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Szarar was a normal man in life, honest, trying to keep a clean living, and support a family with a pesants job. But when the dark attacked his town, he took up arms even though he possessed not the warrior skills. His pitchfork became a weapon, ut it was to no avail. During the battle he lay dying, his innerards laying strewn across the groud from the slash of a werewolf. But he wanted to live. The transformation began, and the natural healing possessed by werewolves kicked in. Fully healthy again, but in a feral rage, irony realed its ugly head. His first victims became his own family, and soon others. |
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