Lance was born 18 years ago as the first son of Lord Derrian and Lady Marielle of house Varg, one of the richest, most respected family of the capital.

Growing up, he was a good kid and did most of everything that was expected of someone of his rank (attending balls and ceremonies, talking to important dignitaries, merchants and even members of the royal family). Lance was loved by everybody but his parents grew concerned with his lack of interest for culture and education. Lance was not interested in the slightest with his private classes and would use every opportunity to run away from them to go train in weapon fighting with the castle’s master-at-arms.

Lord and Lady Varg, thinking that the life of a fighter or soldier was definitely not fit for someone of such high status as their first son, forbade him to ever touch a weapon again and asked him to find an interest of more cultural or spiritual significance in order to not bring shame to House Varg. Lance wasn’t really interested in any of that stuff and had a lot of trouble finding something that would please his parents until the day, at the age of 13, where he paid a visit to the great cathedral of the capital. In the cathedral, he spoke with one of the priest who taught him that spirituality does not always mean praying and healing the sick. There are many different gods and all gods have their own way to help the people. The priest brought Lance to a part of the temple dedicated to Tempus, the god of War. There, Lance met with different clerics of Tempus that were hard at work fighting against each other. Lance knew then and there what to do. Studying at the temple in the arts of priesthood and healing was sure to please his parents but they didn’t have to know what kind of god or training he would do at the temple.

Lance spent the next 4 years training many days a week at the temple learning about religion, healing and spellcasting but slipping off every now and then for some physical training with the priests of Tempus. Meanwhile, Lord Varg started growing sick and, fearing he might pass away in few years time, started grooming Lance to become the next Lord Varg.

The day of Lance’s 18th birthday, Lord and Lady Varg threw a huge ball to celebrate their son’s coming of age. Everything was well and good until the Varg castle got attacked by a famous criminal group called The Ferals. The criminals invaded the castle and took hostage, asking all the nobles present to hand over all their gold and jewelry. Lance managed to slip away to his apartments to grab his longsword and armor and went back downstairs and hid until he could find an opening to attack the thieves. Lance was able to use the confusion to kill five of the brigands, buying enough time for the royal guards to arrive and take out the rest.

Unfortunately, during the fight, one of the thieves jumped on Lance and pinned him down on the ground. The thief’s face changed for half a second and opened his mouth, revealing sharp teeth, like those of a wild animal. The thief bit Lance’s shoulder before the young man was able to free himself and kill him. A few hours later Lance started feeling a bit sick but as he woke up the next morning, he felt perfectly fine, better than ever actually.

Everything was well and good until the following week. Lance was out walking in the yard when the night fell and a beautiful full moon started rising. Lance started feeling a bit weak and fell on the ground. He heard voices in his head, like primal screams of anger and agony. In a matter of seconds, Lance was no longer able to move his own arms or legs. He felt pain as his body started twisting and shifting into a wolf-like form and started running against his will towards the castle. Two guards tried to stop him but he jumped on them and ripped off their throats. The taste of blood was the sweetest thing Lance had ever tasted so he stopped for a second and sniffed to find the closest human scent. He started running up the stairs to the second floor and entered a the room where his little 14 years old brother Damian was sleeping.

Lance jumped on Damian’s bed and threw the blankets on the floor. The young boy woke up and started screaming before Lance started eating him alive. As his little brother drew his last breath, Lance, panicked, was finally able to somewhat take back control of his own mind. He started shifting back to his normal form and started crying, holding his little brother’s body in his arms. Seconds later, his parents barged into the room with a guard to see Damian’s dead body. Horrified, Lord Varg asked the guard to shoot Lance, which he did. Lance took a bolt right in the shoulder and screamed in pain. The guard was reloading, his mother was crying and his father was screaming horrible things at him, Lance saw that he had no choice. He backed away and jumped through the bedroom’s window. He started running away from the castle, faster and faster and, without even knowing it, he was back in the skin of a wolf, running away into the night.

Lance stopped at the temple to change clothes and pick-up his longsword and left the city before dawn. He walked towards no particular direction, crying for his dead brother and the life he left behind.

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