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Tamriel Data:Radr, Stag-King

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Book Information
Radr, Stag-King
Added by Tamriel Data
ID T_Bk_RadrStagKingSHOTN
Value 150 Weight 3
Skill Spear
The Tale of Radr, the Stag-King
by Anonymous

In the early days of Atmoran supremacy over the scheming Falmer, when the snow 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 such. For much of his life, he was Radr the Wanderer, for he lived a nomadic lifestyle akin to that of a snow elf (if such creatures could ever be noble and reasonable).

One fateful morning, he had been hunting a beautiful doe from across the river. Its fur looked as soft as that of a rabbit, but its frame was as large as an ox. Were he to approach this magnificent beast head on, he would surely perish. However, if he succeeded in slaying the beast, then he would have a small fortune in hide to sell, 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 taking its morning drink. Using his trusty sword-staff, its long pole topped with a blade of unknown metals, he closed the distance. Striking the doe in the neck, its head rolled down into the river and with a sizable splash, floated gently on the current. He had done it. This had been a good day.

As he began dragging his prize out from the river and into the forest, he noticed a small, shivering calf struggling to stand. It did not take Radr, wisest man in the valley, long to realize that this calf was the recent offspring of his morning's kill. Some believe that Radr carried the calf to camp with the intention of feasting on it as well, before changing his mind. However, the Radr of the songs I know would never think of harming such a defenseless creature. And so the calf was named Brumadhr, and he would grow to be the greatest elk to ever live.

Years later, Brumadhr had grown to be a steed for our wandering hero. They had fought countless battles together against goblins, trolls, and elves of malicious speech patterns. Soon, though, Radr and Brumadhr would encounter their greatest enemy yet. They had been passing through a typical mountain village in Skyrim, nothing -- you might think -- of any particular value to our story. There was, however, talk of a mysterious figure who would appear during the coldest of winter nights. This figure they described as a demon in a cloak of the tundra's gale. This did not bother Radr, as he had been through far worse situations than some brawl with a Frost Atronach. He did, however, heed their warning for the night.

Later that night, Radr awoke to a creaking in the walls of the hall where he slept. Like cackling, as if the beams themselves wished to swallow Radr into the chasm of the afterlife. Radr wisely chose to take his sword-staff with him as he left the eeriness of the hall to face the harsh blizzard outside. Though as he made it to the center of the village, the blizzard ceased. Soon there was no snowfall to be seen, not even as much as a soft breeze. He stood there, confused, before deciding to go back to sleep.

As he returned to the hall, however, a voracious and foul creature flew at him from within the building. Tackling our brave hero to the ground, the white and snarling creature declared itself "Ushiltherin". Getting a more thorough look at the vile beast, Radr knew at once that it was a Falmer that had been terrorizing the village. Unfortunately for Radr, his sword-staff had landed as he fell in a snowdrift across the street. If he was going to survive this encounter, he would need to retrieve it, and fast. As luck would have it, though, Brumadhr has witnessed the snow elf grapple and claw at Radr, and charged straight for him. Ushiltherin was knocked back with gashes across its torso, but the beast was not yet finished with its rampage. Radr dove for his trusty weapon and turned as Ushiltherin lunged, soon 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 drained from the creature's eyes, dawn slowly crept upon them. Soon after, the village awakened and bore witness to the fruit of Radr the Wanderer's slaying. In honor of his victory over that which had plagued the town, they named him king. Radr would no longer be known as the Wanderer, but instead as the Stag-King.