A New Beginning
High Aspect: Dreamstrider of the Ragnarok Pack – mist stalker among men
Trouble: The Old ways are the only way.
Aspect: Never leave a comrade behind
Aspect: Perception really IS reality
Description: Greyish blue eyes, has scar over left eye given to him by an Elk.
Light brown hair – 6 feet tall
Beginning Story: Abbadon woke suddenly on a cold, clear morning – his mind immediately aware, sharp and focused. Of late, his dreams had been more and more vivid – and last night the details were so precise, so fine-grained, and so numerous that he could have SWORN the scene had actually happened….or would happen…or…something. Torogar, the clan’s old, grizzled wise man had approached him recently, spouting some nonsense about “Walking the Mists” with him, and saying that he would soon see further into the hearts of men. This had seemed odd to Abbadon at the time, but old Torogar was not known to be the most stable man. There was no denying that the old shaman had some astounding insights into people and events – often seeming to be able to predict the future itself. When asked about these amazing abilities, old Torogar simply said that it came to him “from the Mists”. If pressed, Torogar would sometmes say that “dreams can be real”.
If that was true, and what he had seen in his dreams last night was real – then it was going to be a good day. A nearby Lynx tribe, who call themselves the Fy – had always been a bunch of smug, arrogant pricks who looked down their noses at his clan. The Fy considered the pack hunting methods of his tribe to be weak, and always held that individual prowess was the pinnacle of manhood. They made a big deal about “manhood” – alot. Well, one of their tribe apparently has an interesting take on “manhood”, as Abbadon had seen one of them, known as Marabas, entering the tent of another male – and then bedding him. Public disclosure/proof of that would be a serious embarrassment to the Fy – and Abbadon could not WAIT to see the looks of shame of thier normally smug faces when he confronted them about it. His trump card was the fact that Marabas had left a necklace in the tent – an item he was known to cherish as it had been given to him by his now dead mother. Before he went and made any such bold claim though – he wanted to talk to Torogar and ask the old man how he knew if a dream was “real” or just….a dream.
Walking out amongst his people, Abbadon wound his way through the forest to the old shaman’s hut – which he found empty. Frustrated, Abbadon decided that he had to act on his information before Marabas realized his mistake and retrieved the necklace. However, just to be sure, he would check the hut ahead of time to make sure that the incriminating evidence was, in fact, there.
Abbadon approached the tent in question, and was startled by the emergence of another of the Fy – his name was….Dar’Jin…or something like that…and in his hand was the necklace. A low growl coming into his throat at this development, Abbadon was about to challenge the him when he witnessed the other man walk around the tent and back into the wood a small distance where he was greeted by none other than Torogar. The old shaman smiled and nodded, and the Fy tribesman bowed to him in respect. So, Torogar had the same dream, but had elected to instead curry favor with the Fy! Abbadon was not sure what to make of this, but he would certainly take it up with the old man later. Still, it was proof that his dreams HAD seen something that happened in the real world…