FN Laacher See 🗻

"Not quite a spirit--but a new thing, the feeling of the earth's mourning and love for her mortal granddaughter."

Level 01: (495) 495 - 120/87/87/109/92
Level 01: (558) 571 - 160/87/96/109/119 (adult)
Level 05: (589) 601 - 172/91/100/112/126
Level 10: (669) 697 - 210/104/109/125/149
Level 15: (799) 868 - 297/120/126/141/184



The earth had witnessed all of the drama that transpired within the mortal realm: her son, the lava, running away from home to be with the celestials' daughter, the sky. They had believed erroneously that by hiding away on the earth itself, she would not be able to see them. In fact, she had seen it all from the even the time of the first Lykaon, her first granddaughter--the one who was cursed to live a mortal life by her lovestruck parents. And now, even a new spirit, the wind, who should have been born within the immortal realm was imprisoned in a flesh body through the naivete of the young spirits of lava and sky.

As the earth wept, mourning the loss of her newest granddaughter, her tears formed into yet another creature--one not unlike the lava itself. This creature however was free to be simply exist. She sprung forth from the magma, fiery streaks and thundercracks announcing her arrival into the mortal realm. Not quite a spirit herself, but more of a feeling--a feeling of love and hatred both locked in combat and inseparable as if a caress to last through the lifetimes. This creature called herself Laacher See.

When other wolves looked upon her, although she seemed alluring, her eyes, slit like that of a snake's, burned nightmares into their hearts and prevented them from ever truly enjoying another night's sleep. This wolf they called a demon--something with a flaming pelt and eyes that revealed a wolf's fears and manifested them. This demon seemed to linger in the bogland where the former Lykaon Swiftflame had laid to rest many nameless pups.

It was said that if wolves listened closely enough, the whimpers of those forgotten youths still beckoned for a wolf to call them by their names.

In truth, Laacher See simply lived in the bogland for it was where she felt most at home. From there she could see central Red Ridge, which had been incased in now frozen lava, a blackened husk that was formerly green and lush. The new Lykaon, Lykaon Etesian, had moved the seat of power to a secondary location while Red Ridge itself recovered. The wolves who now followed Lykaon Etesian feeling more comfortable in their new leader's decisions and honoring her with their loyalty.

--

Exploring the catacombs left by the lava many centuries before, Laacher See came upon a tomb, marked by a helmet scarred by many years of fighting--thousands of years if you believed in myths. There, beside the helmet, the shriveled husk of a wolf whose pelt once struck fear into hundreds of thousands of wolves, grayed and covered in carbon dust. It was Swiftflame, whose fate had been unknown to the masses.

So here he was laid to rest? Killed here? At the very least, Laacher See considered that the former Lykaon Swiftflame had been tried for his crimes against the innocent souls that were rumored, at least at times, to have been set free... or still haunted the lands. The wolves of Red Ridge were easily confused and often contradictory and steeped in their mythos of their immortal "gods." Laacher See, herself one of those so called "immortals," who had leaped down from her perch in the immortal realm to the mortal one, felt pity for those wolves who could not know the knowledge of centuries before they existed.

"A fitting end to a fire who has exhausted all of its fuel," Laacher See said quietly. Her words seemed to summon the spirit of Lykaon Swiftflame--a soul who had neither family nor friend to call him home.

He appeared as though a youngster, before he slayed his own mother, and before he knew hatred of the weak. "Have you seen my mother?" He whimpered, unsteady on his paws. The piercing yellow of his gaze seemed to have lost its cutting edge, now that he had no true form.

Laacher See, a bit surprised, beckoned the soul--careful to withhold its name. "Come, little one, I know where your mother lies."

--

She brought him to the bogland where a few souls lingered. Each of them knew their Lykaon. And each of them named him. "Lykaon Swiftflame!" they said in a chorus, mobbing the uncertain adolescent. Unfortunately being named by a lost soul was not the equivalent of being called home.

