Background

Wulfgar's father Lucian was a disappointment to his father Aeros. He was reckless, irresponsible, and disrespectful to women. Wulfgar's mother left his father one week after Wulfgar was born as a result of Lucian being emotionally abusive, sleeping around frequently, and enacting deviant acts of bestiality to produce Bestial Hybrids. Lucian was extremely handsome and charming, and the women he seduced were easily attracted to him. It was Lucian who named Wulfgar. He gave him a Norse name because Lucian's mother was the great-great-great-great-great-grand-daughter of a Valkrie, and though she was a werewolf-demon-vampire, she was pure norse! Lucian later told Wulfgar a story of how Aeros met Odin and his twelve handmaidens himself, while seeking the consent of the Valkrie for her many-greats-grand-daughter Vaeol's hand in marriage. Vaeol was Wulfgar's grandmother. Nystori had to prove himself in combat before Odin or the handmaiden would consent, and they only consented to that because Vaeol was deeply in love with Aeros. Needless to say; Aeros proved himself a worthy husband. Because Lucian had a cheeky sense of humor, he gave Wulfgar the middle name of Amut (ah-muht), which was an Egyptian name for wise, but the reason Lucian named him Amut was because he called Deluvians muts. Wulfgar was 'a mut'. Nystori was a Greek name which meant Night Wind, and was passed down from Aeros, to Lucian, to Wulfgar. Nystori is their line's name.

Lucian fed his blood to Wulfgar in a bottle when he was a baby and by the time Wulfgar was one year old he had inherited his father's power of telekinesis. He was not the worst father, but he was irresponsible and exposed Wulfgar to many things a child should never be exposed to. He was kind to his son though, and took his son with him everywhere he went, which was part of the problem. He also taught his intelligent son how to master his power. Lucian had started the process of passing on the element of earth to his son through his blood, but it was a process he would never be able to complete. When Lucian had to leave Wulfgar, either to attempt producing more offspring, or to engage in violent or dangerous acts; he left Wulfgar with various women of his acquaintence. Wulfgar had quite a few half brothers and half sisters he came to learn as he grew older. Because Lucian was so promiscuous; he made enemies of the fathers, husbands, sons, and brothers of the women he exploited. All but one of Wulfgar's siblings were lost in these conflicts when Lucian made an enemy out of a powerful demon. The demon was determined to hunt down every last child of Lucien's and kill them to make Lucien suffer, then kill Lucian himself. Lucian had made the mistake of knocking up the demon's daughter. When he came after Wulfgar, Lucian was present and the two fought until Lucian killed the demon. Lucian drank his blood to claim his form as a trophy, beheaded him, cut out his heart, and sent his soul into oblivion. Lucian's unlawful reproduction of Bestial Hybrids caught up to him however when Wulfgar was six years old. Lucian was tipped off by one of his therianthrope sons that his unlawful acts of bestiality had been discovered and that Aeros was coming after him, thus Lucian went into hiding and he took Wulfgar with him. It was Lucian's own father who was hunting him. Lucian feared no one but his own Arcanon father. For three years Lucian moved Wulfgar from place to place, but a week after Wulfgar turned ten, Aeros Nystori caught up to Lucian. Aeros was far more ancient even than Lucian and he was extremely powerful. Lucian put up a good fight but Aeros defeated him and killed him, destroying his Astral form as well. It was hard to say whether his death was final, but he was unlikely to be raised by anyone anytime soon. Lucien had more enemies than he did powerful friends.

Not wanting Wulfgar to remember the terrible death of his father, and having no wish for Wulfgar to hate his immortal grandfather, Aeros erased the memory of his father's death (which Wulfgar had witnessed) from his mind and implanted a memory of Lucian simply leaving him, never to return or be seen again. Lucian had told his son that he loved him, but that he could not endanger him any longer, and giving him a keepsake box full of money, and his ring to remember him by, he told him he was sorry and then left him. That is the memory Aeros implanted, and how he left Wulgar after cleaning up all evidence of Lucian's death, and that is how Wulfgar remembered it for a very long time.

Wulfgar was left on his own. His grief was like a shadow of emptiness which filled his heart and made hollow his chest. He put his father's ring on (on his thumb, because it was too big) and never removed it again for longer than it took to clean it or fit it to another finger as he aged. Despite all of his father's many flaws, Wulfgar had loved his father deeply. His father educated him, played with him, taught him how to master his power, told him everything about the many races he had come from, told him stories about those ancestors, and Lucian was all the young Deluvian had ever known.

