Lachlan Macleod Dark Age Were Wolf

[Archon Hamilton]

IN the year of our Lord 1276 their came a birth to Sara Macleod and proud father Connor Macleod. Born Lachlan Macleod he grew up in the Scottish Clan Macleod, one of several Scottish Clans, all proud. He grew up like many of the men in the Macleod Clan did, they played with dirt and bugs and when they were able to hold sword in hand they learned to wield it. Better safe then sorry. Due to being the only child of the Chief or do the the divine touch of the Lord himself Lachlan was a freakishly tall child. Only at eleven years past his name day he already stood at five feet and ten inches. Somewhat of a wild child his parents feared that he might have inherited his grandfather's curse. Which was to say the ability to turn into a great moon beast.

Luckily though as the years passed and Lachlan's height grew nothing happened, his parents could relax. Indeed 12, 13, 16, these name days came and passed and still no first change. It was not long though that the Macleod Clan could have relaxed, for they went to war with one of the Pagan Clans because they thought the Christ was a cannibalistic God, always speaking of eating of my flesh and drink of my blood, not actually understanding the symbolism behind his words.

Lachlan being a grown man now, as he now had hair on his chin was leading the front lines with his father. It was during this time that the Pagans tried to get a sneak attack in and let loose a volley of arrows. Many of his Kinsmen went down and he himself took an arrow to the eye though he got up with a pained groan, ripped the arrow out of his eye, taking his eyeball with him and held it aloft yelling towards the Pagans that it would take more than that to stop the Macleods from defending their lands. He then stuffed the eye into his mouth and ate it and was kind enough to even send the arrow back to the Pagans. After a good half days worth of fighting the Clan Macleod proved their superiority and the Pagans went retreating with their kilts between their legs.

The Macleod's returned to Skye and their castle Dunvegan in the Scottish Highlands. Lachlan was praised as a battle scared hero of the Clan, his parents could not have been more proud. Some peopel, the more grizzled soldiers in the Clan started calling Lachlan, Lachlan One-Eye. He knew they meant it out of respect rather than to insult his injury. Besides whenever another asked he always answered with God saw fit to bless him with another. A couple more years passed by and was a huge man, now standing at over seven feet in height. Lachlan One-Eye they jested was a siege engine all his own, he alone could lay waste to castles and the English. Lachlan while capable doubted this.

It was now the year of our Lord 1296 and Lachlan had seen the passing of twenty name days. There were talk of Wolf-men, moonbeasts, that kept creeping into the villages and stealing livestock, and even people. Deciding to put an end to such things Lachlan took up his sword and went into the forest where these moonbeasts were said to have been lurking. Two, three hours? How long had he been out here hunting. Thinking that they may have been just stories he began to turn around to head back to the safty of the Dunvegan Castle when something caught his nose of all things.

He followed his nose deeper and deeper into the forest where low and behold there were feral, bestial looking pagans with the livestock from the village. Lachlan ran his blade through one of the thieves. What should have killed him did not seem to do much at all as the man stood and his fellows laughed. Lachlan withdrew his blade and stepped back. That his when the thief and his two friends shifted in to creatures, manwolves that stood ten feet high, their arms elongated.

Fear, panic, dread. So many things was coursing thorugh his mind at this moment how was he supposed to face these monsters, these moonbeasts. His people had legends of these creatures, huge or not Lachlan did not stand a chance. And that filled him with such anger. He did not run a way but instead ran towards the Garou he attacked earlier hacking, hewing, slashing, cutting what he could. The beast before him almost sounded like it laughed and batted away his blade then sank teeth and claws into him. A moment later Lachlan collapsed on the ground. Anger, fury, wrath...rage consuming him. He looked up into the nights sky to see the full moon shining brightly. All that rage mingled with pain such intense pain as his body altered itself, his mouth grew out into a snout, his gums grew extra teeth that ripped through the skin, his finger nails extended becoming claws. How long this pain lasted he did not know, but it was over, now there was only rage, pure rage. Had he gotten taller, he lunged at the beast that clawed and bit him, except he was not using his sword, he was using his own teeth and claws.

He managed to fell his original attacker but then was slowly becoming overwhelmed by the other two, that's when four other moonbeasts lept from the forest and ripped the other two thieves apart. He himself was brought down from a tackle from one of the four. There was a howl and then things went black. When Lachlan awoke he found himself with people he did not know. A man, rugged with long hair smiled at him and walked over. "welcome to the sept pup, your a child of Fenrir now. Your a Garou, and now you need to get yourself a pack, though by the size of you looks like you ate a couple of'em."