Born to a high-class family who didn't really want a child, nor have the time to care for one, Maulnar was placed in the care of the church of Sahlyncirle in the hopes that he'd become a high priest or something. In reality, his parents didn't care for his future at all, just so long as he'd not taint their name he could do whatever he wanted and the church of Sahlyncirle seemed like the most prestigious choice in the matter. For ten years this scheme worked out perfectly, but as the boy got older his curiosity grew beyond just the teachings of the church. Whereas this 'unhealthy' curiosity could be easily maintained while he was small, it became more difficult with each passing year. As Maulnar studied harder, he neglected his "holy" duties more and more until the church decided they'd no longer accept this behaviour and thus throw him out.
Without the care of the church, Maulnar was forced to return to his parents' house. Both parties were equally uninterested in the other and Maulnar was able to continue his studies of anatomy and alchemy. Were it not for the promise of a doctor's title, Maulnar would most likely be thrown out of the house. Two more years he spent back home. After that, he gained the right to legally operate on people and with that, he left his hometown.
Maulnar could've lived a very good life. A doctor among the upper-class, people who could and would pay a fortune to stay alive. People too stupid to know about anything themselves, whom he could give fake prescriptions as they would believe every word he'd say. But it wasn't money Maulnar cared for, nor fame or the well-being of his fellow men. It was knowledge he seeked and he knew the only place he could experiment to gain the knowledge he seeked was the battlefield. A place his skill would've been so desired, he'd be free to do as he pleased regardless of societal convention.
At twenty, Maulnar was certainly the youngest practitioner of medicine among the many highly-trained doctors and priests and he'd only be given the easiest of tasks as nobody trusted him around severe cases. However, this quickly changed with the large amount of casualties of war and the little amount of people qualified to take care of them and he was soon recognized for the skills he had, except for amongst the priests. Some of them he knew, and they knew him. Maulnar despised the priests and their reliance on magic to aid the soldiers who were faced with death. These people wanted to live, and the uncertainty magic brought with it didn't work in his eyes.
Magic was the only field of science Maulnar didn't care to study because he believed it was impossible to do so. It only relied on faith and hoping the gods would even care, he'd say.
With his broad spectrum of academic subjects, his incredible intelligence, constant experimentation and his unrelenting tenacity Maulnar quickly made a name for himself in the academic world and was regularly updated on important matters that went on out of sight of the general population. Such as the dragon hunts. A new metal would be 'tested' against the dragon's scales, though few dared enter a dragon's lair, let alone anger it by trying to kill it. Practically laughing in their faces, Maulnar promised to not only lead the party to a dragon, but to personally document the fight, dissect the dragon and write down anything else that would seem important.
Maulnar had always regarded dragons with the highest of respect and believed them equal to gods, except that these creatures could actually be seen and physically interacted with, so he believed any attempt at murdering these creatures was certain doom. The few casualties that the dragons had suffered before he blamed on humans picking out the weakest of the bunch, dragons who were on the verge of dying anyway. However, what he didn't expect was for the metal to be successful in piercing the dragon's scales. As the first volley of arrows flew, Maulnar had to hold back his laughter, but when the arrows didn't deflect and once the dragon screamed in pain did his expression turn to horror. From there, he could only watch as the party charged the panicked creature and eventually slew it. While the party suffered many losses, this hunt was deemed successful. Maulnar was forced to fulfill his promise and the rumors about the new metal spread like wildfire. Maulnar gained the title of 'dragon hunter' and became one of the most respected individuals among the academic world, his documentation published for the world to see.
Hunting dragons quickly became very common and dragon-hunter was the best-paying profession out there. But with the great amount of hunters came a great amount of losses. Maulnar, haunted by the nightmares of his actions, tried to stop this madness, even if it meant risking his own life doing so. He tried halting the efforts of hunting parties and warning the dragons of the oncoming danger and while he managed to save some of them, there wasn't much he could do on his own. Ten years he spent trying to prevent the dragons' extinction, but while his title as the first great dragon hunter made every party accept him along for the hunt, his scheme eventually fell through and he was banned from any dragon activity, shunned as a dragon sympathiser.
