name: Rhuryn Megilwen, son of Seon
born: anno cadaris 1000, Rayda 25th, Galadan, Othala
age: 24
height: 6'13"
eyes: brown

1000-07 - 1017-08 Galadan Forest
1017-08 - 1019-11 Tyragonian Archer til Tyragon purge
1019-11 - 1024-xx Rogue, well alright.. thief to be exact

"Keep thy fairy tales of justice and the one god... I hath seen his justice in the Tyragon purge. The Tyragon, good Sire, were his truthful warriors. Believing in the almighty they feared not death nor pain. Their knights righted the wrong and following their glorious leader they would've marched right through hell.

Yet what was their reward ? After centuries of unceasing fidelity they were dastardly assaulted and outnumbered by the hundreds slain by an alliance of perfidious cowards. Vanquished by the envy of man, exterminated from this ol' earth forevermore.

Wherefrom i know ? Well, I'm a wanderer... i see and hear lots of things but nevermind.. I don't care much whether or not thou believ'st me."

Rhuryn's story is quickly told. A member of one of Othala's finest armies he had been and believing in a great future in the service of his clan. Yet then came the purge.. and his kin was slain in their hundreds. He had been far from being the best of archers at daybreak.. alas at nightfall he was.

Should he have shown himself.. should he have stepped from the brushwood to embrace death ? Whom would he have saved when there was no hope left ? Possibly nobody.. yet still the thought kept him awake at night. Mayhap he should have gone with them.. for what had he turned to by now ? A homeless rogue.. too proud to beg.. yet not too dumb to steal. That was what he was.. always on his way.. to nowhere. Would this ever end ?

In times he caught himself in daydreams.. Lord Tyragon's return.. full of wrath and glory. Yet how could he step under his eyes, he who had chosen survival over a more or less honorable death ? Rhuryn would not know.. What was honor in the end ?