The Reality of Legends
Virgil Thourn knew something was amiss in the city.
He was just a measly farmer, but not even he was deaf to the haunting howls that could be heard eerily echoing throughout the desolate streets of Surleis, coming from over the Wall, originating from deep within the northern Dusk Forest. He is not oblivious to the ever so slowly decreasing numbers of livestock, which go mysteriously missing during the night, gone without much of a trace.
King Silvertooth tried to assure the citizens of Surleis that nothing was wrong, but behind closed doors and whispered quickly and discreetly behind hands, was a tale of a beast.
A man turned beast. A wolfish creature that bounded throughout the dark and foggy woods, feral eyes a bright yellow and sharp teeth tipped in fresh, dark blood.
A Worgen Sanders Sides AU! (Not Werewolves)
Inspired by the game that I hold very close to my heart, World Of Warcraft.
Just a quick glimpse into how I imagine a young Virgil from my 'It Came From Over The Wall' AU fanfiction that's probably so au you could read it fandom-blind.
Many years ago, when the threat of the Worgen was just a fairytale and Virgil Thorn was just six years old, he went sledding with his father, Andrew Thorn, down the West Bridge near the docks of Surleis for the first snowfall he had ever experienced in his short life.
This is that day.