Virin's life was nothing short of unremarkable. Born a single child to a nurse and doctor, his life had little more than work on the fields and the mundane education of natural medicines in a village that sat nestled within a forest outside of Centralis. At the time, he was little more than a farm hand, working the fields to make some manner of pay for his family while his parents made their own work, usually tending to the sick or injured. Occasionally, some of the patrolling guard would take up their services as well, normally little more than scrapes and light wounds from a wild animal. Virin himself never seemed to have quite the magical or natural aptitude to pick up the same skill set, though he had very little desire for it. To him, it was simpler and easier to keep to his mundane work.
This changed as Virin became older, although far from the ways that he or anyone in his home would have expected. In the dead of the night, there was only the scent of smoke, the crackling of flames, and the shrill screams of the other village folk to rouse Virin from his sleep. There was always the looming fear of the small scale war with the turbulent relations between states, that one day they would grow complacent and finally strike - but that was hardly the case. One by one, the homes went up in a massive conflagration, the villagers running for their own lives as the flames spread, almost as if chasing the people themselves. In his own home, the walls were already burning, debris and smoke blocking his exit as the sounds of his parents in the adjoining room etched themselves into his mind.
Virin's attempts to escape were ultimately fruitless, as the burning heaps of wood and stone surrounded him, smoke searing his lungs and eyes as he could do little more than sit and wait for the inevitable, his parents cries dying away into the crackling flames. It was in those flames, in the searing agony, that he saw it. A wolf that seemed to breath smoke and had eyes like flickering embers. In that same moment, Virin awoke, rising from a pile of ashes that he could only assume were those of the burnt remains of his life.
And so the rain came down to extinguish the flame, though Virin walked free, growing into a raging conflagration that would find what sparked it to life, or burn anything it touched that dared to stand too close.
Since the events of his patronage, Virin has stumbled through life, a mixture of grief at what he can recall and puzzlement at what gaps there are within his mind. His patron, a shadowy wolf-like creature, stalks his every moment, driving him to newfound levels of paranoia and concern. At the same time, this has taught him a valuable lesson in feigned confidence and composure, as his attempts at revealing the strange creature have left others thinking him mad and unhinged - though neither are necessarily false at times. And so he keeps a rather stern, calculated look about him when eyes happen his direction. Far more likely are people willing to help when you look to be at least somewhat more refined and put together, rather than cracked and scattered.
Virin does not recall the exact terms and cost of his pact with the Ashen Wolf - more than anything he wonders if it was a matter of genuine acceptance or forced compliance. Regardless, after years of this "agreement", he has come to terms with the loss of portions of his memory. In most ways, it does not impact his life meaningfully; snippets of his memory blend and blur like a burnt up camera reel. He cannot recall the exact location of his home, nor does he know the names of his parents or those he spent much of his childhood with. When he casts his spells though, the flames produced and the smoke wafting from the primordial runes emblazoned into his skin show glimpses of his memories. Rarely are they coherent enough to understand the exact context, but nonetheless do they grant a small glimpse into his life.
While Virin enacts the will of his Patron, an insatiable hunger for destruction and rage, he has found himself likewise in the service of another - the deity Levendis. At first, it was something of an adversarial relationship - some of Levendis' own had fallen victim to Virin's activities, and a deity of Vengeance sought just that. After some time of cat and mouse, Levendis saw value and use in Virin's resilience and rage. As ill-restrained as he was, Virin's power and abilities were well suited for enacting the will of the deity - not to discount his natural charm along side this. For Virin, he happily accepted - for it meant that he had some manner of sanction to carry out his patron's will, while also having the resources to satiate his own lust for excess.