Har’koa

**Har'koa** is the patron god of the hunt and hunters revered by the ice trolls. As a Nama'kai of the Emneraki, his effigy is that of a blind snow leopard with six paws and a mane of pure white fur, devoid of any marks. At times he is depicted as a troll instead, wearing a white blindfold and tattoos of the two moons on his cheeks.

His symbol is in fact that of a waning crescent on a black field, with a full moon looming above.

## Myth

### **Birth and Rise**

Like some of the other Nama'kai, legends about the birth of Har'koa abound. He is often considered to be the younger among the elder gods, but due to his reclusive and solitary nature, he may have existed far longer than any could know.

The tale that is most often told is that Har'koa was born orphan in a secluded alcove during a great snowstorm. Alone, he was doomed to die. He cried out and his voice drew a pack of snow leopards to him. But though he was at their mercy, the leopards did not slay him, for a blanket of impenetrable ice was draped over the newborn and they could not harm him. So it seemed that his sad fate had moved the gods as well; Ofasa, God of Gifts, intervened to stay his death, blessing the leopards so they would never again feel hunger and bidding them to tend to the young Har'koa.

The leopards obeyed and reared Har'koa as if he were one of their cubs. They taught him to speak the tongue of beasts, they taught him to stalk over the snows as silently as one of their own, and hunt like a hunter of the pack. As Har'koa grew bigger, and stronger, he grew prouder and bolder. He was no longer satisfied with giving chase only to what the leopards braved to hunt, and soon he dared for bigger quarry. His search led him far to the north, where he found a mammoth, a son of the Loa of Mountains. Never before had anyone sought, let alone dreamed, of felling one of the giant beasts, as too great and mighty were they thought to be. But Har'koa stalked one down brazenly, he laid a trap by luring the mammoth to a lake of ice hidden by snow, and when he stepped upon it, he fell and was snared in the freezing waters. Thus Har'koa feathered him in arrows till his quiver was empty, he thrust his spear till it broke against his hide, and slashed his swords till they shattered against his enormous tusks; for despite the trap, the mammoth was still the most dangerous foe Har'koa had ever battled.

Weary and bloodied, Har'koa was commanded to relent his mad pursuit by the mammoth, but instead he grinned a terrible grin and spoke out:

> *"Son of the Gods! I see the flicker in your eyes, I hear the fear in your voice, I watch your blood mingle with the snows. Your strength ebbs, your courage fades, and tonight I shall dine on your flesh ere your heart beats its last!"*
>
>

Hours passed as the two continued their duel, Har'koa cast aside his broken weapons and fought with fang and claw, and the mammoth, knowing that he would have no mercy, brought down all the power his father had given him. But as the day drew to a close, the mammoth had bled too greatly from a hundred and hundred wounds and he could no longer resist the hunter. So Har'koa climbed victoriously atop his back, and kept his promise. With that single act, more than any other, Har'koa had not only become the first to ever slay such a grand prey, but he had also earned his godhood, and his title as God of the Hunt.

### **God of the Hunt**

As a Loa, Har'koa broadened his sights to new horizons, hunting all things that populated the earth, wild beasts and otherwise. Magnataur, tuskarr, even trolls he slew as sport in his wake, wiping out whole tribes purely for his amusement. Then one night, as he piled the spoils of his victories, Har'koa was pierced by a harpoon through his back. To his immense astonishment, the trolls had come for him, and as they riddled his body with axes and arrows, they cried for vengeance, vowing they would strip him of his hide and make ornaments of his entrails. Har'koa laughed madly with joy and battle-lust and in a heartbeat defeated his foes, though he did not kill them, for he was deeply pleased and near to awe at the trolls.

Never in his life had any creature hunted him, and the bravery of the trolls reminded him of his own. Above that, they achieved something even more unlikely: they had tracked Har'koa, and entered his den without drawing his notice and they struck at him without fear. These things all pleased him, thus for their skill Har'koa took these young trolls as the first of his disciples, and from them he also learned something he should have expected. Their vengeance was spurred on by the God of Mountains, whose son Har'koa had slain and eaten, and knowing this Har'koa took even greater pleasure in making Mam'toth's disciples into his own.

But after such a slight, Har'koa decided he had supped enough on Mam'toth's rage, and that to war with the other gods would bore him and distract him from his hunts. So he gathered his new followers, and as he taught them all he knew of the hunt, they embarked on their first one by the god's side. They tracked the spawn of Mor'thek, the gargantuan spiders that the other gods fought and banished during the First Aroda, who still lurked, hidden across the world, but Har'koa made it his quest to find them and hew them down to the last. This hunt was the greatest the world had yet seen, for many more trolls saw Har'koa and chose to join him in scouring the lands of Mor'thek. Many years would pass, until Har'koa would finally drive the giant spiders to extinction and by doing so, find a truce with Mam'toth.

