A portrait of my Half-Orc Paladin, from a Dungeons and Dragons campaign I'm currently in.

Raised in the small village of Auchendale on the edge of orcish territories, Vehlar lived a relatively standard life, working a forge with his father, a bit of an oddity in town as part of a line of orcs that have unseasonably white hair. However, disaster struck one day, as he felt the moon pulling on the tides of his blood, awakening a ferocious beast within himself, losing control as the beast that had lain dormant within sought vengeance on one who'd sought to harm his family. Finding himself in the middle of the wake of destruction, viscera of many innocent townsfolk caught in the storm the beast had wrought, leaving him with little time and few options. Scrounging together a mere few provisions, he grabbed his father's blade and ran far, far from what had remained of his home. He didn't dare look back as he took off into the woods, fearing that he would never be welcome again.

A circle of druids eventually found the sobbing mess of a werebeast, helped him wash the crimson from his snowy fur, and did their best to help him get back on his feet. He couldn't fully commit himself to their ways, however... as quickly as he took to their training, he still would not relinquish the blade that was his last connection to his home, and family. However, their teachings did not go to waste, as he forged his own path, combining their wild magics, his blade, his fang and claws into his own style, as he set off to find a place where he truly could belong.

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