There are many tales that lurk within the hearts and minds of the folk and monster in Faerun, mostly those that hail from the ports and mountains of Moonsea. Much abandonment to the countryside and shoreline, after wars ravaged the land and left it a bleak and dismal place. Though still hope was sewn to the fabric of legend with the rumour of a warrior that still scoured the hills and hill side graveyard of long forgotten town and ruin, a woman in white with locks of fair and skin of snow, a haunting beauty...

And yet, a story to match; of a howl so searingly mournful and yet brilliant, that stung the silence with drifting sounds, the howl of the She-Wolf, the mystical She-Wolf Warrior of Moonsea, a creature to save those who dwelled too far deep or far, of one who came to ravaged towns to save the women and maim the attackers...All rumoured, all the stuff of legend!

But people believed, too many sightings for these two dazzling creatures to not be real, to be more than myth!

She would spend countless hours in the Fortress, the stoney, shambles of what had been a symbol of hope and strong belief, of hearts and minds and bones and blood, that was now left to shame and be pitied by ocean-eroding winds, and but a perch for seagulls and falcons, and a dwelling for Wyndry...

Home was where the heart was, and where her heart was was home; a matter of fact, wherever her feet were. The dwellings she could make her own, without design or principle, jus a place she knew all the crooks and crannies of, all the secrets-from trapdoors to rooms behind walls, her own haven. Away from man's cruel touch.

She resented that aspect of her, that she could transform. It was a side of herself she used only when she had to, as Wolveyn sometimes seemed a little too threatening for those villagers she had assisted. As most would when a tall She-Wolf was coming at you, with a Golden spear in hand and a stormy sea in her eyes. She had come to help, but most had, initially come screaming. Until the quivering warmth of her voice reached out to them and stoppd them in their frantic steps away with its motherly tenderness, aching breathly wash of words. She would stand tall and proud and wait for them to return, to trust her. Their last hope.

Though after all she had done, she was still alone, still shunned by certain groups, clans, people who saw her kind as a concern, as savage.

Rhy'Din had been a decision she had made firmly. In her heart she knew it had been time to leave the past and begin a new. To help those in need, but for herself to no longer live in hiding. So here she was; bold, brave and beautiful.

And ready to make a Haven away from the Fortress of Moonsea.