Wulfgar lived alone in the basement of the bar his father had left him in for three months. He paid the rent and bought food out of the money his father had left him. But the people who owned the bar figured out that the boy had been abandoned and called the authorities. Wulfgar was placed under the care of the Church of Haman in the coastal metropolis of Eros. The district the church was in was a human populated district. Eros was divided into districts which different races inhabited. It was not a law, it just happened that way because people tended to flock to their own kind. No one knew what Wulfgar was, only that he was a boy, a very quiet and withdrawn boy who seemed to trust no one. It was months before he was caught practicing his telekinetic abilities, which he always did in secret, and it was then that the clergy suspected that the boy might be an immortal, or that at the very least he was capable of great power. The Bishop himself, who was a race called Namas, which were ageless humans, took an interest in the boy and spent a great deal of time with the young man. Wulfgar was twelve when the man finally gained the boy's trust and got him to open up. He would casually ask him questions.

"Do you know what you are?" he asked

"A Deluvian," Wulfgar answered.

"And what is a Deluvian exactly, can you tell me?" his voice was always placid and calming.

"We are the immortal children," Wulfgar related, "Spawned of many immortals," he explained.

"What kind of immortals?"

"All kinds." Wulfgar would not elaborate, his instincts told him not to.

"Don't you know what kinds?" The Bishop asked.

Wulfgar shook his head. The Church of Haman believed that demons, vampires, fallen angels, devils, and beast kin were evil, and Arcanon were a very mysterious race which preferred to remain elusive.

The Bishop sensed that he was lying, for he had powers of his own.

"You are a very clever boy, Wulfgar. I have seen you do things which are amazing. What other powers do you have?"

"I can hear what others think sometimes, but I try not to. Sometimes their thoughts are loud and it is hard not to."
The Bishop laughed. "That is so true, for I can hear thoughts too. I cannot hear your thoughts though, I never can. What else can you do?"

"Sometimes, if someone is feeling sad, or angry, I can make them feel better about things, or prevent them from doing something wrong" he admitted.

"That is wonderful," the Bishop said. He was a powerful manipulator of the mind, the Bishop thought, that was something he and the boy shared in common. His own thoughts were guarded from the boy so he had to worry of him receiving his inner contemplation.

The Bishop then stooped before the boy and took his shoulders gently in hand as his dark brown eyes leveled with the young man's clear-grey eyes. "You are a good boy from what I have seen Wulfgar, but there are many in the world who would corrupt you. What would you say if I offered you the chance to protect yourself from such evils, and to defeat such evils in the world?" he asked.

"I guess that would be a good thing," Wulfgar said somewhat reluctantly, not sure of the Bishop's motives.

The Bishop smiled. "You have difficulty trusting others, why?"

Wulfgar shrugged.

"I would like to find out. You can trust me, Wulfgar. I am your friend and wish only to protect and look after you, as Yajmha, the creator of all things, looks out for all children under his creation," the Bishop said.

"I...I have never been able to depend on anyone. It is better if I depend on myself," the boy finally answered.

"I see, you are afraid of getting hurt. You can depend on me, Wulfgar, with Yajmha as my witness."

"I want to believe you, My Lord."

"Then take a leap of faith. If you never place your faith in others, you will miss out on so much. Friendship, love, the wonders of the world. Yes, you may get hurt sometimes, but you must believe me when I say it is worth it to try. Now will you place your trust in me?"

Wulfgar gazed at the handsome man for some time then nodded his head slowly. "I will," he decided.

The Bishop smiled. "Then trust that what I do for you is for your welfare, and the welfare of all people. Now open your mind to me," he said, and pressed his warm hand against the boy's cheek. Wulfgar let down his guards and the man felt his mind open to him. "You will sleep now Wulfgar." As he said this, the boy fell dead asleep, and he caught him in his arms.

