Volibear
To his remaining followers, Volibear is no mere legend, but the storm itself given form. Born before mortals ever set foot upon the frozen plains of the Freljord, he is raw fury and unyielding will. The ancient lands he and his kin shaped still lie beneath his watchful gaze, and he guards them with feral devotion. Yet, time has bred in him a deep loathing for the frailty of civilization, for the soft hands and still hearts it forged. He longs for the age when the world was wild, when thunder roared and blood sanctified the snow. Now, he fights to tear down what mortals have built, rending his foes apart with claw, fang, and storm, determined to awaken the primal world once more.
Opening
Welcome, lore-lovers... to the storm. I'm Liandrug, and today, we dive deep into the legend of the Volibear, the thunder's roar, the untamed fury of the Freljord itself. Prepare yourselves, for this is not a tale of peace... but of gods, storms, and blood.
The Chronicle
To some, he is the Thunder's Roar, the Greatstorm, Valhir. To others, he is Ruin, the Thousand-Pierced Bear, He Who Stands. Yet among the tribes that still cling to the old ways, one name echoes above all others, Volibear.
He is destruction given shape, strength bound in storm. The living fury of the Freljord itself. Long before mortals claimed its frozen tundra, Volibear and his demi-god kin forged the realm they called Vorrijaard. The sagas whisper of his might, that with a single sweep of his claws, he carved the Five Fjords into the world's edge, and that his titanic clash with the magma-serpent Rhond tore valleys and ravines across the land. When the beast finally fell, its blood ran cold and became the first river of the Freljord, while its lifeless body rose into the Wyrmback Mountains.
In the age of the first tribes, when wild magic surged unbound, the Volibear was worshipped as both savior and storm. His strength was the shield of mortals, his fury their weapon. He strode into wars beside his followers, clad in rune-etched armor forged by his brother Ornn, the demi-god of the forge. In those ancient days, the brothers stood as one, Ornn the maker, Volibear the destroyer. Yet while Ornn's fires burned steady and patient, Volibear's heart thundered for battle. The more blood spilled in his name, the greater his power grew, until his roars alone could shake the mountains they had once built together.
As ages passed, the bond between the Volibear and his kin waned. Each drifted toward their own dominion, fire, frost, earth, or storm, yet no true rift split them. Not until new powers rose to challenge the old ways.
From among mortals came the Three Sisters, wielders of order and ambition, seeking to tame the wild Freljord beneath their rule. Among the demi-gods, discord stirred. Some, like Anivia, leaned toward peace, believing coexistence possible. Others, like the Iron Boar, stood beside the Volibear, thirsting to tear down this false order and restore the chaos that birthed the world. A few chose indifference, certain that mortal lives would fade like sparks in a snowstorm.
But Volibear's wrath burned too fiercely for patience. He turned to his fiercest children, the Ursine, savage and unrelenting, and vowed that through them, the sisters would fall. To arm his warriors, he sought the aid of Ornn once more.
Yet Ornn, ever the stoic craftsman, refused. He could not forge weapons for such bloodlust, nor sanction the madness consuming his brother. Their words turned to roars, and the mountains themselves trembled as storm clashed against flame. When the tempest quieted, the brothers stood apart forever. The Volibear, seething with fury, cast away the runed armor Ornn had made, cursing his brother's name. From that day on, he swore to fight with nothing but his fangs, his claws, and the storm that raged within him. Freed from restraint, his power grew vast and untamed, raw thunder unbound by any forge.
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With fury unchained, the Volibear descended upon one of the mortal sisters who sought to claim the divine power of the demi-gods. Before the eyes of her army, he struck her down, his lightning-blinded eyes burning with rage. Yet even in victory, he was too late, the seeds of her treachery had already taken root.
Centuries passed like storms over the tundra. The mortals he once guarded turned their worship toward the Three Sisters, and the old songs faded into whispers. The Freljord he had known, wild, howling, alive, was dying. He saw tribes hiding behind stone walls instead of braving the winds. Hunters had become farmers, their blades dulled by peace. Rivers, once roaring and free, were shackled by dams. The sight filled him with thunderous wrath. This was not his realm, it was a pale imitation, a hollow echo of the world he and his kin had forged.
He felt the pulse of nature weaken beneath the weight of civilization. The people had grown soft, timid, blind to the old gods. And so, the Volibear made a vow. He would shatter their walls, drown their cities, and tear down every mark of mortal frailty until the land once more howled with storm and blood. The Freljord would return to its primal truth, and its people would remember what it meant to be strong.
Now his call rolls across the frozen peaks and endless plains, a deep, thunderous summons. One by one, the tribes answer, drawn to the storm's roar. The old ways rise again, and with every soul that bends the knee to the tempest, the Volibear's power surges. A reckoning of storm and blood approaches... and the Volibear charges toward it, unstoppable as the thunder itself.
Relations
We can say that in the frozen north, where thunder meets frost and faith bleeds into survival, the Volibear's presence shapes every bond and rivalry, let's see how he interacts with other characters.
Among the tribes, none echo his ferocity more than the Winter's Claw. Together with Sejuani and Udyr, the Ursine fight beneath the storm's banner, striking against Lissandra's Frostguard and Ashe's Avarosan. Yet, though their goals align, the Volibear's purpose runs deeper. He does not seek unity or conquest, he seeks rebirth through chaos. Even among allies, his thunder growls with distrust. To him, Udyr is a spirit walker who defies the storm's true call, a shaman who once heard Volibear's voice but chose restraint over raw power. The bear-god's respect for him is thin as ice.
Long ago, the Volibear's wrath took Lissandra's sight. Their clash scorched the tundra and echoed across the ages. Ever since, she has labored to bind his fury, hunting down his shamans and silencing those who dare revive his worship. To her, he is ruin incarnate, untamed, unending, and she fights to keep his storm from consuming the world once more.
Once, Volibear and Ornn stood as brothers-in-arms, shaping the Freljord with their hands and will. But their bond shattered when faith and fury clashed. The forge met the storm in a battle so violent it buried Ornn's followers beneath molten ruin. Since then, silence has stood between them, as cold and vast as the tundra itself.
Unlike her siblings, Anivia's heart still beats close to the old ways. She and the Volibear remain bound by the spirit of the land, both seeking to preserve its essence, though through different paths. Where Anivia brings renewal, he brings reckoning. Yet beneath the clash of frost and thunder, a measure of understanding endures.
In distant ages, before he became the Green Father, Ivern too bent the knee to the storm. He once prayed to Volibear, drawn to the wild strength that pulsed through the world. But in shedding his mortal form, he turned from the storm's fury to the gentler pulse of life, leaving the thunder god's worship behind like a forgotten song.
Closing Words
And thus ends the tale of Volibear, the storm reborn. If this story stirred your spirit, lore-lovers, remember to like, share, and subscribe. Join our Discord, a cozy hearth where storms and stories meet, and where lore-lovers like you keep the legends alive. Until next time... may your path be guided by thunder.
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