Victorious once more, Har'koa returned to his den with his now veteran hunters, who numbered in the thousands. Around his den they built a sprawling city, and called it Tubul to honour their first prophet. From there Har'koa looked with pride at his many trophies, at his growing number of worshippers, and the temples built in his name. He looked and smiled with the assurance in his heart that his legend could only grow ever larger as it had thus far, for defeat was still unknown to him, and so surely it would always be, for nothing in his reckoning could overshadow his greatness.

### **The Chase for a Goddess**

There came a time Har'koa thought he had hunted all the earth had to offer, his home was adorned with mammoth tusks and muskox heads, caribou antlers and arachnathid stingers; eagle wings, leopard pelts, seal skin and walrus leather, and even the heads of three troll kings, the skeleton of a magnataur chieftain and the withered carrion of Mor'thek's spawn. He feared he would have no new thrill for his hunts, when his disciples came to him with tidings of a new wonder: not a prey, but a hunter, and a god, just like him, who slew his disciples with impunity.

Har'koa was more amused and intrigued than enraged, he wished to see this so-called god, who had the gall to style himself with Har'koa's own title, perhaps he may even prove a worthy match and Har'koa would finally battle again against an equal as he had not done since his youth. He tracked his foe down, and this was easy, for he left much bloodshed in his wake and made no effort to conceal his movements. He found him at last, sitting cloaked on the edge of a frozen waterfall, and around him were the corpses of Har'koa's disciples. It was then he noticed they had not been slain by an enemy's arrow or blade, by fang nor claw: they had ended their lives by thrusting their swords in their own guts.

> *"What trick is this?" Har'koa questioned as the wind howled with his mighty voice "No work of a hunter I would dishonour name."*
>
>

> *"Why?" Spoke the sitting figure, and at once Har'koa was stunned, for it was a wily woman's voice who spoke to him "They loved me more than theirs, loved me more than you, and a hunt for love is a hunt nonetheless."*
>
>

At the absurdity of what she uttered, Har'koa could not help but laugh, and his amusement grew in equal measure with his fascination. There she was, a woman with a fiery spirit to match his own. He reached out to seize her at once, eager to make her his, but she grinned at him and his fingers grasped only feathers, as the woman had turned herself into a long-tailed falcon and flew past his reach. Har'koa roared with joy, now the hunt was truly beginning.

He pursued her to the highest peaks and the lowest dells, through the plains of the tundra and across the frozen wastes, and each time he was about to claim her, she took a different shape, and another hunt began anew. Har'koa was beyond delighted by this sport. Each time he found her again, she revealed something more of who she was. He learned that her name was *Quetz'lun*, that she was the Loa of Cunning and that she hailed from the lands to the west, where rose the troll city of Lan'kar, there she heard his name from his disciples, and wished for nothing more than to meet Har'koa. At this, Har'koa suggested she surrendered, yet to his pleasure, she scoffed and taunted him on another hunt.

So it went, until Quetz'lun lured Har'koa back to his own lands, and this was a daring move indeed, for Har'koa knew that territory like the palm of his own hand. Still, Quetz'lun managed to elude him, and he lost her tracks. By this, Har'koa was not disheartened, assured that he would find her again, and soon take her at last. He allowed himself a brief moment of reprieve in his den, unaware that in a nook of his own home, Quetz'lun sat, watched him and wove her scheme.

### **Voyage through the Heavens**

When Har'koa awoke, he was met by his prophet, who had sharpened his axe, filled his quiver and forged him a new spear, and with these he brought bitter news. Quetz'lun who had evaded him thus far, was now standing in plain sight, but with her was another, a corpulent god who showered her in gifts, and in return, she gifted him with a kiss, a token of her love. Har'koa was infuriated, feeling that she had driven him to hunt in vain, making a mockery of his godhood.

He was ready to slay this gifting god and teach Quetz'lun a harsh lesson in toying with a leopard's tail, but his prophet cautioned him to be patient as in truth, that very same god was now coming towards Har'koa's den, to shower him in gifts just as he had Quetz'lun. Confused, Har'koa waited, for if nothing else, it would make his hunt an easy matter.

From the entrance to his home, there came the stranger, fat and hairy, with four tusks and a boar's snout and a golden belly. It was Ofasa, the Loa of Boons, who had come to bring gifts to all of the Nama'kai. To Har'koa, whom he greeted with great wonder, seeing him for the first time since he was a child, he offered his teeth, so that the edge of his fangs could cut through anything they bit. Har'koa, grim and of terrible humour, refused. So Ofasa offered him with another gift, then another, and another, until he had offered Har'koa all he had offered to the other gods. Still, Har'koa refused and spoke thus:

> *“Any who walk within my den I brand as my prey. Thus, Ofasa! I shall have you whole or not at all!”*
>
>

Ofasa, never known for his great courage, fled at once. Har'koa did not care about Ofasa's generosity, or that when Har'koa himself was a babe, Ofasa had saved his life. He had slighted him, meandered where he shouldn't have and Har'koa now wished him dead. Ofasa was slow and clumsy and lacked any wit. He stumbled into all of Har'koa's blows and traps, he was unable to evade even a single one of his arrows. Yet where injuries were wrought upon Ofasa, pure gold came to mend his wounds. It meant Har'koa had to slay him with a single, great enough blow, and since Ofasa was a god, it was not as easy as he had hoped.