The Bishop lifted him up and carried him to his private quarters, where he laid him on a deep cushioned couch of leather. As Wulfgar slept, the Bishop broke down the boy's powerful mental barriers. He probed Wulfgar's mind to unearth his past and then began to restructure his memory. It was a meticulous process. Each memory the Bishop erased had to be replaced with an implanted memory which fit into the annuls of his true memories. Wulfgar would not know what he was when the Bishop was finished with him. His father had raised him, yes, but he had never told him what he was. All his life his father had struggled innocently against enemies, which the Bishop turned into vampires, demons, devils and other dark races. He altered the memory of his father leaving him into him being brutally murdered in front of Wulfgar, by a demon. The Bishop was clueless of the irony therein. The last memory he planted was of himself saving the boy's life as the demon attempted to kill him. He also implanted Wulfgar having placed his absolute trust in him and a son's affection for him. Brick by brick he rebuilt Wulfgar's past to place him in his control and when he was done with his memory three days later, he called on a friar to bring a good meal and plenty of water for the boy. When the meal was delivered and placed on the coffee table between he and the boy, and the friar was dismissed; the Bishop seated himself across the room in an armchair then woke Wulfgar from his oblivious sleep.

Wulfgar felt woozy when he awakened. He sat up slowly and swung around to face the Bishop. He looked around the room then his gaze settled on the Bishop. "What...what happened? What am I doing in your quarters?"

"It is alright, Wulfgar. You fainted three days ago and have slept ever since. I could not wake you. You have not been eating propperly and I believe it has made you weak. Please, eat. I have sent for a meal every night, in case you roused."

Wulfgar was famished and very shaky from a lack of sustenance and fluids. Within half an hour he had polished off the meal and drank all of the water. Afterwards he pushed the plate aside, then leaned back into the comfortable sofa. "Thank you, Bishop Treborn. You are very kind."

"It is time for you to begin your training, Wulfgar. Are you still agreeable to being a hunter?"

As far as Wulfgar knew, he had agreed to become a hunter for the church and the secret chapter of slayers which the Bishop had established. It was one of the memories the Bishop had implanted and rooted deeply inside of the boy as a result of all the persecution he and his father had suffered at the hands of dark immortals. "I am eager to get started," Wulfgar assured him.

So it came that Wulfgar was trained to become a determined, fearless but cautious Templar of the Church and to hunt down and kill the very races his own race was built on. His training began when he was twelve and continued until the day he left the chapter. He was trained to investigate targets, to know when a target outclassed him, and when to call on the support of his templar brothers. He was sent on his first mission with his brothers when he was fourteen, for he learned very quickly, and on that mission slew a demonic lion guard and a demonic guard dog, both of which he drained of blood after wounding them to assimilate their forms and increase his stamina.

By the time Wulfgar turned eighteen he had killed many demons, demonic animals, lycanthrope, vampires, a few devils, and several fallen angels. He and his fellowship were the wrath of God under Bishop Treborn's guidance. One demon had thrown him off of a ship into giant eel infested waters. Wulfgar killed all but one of the eels which attacked him. The last was a huge Mhoraug (great eel) which he killed by wounding it and then draining it of its blood; whereof he assimiliated its form and swam to shore.

A vampire had captured him when he was eighteen and hunting alone. The wonderful scent of Wulfgar's Deluvian blood had appealed to the vampire. The arabic vampire was too powerful for Wulfgar to take down alone. The vampire was impressed with the fight the youth put up. The vampire strapped him to a massive chair and to insure that Wulfgar did not escape; he continually wounded him and drained his blood to weaken him. He tortured him and did unspeakable things to the tasty Deluvian for months on end. When Wulfgar was not being subjected to torture he was kept strapped in the same chair. The vampire's crow familiar often landed on him and pecked at his open wounds. Then one morning; when it perched on his collar bone to get at the exposed meat of his chest, Wulfgar snapped his head forward and sank his fangs into the bird to drain it of its blood until it was dead, claiming its form. He had not the strength to shift however, particularly into a new form which was more demanding. A rat too came to gnaw on him in that dank chamber he was imprisoned in, and he killed it as he had the crow. The vampire was furious when he returned to find that the unknown immortal had killed his two familiars and he attacked Wulfgar viciously. Having no idea that Wulfgar was harder to kill than he appeared, the vampire drained the immortal of as much blood as he could syphon from him then cut him to pieces. He completely dismembered him in a blood rage which Wulfgar's delicious life's nectar fueled. After beheading the slayer, he disposed of his body parts in a furnace, burning them to ash. He never noticed the shadowy form of ether which escaped the body as Wulfgar made his escape in Astral form.