Forty-four years old and already responsible for the extinction of an entire species of majestic creatures, the man fell into a depression. When he came home, he found his parents had died in his absence and left him their mansion as well as their fortune. His actions had brought wealth to their name, though he cared not for them. He sat idly in his home for a whole year, only speaking when the housemaid asked him a question that needed answering. His life was devoid of purpose, nothing he could ever do would forgive him for what he'd done, but he was too scared of Hell to commit suicide.
One day, as he was going through his research which went all the way back into his teens Maulnar came across a nursery rhyme, though what interested him about this was the child's handwriting next to it.
Among the streets, a kingdoms ghost. - I'm not afraid.
A beggar waited, always lost. - I will show him the way.
A craft for trade, an act to share. - I will share with him my belongings.
None would listen, none would care. - I will listen, I will care.
Hunger swallowed, kindness borrowed. - I will feed him my kindness.
People perish, never followed. - I will follow him.
Never sated, endless horror. - I will comfort him.
The dream is pleasant, no pain fester.
Keep him happy, trade or share. - I will keep him happy.
Any face and anywhere. - I will find him.
Hand of Hunger. - Hand of Hunger.
Wants. - Gets.
His. - His.
Fair. - Fair.
The old man remembered his childish dreams of finding this myth and befriending it. Everyone knew about The Hand of Hunger, the bogeyman that wandered the world without a clear goal. Perhaps he would know what Maulnar could do. It was his only option, but a drowning man will clutch at a straw and Maulnar seemed to revive there and then, dead set about finding the Hand of Hunger. But to find a lost wanderer he had to become a lost wanderer, or so he figured. With his family's fortune he commissioned his mansion to be rebuilt into an orphanage before he left his hometown once more. For good this time.
Twelve whole years Maulnar wandered the lands of Helniclaiir with only his original documentation of the first successful dragon-hunt to keep the memories fresh and stay going. And at long last, as he was about to doze off against a tree in the middle of some woods he heard footsteps, unnatural footsteps that simply walked past his little camp without paying it any attention. Without a moment of hesitation Maulnar stated he wished to trade with the creature. Its head immediately turned with a snap, though Maulnar could only see two empty, white eyes staring at him from the darkness and hear those unnatural footsteps approaching him. Once in the light of his campfire, Maulnar could examine the tall, slender figure that was Hand of Hunger though he had little time to do so. Maulnar begged the monster for a way to atone for his sins and would trade him his original documentation which held information he hadn't published. A trade of information he wanted from the creature and the Hand of Hunger accepted, taking his papers and handing him a paper in return. Maulnar nodded thankfully and waited for the Hand of Hunger to leave before opening the scroll he received.
As the footsteps grew distant, he could swear they also changed sound, but the man paid no further attention to this as he was too eager to find out what it was he could do. The scroll appeared to be a map with a location marked on it, a large building in the middle of a city, though as far as Maulnar knew there wasn't anything in those parts of the land. Unsure what this meant, Maulnar had no option but to follow the map to his destination. Eventually, he arrived at this "city". It was old, ruined and completely overgrown with one building being the least damaged; the church. Confused by what this could mean, Maulnar began looking around every part of the building and later on started to look inside the ruins of the rest of the city, but he found nothing. With nowhere left to turn, the man gave in and began praying to the Gods in front of an surprisingly good-looking altar. And his prayer was answered. A man would come to him in the church, so Maulnar waited.
An entire day had passed and Maulnar hadn't moved an inch, until an even older man approached him and asked him if he was the one Sahlyncirle gave him a vision of. Maulnar nodded and followed the man down a secret stairway beneath the church, where he was updated on everything. To atone for his sins, Maulnar was to give his life to the church and he obliged, receiving the title King of Darkness in the church's sect, though never to speak of this with anyone, not even the dead, whom he would be working with for the rest of his life.
Given divine purpose and a golden sickle, Maulnar resumed his wandering lifestyle, looking for souls who need guidance to the afterlife.
