Ancient script talks of the brother always thirsty for power—seeking to rule over the weaker members of the family. This was not for the glory or for power, but for the sheer pleasure of dominion and inflicting harm at will.
His greatest addiction was hunting.
Not just animals, but creatures who could think for themselves and even fight back.
Such as wild cats, bear…and vallen.
Goaded to anger, Therrin would lure an enraged vallen into the woods and use sophisticated traps to wound and ensnare his prey. When sufficiently slowed, he would kill and skin the vallen…and wear his flesh as a trophy.
Needless to say, war broke out between the tribes and within the season, the therrin were close to extinction.
Second only to that of the Tauku, the therrin were a small tribe, easy to infiltrate by the master of lies.
In the guise of a wandering sorcerer, Mahan bartered with Therrin. He would save the tribe from annihilation and grant unequalled prowess in tracking and hunting in exchange for loyalty and service as his personal assassins.
The deal was struck.
Over the centuries, therrin have taken upon more characteristics of animal than men. Their number remain few—as therrin prefer hunting to breeding offspring—but their ability to move unseen in unequalled without magic.
A therrin’s sense of smell, night vision and hearing are acute. Their thick nails, sharpened to razors are used in lieu of weapons and as a right of maturity, file down their teeth to points.
One trait that has remained since the beginning…is the obsession of wearing the skin of their prey.