The Whispers of Waldemar
In the wide, white wastes of northern Magnum Opus, there exists a roaming specter, an armless man strapped onto a half-decayed horse, forever dragging along five bundles of corpses wrapped in still-bleeding hides and bone chimes that sound off the arrival of the rider. If one should come across the venturing man, and all five bundles are not full, they must run for their lives to the nearest spot of torchlight, lest they be used to fill the rider's bags.
If a traveler is already carrying a torchlight and a blade of iron or steel, then the rider shall pay them no mind, and they might even hear whispers of knowledge pass his lips before he leaves. Yet, if they linger on too long, then they will be captured all the same.
Summary
On a harsh blizzard night, two villages within the north of what is now Magnum Opus had gone to war with each other, an act of violent desperation of the cruel cold. Both of the villages were small, having only about ten warriors apiece, and either out of rage, exhaustion, or awful fate, all but one of the warriors died on that snow-covered field.
The remaining warrior was an old hunter known as Waldemar the White, for his pale skin and aged hair. He was the last one remaining and was determined to bring his villagers home. However, by the time he had found his horse, four of the warriors of his village were covered in the snow. In an act of desperation, Waldemar used his skills with leatherworking to skin five of the enemy villages warriors, wrapped the five in their skins, which still bled as if freshly cut, and rode his horse to exhaustion to get back to the village.
Before he was able to make it back, however, there was one enemy villager who was not dead yet and used the last of their strength to fire two arrows at Waldemar while he was distracted, landing both into his shoulders.
But, on that cold night, Waldermar did make it back to his village, trailing a streak of red along his path, his horse rotted away from the exhaustion, and himself dead on its saddle.
The townsfolk buried him and their fallen warriors but were warry about paying their respects to him to ensure a peaceful passing, as while death was a necessity, skinning the fallen enemies, no matter the reason, was grotesque, and in the eyes of those who worshiped the True Giants, not along the cycle of life.
This has cursed the spirit of Waldemar to ever roam the lands, repeating the last ride home, but he will never make it back home if he doesn't find the five bodies to fill the bags, and travelers know to be wary of the red path of the snow, the sound of whispers, and the chime of bone charms.
Historical Basis
Historically, there is a record of the first half of the tale. During a skirmish between villages for resources in a rough winter, all sides lost their warriors except for Waldemar, who only survived long enough to make it home. However, in recorded history, the five warriors he brought back were wrapped in prepared deer-skins, and he was supposedly given the proper rites.
Along with that, the tale seems to be much more cautionary than anything, as the ways to fend off Waldemar's attention is with a torch and a weapon, which everyone who wanders the snowfields at night should have, and also warns of the Red Snow Paths which have two origins. First, bleeding warriors after a battle, if you're not a warrior you should stay away from blood tracks in case they attract animals or remaining fighters. Secondly, sometimes before a piece of ground opens up the minerals underneath will produce a red, iron-like pigment to the snow. Staying too long on top of one could risk the ground opening underneath you and trapping you inside.
Spread
The spread of this myth is mostly maintained in the vast snowy plains to the north of Magnum Opus where the wind whispers through their hollow trees and strange naturally-forming ice tunnels, along with the occasionally shifting ground that creates the red paths in the snow.
Date of First Recording
625 AC
Date of Setting
418 AC
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