Worse, when Ofasa was cornered against the feet of a mountain, he looked in desperation to the clouds and fled into the sky. But Har'koa was too strong, too proud, too great to accept defeat, no matter the odds. Even Quetz'lun manifested, and for the moment he was willing to tolerate her, as she urged Har'koa to follow his deepest instincts. He began to follow Ofasa's step and climbed the heavens behind him. He was a god of the earth, a Nama'kai, and this was forbidden to him. But it was too late, he was too wrathful, too enraptured by this magnificent hunt. As he stretched out a hand into the clouds, Har'koa was able to take a thunderbolt in his own palm, and the power that now flowed in his arm was unmatched. He hurled the thunder at Ofasa and the gold on his body shined back blindingly bright, as Ofasa's belly had become the sun and that hunt had become the first daybreak.

This time however, Ofasa was truly wounded, his blood splattered on Har'koa's lips and he could taste another world opening itself to him. He would become a god greater than a hunter of earth's creatures, all the dwellers of the sky would become his prey. The spirits of the stars, the drakes and the dragons, the very gods themselves, all his quarry and no-one to match him. As he readied another blow against Ofasa, a hand came from far above and it lunged at his throat.

Har'koa felt himself lifted higher by someone who was not only his match, but who overpowered him many times over. Hapless, hapless for the very first time since he was a babe saved by Ofasa's kindness, he flailed and lost his weapons. Gadesa, one of the eight fathers of trollkind, father of Ofasa and seventh son of Zaradan, held Har'koa aloft with a hand and with the other, he clawed his fingers into Har'koa's eyes.

> *"Too long have we suffered you to fatten upon your hubris. You have slain with impunity, taken that which was not yours to take and in your madness unchecked you have grown to folly. In your mind a disease has crept, and today I cure you of it! Be cast back to your earth and toil there forevermore!"*
>
>

The God of the Hunt was thus blinded, as his blood rained from the sky, and his screams filled the winds. Har'koa was discarded and thrown away, to plummet back to his den in Tubul. With Har'koa's divine eyes in his hand, Gadesa made the two moons of the world and for his son's foolishness, he had the moons chase him across the sky each day, so that his lesson would be eternal.

Har'koa was diminished and embittered, he was left a shamble of what he once was, slinking in the shadows of the caverns broken and scarred, but from there he also learned humility and was taught to honour the high gods of the sky. He was allowed to retain his cult and his worshippers, continuing to teach and bless the trolls in the way of the hunt. Somewhere in the recesses of his heart, however, Har'koa still yearns to one day claim Quetz'lun, the greatest among his prizes, for if fate ever favours him again, he will hunt one grand, final time, with no gods left to keep him from his quarry a second time.

So ends the tale of Har'koa the Blind, God of the Hunt.

## Worship

It is so believed that all those who dedicate themselves to the hunt whether by bow, or spear, or bare fang are in deed, if not in name, disciples of Har'koa. The God of the Hunt blesses those who enact his art, and hunters in turn give him thanks for bountiful prey, and they may pray to him afore and thereafter the hunt's end. Offerings are given unto him also, oft in carved bones hewn from the spoils of a hunt, or in decorated trophies placed at his altar.

From ancient time, sects of the priesthood have adhered to Har'koa, styling themselves thusly as Harakai. These acolytes, recognised by the white leopard coats they don, strive to maintain the teachings of Tubul, the very first troll prophet of Har'koa. In their duties, they foretell the migrations of herds, so that hunters may know when to hunt for them; they bless hunting gear and bestow hunters with sacred paint before they embark on their journey. They are trackers most excellent, able to scry the location of many things with uncanny precision. The most zealous of the Harakai go as far as ritually blinding themselves to emulate their patron deity, earning great favour from Har'koa, who sharpens the priests' senses to be as mighty as his own in exchange for their sight.

The temple city of Atal'Harak, within Zul'Drak, is consacrated to Har'koa. Within it there are many walled groves where snow leopards are kept and given liberty to hunt as they please. The Harakai, as well as other trolls, venture within them when beseeching Har'koa's gifts.

Lastly, Har'koa is also considered a symbol in his pursuit for love. In ice troll weddings, the groom may wish to gift a snow leopard's pelt to his wife as a demonstration of profound affection.