The Luna family lived in the Shudderwoods, across the Mountray River, to the north and west of Schloss Caromarc of Vieland. A family of woodsmen, by trade, who would cut and haul timber to the river, to float it to Vieland for sale. For a number of years the family eked out a living in the rugged, often dangerous woods, however under the protection of Josef Luna and his wife, Yasmina, the family survived the perils, and profitted in their seclusion.
Josef taught his sons, Gavan and Augustin, the secrets of the woods, how to find one's way along it's paths, by the flow of it's streams, the growth of it's trees, and the stars in the sky. He taught them how to hunt, to provide food for their family, and how to skin and clean their kill, so as to respect it's sacrifice for their continued survival. Oft times the Vielander's would contract Josef and his fellow foresters, to protect their homesteads from the ravages of the wolf packs which would decend the mountains after particularly harsh winters, starving, and driven to hunting livestock and threatening the family's cowering by their hearths. So it was when Augustin observed, at 13 years of age, such a pack descended upon the Luna's homestead and warned his father of the packs encroachment upon their stand of trees. Josef took axe and torch and gathered local woodsmen to drive the starving wolves away.
That night however, Josef stumbled back to the house, his right arm a ragged stump, bone and sinew visible through the shreds of flesh and skin, burst through the homesteads door, calling for his wife and children. Urging them to flee down the Mountray towards Vieland, for a great evil had descended from the mountains with the wolves that year, and it would soon be upon them. Josef dropped the shattered haft of his axe and rekindled the brand in his left hand by plunging it into the Luna's hearth, while Yasmina herded the boys through the common room, rapidly preparing them for their flight through the darkened woods. A howl echoed through the night air, one so wicked and foul that, to this day, if Augstin recalls it, he shudders.
A form, monstrously large, it stood on crooked legs, arms thick with unnaturally corded muscles, and hands ending in claws the length of a pitchfork stepped through the brush, a pack of thin, starving, snarling wolves emerging from the wooded shadows behind it. His mother screamed at him, pulling his arm so fiercely it tugged him from his feet, she yelled at her sons to run, even as their father roared at the abomination. Augustin fled with his brother and mother, even as he heard the wet, gurgling screams of his father as the fanged monstrosity savaged the man who had raised the young boy from a child.
They followed the river, for minutes that seemed to stretch into hours, roots reaching up from damp earth to tangle their clothes, trip them, unbalance them, all the while the baying of the slavering jaws that pursued them. The aberration's pack had found them, and were leading their monstrous master to the only surviving members of that once tranquil homestead. Yasmina was taken down first, two gaunt, starving wolves lunging at her skirts, pulling her to the ground, feasting on her flesh, the ripping, the tearing, and his mother's screams haunted Augustin for years. Gavan pushed his brother into the bole of a great willow tree, and turned to fight the encroaching pack. However, the pack began to slink away as the behemoth, almost humanoid wolf stepped into the clearing, it's muzzle dark red with their father's blood. It lunged, and Gavan swung a small log ineffectually, the force of it's impact threw the elder brother into the bole as well, and there it proceeded to disembowel him, Augustin, pushed deep into the recess of the tree watched on in horror.
He doesn't remember when the wolves left, or how he survived the night, he just remembers that he wandered the pathways of the forest, like a ghost, the horrors he had witnessed had drawn a pall over his thoughts, his heart, perhaps his soul. He was discovered by a neighboring forester, his back brutally torn by tooth and claw, his left shoulder savaged by some great beast, blood caked on his wounds, in his scalp, wandering, alone, in a daze. The good-natured woodsmen, Sergei, recognizing the boy as the youngest son of the Luna family took him to Lepidstadt, realizing that his wounds were well beyond his wife's, not insignificant, skills of healing. On their journey to Vieland's capital, Sergei was able to coax the young boy's story from him, though largely dismissed it's content as some sort of fever induced dream.
Professor Lorrimor encountered the odd duo on his way to the University of Lepidstadt, there to give a lecture. In the carriage beside him was his daughter, Kendra, herself only 11 years old, it was, perhaps the similar age of the young, greviously wounded, and obviously fevered young boy that drew both his attention and compassion. Lorrimor arranged for the woodsmen and his young charge to be led to the University's burgeoning Heal Arts department, in which he, personally tended Augustin's wounds, with the aid of his daughter. He induced the young man into a coma, activating a period of healing and recuperation, while he ministered to the young boy's wounds. During his coma, Augustin spoke, in fits of lucidity, of the horrors he had witnessed, and suddenly Lorrimor feared an affliction far worse than a malady of the mind, but an affliction of the soul, lycanthropy.
When the young boy woke, Lorrimor agreed to foster him during his time at the University, knowing he would be there for several months of lectures. During that time Augustin spoke often with Kiara, the young girl, tutored by her illustrious father, skilled in aritmetic, and literacy, taught the uneducated man both to read, and write. She taught him to identify the herbs that would be required for him to know, as her father had instructed the wounded young man to apply his own poultices, and brew his own tea, one made from distilled Wolves Bane, to keep the lycanthropy at bay. His time with Lorrimor and his daughter was cut short, when the Professor was recalled to his home. However, he had been equipped by the two, with the knowledge required to keep his affliction at bay.
