The ancient being of the lineage of Lords, Beast of the North with a silver cloak and sharp claws, was called Fenrir. The millennial White Wolf was worshiped as a god in the freezing northern lands, even before they took the name of Skutagaard from the evil lich lord.
Gigantic and majestic ancestral Wolf, incarnation of hunting and solitude, Fenrir abandoned his sleep to stand up against the extraplanar forces, which destroy and burn the trees, dig deep tunnels of the depths of Mundus to extract the lifeblood of the earth, the precious Arcane energy.
The bard’s tales say that even the Daemon Lords and the Lich Lord tremble at the ferocious grin of the wolf king, who has torn into pieces thousands of demons, keeping the Legions of the Gorge out of the pristine snowy lands. They sing that the Vengeful Spirit of the ancient Wolf God can sometimes be glimpsed on silent full moon nights.
Only the mysterious scribes of the Requiem order know the reality, and jealously guard its secret: the spirit of the Wolf rests in the firm heart of the lonely captain of the Demon Hunter, the one who bears the same name as the Beast of the North, the Hunter of Fenrir silver.