How the Shifters Came to Be


Long ago before humans roamed the Bolermos, there were only beasts and monsters. The beasts were free thinking, sentient creatures, and while they were primitive by our standards, they still formed societies and could speak in the tongue of the forest, from that which we know as Sylvan is descended.

It came to be that a couple of these tribes, the lions led by Humboro Razorclaw, and the wolves, led by Naima Longtooth, began to watch the elves with jealousy. The elves knew that the animals could talk and sometimes would trade stories of each other’s clan to one another. To this day elves retain the ability to more easily communicate with animals than other races. The animals were fascinated with their ability to use tools and weapons; their hands never ceased to amaze them. Humboro and Naima went to see the heron Escal. It was to him they usually went for insight and gain, as he could speak with forest spirits that they had lost touch with.

“Escal,” started Humboro, “we want to have weapons and tools to make our lives easier like that of the elves. Their tribes flourish while ours simply maintain.”

“My pack runs fast, but not as fast as the arrows they shoot with their bows. If we could use those my family could eat all winter with no worries,” chimed in Naima.

Escal studied the faces of the leaders of the Razorclaw lions and the Longtooth wolves. His gaze pierced into them. After a few minutes of scrutiny and thought, he spoke.

“Humboro, your pride eats well. Your hunters bring down large amounts of food each year, cleaning our prairies of weakened animals. Your survival increases the strength of those you hunt. If you could hunt as our elf friends do, you would be unstoppable. The balance of the prairie would lead to your demise as much as it would those you prey on.

“Naima, your pack runs through the forests and snow with great ease. You too, help strengthen our fellow beasts. Would you so gladly trade your people’s fur, that helps you survive the harsh winters, for the bows the elves yield?”

The lion and the wolf both frowned at Escal’s wisdom, forming their rebuttals.

Naima spoke first. “My people would trade our furs to thrive, and then we could use the fur of those we eat to make new ones. We would not be cold this way.”

Humboro nodded at his friend’s suggestion. “And my people can show more restraint then you give us credit for, Heron. We would only hunt that which we need and nothing more.”

Escal again looked into them, and answered: “I have heard your requests, brothers. I shall consult with the guardians. Please meet me here again when Lady Ardea covers her eye with her great wing, and I shall tell you then what they have told me.” With that, he flew away to be closer to the gods and meditate.

When the new moon came, the lion and the wolf came to meet Escal. The heron was there, waiting. He had a stern look on his face.

“The guides have spoken with me. They have granted your request to let you walk on two legs and will give you hands. This is all they will grant; the weapons and tools will have to be acquired by yourselves. Your entire tribe will change with you. Do you accept this gift and any consequences that accompany it?”

Naima stepped forward and said “My people accept that which the guides offer. We understand that which we gain and that which we lose.” At this, the heron waived his wing, and the wolf changed into a naked creature resembling the elves, but somehow different. His skin was dark and his ears lacked a point. In fact, he was the god’s first imagining of the human race.

Humboro, excited, stepped up as well. “My pride also accepts this great gift, and will not regret doing so.” The lion, too, morphed into a similar being that the wolf had as the heron waved his wing.

“It is done, “ Escal stated, and flew off.

The naked brethren stood there for a moment, admiring their new bodies. They smiled their new grins, and both left the area to meet with their families to rejoice the change. Their joy, however, was relatively short lived. Almost as if prophecy, the tribes fell into the destinies Escal had foretold.

The Razorclaws had managed to fashion themselves spears and commanded a great number of warriors. They felled beasts three times larger than the deer they had hunted when they were lions. They found great sport in bringing all manners of animal down, reveling in how powerful the spears had made them. All of this fun, of course reduced the population of the animals around them greatly, while the Razorclaws themselves flourished and grew in numbers. They rejoiced with their growth at first, but now understood the heron’s words about restraint. As the herds moved away from the hostile region or simply neared extinction, the Razorclaw were slowly starving, and their growth now was less then before.

The Longtooths were finding life a bit difficult as well. They had learned the art of bow craft from the elves, and had become quite good at both the making and the using of their favored weapon. They had plenty of food, and the tribe flourished during the warm months. However, the winters were very harsh on them, as they could not get the same comfort out of a poorly tanned hide as they could from their old own skin. Many froze to death in the winters, and they too, were now not growing or stagnated, but moving in the other direction.

Humboro and Naima came to an agreement, and went and talked with their old friend Escal, and if they still had tails, they would have been tucked between their legs as they greeted him.

“Escal, we have done a terrible thing. You were right; my people take and take from the land and do not give it a chance to recuperate. Now instead of having stores of food, we starve,” started the once lion.

“And my people freeze in the winter without our thick coats. Had I your wisdom I never would have accepted this!”

Both looked at the heron with sadness in their eyes. Escal looked back at them.

“You both decided your tribe and family’s fate already. You were not happy with the bounty that the earth and the guardians gave, and instead only thirsted for more. And now that you have it, you are still unhappy.

“I tried to warn you of what might happen should you ask for this sort of gift, and you both relinquished the gifts you already had in trade for this new one.”