He returned to the homestead of Segei, and worked with the woodsmen's family for a time, however, after an intense confrontation with their own son, they asked the young man to leave, concerned that he was, in fact, cursed. And so at 13 years old began a life of solitude, he returned to his family's own homestead, recovered and returned their mortal remains, and buried his father, mother, and brother in the garden outside the homestead's shattered, bloodied door. Unable to remain there due to the nightmares that afflicted him, both wile asleep and awake, he collected a memento of his youth, some tools that would be required to forage a living within the wood, and burnt the homestead to the ground, while whispering a silent prayer to Pharasma that their souls would be carried to salvation.
He eked out a living foraging, and trapping small animals, at first selling firewood to local woodsmen and trappers, who, out of respect for his father, supported the wild youth with a few coppers here and there. Eventually his body, hardened by the hard life of labor he had chosen for himself, began to fill out, and so, he enlisted with the Militia. Initially he prospered, stoic, self disciplined and controlled, however, it soon became apparent that there were troubling deep waters beneath the calm, quiet exterior. A series of conflict, both with his fellow soldiers, and eventually even officers spoke poorly of the young man, and so he was dismissed from the position. However, now broader, and more powerful than the young boy he had been on enlisting, he was able to market his services as a guide, and huntsman in the Shudderwoods.
Though feared by the superstitious woodsmen, they oft came to him should their homes, or labor camps suffer depridations of the roving wolf packs. In fact, one such pack had a carriage stuck in a rut, it's horses broke free, chased off by the slavening beasts. Only after Augustin had slain the alpha and his bitch, had the rest of the pack broken. When he opened the door, he saw the beautiful face of Kendra and her father, the good Professor. They spent a single night encamped by the carriage, Lorrimor inquiring as to his former patient's health, while Augustin himself admired the fine young woman that his benefactor's daughter had grown into. That morning he assisted the Lorrimor's in repairing their wagon, even going so far as to track down the frightened horses by light of day, and while they then went their seperate ways, he still remembers the Professor fondly.
THat is why, upon receiving news of his death he was so stricken as to make the long trek to Ravengro.
Augustin is a man of extreme, and often conflicting values. Due to the horrors afflicted upon both himself, and his family, he has been shunned by his neighbours and peers, feared for the taint of lycanthropy that courses through his veins, his violent, often brutish impulses. He, himself, views those polite, urbane, civilized folks as soft, and weak, hiding from the wilds that surround them in walled cities, as if that could keep the barbarity of the wilds from their pathetic lives. Yet, at the same times he craves companionship, comraderie, and loyalty, and values those things above all else.
The only positive experience with civilized, educated people he has had was with the good Professor and his daughter, in fact, he still carries three books of Fae Tales for children given him by Kendra. He lost his family and seeks to find that same sense of self, of belonging with others, yet he has constantly been shunned or let down when he tried to open himself up to those relationships, so he has begun to keep people at arm's length waiting for the inevitable betrayal of his trust. He is a stoic, taciturn man, given to self reliance and a sense of confidence that comes with a life of solitude confined to the wilds where most would choose not to travel. His attitude changes notably when confronted by children, as they remind him of his own youth, and the playful, inquisitive nature of his own brother, Gavan.
Due to the horrific night he spent in the bole of the tree, his brother disemboweled and slain before his eyes, Agustin has a compulsion to remove the blood, gore and filth from his body at soonest convenience. He does not shy from battle for sight, or scent, of blood, he does however, take great care in ensuring that it does not linger on his person. This compulsion is to the extent that he has taken a coarse horse brush and scrubed his skin raw to remove the blood of his foes.
Augustin feels a bond of kinship with the woodsmen and foresters of the Shudderwoods, and despite the fact that they, in general, fear and shun him, he remembers the relationships that their families had with his own and seeks to honor those memories. In return they may often provide him food, water, or supplies, but are unlikely to invite him within their own homes for fear of inviting an evil across their threshold. These are rugged, hearty, folks, and while their actions may hurt him, he maintains a grudging respect for them, and their ability to survive within the confines of the wilds. If possible, he will visit the site of the Luna's Homestead annually, to pay his respects to the family that he lost those fifeteen years ago.
He has sworn to expunge the corruption that is lycanthropy from the woods the he calls home, and while he has not yet been able to track down the skin-shifter that slaughtered his family those many years ago, he has never stopped searching. Despite evidence to the contrary, he feels as though the beast is still alive, and will actively pursue leads that would indicate there is the activity of shifters in any area through which he was travelling. One would think that he would harbor a great fear of the slavering beast, and wolves in general, however, they instil in him a powerful hatred, a blind rage, and peculiar savagery within him. He takes great pride in the wolf cloak he wears, not because it is fine, or well made, but because it contains the skins of every wolf he has slain, and he hopes it continues to grow until it drapes out behind him on the ground.
He is enamored of Kendra Lorrimor, and thinks on her fondly, and with great affection. However, he has convinced himself that she, while kind to him due to their shared history, would not be able to feel an affection for so savage a man as he. While he thinks on her everytime he reads the books of Fae Tales she gifted him as a child, he does not dare hope that his life could become entwined with her own, for her station, her world, is so far above his own.