did he find the Stag Knight and the other Champions to whom he owed a debt of retribution. With a bellow of rage that shattered glaciers, the Frostking vowed that he would not rest until the Font was desecrated and the Winterlands belonged to Siroth. No matter how many lifetimes it would take.