My name is Ragnar Fáolain.. or the Wild Wolf if you want, and this is my Lord of the Craft story. I was born off the Northern Coast of Anthos, following the 'Pagan' culture with my Father, my Mother had already passed. I was born with the name Ragnar Warnek, I've learned to fight from the age of 3, when I was 12, a group of Oren Zealots raided my Homeland, killing everyone inside including my father. I was lucky to escape..
At the age of 17 I arrived at the Fringe, I joined the Stoneguard Auxillary for a while with a deep hatred of Oren. When I was still young and Naive I made the stupid decision to join the White Fang because I had interest in a Girl. Eventually I married her, and had a Child, The White Fang had disbanded and I was left as a Commandant of Atgaards 'Red Stallion' Guard force.
Eventually we moved out of there too, following Baden all the while, while we were with Baden, my daughter Runa passed away from a Fever, it ruined me.
When we arrived at the Thales, I grew sick of Baden and his Kins pacifistic ways, I grew angry and tired, I was then attacked by his.. whatever she was, They almost killed me while I was off guard, I left Baden in anger.
I went to establish my own keep atop a Hillside area somewhere.. I called it Lochwind Keep, I lived there in Solitary for a while.
As we left for Athera I met a man who would later change my life, his name was Thórvárdr Fáoláin, he was a Northerner like myself, we got on very well, and I agreed to live with him and his kin, to return to my 'Pagan' way of life.. The more I was with them the more they felt like Brothers until I was accepted as a true brother to them, and I became Ragnar Fáoláin.
(Tried to keep it to 200 words but Ragnars FULL proper history is around 3,7k words..)