"My name is Swiftflame Silvermane, like my mother before me," he wailed as those lingering souls tore at his own. "Grayfoot Silvermane--the Lykaon of Red Ridge--my mother. You! You said she would be here," he cried.

Laacher See looked on, feeling the vindication of those lost souls who at last were freed of their own guilt of not having been strong enough to be named. So the last of the former Lykaon's soul was torn to pieces and recycled into the ether, never to be recalled by family or friends.

--

Laacher See traveled on, now that the last of the lingering souls had been set free. The wolves who saw her emerge from the bogland, unscathed by those things they believed haunted the land, whispered about her, and those stories traveled for leagues.

—

As the Lykaon's Advisor, Laacher See found herself in control of the young Lykaon. The way the Lykaon of Red Ridge seemed to pause and sputter before her, Laacher See saw. She even openly defied her and got away. The Wind Spirit was weak.

As a child of the Earth, not quite spirit, Laacher See saw that the lonely Wind Spirit was drawn to her. Even Laacher See was sure that the earth itself laughed at the Lykaon. She was a plaything… pretending to be a mortal as decisive as Lykaon Swiftflame who preceded her. Who cared that her parents were the weak willed lava and sky? Her lineage was tainted by their silly ways.

Laacher See knew that the Lykaon had more doubt in her heart than she cared to admit.

—

"Etesian." The call of her name without title echoed in the tunnel, and Etesian rounded on the speaker who dared throw away tradition. There she saw Laacher See, the wolf who constantly defied her. Deep in her soul, the spirit howled to put that miscreant down.

"Laacher See," she responded in petty turn.

"The common wolves can feed themselves but long for their fertile homelands. The dark mountain range in the distance disturbs them."

Etesian snorted enough wind to cover Laacher See's coat in dust. "Those wolves don't understand that returning to those foothills means starvation. Here there is water and prey." Etesian's maw upturned into a snarl. How dare this outsider confront her. While true the water was cool, the prey was stringy and lean. Back in Red Ridge Proper, the prey was gone and the rivers had turned into dust--destroyed by the lava. It would take time for the land to heal.

"Bring the wolves' concern to me." As if those words tamed Etesian, her snarl turned weak. She thought better of her actions. Laacher See approached her, her hot breath on the Lykaon's neck. "Lykaon, they simply do not comprehend. You need to reassure them." Playing the part of advisor suited Laacher See.

The Lykaon once again felt flustered and turned away, unable to accept her advances. "Fine," the leader of Red Ridge spat like an ignorant child.

As the leader stomped off, Laacher See watched with great interest. If only she could be close to the Earth and share such drama. "My Lykaon," she whispered under her breath.

It seemed Etesian was the weakest Lykaon in generations.

—

Laacher See slept in a communal den area at the guards' request. A holdover from the era before. Never keep your Lykaon and their advisor in the same den, lest there be a would-be assassin. Laacher See pouted to herself, though outwardly appeared stoic. Here the common wolves—mortals of the longest lineages—stayed and amongst them, Laacher See felt bored.

Exiting the sleeping place, Laacher See saw went to the surface world, sand meeting her paws. It was dark and the moon bathed the desert is a sterling white light. She could see tiny creatures scurrying from place to place. The desert was alive, unlike during the day.

Laacher See basked in the moonlight and eyed the spirit's husk. He still seemed to be somewhere on the earth with his lovers she supposed. What fickle ancients.

Quietly, Laacher See remembered the anguish the earth felt when the moon decided to love the others instead of her. That fiery rage birthed the lava—not quite Laacher See's brother. She took a deep breath and sighed. Did the earth even know she was alive?

She supposed it didn't matter. The earth only knew hatred for living things because their short lives were tragic. Maybe it was that the earth was scarred from loss… even those living things' spirits left her to live with the sky. The earth had nothing of her own, nothing as solid and lingering as she was.

Laacher See felt the same. Alone.