Wulfgar stole away to the Church, and there in his room he lie his astral form down on his bed and slept. Five days later he awoke fully restored in body. His mind was another matter however. All the mental restructuring both his grandfather and Bishop Treborn had done without his knowledge was lost. He remembered his life exactly as it truly was. He had been betrayed in the worst possible way. It was a cruel awakening which flooded him with rage, guilt, remorse and grief. All of those he had killed...there were only two he would not regret killing. Sayid...the vampire he had just days ago escaped, had attacked him unprovoked. He had not been hunting him when Sayid jumped him. Sayid had been completely unaware that the victim he chose was a slayer of dark immortals. Sayid was simply a sadistic fiend. The things the vampire had done to him in the six months he had kept him as his prisoner was a nightmare Wulfgar would not soon forget. Sayid had been the first to uncover that Wulfgar was adrogynous, a trait inherited from angelic ancestors. The vampire had exploited that genetic part of his otherwise male physique, and of all the tortures Wulfgar had suffered at that fiend's hands, that was the worst. Wulfgar vowed that he would take his life. His father had been the only other one who ever knew he was not completely male. The other Wulfgar added to his list to be assassinated was Bishop Treborn. That bastard would pay for screwing with his mind and making him believe in lies and deceit. How many men, women, and childrens' blood were on his hands because of that Bishop using him as a tool for his own designs? How many of them had actually deserved death. Oh yes, Treborn would pay with his life. Treborn had truly believed he was cleansing Wulfgar of his father's sins, of the sin of being what he was, by making a slayer of him.

Wulfgar did slay Sayid and he did murder Treborn. He achieved his goal with careful planning and a well trained investigor's and assassin's stealth. Treborn had made a killer of Wulfgar and he was all too good at that occupation. He killed Treborn in his own bed without a trace of evidence, or a witness to suspect Wulfgar of doing the deed. Then Wulfgar trapped all the templars inside the church during one of their meetings, a telekinetic seal locking them in, and burned the church down, and with it the templars, Treborn's corpse, and all the hypocrisy of that institution. He had only intended to kill Treborn, but after he thought of what that church stood for, really stood for, and of the hunts that would continue on any demon, vampire, fallen angel, werewolf, or whatever just because of what they were, and what they represented to the Church, without any consideration of the deeds which defined each creature...Well, Wulfgar could not stand for it in his fragile state of mind.

Sayid was more difficult. He was extremely powerful, too strong for Wulfgar. Still, if a vampire bled enough they weakened and then torped. Getting past his fortitude was the hard part. Wulfgar used a crossbow and bolts with incendiary broad heads. They exploded as they struck bone and burned like the fire of Hell. He positioned himself on the roof of a building across from Sayid's mansion...and waited. On the fifth night of his stakeout, Sayid finally showed himself. It was late at night and he was on his way home. He had a young human woman with him who was clearly dominated. Wulfgar could tell because she acted like she was drunk and dazed at the same time. The second he had a clear shot he released the first bolt and set another. There was a muffled pop as the broad head exploded. He pulled off another shot as Sayid rocked back on his feet. That one struck his heart and then exploded. The girl screamed and ran, his charm over her broken. Wulfgar stood, his wings fully extended, and dove off the roof and swooped down over the vampire. He had expected a fight but got none. The vampire was torped moments after his heart exploded. Wulfgar dropped down on his knees and sank his sharp incisors into his flesh. Blood bubbled up from the muscle he had neatly shaved off, and he drank. He lapped and suckled until the vampire was completely bled out. In doing so he also assimilated Sayid's form. Afterwards he finished him swiftly by beheading him and cutting out his heart. He then drew a circle around him and within it archaic symbols with chalk. It was the Ring of Abbadon, and banished souls into oblivion when a victim was beheaded and their heart was cut out. It was the only way to kill demons of Acheron. Otherwise their souls would escape and possess a new form. The arcanum of the abyss, which Treborn had taught him, was also affective on other souls. Wulfgar then cut what was left of his heart out, beheaded him and the chalk flared blue for a moment as the soul was plunged. If the chalk stayed white it meant a soul escaped. His gaze then fell on Sayid's left hand as he bagged the heart and head. It was his father's ring. Sayid had taken it from him. Wulfgar reclaimed the ring, plunged Sayid's corpse and the bagged body parts through a planar gate, and returned to the rooftop to collect his things and jet.

