Long ago, during the time Ysgramor, it is said a group of Atmorans in Skyrim attacked a village, old hatreds of Atmora failing to die out as a feud raged on being towns and villages. Amongst the villagers, a Shield-Maiden stood strong against the raiders, fighting off and slaying many before the numbers overwhelmed her, however, instead of killing her off, her attackers called upon a much crueler fate, instead of killing her in glorious battle and sending her off to sovengarde they stripped her of her shield arm by way of piercing deep into bone and muscle, making it unable to lift, let alone use, a shield ever again and sent her wandering the frozen plains.

It is said, she wandered aimlessly for weeks, hatred seething that any traveler that looked upon her ran in fear of her wrath, It is here that legends diverge, some say that Dire Wolves walked along her side guiding her to gain Hircine's Favor, and others state she won his favor by chance by slaying a powerful Werewolf that attacked her one moonlit night, no matter the case, she had acquired his curiosity and interest. Hiricine spoke to the woman, who even with her injuries and hatred, listened closely as Hircine offered the one thing that was of any interest to her goals.

The power to take her revenge on the raiders that took all but her life that terrible night. She readily accepted his gift, and drank deep of the cursed blood offered by the Daedric Prince. Her transformation was said to have been bloody and quite violent, as to be expected with one who has drank from a pure source of the curse, were-blood.

With her new found power she set out anew, tracking and hunting the ones who had shamed her, gathering forces as she traveled, collectively they began to call themselves "The Wolves of the Frost Fall". They followed this nameless one as her comrades in battle, she was said to have found the title they gave themselves amusing, as her comrades hadn't known of her true form.

Eventually, they found their prize, the raiders had grown, and the former shield-maiden seen many who once knew her as such, forced into service to the victors of that day. Rage boiled in her veins at the pitiful sight of those she once had considered her brethren. Her comrades, who now numbered as Seven including herself, devised a plan to slaughter the whole of them while the maiden sat silent while her allies spoke in hushed tones to each other until they heard a cry that rang across the frozen cliffs that sounded full of hatred and courage, the seven watched as a young woman brandishing a stolen sword charged at her captors swinging a blade with fury and precision, taking a good few and seemingly instinctively grabbing a shield from the corpse of one of her foes, the Maiden stared in awe as this young woman mirrored her own self just a month prior.

However, this woman was not as skilled as her predecessor, and was quickly cornered. It was at this time the Maiden finally spoke to her comrades, saying only one word almost as an order amongst a pack "Kill" and collectively they charged in before her, taking the raiders by surprise and an even greater surprise when amidst the quarrel a bloodthirsty howl echoed across the area as the Maiden leaped from the cliffs half transformed, her claws fully formed as well as her vicious fangs, allowing her "slayers" to see her face before it became their true nightmare. Her comrades immediately understood her word before, it wasn't an order for them, it was an order for herself.

They stood aside, as she strode in bestial form amongst them toward the raiders who stood motionless stricken with a deathly fear and stopped a hair's breadth from their chieftain and let out and even more vicious roar before she gored his throat with her claw, using the very same arm that he had disabled, she then turned her gaze to her companions and the villagers and pointed an elongated claw at the rest of the raiders, who were quickly struck down by the Maiden's Warriors.

After victory was assured, the maiden reverted her form, and spoke to the survivors.

"Listen, and listen well, for from here on, we forge a path that separates us from kin we once knew. I shall give you this choice, join me as my shield-brothers and sisters under the banner of Hircine, and drink deep of Lycan Blood, becoming kin anew, as Wolfhaven. Or run, and become prey in my hunt."

As she spoke these words, her allies and the villagers looked amongst each other then together looked upon the maiden and kneeled, renouncing name and former kin, taking up the Mantle of Wolfhaven.

It is said, that at some point the clan split between two sides, one who became an Imperial branch rarely becoming Lycans or even drinking of the curse, and the other which were the Main Nord Branch who willingly accept Hircine's gift to this day, with the exceptions of notable individuals throughout the history of the clan, whose fate is uncertain.

In this age, no one is truly certain of their numbers, and where their dens exist, the few who do, don't often last long....


Somewhere in Tamriel, it is said a mead hall exists, where Man, Mer, Beast, Daedra, and all manner of beings gather. One tale speaks that Talos challenged Sanguine to drinking contest in that hall, another says Sheogorath filled every corner and container with cheese shouting "Cheese for everyone!". Many tales persist about this legendary mead hall, but few have ever stumbled upon it, those who do were said to have been near death, usually of mortal wounds or of starvation. And it's location is shrouded in rumor and conjecture, some claim it exists somewhere in Skyrim, others claim to have visited it in Black Marsh of all places, even stranger accounts state was once seen in the Summerset Isles.

No matter the rumor and tale, one thing remains unchanged, it's name is the "Blackrose Hall" and it is a home for those who are without. Those who are cast from the normal lives of Tamriel's citizens. Whether they be Lycan, Vampire, Daedra, Murderers, Thieves, or worse. They may find a home in this Hall of Sin and a comrade in the strangest of places.

Some scholars believe that the Hall does not physically exist on Nirn and instead is some part of Sanguine's daedric plane, and has a strange ability to will it's existence to those it believes are in need of it. Whether it be a Warrior awaiting sovengarde to take him as he dies upon the field of battle, or an assassin who is reveling in the taste of a fresh kill.

Many theories exist, but one thing is certain, if you are considered outcast, the Blackrose will consider you a comrade. If you are spoken of as a monster, you will be welcomed as brother. And if you are in need, the Blackrose shall offer you mead.


Thanks for reading, this is simply free-writing based off my own characters throughout my TES Gaming history as well as backstory of a ESO Guild i originally planned on creating (The Blackrose Hall). I am aware it is not a perfect piece of work, and probably is inconsistent or redundant in some areas, but the point is to tell a tale, and lets be honest, Legends and myths passed on through time are the masterpieces forged of inconsistency and redundancy, and that is the style of storytelling that is used for these pieces.

Again, thank you for reading and may Kyne protect your journies!