Legends of Belariath
Mekiar Swiftkill
His name was Mekiar Swiftkill, a wolven of great promise, until his entire life was taken from him -- taken by teh very wolven he wanted to be. At an early age it was clear to the others of his mountainous tribe that he would achieve greatness, perhaps even becoming the leader one day. Of course the current leader Garak Farsight at the time agreed. So when the young cub was able to learn the spear, Garak took him under arm and taught him all the knowledge that made him leader. Mekiar took to this teaching like mothers milk, and even excelled at it, already he was showing much promise, though faster than Garak had imagined. Too fast was his growing abilities, even the rest of the tribe took notice of the young cub's talents already seeing the symbol of the leader's office -the only mithril spear thier tribe has- in his hand. That worried Garak, for he has already gotten comfortible with the alpha position, with his many mates as a status symbol. If this cub were to succeed then he will have absolutly nothing and be treated like the old and feeble, having thier meals fetched for them, not allowed to carry weapons, placed with teh females to be taken cared of.
Garak spent many a day trying to find a way to prevent this from happening, of course all the while continuing to teach Mekiar in the ways of the alpha male. Now Mekiar Swiftkill had accumelated much in his short years of being trained, he was even mated to a beautiful female all but in name. Jujali would've been a fine mate, able to bear many strong children that would ensure the strength of his mountain tribe for many generations to come. Every day Mekiar would prey to the shrine of Fenr, the most sacred of thier shrines, and ask for the strength and knowledge to lead his kinsmen to good hunting. He was quite the devout, also a carefull one too, never laying a hand upon Fenr's shrine for that was forbiddon, inscribed in stone was the punishment for such a deed --exile.
The mountain tribe in which he lived was not the only mountain tribe, across a valley was another mountain and another tribe, however, thier enemies. Forced to share a small river that divides thier territory like common wolves, though both had strong hunters and the means to defend from each other. They dared not to attack and in return they were not attacked by the enemy and so this peaceful yet precarious relationship lasted since far before even Garak's time.
Then one day, one fatefull day, the very thing that Garak feared came true, though in the tribe across the valley did it happen. A young hot-headed warrior usurped his leader's status as alhpa male killing him in the process and taking over as the new alpha male of thier tribe. Of course the very first thing this new leader did was declare that the small river that they shared will belong to his tribe only and rallied his warriors to take control of it. Well the scouts of Garak's tribe knew in advanced what was happening so he sent his warriors out to try and stop them, including young Mekiar hoping that he would be tragicly killed. Fortunately for Mekiar though he fought long and hard against the enemy tribe taking wounds as well as giving in turn. The battle raged for most of the day and long into the night which left the battle encrouching within Garak's tribegrounds.
Huts were burning, and the women and children were running for the safty of the caves. Eventually Mekiar and Garak found themselves in the largest hut which was devoted to the deity Fenr, his statue though wooden stood prodly umong the offerings surrounding it. Mekiar cursed teh enemy for forcing them to violate a sacred place and dug in for the strength to end it quickly. Both he and Garak had a warrior apiece and were leaping about and stabbing with thier spears, metal against metal,the leader's mithril spear glittering dully in the dim candlelight, though Mekiar's was dull by the dried blood of his enemies. They danced a fierce battle and even though outside the tides were turning in thier favour, inside it was evenly matched as even Garak had to put in more effort for his opponent. Victoriously Mekiar finally gives a fatal wound to his opponent, impaling the length of his spear halfway into the gut of this enemy, and as the already dead opponent fell clutching the spear's length Mekiar turns to watch his alpha fight.
Garak's fight turned out to be a well evened match and both warriors started to tire from the exertion of parrying and stabbing. Both displayed wounds about them and it would be a toss up between the two who would succumb first. Mekiar decided he should help by removing his spear from the dead man's gut and racing over facing both the sacred Fenr statue and the two advarsaries.
The enemy realizing he's both outnumbered and outskilled decided on a last salvo to kill the chieftan at least, launching himself at him like some crazed bear and knocking both him and Garak against the statue, a splintering sound can be heard as fighters and relic both topple backwards with a sickening crash onto the dirt floor. The enemy's lifeless eyes stared upwards as the leader was victorious, though it came at a price as the beloved statue lay in pieces and smeared with unclean blood. Mekiar stares scandiously at his leader, unable to make words come forth, barely able to look at him for the statue mustn't be tarnished at all, even by the leader. But Garak thought quickly and after removing his spear he runs out of the tent and as the rest of the tribe was clearing away the bodies obviously victorious, Garak called to them to gather infront of the tent shrine.
