Wilwarin

• The Sun Church: (Friendly) Too prim and proper for our liking, but a better Crusader can't be had.
  The Church of The Helmsman: (Friendly) Every time I black out after drinking, I end up on one of their couches. No idea how it happens, I start drinking and tomorrow morning I'm in the Hall of Valor!
  The Church of Brannegarr: (Allied) Never try to match drinks or bodycounts with one. Trust me on this.
  
  
  The Church of Mysilvia: (Neutral) Once we were more friendly, but it's been very hard to get along with these ones. It's like they enjoy being arseholes now.
  The Church of The Death God: (Neutral) ...whut?
  The Church of Cyparthia: (Neutral) Great at parties, but I ain't ever seen one in a fight.
  The Church of the Quiet God: (Friendly) Ain't the party types, but they don't shy from a real fight, so it's all good.
  The Church of The War Triad: (Confounded) So....we prune them or no? I'm confused.
  
  
  The Church of Tyrannos: (Hostile) Step a) Put down the beer. Step b) Tear his head off. Step c) Resume beer.
  The Church of Ravenos: (Sworn Enemy) Don't even joke about these guys.
  The Church of Asoth Thal: (Hostile) Eh....I'm goin' with prune first, ask questions later.
  The Church of Ruhn Alesi: (Hostile) No sir. I don't like it.

The great stampede is a myth by a tribe that call themselves “The people” in their language. The legend is as follows:

A good nomadic tribe of the Northlands that fought for Justice in the bleak North was beleaguered by an invading horde of Orcs. They fought off the Orcs for many years to no avail. Refusing to leave the North in the Hands of Evil, these brave warriors continued to fight rather than retreat to the West.

The last battle was fierce. A great Orc Horde stumbled onto the weary Tribe and saw their chance to end the war. The battle was joined and the Warriors of the Tribe of the Caribou found themselves outnumbered. The battle did not go well and a retreat was sounded. They retreated in an orderly fashion but their scouts made an error. They found themselves in a valley with no way out. The Orcs hooted their derision at the mistake of the Tribe's tired scouts. The brave Northern barbarians stood their ground and formed what they thought would be their final Shield wall. The Orcs charged and the Tribesmen started to lose heart to see so many. They were outnumbered 18-1!

The warriors suddenly heard a rumbling. “More Orcs?” they thought in confusion. But as the first stag crested the hill, they realized that what they heard was the Grand Stampede. The Caribou crested the hill and lowered their heads for the charge. Many Orcs fell that day and were trampled beneath mighty hooves.

After the slaughter of the Orcs, A large Stag that had led the Grand Stampede came up to the elder and said “We have saved you from death, but we cannot save this land, that is for you. Strike off my head and a great gift you will receive to aid you in this struggle.” And so saying he lowered his head.

The Elder, awestruck, did as he was asked and with a mighty blow, took the head clean off the Stag’s shoulders.

Immediately the head grew back and the great Stag went to the next warrior and asked the same of him. Soon all of the tribe had the Stag’s Antlers. They were told to adorn their helms with the horns and they would have the speed of the caribou, strike terror in the hearts of enemies and embolden their companions.

Since that gift, throughout the North, a Nomadic band of Barbarians bring Justice to Evil and keep their homeland free of the taint of Evil.

A prophecy by one of the seers of the tribe told of a time on a distant world where a Group dedicated to fighting evil will be formed in the People’s image. Relics will be found on this world from the Tribe and this group will use them to fight against the rising tide of evil. One of the warriors, of great strength and heart, if not brains, will be the first to know the true name of the Head Stag. When the name is uttered, the Head stag will be able to help these champions of Justice.

On Glorwing, influenced by the tales of his Grandfather, Flod Hult meets Lonko, a madman who has been wandering the desert for many years. They start the Antlered Horde and recruit members, never realizing that they have set the prophecy in motion for the Justin’s presence in this world.

Roc, a recruit strong in size and heart, but not brains, kept getting words mixed up and seemed to use Justin instead of Justice even when corrected. Unknown to all, this was, in fact, Justin manipulating events to make sure his true name became known. Eventually this rubbed off on the rest of the horde ...leading to the "Runs for Justice" becoming the "Runs for Justin".

With the belief that the run helps to stem the tide against evil, they have been providing the belief that Justin needs. When that belief is strong enough he will be able to appear to aid in the fight, although until that time though, all he can do is hope to be able to communicate through Roc ...not always an easy task, even for a god.

The guiding force of the Great Stampede, Justin is one that enjoys a good bowl of ale, will be quick to laugh and share a joke, and is generous and renowned to own great strength and wisdom. He believes that to beat evil you must understand their strengths, and so has learned to trick and not to be tricked. To cast magic and counter magic. Often times to fight against evil, you must learn from every fight against it. For example, when you are ambushed by invisible warriors, and a fireball is thrown at you from the side by a hiding mage, you get an idea that charging at evil while invisible so they hear your battle cry and hear the pounding of your boots but cannot see what the noise is until the Great sword of Justice is flying toward their neck might be a good idea after all. As the great sage Lonko Stranger says, a good idea is a good idea, why waste it? However, to stoop to the level of evil is never a good idea.

The Horde is just his kind of people, now if he could only figure out how to appear in front of them...

Editor's Note: The following has been translated and interpreted from a used Horde knapkin.

Some people have said Justin is a made-up god, that he never actually existed except in the minds of those too soaked in ale to know any better.

We call those people "drinking problems".