Wulfgar had one last man to track down; his grandfather, Aeros Nystori. He was not sure yet that he wanted to kill him. He would decide that after he confronted him. Finding him was not easy, in fact, it was impossible. He could have been anywhere. Wulfgar finally found him by calling out his name many times, repeatedly, over a period of two months. Aeros finally came to him. Wulfgar asked him why he had killed his father, and Aeros sighed deeply and answered him with the truth.

"Your grandmother and I raised your father well, Wulfgar. But there was a flaw in his nature which nothing could tame. He was very chaotic, which some Deluvians are as a result of the very foundation their kind are built on. He was a first generation of his kind. I had no desire to kill him, but he broke a law by many counts that he knew very well carried a penalty of death. Bestiality is strictly forbidden, and he conceived many therianthrope and lycanthrope from his loins from many kinds of animals. The order was given to execute him and I volunteered to carry out the deed. Lucian was my son and I did not want another taking his life. I chose to hunt him because I love him. Your father is an exceptional warrior and I wanted him to suffer as little as possible. Killing him is...was difficult. I am sorry, Wulfgar, but I had no choice."

"And why did you meddle with my memories?" Wulfgar demanded to know.

"Because I did not want you to hate me. You are my blood and I love you."

Wulfgar scoffed. "You love me so much that you left me alone to fend for myself when I was only ten years old. Forgive me if I doubt your sincerity."

"I regret that as well, Wulfgar, but I could not take you where I dwelt, and I only leave my lair when I am called to perform a duty," Aeros explained vaguely.

"And just where is it you were so sure you could not take me?"

"Acheron, Wulfgar, I dwell in Acheron."

"Hell?" Wulfgar reiterated.

"Yes. I am the Morning Star's knight," Aeros confirmed.

"What difference, I have already lived in hell! I would rather have been with you! You could have explained, I would have come to understand it!"

Aeros rested his hand on Wulfgar's shoulder to feel the tension which locked his lean muscles. "You might think that, Nightwind, but one cannot enter there unless they give themselves to the Morning Star or another Prince, and Acheron proves one loyal in ways so terrible as you cannot imagine. Trust me when I say, that whatever you have suffered, Acheron would make it seem like a day in a theme park in comparison."

Wulfgar shook his head. "There are equal hells on the upper worlds of the Middle Kingdom! Gaze into my mind and tell me I have not suffered hell!"

Aeros took him up on that invite. He gazed at him for a long time, and Wulfgar stared right back at him as he skimmed his mind like a book with a photographic inner eye. Wulfgar opened his mind wide to the powerful and absurdly ancient Arcanon. When his grandfather had seen his entire life unfold before his eyes, he closed the book of Wulfgar's mind and breathed a heavy sigh. Calm as he looked, he was broiling with rage within. He would find that vampire's soul and show him the heart of Hell then bring the Bishop's soul to him for company.

"I am sorry for all you have been through, Wulfgar. It appears my fate has somehow intertwined with yours. I experienced some very simimilar events ages ago. I was once tricked against my better judgement and nature to hunt my own brethren as well."

"And you still do," Wulfgar observed.

"Yes, but not as I did then. I am no longer a murderer, I am an agent of justice," Aeros compared.

"And what is the true difference, grandfather?" Wulfgar asked with stiff cynacism.

"Those I hunt now are insufferable fiends or destructive fools who threaten to unbalance the worlds they reside on. I kill the likes of that vampire you drank, and worse."

"I do not want to be a killer," Wulfgar stated quietly.

"Then don't," Aeros said.

"But I could not stand still to watch another suffer at the hands of such monsters either," Wulfgar added.

"Then don't," Aeros said with a smile. "Can I give you some advice?"

Wulfgar raised his eyes on him to meet his gaze and nodded. There was no denying his grandfather's wisdom.

"Follow your heart and do what you think is right, Nightwind. Redeem yourself from the sins you were coerced to commit by not allowing your experiences to corrupt the goodness within you. You have done terrible things, as I once did, but that does not mean your soul is lost or beyond redemption, or that you cannot make what you will of the life ahead of you. Follow your heart, Wulfgar, for good it is, despite everything, you are a good man. Make me and your grandmother proud, bless her dear soul."

"I will try my best, My Lord," Wulfgar vowed.

"Grandfather?"

"Yes, Wulfgar?"

"What happened to grandmother?"

"My greatest enemy killed her and destroyed her soul," Aeros answered with regret.

