Wolfrin Fenris: Origins Part 1

[Wolfrin Fenris]

Fenris, hero of the Third Chaos War, was traveling around searching for The Guild of the Righteous, when he came upon a small village in Amathest, called Contralid, and stopped to rest. There he fell in love with an elven dancer working at the inn, The Travelers Destiny, he stopped to rest in.The Elven maiden went by the name of Sylfaen Stardancer, and soon after their meeting, a child was born. Fenris? love of Sylfaen overcame his vengeful desires, and so they settled down in that very village.

Sylfaen named the boy Wolfrin with his last name as Fenris, after his father. Both parents did their best to impart in their child their cultures. Fenris taught his son the ways of the warrior and belief in the god of nature, Wolfgar. While Sylfaen instructed Wolfrin in the elven language and Etiquette, and imparted her skill with a bow.

During Wolfrin?s twenty second year, an old enemy of his father found them.The Guild of the Righteous, a very prejudiced, if small guild, was after Fenris once again. Knowing there would be trouble when he learned of their intentions, Fenris went out to meet them. Battling his way through them, he fought to reach their leader, a man named Helexandrios Grimior, or Hex as known by his men. Fenris attacked him, hoping to end the guild's reign and prevent any harm coming to his family. Fenris' sword against Hex's rapier the duel went back and forth for nearly an hour, until Fenris caught Hex off-guard and the duel ended with Helexandrios Grimior's head rolling across the ground. Unfortunately for Fenris some of the guild had been dispatched to deal with his wife and son.

Knowing his family was in danger, Fenris hurried back to his home but, by the time he arrived his wife had been knocked out cold and his son was locked in combat.. Fenris rushed into the battle to save Wolfrin from a blow that would have mortally wounded him, taking the blow for Wolfrin. As Fenris lay close to death upon the floor, Wolfrin took up his fathers sword, a slightly curved single edged sword, known as a katana. Blinded by rage, Wolfrin swung wildly at first, which his opponent, he later found out to be Hex's brother Luther Grimior, easily dodged and rewarded Wolfrin with a long slice along his chest. Fenris watched this and became angry, for he knew that Wolfrin could overcome this amateur swordsman if he would just calm himself and think clearly.

Calling out, Fenris instructed his son to do just this. His father's words broke through Wolfrin's battle rage and he grew calmer, following the techniques he had been taught. As Luther lunged in with his short sword hoping to skewer the half-elf, Wolfrin spun to the side; his sword extended straight out to his side. As Luther came to a stop blood squirted from his neck, his body collapsed and his head came at a stop against one of Fenris' legs.

Kneeling by his fallen father, Wolfrin wept softly as Fenris spoke his final words. Fenris told Wolfrin to say goodbye to his mother for him, and to tell her he loved her. He told Wolfrin to take care of her, and that he loved his son. Finally he bequeathed his sword to Wolfrin, and drawing a last breath, he died, the rays of the beautiful dusk passing over him.

A year passed and Wolfrin felt he could live no longer without his father. He prayed to Wolfgar, asking him, begging him to show him the way to restore his soul. Surprisingly Wolfgar answered Wolfrin's prayers and visited him in his dreams. He explained to Wolfrin a way to regain his father, and bestowed a blessing upon Wolfrin giving him special abilities. When Wolfrin asked his god why he had been blessed in such a way, Wolfgar explained that his father had been his champion, and so too would his son.

Within a week Wolfrin was ready to go, after gathering such as he needed for his journey, and relating the experience to his mother. Wolfrin knew that Sylfaen would be just fine on her own, if lonely, but Sylfaen didn't believe the same of her son. Knowing he would take his father's sword, and with Wolfgars' blessing, she knew she had to give him something to remind him of her. She gifted him a recurve bow she had been shaping since he was ten years old. Finishing the bow a a mere two years past, she had intended to give it to him when he turned fifty, but knew that now was the time. He bid farewell to his mother, stopping only to give her one last hug.

Once gone from his village, the one he had known since birth, a tear trickled down his face as he admired the gift from his mother. Along the grip was carved two words in elven script.

"Never forget"

Resolutely, he tied the bow across his back, and drew his father's sword. He swung it to the sky, watching the sun play off it's perfect surface, and vowed he would return his father's soul.