The four canine teeth of the dire wolf, each inscribed with a Reghedjic prayer to Tempus, hung from a leather thong around his neck.
Current Wealth: 197gp
Large even by the standards of a Reghedman, Loghain stands just shy of 7ft tall and has the build of one used to strenuous activity and battle. Handsome and tanned from the steppes, the sides of his head are clean shaven, the hair on the top of his head drawn back into a long braid that reaches between his shoulder blades. He is almost always clad in chainmail and heavy brigadine with numerous weapons on his person: Sever sheathed on his left, a seax and hand axe both on his belt on the right, a quiver of hunting spears and his shield on his back.
Originally hailing from one of the nomadic tribes of Icewind Dale, Loghain was born the third son of the tribe's Chieftain . Having gained great reputation amongst his fellow tribesman, but not wanting the responsibilities of leadership or conflict with his brothers, Loghain left the plains. With nothing to his name but his skill and his father's blade (Sever) he found himself aligned with a band of mercenaries. After a few years of service and a transfer of leadership within the band, he found his morals at odds with the new leader's vision. Given the choice of falling in line or death, Loghain battled his way free and escaped. Now free again to follow the call of Tempus, Loghain looks to future glories.
15 years ago - Loghain crouched on the rocky out-cropping, nearly 50 feet off the ground, looking down at the beast that had stalked him through day and well into the night. The direwolf looked up at him, pacing the ground beneath the ledge, the hunting spear he had driven into its side barely a nuisance. Soaked to the bone from the rain and chilled from the cold, Loghain knew he would succumb to the elements before anyone from his tribe came looking for him; he was well known for roving far into the wilderness on his hunts.
Drawing his Seax, barely more than a hunting knife, he drug the blade across his palm. Wiping his blood over the blade he whispered a fervent prayer to Tempus for the strength to overcome his foe or to grant him entry to Warrior's Rest should he fall. Tempus must have heard his prayer, for as Loghain readied himself to leap from the ledge the world suddenly narrowed, everything falling from his view but the dire wolf below. The chill and the damp fled, the ache in his bloodied hand faded to nothing. Tempus' blessing of Battle Fury fell upon him fully as he flung himself off the ledge, the dire wolf's jaws gaping wide to meet him as he hurtled towards it.
The next morning a band of trappers hailing from Ten-Towns stumbled upon the scene of the battle. The body of the dire wolf lay before them, the snow around it darkened by blood. Not questioning their good luck they quickly sprang to work, drawing their skinning knives as they approached. It wasn't until they rolled the body to finish skinning it that they found Loghain, unconscious and protected from the elements by the wolf's fur, his arm trapped in its jaws.
Prying the beast's jaws apart they discovered that the boy's hand still gripped the hilt of a short sword, the blade buried in the roof of the wolf's mouth. After a moment's deliberation the hunters bound Loghain's wounds, loaded both him and the dire wolf on their sledge, and made their way north east towards the nearest Reghedman encampment.
Hooks 2 and 3
I was conscripted in the army and have just finished my duty. WIth nowhere to go and limited funds, I am hitting the open road to earn my fortune.
I am the 3rd born of a noble house and I am leaving before my siblings view me as a threat.
Last edited by Loghain on Thu Mar 31, 2022 9:10 am, edited 2 times in total.