Throughout Xenara lesser deities of lupine frame have been present since time immemorial. Tribes and nomads around the world have different stories for each of the hunter gods except for one thing, the tenacity and unrelenting focus of each deity are known. The Cani always have destruction in these stories whether they are the cause of it or not. They are believed to be primal essences incarnate.

Within every fire, there is an insatiable and gluttonous greed. A simple and pure predatory urge to consume, feast, and burn until nothing is left. Wood, flesh, and metal alike bow before the furious supremacy of the flame. The Ashen Wolf is a physical manifestation of this terrible hunger. Some call it a fiend from the blackest pit, others call it an elemental creature. Enlightened sages call it an Alrisen, placing it among the greatest of beings below the gods themselves. Nevertheless, it is living, it is hungry, and it burns for the thrill of the hunt.

Those who have laid eyes upon the Wolf and lived describe it as a being of unquestionable presence. It is a massive lupine creature with eyes like the fires of a burning home, fur that smolders in the dark, a cloak of smoky ash, teeth of sharpened steel that gleam in the light, and a deep voice that carries like the whisper of a struck match in a quiet forest. While the Wolf is ever-hungry, it seeks more than mere meat. It hungers for conflict, companionship, and the freedom to roam and burn. Often surrounded by fire elementals, it hunts the forests of the world for ancient beasts, cunning prey, and lost wanderers.

The Ashen Wolf is known to the mortal races from the stories told of those who have gone to entreat this beast, begging for aid, power, or control over their own destiny. The Wolf is known to grant these requests, but the price for this boon is cruel and terrible by all accounts. The Wolf delights in the suffering of mortals it does not consider within its pack, and thus payment often comes in the form of a curse that plagues the supplicant forevermore. Those that survive often regret their decision, in the end.

The ground tremors violently as roots and trees begin to sprout from it, cracking the earth open and engulfing the terrain. Within only a few hours, what used to be a village, a town, or even a barren land devoid of plantation has turned into a lush, primeval forest with huge, ancient trees that extends in a radius of many miles. Somewhere within this sacred forest, gracefuly winding through the woods like a shadow, lies its apex predator - nature’s most fearsome warden and the incarnation of its wrath.

It is said that Bandur’s existence is connected to the forest in which it dwells. Its tail, formed by roots, twigs and branches is tethered to the earth, sprouting anew and rebranching rapidly as it moves. This lifegiving tether sustains and allows Bandur to regenerate from any wound. Legends say, if Bandur is destroyed, the forest is bound to wither away and decay into a gruesome blight, devoid of life.

Bandur embodies the true spirit of nature, taking form by its own will to defend itself against those who would see it plagued and destroyed. It usually assumes the form of a plant-like, gigantic wolf that can nimbly shift into tree and emerge from another, erect from the earth like a root and stampede the ground with the might of a thousand horses. As it exhales, it breathes out vines, leaves as well as a species of the most venomous insects that can be found in the entire kingdom of nature.

Bandur, the Primordial Wolf is longing for a hunt. As soon as you step into its domain, there is no place to run or hide - for it is now onto your scent.

Once upon a time, there was a magnificent creature born out of the purest essence of being watchful. Virtuous like no other, the creature wanted to be a sentinel of all sacred and holy across the multiverse, guarding even its darkest, most forlorn corners. It thought its excellence in moderating the divine to know no bounds. But as vanity burns brighter, virtue begins to fade. The gods have punished the creature for its folly, they have bounded the Cani deity with Gleipnir, the holy chains that can tether the undivining hunter. Over time its hate of unwatched holiness grew and so did the excess of divinity. It began planning its escape and it did so by harnessing the power of Gleipnir. Now, it controls its prison and it has started its hunt.

Nothing rivals the devastation and havoc wreaked upon the gods by Fenrisulfr. It is the Godkiller, the Destroyer of the Divine, the incarnation of the unholy wrath incarnate. Forged by flames and ashes or smitten by thunderbolts and crackles of lightning, the calamity that precedes its appearance matches the hateful wrath of the Cani deity that has unleashed it upon the world.

The Godkiller's nature is dubious, for nothing and no god has witnessed its wake and survived to tell the tale. Some sagas have it slumbering deep inside the bowels of the earth, at the core of the world. Commanded by a its own internal hate for prideful and excessive divine beings, its awakening causes the doubt and fear of even mightiest of gods. Then, the hunter emerges from below, its blood stains the earth, ever dripping from its eternal wounds. Other tales picture it bound by Gleipnir, its divine chains that hold it. In any case, various cultures from across the world, the people of which may have never even interacted with one another, speak of the death of the gods by its name; Namely as the Godfall, assumed to be brought by the time when the Godkiller has achieved the pinnacle of its power.

The drums of war echo from forgotten battlefields. Cries of men and women who have bled and fought upon these grounds resound through time and space. Their voices are distant, yet demanding of remembrance. As their deeds awaken and the chorus of savagery reaches its pinnacle, he appears through the mists. Rulfjaskt, a hulking, glorious titan hunter among mortals is marching into war for the hunt. As it halts and howls, the visages of the fallen warriors fade and their voices are commanded into silence. Its vigorous gaze narrows down upon you. Before you, stands the Scorned - the true image of martial perfection. The Victor of a Thousand Battles is here for one purpose alone, and that is to destroy you.

With every wound and every blow sustained upon the field of battle, its power grows stronger. The pain it suffers ignites its fury and steels its determination, further fueling the hunt in this war. As its enemies employ everything they’ve got in their arsenal in order to bring it down to its heels, the Cani deity remains unyielding, lashing out with increasingly honed reflexes, reaping through their ranks like a harvester. Empowered through conflict, it is the Grand Hunter. Refined savagery. Such is the nature of war, such is the nature of its hunt.

There are ancient things that dwell within the deep darkness of the world, watching those who live on the world with curiosity and envy. Among them, there is a hunter known as the Possessed Seer – a hulking Cani deity of great prophetic wisdom and greater madness that stared into the infinite layers of the Abyss in search for ancient knowledge. It swims through the underground and with its eyesight, the light of the sun is painful to its sensitive oculars. Thus, it waits for a time when a period of darkness comes as it emerges from its domain, ever hungry for the secrets once thought lost.

The Maddened Seer is a jealous hunter, ever vigilant for another prize. Traveling convoys carrying artifacts and treasures often draw its attention, as it will invade the dreams of the couriers to drive them into its clutches. The beast shall call forth an unnatural darkness and emerge from its home, grasping and dragging everything down into the deep recesses of the earth to add to its collection. Its lairs are littered with countless wrecks and ruins of civilizations long lost to time, and it decorates its many lairs with the weapons of those sent to slay it and the treasures they sought to protect. The Maddened Seer uses magic to preserve and place the pieces of its collection that are still living in suspended animation, keeping them alive and aware of their surroundings even as they are trapped and unable to act, blinded by the dark. The horror of this is beyond description, driving even stalwart souls mad.

Those who survive but are not worthy of collection are marked by the Maddened Seer, who entraps them in servitude by forcing them to relive death after terrible death in their dreams, only relenting when they agree to serve. It will erase the memories of the torments they have suffered, sealing them behind an accursed black mark hidden upon one’s soul. Nevertheless, it will continue to seek out these unfortunate chosen in their sleeping hours, taking knowledge from their minds in exchange for information relating to the goals it wishes them to pursue.