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| - Grey Wolf started as a Haltan. A classic Haltan too. Green hair, animal companion, faerie contacts, beastmen childhood friends. You could have snapped a picture of him and given it the caption "Halta: Jungle Adventure Awaits!" and it would have been perfectly accurate. He had as good a childhood as could have been reasonably expected -- the oldest of three children, his family was wealthy enough to get him a proper education and good prospects. He was not unhappy there, exploring the treetops, spying upon fae or beastmen -- climbing down the tree sides with other children and taking dares to lower a limb below the faeries line. But as he matured, the jungle world around him began to seem more limiting -- a feeling of discontent growing within him. For all that Halta was grander and more civilized than it's neighbors, it's ambitions seemed limited. All he ever heard about were day-to-day operations and the war with Linowan. To him it seemed to be an endless cycle of violence with no clear goal. Even if Linowan were struck down by the wrathful heavens tomorrow, he thought, how would the lot of the people around him improve? The war tied up few resources and affected only border towns. To really make the world better would take more than what Halta had at it's disposal now, and the answer didn't lie in military force. He started looking into becoming a thaumaturge and, when that proved infeasible, started making more contact with the fae, curious about their powers to shape dreams into material goods. Disaster struck when one of the faerie brush wars erupted in his home town. As the people pulled up into the treetops to defend them, Grey was caught further away than the others, in the midst of the faerie incursion. Death seemed certain -- if not eternity as an empty faerie vessel. Salvation appeared in the form of a shooting star -- a fire-type immaculate monk, plummeting from the treetops here. Here to preach to the barbarians, he was ready to depart -- his mission unsuccessful -- when the faerie raid began. Injured, young, and mortal, Grey could only watch the fight wide-eyed as the monk tore through most of the faerie raiding party before they fled in tatters. Grey used the few days the monk was still in town to learn everything he could about the Immaculate Philosophy, and when the dragonblood finally left, resolved to follow in his footsteps one day. The Order's way of bringing gods, fae, and demons into line -- making it possible for mortals to live in safety, or even harness that power for themselves -- appealed to him greatly, and even if mortals were admitted only rarely, it was a chance to shoot for. When he came of age, Grey left his home town -- he dyed his hair, learned to speak Low and Old Realm and to hide his accent, and journeyed to the Blessed Isle to petition for admission into a monastery. He was accepted, and sent to the South -- to serve as part of Paragon's tiny group of Immaculate Monks, a small and largely unwelcome shield against the Anathema. But, while the duties were light, he adapted well to the monks life, and learned well under the monasteries master. He never quite could remember his name -- something he always attributed to a faerie curse he received in his younger years -- but the two gradually developed a surprisingly close relationship, with Grey seeing the old dragonblood as an almost fatherly figure. But, this time was to end when a Solar really did show themselves -- and the Wyld Hunt sent to slay her proved no match. It was uncovered that the Perfect had one of the Forsaken in his service, acting as his general, and the monks were sent to destroy this monster. Their hunt, along with Grey, met him in one of the small towns surrounding Paragon, and battle was joined. The monks fought well, but were no match for the powerful anathema, and soon the Hunt was broken and scattered. The death of everyone involved seemed imminent, when Grey had an idea. Up to this point, he'd been virtually useless in the fight, his mortal-spear unable to so much as scratch the solars armor. But, he thought that if he could incur it's wrath upon himself enough, he could get it to follow him while the dragonbloods fled to safety. He turned off the route of the fleeing hunt into an alchemists shop, and in a flurry of improvised weapons, started hurling every breakable bottle he could find at the Anathema before him. With no time to check the labels, the monks barrage was random -- but by Fate or luck, the bottles he chose reacted well, mixing and combusting on impact to form a disgusting, irritating smoke. The fire didn't kill the solar -- far from it -- but got his attention, Grey having just enough time to run before 200+ pounds of furious, armored Anathema crashed through the shop he was hiding in, chasing him out the back. The two went on a chase through the streets, but before long, Grey was corned -- his life the cost of the time he purchased. As he prepared to make his last stand, however, doubtful he'd even be able to hurt the creature before it tore his head off -- he saw something, standing on the roof of the buildings around him, a flight of doves. As more of the birds gathered, and a dull golden light surrounded him, time seemed to slow down for Grey. The swing of the Dawn's sword moved at a crawl -- and he knew that Dawn was the name of what he faced, not Forsaken. As peace overtook him, he raised a single finger to block the incoming sword. It bounced off -- Dawn and saber both sent crashing to the earth, as the symbol of the Eclipse Caste burned on Grey's forehead. Weakened and with no idea what to make of this, the Dawn fled, leaving Grey alone. By the time the Wyld Hunt returned, Grey's anima banner had died down. They took the Anathemas flight as a miracle, having no idea what had actually happened, and hurried back to Paragon to request reinforcements. It was only when he returned to the monastery that his mentor called him aside, and revealed that he was aware of what had happened-
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