The Razorclaw and Naima leaders hung their heads in shame. “Is there nothing we can do?”

“I will talk with the guardians once again on your behalf, but I do not beg for gifts and will not plead your case if one is denied. We shall meet when Her Eye fills the sky.” Off he flew again to commune with the guides.

Naima and Humboro retreated to their homes to await the far off night. Finally, the moon rose full and they went to the Heron’s meeting place, where he was waiting without fail yet again. His mood was heavy.

“Brothers. The guardians have spoke with me and this is their decision, one that will not change, so do not ask it.

“Since you are unhappy as animals, and unhappy as men, you shall be neither. From henceforth, the Razorclaws will be stuck between lion and man, and the Longtooth’s stuck between wolf and the same. You will take some qualities from each, but will never truly be either form again."

He looked at Naima. “Longtooth. The guardians know that some of your tribe left after the decision you made to attempt life in a less harsh climate. They would like me to tell you they flourish and will be the fathers of the human race, and will stay in the form you chose for them.”

Escal paused and sighed. He waved both of his large wings, and the humans that stood before him began to change into their animal forms, and stopped less than halfway through. Their teeth and nails grew back into fangs and claws. Their hair sprouted back on their bodies, providing some cover on their bareskin. Their eyes went back to their old looks. They truly were stuck between the two parts of their former selves.

And so that which we call shifters were born, each division taking the name of the leader who made them so. Of that time of turmoil, though, the human was also born, and it should be no surprise now why it is that man and dog get along so well, as they were both descended from one and the same.

The First Wise One

When the Great Heron Goddess Ardea chose to turn the Longtooth and Razorclaw tribes into the shifters, they grew to use the tools the elves had taught them, and lived off of the land as they had before, but used weapons and farmed. They made a decent living like this, but one Longtooth among them was not happy with this new way of life. Her name was Kyla, and she was in love with a wolf.

Before the transformation brought on by the Longtooth’s, Kyla and Atoya has been deeply in love. Because Atoya’s clan had not been part of her tribe, they were untouched by the Heron Mother’s magics and lived their days as wolves still. That Kyla and her love were no longer the same did not deter her. She was determined to be with her lover one way or another.

Ardea saw into Kyla’s heart and worried for her. She called out to one of her children, the Blue Heron Escal who had aided with the tribe before. On strong wings the heron flew to her as she called, landing on a spot were her great eye cast light.

“Escal, my son. The Longtooth tribe needs your guidance. I cannot tell you why, but to them you must go, and you must go quickly.”

“Mother,” Escal replied. “I hear you and I shall obey. I do not question you, but many of Naima’s people do not hear the animals anymore. They can hear the humans who are their cousins and they can hear others like them, but it is as though animals have no voice. How am I to guide them when they are deaf to my words?”

In his heart, the heron felt the Goddess’s smile. “My child, do not fret, for I understand your words even if they do not. Go to the once wolves and you will find a way to make them listen.” Ardea covered her eye with a great wing of clouds and Escal knew the conversation to be over. He flew off, debating in his head how to make the deaf hear.

Escal came to the tribe in the morning, landing in the middle of the encampment, greeting those who passed. A few of them noticed him, but the rest went about their day. No matter, thought the heron. I have nothing to say just yet anyways. He settled in amongst them, wondering what his Goddess’s focus was. He noticed one young woman head for the surrounding forests, but thought nothing of it.

Days passed, and Escal noticed uproar in the tribe. A shifter by the name of Kuruk was screaming like a madman, asking where his daughter Kyla had run off to. The heron understood that who he was looking for must be the girl he saw run off before, and tried to speak up. No matter what he did though, his words fell on deaf ears as people walked by, ignorant of his very presence. No one else seemed to know where the chieftain’s daughter had run off to. Weeks passed without Escal being able to get one person to hear him. One evening he saw the Heron Mother’s eye and took off for a place to converse with her.

“Lady Ardea. I feel I have come to follow the path that you set for me: helping Kuruk find his daughter. But I cannot make them hear my voice. How do I make them listen?”

The response came, flooding his heart and soul with warmth. “A rock that stands in the path of the river will merely have the water run around him. But should that rock become a fish, he would swim with the river and sing with its babble. You must be as the fish, child. Only then will the river listen.” Before the heron could make further inquiry, Her eye disappeared, though the warmth within him did not. He thought long that night about what her words could mean. He understood the concept of course, but not how it applied to him. He went back to the camp to sleep on it.

The morning was full of movement. They had sent parties in the wrong direction to find Kyla, and had come back empty handed. He tried again to speak with the tribe but no one could hear. As the people coursed around him like the river does a stone, he finally understood what the Lady’s words had meant.

The heron stretched his wings out from him and stood solidly on the ground. He let his beak reach for the sky off of his elongated neck. He closed his eyes, and let the warmth he felt from the Heron Goddess filter through his every being, down to the last feather. He felt himself grow as he reached for the sky. Opening his eyes, he looked at his wings, and saw instead clawed hands. He was standing still on two feet like those around him, and was quite fleshy and naked. His nose had shrunk back into his face. His face, when he looked to the bucket of water beside him, was still stained his heron colors. He was a shifter as Longtooth’s and Razorclaw’s tribes had become, a fish that could coexist peacefully in this river of two legs, something that would be noticed and could speak the same tongue. He smiled at the Lady’s gift, not feeling it as a punishment as Naima and Humboro had. He then spoke.