The common wolves looked at her and saw in equal parts a wolf who stood above them in rank and a demon. She knew every wolf by name, and they all knew her, but they often felt unnerved with her company. Even in the common den, they gave her space.

Where other wolves had memories of soft bellies to nestled up against, Laacher See knew the hard packed earth or, on occasion, soggy moss in a tree's roots. Even this desert sand, giving up its last holds on the sun's warmth, was more comfort than she had ever received in her sudden youth.

When she wandered the deserted parts of Red Ridge, hiding from other wolves, she had been burdened by feelings and stained by the looks others gave her. She remembered once when a wolf attacked her, scarring her back. It was hard to see now with her mottled fur which had grown in thick, but sometimes Laacher See felt the ache of the attacker's fangs upon her.

She remembered his snarl, and she remembered how she stood against him and ripped off his ear. That was when the rumors of a spirit in the boglands started.

Truly, Laacher See was simply lonely. She was drawn to the Lykaon because of the wind spirit's otherworldly presence. That the Lykaon wasn't afraid to look her in the eye. For so many reasons, but maybe because Laacher See sensed an overwhelming loneliness in the Lykaon.

Nonetheless, the Lykaon hated her. Like every other wolf, deep in their hearts.

Laacher See took in a deep breath and roared. Her anger rushing out, bleeding into the earth as she scratched uselessly at the sand, the clay beneath it caked onto her paws.

After a moment, Laacher See stopped and composed herself.

There was a thin line on the horizon, the sun was coming up.

—

Laacher See greeted the other wolves, bringing in a pronghorn deer that she had taken down for them. They praised her catch and deferred to her presence. Not a single one made eye contact.

She left them to feast and decided to go exploring, to deep within the earth. To be as close as possible to that which had rejected her.

The wolves of Red Ridge were great industrialists and the deepness of the tunnels truly lent credibility to their strength as a pack. Laacher See could not remember another pack in the history of the earth to have scarred it so deeply.

Finally, Laacher See came to a dead end. The air here was so still and faintly moist. It would have been oppressively dark if not for the strangely blue moss clinging to the wall. From the dig marks, Laacher See knew this place was discovered rather than made.

"Can you hear me?" Laacher See said without hesitating.

No one was around. The last wolf she had seen had been hours ago as she wandered deeper into the earth. Who she was looking for wasn't quite clear even to herself.

"I must be losing it," she half joked to herself.

Laacher See could have sworn she felt a cool breeze coming off the rock. A pebble fell from the wall, a wad of glowing moss stuck on it. Laacher See couldn't see anything that might have dislodged it, and nothing moved.

Seemingly from the pebble, a voice spoke, "I know you."

Laacher See felt fear.

Her fur slicked down against her body, but her legs wouldn't move.

"I know what you are." The pebble seemed to project a ghostly form. Spirits weren't a problem for Laacher See, but this thing seemed… more ancient. "A new creature. How novel. Soon I will claim your soul all the same." The voice wasn't malicious, just sort of matter of fact.

"How soon?" Laacher See managed to muster through her paralyzed body.

"Soon as defined by spirits," the voice said, a hint of good nature. "For now, leave. There is nothing for you here."

As the pebble grew dim, the hold over her body dissipated, and Laacher See obeyed. She didn't feel fear anymore, just anticipation.

—

Laacher See kept the encounter to herself and tasked wolves with closing off that dead end with another. They were not to expose any more glowing moss, though they had already began cultivating it for light in the darker tunnels.

She felt concerned, maybe she should let the Lykaon know? Though the Lykaon had been on an expedition to Red Ridge proper to survey how the land was recovering. The news, she supposed, would have to wait until the Lykaon's return. Laacher See was in charge in her stead.

"Advisor Laacher See!" A wolf called to her, alarm in his voice.

A wolf was dead. Found deep in the earth. There was no sign of a struggle or even sign of weakness. This was a wolf who was part of the First Party—a wolf who represented the strongest amongst Red Ridge. How could he have died?

"Bring him to the surface. We must prepare to call him home."