The Curse of Talbain

By Talbain

      How can I begin to chronicle my life? I guess I shall begin from my upbringing. I was born in 1865 as Talbain Lunark to an aristocratic family. I had a sheltered childhood, and anything I desired was easily provided for. Life was simple, and I was lucky to be a Lunark. But one thing did bother me. Every time a full moon appeared I would hear dreadful cries emanating from outside my bedroom walls. These howls would not cease until almost dawn, and on these nights I would not be able to sleep due to fear. I would often run to my father on these occasions, but he was nowhere to be found. I had to find solace elsewhere, and did so by huddling under my bed sheets, trying to mute out the hellish cries. During one occasion I was able to find my father the next morning and his clothing was always torn and tattered as if he had just been mauled in some hellacious brawls. I queried into his condition, but he would not tell me what had happened. That is, until I became 16.

      All of a sudden, after years of insomnia, I never again heard those horrific screams. In fact I slept better than I ever had, as I would often be so tired that I would actually not wake up until mid-day. During one of these occasions my father noticed my clothes were torn and shredded. His face grew ghastly white and was barely able to hold himself upright. After many minutes passed, he finally told me where he had been those nights I ran to him but with no avail. He told me that our family was cursed with the werewolf.

      I was in immediate shock, and could not believe his words. Could it be that my perfect life was only a charade? I quickly desired to end this family curse and I hired a doctor named Smoke, who was renown throughout the lands for his powerful magic, to heal me and my father. An appointment was set up one dark, stormy night in our basement. Smoke greeted us well and his older brother Demitri came to make sure Smoke was protected. Smoke was dressed in shimmering black demon armor with diamond studded rings. His very presence illuminated power, grace, yet great fear on my father’s part. He told me “You have nothing to worry about. I am your savior, and I will be able to rid you and your family of this horrible curse.” I quickly thanked the shrouded man, and he requested for me to trust him and allow him to perform hypnosis on me. I consented, and this turned out to be the largest mistake of my life. Smoke was not a healer, but a selfish being of hellish power whose sole purpose was to steal fortune and seek the destruction of my lands. Instead of healing me of my wolfish state, he cursed me and made me a permanent werewolf. While I was in my stunned state, his brother Demitri wielded a jagged darkblade and slaughtered my father then held up his helpless corpse to absorb the last gasps of energy escaping his tormented body. As soon as I regained control of myself, I fled out of my family’s estate and hid in the forest half a mile away. Smoke and Demitri had taken my identity and family, and I now live my life in hopes of one day avenging my father and myself. With my heightened sense of smell, and ability to see invisible entities, I know it is just a matter of time before my revenge is complete.