I was born under the Blue Moon of Kal'Hirol. Among my people, this is the sign of a cursed child. And so, at 3 months old, I was left to the wolves, with nary a swig of alcohol to drink nor a dagger to defend myself with. I was raised by wild elk for the next three years, until they were murdered by a pack of wolves, who then took me in. This happiness was not to last, however, as they were murdered by a pack of uncivilized humans. And so I was raised by this wild clan of humans, who taught me the art of drinking fine ales and pillaging defenseless villages. That was until a pack of griffon's murdered them and took me in. Here I first discovered my talent for magic, but I would trade all that knowledge for a sack of Mead and a fine, golden haired lass. This was all fine and well, until a pack of dragons murdered my family, and I was raised by them. The Dragons were a terrible sort, rampaging across the countryside, until the god Zeus was angered, and he murdered my family. He raised my for three months, until I murdered him in a drunken haze. I now roam the countryside, murdering and pillaging, looking the the murderer of Zeus.