Turalyon Darkwolf

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Turalyon Darkwolf
Information
Gender Male
Occupation Drin
Affiliation The Grey Tower

Turalyon Darkwolf is a Drin of the Grey Tower.

Biography

My story begins in a forest. Unknown to me, it would become my home for nearly all of my life. My father and mother were channellers, and were sided with a skirmishing band of Trollocs. They would regularly ambush small caravans and escorts, which was a very profitable business, but which lead to their demise. I was positioned at the peak of a wooded escarpment, with Danath, a loyal friend of my parents. Here we would watch with anticipation as my parents earnt their living. A small guarded caravan tumbled by, the men inside oblivious to the fact that they had reached the end of their lives. As I watched shadows move ever closer to the caravan, I could see how my parents had become masters of their trade, able to move with the agility of a cat and the grace of a feather. Soundless they attacked, slitting the throats of two halberd wielding soldiers, their inanimate corpses drained of life. As the party of rogues, my parents leading the way, engulfed the caravans, a band of ranger-like adventurers came rushing into battle. Caught off guard, my parents and the entire band of Trollocs were slain, each carrying an arrow or two down to earth with them. I watched in horror as the Rangers shot with such accuracy and brute devastation, that it was like an ungodly force was aiding them. As Danath took me under his arms and fled through the forest, I could hear the cheers of the Rangers and caravan rejoice in their victorious and lawful triumph. Danath, weary from years of ambushing and bloody conflicts, took me to a village, where he said I would be cared for. Without a trace, he fled into the woods, leaving me in the center of a small enclosed hamlet, the sun setting. I ended up falling asleep next to a well, crying myself to sleep, alone in the world. I awoke in the wooden hut of a Ranger, where for the bulk of my life, I remained - never before seeing such kindness. This Ranger, who went by the name of Lothar, provided me with all I needed, and took me under his wing, providing me with the necessary skills of life that I needed to survive. I learnt to use a bow to hunt and protect, and I learnt lawful ways to live. In my heart, however, I kept my parents' lesson - 'kill or be killed'. Submerged remained my chaotic evil streak, which led to me ruining my 'perfect' existence. When I first met Lothar, I told him of my story. Only on my 16th Birthday did he tell me that he was one of the Rangers in the party which killed my parents and their band. The chaos in my head erupted, and in a fit of sheer bloody evil, I slew Lothar where he stood, and fled the town. The conflict in my head still remains, the evil suppressed by a streak of goodness. The world is quite new to me- I have not been taught of foreign lands, so I wander, a lonesome soul, out with no true aim...vulnerable, both physically and mentally, keeping to shadows where I watch the world around me go on, wanting nothing....and everything...

Career History

  • Drin