There are many legends and stories about the fortunes of Gunnar, the god of frosts who, as a young man, was to wander and experience a lot of wonderful adventures on the green meadows of the Ancient Lands, as well as in the grim woods and nether regions. As the books say, he used to be a swashbuckler who had abnegated his godhood to live along with the young race of Humans. He’d been living with them in primitive gords, hunting after the game, and helping during battles with beasts, from which later, many became a part of the chansons and legends about Gunnar. Unlike other gods, he tried to cleave to the people, accepting their weaknesses and primitive tendencies. He would be an observer but at the same time, he was relaying knowledge about the world and the gods to them. He wouldn’t reveal his true identity, trying to be like a mortal, therefore, he would learn what joy and suffering are – things which gods had forgotten a long time ago. He used to array in a fur and a horned helmet, which became his attribute and symbolises him to this day.

Many believe that in a frosty night, exactly the same as when Gunnar set out for a venture and never returned, they will see a warrior in the horned helmet, walking through the snow and carrying a bulk of a beast. It will be their long-cherished god who had descended from the sky to look out for the Humans. He will return from his venture and sit again among the rulers of this race.

The notes in the books are full of fables, legends, and not quite consistent stories about Gunnar, therefore, many can come across as a formation of the scribes or Gunnar’s priests who try to extol their god above the others. The story of his youth and life among Humans seem much exaggerated, however, there are such winter days and nights when strange things happen. They coincide with the winter festivity of Gunnar, and then all who doubt the truth in the legends about him, lose their arguments against the existence of the god who became a Human.