“I saw your daughter run into the woods towards that direction,” Escal yelled into the commotion, pointing at the spot he had seen the woman run into. He was not surprised when everyone stopped to look at the strange heron colored shifter that stood before them. He knew they understood. Kuruk and Naima came forward, questioning all that Escal knew, hanging their heads in shame when Escal told them that the tribe could no longer speak with the animals. Within minutes, the camp had assembled a new search party in the direction he had advised of, Kuruk himself leading. “I will go with you, as I believe the Lady is not done with me just yet,” and Escal did go with them.

For days they marched. While most of the animals scattered when the tribe came through, the brave ones hung around to see what the ruckus was all about. Escal explained to them about the missing woman, and several times the word of a chipmunk or badger got them going in the right direction again.

It was finally the word of a nosy fox that gave them the most information. He told the heron shifter that he had seen the girl hanging with a wolf pack for many months now. It seemed that she was living with them and had been accepted as part of the pack. Upon hearing this translated, Kuruk grew furious. “Atoya!” was his only explanation as he ran into the direction the fox had indicated.

The sun was low in the sky when they came across the pack. A big burly gray wolf stared at them coming up the rise he stood on, and a shifter woman appeared behind him lovingly. Upon seeing Kuruk, she ran back past the crest of the hill and out of their sight, pushing the shifters seeking her into a run up the embankment.

Escal knew that if he did not intervene there could be bloodshed. He reached toward the earth, calling upon the power of the Heron Mother again as he had at the village. He felt his knees buckle and his face lengthen, and his body was suddenly warm. Looking down, he saw himself a wolf like that who stood ahead of him. In this form he hoped to be less imposing then the shifters who were currently attempting to steal Kyla away from the den she had ran into. “Are you Atoya?” He asked of the one who had stood at the summit. Before he could get an answer, two pups ran out of the mouth of the cave. Escal stared at them in disbelief.

What he saw was that which he could only call wrong. His mind was torn between if he was seeing a hairy two legged shifter, or if he was seeing a terribly deformed wolf. Atoya and Kyla had given birth to the world’s first lycanthropes, Skoll and Hati, and instantly Escal knew he was too late to prevent what Ardea had sent him to.

Kuruk was furious with his daughter. “Not only do you run away from us, you lay with a beast and give birth to monsters!” Kyla was crying, knowing she had shamed her father, but also did not want to be told she was wrong. The heron shifter took the father aside, stating he would need to speak with both Kyla and Atoya alone with the Great Heron. He transformed back into his heron self and he, the woman, the wolf, and their spawn went down to the river where the moon was shining. Her eye was merely a sad sliver in the sky, and Escal could feel her pain course through him as he spoke what she said to him.

“Atoya and Kyla, I’m sorry for all you have been through. I tried to gift your chieftains something great and you children have paid....”

Kyla fought back tears as she cut Escal and the Lady off. “We’ve had just enough of your ‘gifts’ to last a lifetime. If you want to do something for us, let us be alone with our new family.”

Escal did not hear anything for a long time, and then again the Great Heron spoke through him. “If you choose this path, remember that it cannot be undone. You never again will be able to talk to your mothers and fathers, and you also will no longer have the ability to bear children. The two you already have you may love and raise. I thought it was terrible that my animal children and my shifter children could no longer speak as cousins should. But I have seen what can happen if they can, and so from henceforth shifters and animals will not be able to speak to one another so that this may not happen again.”

Kyla was still bitter and, spit out one last sentence. “So be it. Leave us alone. We will find a god that will truly love us and not play games with our lives.” With that, the family of four left the grove, leaving Escal in the diminishing light. A storm brewed overhead, and in the crackle of the thunder, the name of the god that would lead one of their sons into evil was whispered: Malar.

“I’m sorry I have failed you Mother,” he finally said.

Escal felt again the warmth and knew she was still with him. “I am not forsaking you, my son. The tribes may not be able to speak to the animals but I still need someone who can speak to both when they will not listen to me. I need you and your children to be this person for me. You will guide the tribes, keeping them out of harm and helping them down their spiritual paths. You will not always be at their village, but you will always be with them, able to return when you are needed as I needed you today. This night, a Razorclaw will bear a child, and she will be their guide, their Wise One, as you have been the Longtooth’s. She too, will have the heron markings, so none may make false claim. You both will be filled with your individuality, your animal spirit who lets you speak with them when you otherwise would not be able to, and a common binding spirit that will keep you always linked with me, so that we may always be near when we need each other. Though you may feel as if you are always asking for my help, you have seen that I also have need of yours. Please, go to the Razorclaws and tell them of their special child.”

With this, the Heron Goddess finally sunk into a sleep as the storm fully covered her. In the distance, lightning struck, and a new child could be heard being brought into the world. Her face, much to the alarm of her parents, was covered with the markings of a Heron.