Born a sickly babe to poor parents in a village that no longer exists, Tigorm would never have outlived his mother were it not for the old village crone that placed a cheap pendant around his neck and demanded the village protect him. So they did, until years later, that same pendant was stolen. Tigorm grabbed the largest weapon he could find, tracked the thief, and left little more than a bloodstain. The village exiled him, relieved to be rid of the odd, unhealthy man.
Tigorm wandered the wilderness, content to be alone. Yet he soon fell ill, and as he lay dying, a vision of a crone appeared to him. “It is not yet your time,” she said, just before he woke in the labyrinth. This grim dungeon seems sure to end him, but perhaps there is yet more to his life.