"Is her murderer dead?"

"I am still working on that," the ranger stated soberly.

"Who killed her?"

Aeros shook his head. "That I shall never tell you. He is far too powerful for you. Should you even speak his name it would invite his regard." The ranger then embraced his grandson and Wulfgar returned it fiercly. "I will check in on you from time to time, when I can. This I promise," he vowed then withdrew through a gate of azure flames.

Wulfgar never forgot his grandfather's words. He lived by them, and though he seldom saw him, Aeros Nystori was always with him. Wulfgar continued to hunt, but only those who were true fiends and preyed on the innocent. He had been forced once to kill a human youth who made the mistake of trying to rob him. The boy had shot him when he refused to give up his ring, and kept shooting at him when Wulfgar had warned it would be the death of him if he did not stop. Wulfgar had claimed his likeness as well. Those who were too powerful for Wulfgar to take down, he alerted his grandfather to. The judgment of Aeros was infallible. He had taken up his grandfather's calling in life. It was a dangerous profession but some things were worth risking your life for. Wulfgar also worked at odd jobs. He worked construction, as a painter, hauling refuse away in the truck he bought; he filled in for bartenders who were sick or on vacation, he fixed cars, whatever he could learn and do. He saved his money and bought an old building by the riverfront and turned it into an office and home. Those few who knew what he did for a living, he was very cautious about who he told, hired him when something came up that he could handle. As time passed his skills grew and would continue to improve, and as his power and forte increased his targets would get more dangerous. Nystori stayed with him from time to time in his little run down office and instructed him in the finer points of practicing and mastering his arcanum and inborn abilities. He also instructed him in sword techniques. He was pleased to discover that Wulfgar was very discreet and private about his moonlighting job. Outside of his office was a sign that read; Nightwind's Services, Need a Job Done? Just Ask."

Those few contacts Wulfgar had retained in the police department who knew he was a death contractor were not even sure it was Wulfgar doing the actual killing. It did not matter. He got the job done when he agreed to take a job. Wulfgar went after no one unless he was sure they had to die and that he was not outclassed. Like his grandfather, Wulfgar did not limit his horizons to Eros or even Morashtar. He traveled to other worlds as well. He was a planes walker, and the boundaries of a world's hemispheres did not constrain him.

A Step Back in Time

It was like taking a step, only a really big step, one of the steps where you think you missed a step but didn't, and nearly landed on your ass. That is how it was to step from one entirely different time into another to Wulfgar's senses. He was a planar, but he had not lived nearly long enough to 'get used' to the feeling. That feeling of vertigo is not what drew that flummoxed expression across his fair facial features however. No, it was the fact that where he expected there to be a city, there was a forest. It was the kind of forest he remembered on his home world (he mistakenly believed that he had traveled to another world rather than another time); dark, ancient, trees as tall or taller than sky scrapers, and the undergrowth when there was any, was so thick you could not see what lie on the other side. The moment he stepped through, he just stared, standing as stock still as a photograph, with exception of that pair of quick silver eyes which panned the jungle tangles around him. "Phuck..." he breathed the word, wondering how he could have gotten lost when he was on his way to a city that was like a second home to him. Eros was his home town, and the biggest city in his homeworld. With a shake of his head he started walking. He could not try and correct his destination yet. He had to regain himself before attempting. It drained a lot of energy walking across the universal trails. He saw a path ahead of him as he walked away from the understory and through open jungle. His eyes locked on a tree as he passed it. He knew those leaves...That tree was native to Morashtar. Had someone subverted his path? That notion had a pair of white clawed thumbs releasing the snaps on a pair of holsters, and two very large pistols sliding out of their leather casings thereafter. His posture took on a whole new attitude as well. He was tense, alert, and very aware of his dangerously crowded surroundings. Trees made a more dangerous crowd than people in his opinion, because they concealed, let one blend in, but told no tales. His long flaxen hair hung loose on his shoulders and his borderline albino skin did not blend him into the wilderness. His black clothes aside, he stood out like a white flag.