One by one they came, warriors with blood spilled on thier face, only some of it thiers, women with thier injured man held up chasting them to be still, children, eyes bright with fear and releif. The leader will take one good look around before calmly informing them of this auspisious victory. A cheer will rise from the crowd of kin, spears shook and fists raised, all praise to Garak Farsight for his leadership. Mekiar frowned at this, his hopes his leader will tell teh truth for that will be honorible. However Garak did not, instead an accusing finger will point to Mekiar and a stare full of mock zeal will replace a face that Mekiar has known since he had first held a spear. It was Mekiar that had done the most horrific thing and knocked over the sacred statue, though the fight will be glazed over, it was indeed Mekiar's "atrocity" that Garak will illuminate.
Mekiar couldn't beleive this betrayel, being named desecrator, and a lie coming from a man he looked up to. He barely had time to register this as the tribesmen cornered Mekiar and took away his spear and his tropheys, mainly the strips of braided fur from the enemies he has killed. He then suffered the final mark of an exile, forever banning him from any mountain tribe, the front part of his forhead was stripped of his fur in a small rectangular strip, the width of a pairing knife's blade. Then it was sliced into four times, lengthwise so that it would never grow back. Weaponless save for a simple dagger and without any honor --even his title of Swiftkill was taken from him-- Garak exiled Mekiar from his tribe and home, even his love to be wouldn't say anything to him. After another futile attempt to defend his honor he left the tribe a step ahead of the axman dissappearing into the wilderness never to be seen among the mountains again.
Mekiar spent two years surviving in the wilderness, keeping himself away from any tribes taht were nearby, eventually his travels will land him in a place governed by those that are refered to as teh furless, a weak and disgusting race, reduced to slimy snakes that fought for scraps like some flearidden cur. He hated this place, but his mood for these two years have been souring steadily, so it fitted him just fine. After procuring lodgings in The Lonely Inn, Mekiar starts to live a lonely life without family or honor. After his first night at the inn prooved to be interesting as he gets his first taste of this new force called magick, unfortunately, the suductive wolven who goes by the name of Scout felt he would do well if he were sexually active. After a night of frustration and uncomfortible release he'll decide that if a wolven can make it here then he shall too and become well known and honored, and eventually returning to take back what was rightfully his.
Mekiar first needed to aquire a weapon better than his simple dagger. After converting a few nuggets of gold he had found in the mountains to the furless's money, he finds hismelf at the Might Makes Right. A very wise and talented Torian by the name of Alta Nova sells him a very finely made weapon -a mithril spear. He finds it quite shocking to learn that mithril weapons are common in these lands, his smile can be seen stretching across his face at the relaziation that Garak wasn't as special as he claims to be. Now that he has one of his goals met, though not in the way he wanted it, he started working to make a name for himself.
While searching for somethign to do he gets approached by a town messanger with copies of a letter sent by what he has learned to be a noble of these lands, the Lady Eraelabryn. She wanted to find a certain person by the name of Master Quan, apparently for something very important. After getting terrible directions from the inn's orgress barkeep, he will make his way west instead of east like he should. After traveling for most of the week and finding no tracks nothing to indicate someone was traveling this way he'll double back, though to make things faster he'll ride on those wooden structures called "ships" for the first time. After finding himself in a war between pirates and a deity he'll meet his new love, Ayla Firedawn. At first he wasn't aware of the attraction from the fighting, but aftewards he realizes how he felt about her. After spending some time with her he resumes his quest to find Master Quan.
Traveling east now he'll come across what he dubs the Midnyte Forest, though by his definition wasn't a forest at all, but a mixing pot of every single thing wrong in the world made to life in a forest. Even the forest's creatures were different from what he was used to, thinking he would have good hunting he was concerned that he wouldn't be able to eat any of the animals here. For the next few weeks he journeyed through the evernight, sleeping in trees when he was tired and resuming when he woke, that was the only way he kept track of time. His fur had come in contact with some sort of odd oily plant and he started losing his fur about his body in patches.
At last he came upon Master Quan's campsite and after a lengthly discussion about his path and the choices he made, which left him feeling quite satisfied about not returning to his tribe, he set off to make his way back to Nanthalion, and to his waiting love. After reporting his findings to the Lady Eraelabryn, he went with his love and spent every day working at the Wolf Pride, to try to earn enough money to purchase some land for them to live. To this day, he had made the right decision to stay.