Blood in Ferelden
Harralan was a skilled hunter and tracker for his clan, but known for having a temper and a ertain amount of arrogance about his abilities. He dreamed of the days when his people were the masters of the land, with great cities and nations of their own, not dispirited wanderers living out of wagons and performing shows and tricks for very people who oppressed and enslaved them. They were better than that; they should be better.
The indignity at the human village of Vintiver was the final straw of Harralan’s pride; that those quickling fools dared to speak to him in such a way! Worse yet, that his own elders admonished him for it! The hunter stewed and fumed as the clan left the insignificant village behind and continued on their journey, as Harralan was exiled to scouting alone in the woods to cool his anger, but he merely stoked the flames of it the more he thought about it.
So his mind and spirit were primed to hear the call of the demon bound in the mystic Link of Rage. Drawn by that siren call, with hooks planted deep in Harralan’s own anger, the hunter found the hidden vale where the ruins of the keep lay, bypassed its defenses, and took hold of the Link of Rage. All of his anger and hatred poured into it, magnified and returned a thousand times over. The Chain exploded and Harralan the elven hunter was no more.
Transformed by the power of the rage demon, the Dalish elf became Mythallen, “child of vengeance.” He felt the power thundering within every fiber of his being, the power to take revenge on those who mocked him, on the people who degraded his own. Moreover, he knew that he had the power to lead his clan, his people, along a different path.