Wulfgar could be stealthy when he needed to be, usually to break in into a place, but let's face it, Wulfgar Nystori aka Nightwind was an ass kicker and forest stealth was not a normal prerequisite for his occupation, and was not the same as city stealth. Had anyone been unkind to Wulfgar? A handful. A priest who had rebuilt him on lies, a vampire named Sayid, whose embodiment was now tucked inside of him to bring to the surface at will. The other rather covered the rest; Lady Fate. She had been more unkind to him than anyone else. He had experienced enough to make him edgy when things were not as they should be. His gaze did not monopolize the ground, or the darker shaded areas between and around the trees, but rolled, dipped and shifted to included the branches and leafy nets above him as well. Had he not passed behind a tree during one of these inclusive sweeps of his light grey eyes, he might have spied the female in the tree. A little further along, something arrested his strides once again however, and drew his gaze fast as superglue. It was nothing remarkable really, unless you were a total nature fanatic, which Wulf was not, obviously. It was a rock. A large rock of unusual shape, but still an ordinary boulder for the better, that his gaze and demeanor should be so amazed by it. He leaned over and placed his hand against it, then felt its contours. He walked around it, rubbing the top of his head in dumbfound with the butt of his overlarge sidearm. "What the hell?! Just what the phuck?" It could be said that Wulfgar cussed like a sea-born sailor. He did indeed. The deluvian who looked for the most part human, with exception of claws and fangs that could not be wished away, kicked the boulder then hopped around in pain, because well, it hurt when you kicked a boulder. This must have all seemed very strange to the female. Unless she was from Wulfgar's time, she might never have laid eyes on a gun, albeit there was no mistaking that it was a weapon. Weapons of most kinds were hard to mistake and guns certainly screamed PAIN and DEATH with their appearance. Huffing a breath he collapsed on a flattish spot which protruded from the boulder, and there leaned his back against the part which thrust up twice as tall as he was. The rock had several such natural seats around it. It was unique to be sure, a 'neat' rock, but Wulfgar's behavior was telling of either a crazy man, or something very specific being at work.

Wulfgar's handsome face was riddled with expressions which communicated that here was a male that nothing was making sense to. He looked as worried as he did confused. His eyes were half wild, long lashes the color of sunlit dried grass flickering in and out of thoughts processes, as they panned here and there to comb the scenery, every rise and dip in the land, the sound of a creek drawing his attention fixedly for a moment, before a soft but audible groan issued past those kissably full lips that had never been kissed consensually. "This cannot be..." he talked to himself quietly. Wulfgar had never accidentally traipsed backwards or forward in time, and was not even sure it was possible. Hell, he had no idea how to time travel at all. All he knew without a shadow of doubt cast on his certainty, was that this was the same damn rock that was in the park in Marcav City. He was home, on Morashtar, his homeworld, only it was long before he had ever been born. In place of Marcav City was the vast forestland which had surrounded it even in Wulfgar's time. What would he find in place of Eros, where his business was?! He recalled something he had learned in history... It had once been called Castleguard, and then Hawker's Fort, and then Castleguard again, before the last war which resulted in its renaming as Eros. This was all very disturbing to Wulfgar. Did he even exist? If he had not been born yet, how could he be there? Was time so infinite that there might be dozens... hundreds... or even thousands of Morashtars in different time lines? Nevermind the fact that something very strange had to have occured at some point in time for him to have tripped over the wrong line coming home. It was all a little too much for the young immortal to contemplate, all far too unnerving. A sudden headache stabbed at his right temple and made his eye wince half closed. Now had he known that Aeros knew he might be there, that might help him understand a little better... That something physical, constant, and tangible had changed, otherwise would he (Aeros) not have gone to the future to meet him? He massaged his temple with the heel of his palm, pistol still in hand. It would be easily clear to one observing him that his guns were like an extention of his hands to him. One of those guns swung suddenly off to his left flank as he caught a hint of motion from the corner of his eye and the muzzle of the pistol leveled with a pretty face. His eyes thinned on her, one more than the other, and he just stared at her for an interval, measuring her, before the air fled from his lungs and he lowered his aim. "Been watching me for awhile haven't you, rhian?" Rhian was the Esurian equivalent of miss. "Well I am not crazy, if that is what you are thinking." His full lips sealed and his eyes leveled with her a moment then he laughed. "Well, maybe I am crazy, but what has my pathetic goatee in a knot is that I am lost... so damn lost." Yeah, by a couple of thousand years at least!! "So you live here, in the trees, or what?" he asked, gesturing to the trees with his firearms, and his eyes alike before his focus settled back on her again in a lock. Great way to meet your sister, only he did not know yet that she was his sister.