Many years before Gangrel's days as king, back when he was 15 years old.
Gangrel wandered the open streets of Plegia. On a hot, sunny day like this people usually stayed inside, but Gangrel didn't care what the weather was like. He walked up to the town well and looked down. It was dried up. Plegia was going through a harsh drought. No rain had come for months. Having nothing better to do, Gangrel reclined on the well and stood there for thirty minutes. When he was done he got up and left town.
Gangrel was a handsome young man, with his dark red hair slicked back with grease. He was slim and tall. Since he was in poverty he wore a ripped cloak most of the time, but on the really hot days of Plegia he wore a torn shirt with the sleeves ripped off and tattered shorts.
He soon reached the slums of Plegia. The place was run-down and old. Gangrel walked to the far end of the slums where he lived. His home was a ramshackle, half-collapsed house that was farthest from the other houses in the slums. He had found it to be the ideal place of a loner like him. Walking through the doorway, he went over to a wooden bench and sat down.
"Well, today was boring," he said to himself, "but then again so was any other day during this wretched drought. No rain, and I have barely enough to live by to begin with" He grabbed a small box from a shelf and opened it. In it were three moldy bread crusts. Gangrel sighed. "Well, one for breakfast, one for lunch, and one for dinner. Then I will eventually starve to death." He shut the box and put it back on the shelf.
He got up and went to another part of the house. This was his bedroom. Torn blankets and the wooden floor served as his bed. A wooden plank with a cloth wrapped around was his pillow. The room had ripped curtains draped over the windows to keep the room dark, and Gangrel fixed the door so it would stay shut when he wanted it shut. He crawled under his blankets and put his head on his makeshift pillow. He thought about running away from his country and to one of the neighboring countries. He then had trouble thinking of a country that would actually accept him as a new citizen.
"Nah, not Ylisse. Their exalt has something against Plegians. And Ferox is too cold. Maybe I'll sail to Valm and find work there. But to do that I would need a boat. Oh well. I'll think more about it tomorrow." He turned over and went to sleep.
The next day Gangrel decided to find work somewhere. When he walked outside he noticed that it was cooler than yesterday. He changed into a torn shirt and ragged pants, and then walked to the main town of Plegia. He wandered around town and looked for somewhere he might work, but there was no place that needed more employees. Slightly disappointed, he decided to go into the Plegian Tavern. He had been in there many times. He smelled a strong scent of liquor in the air whenever he went there. Having nothing else to do, he decided to gamble with some of the other Plegians. He pulled out five gold coins from his cloak, and placed them on the table. The Plegians gambling laughed. One of them went up to Gangrel and asked him:
"Hey kid. You really want to gamble with the big boys?"
Gangrel nodded and smirked. "Yes. Since I have so little to begin with, I figured it would be best if I took my chances in gambling."
"Whatever you say," the Plegian said. The other gamblers were snickering as they placed their bets on the tables. There was approximately 5,000 in gold on the table. The way Plegians gamble is that each man rolls three dice when it's their turn. Then one with the largest number won the game. Each man rolled the dice. Then it was Gangrel's turn. He let the dice roll on the table and could not believe his eyes. He had rolled a larger number than all of the other Plegians. They had saw this too, and were astonished.
Gangrel took all of the money and put it into his cloak pockets. The other Plegians congratulated him on his win and told him he was always welcome to play again. Gangrel thanked them for their kind words and left to buy food for him. He had bought himself a couple of loaves of bread along with a bottle of water. Since Plegia had no water at the moment, the Plegians had to trade with Regna Ferox, which had an abundant supply of water. After he finished shopping, he walked back home. Since he didn't want his food to go bad fast, he moved a rug on the floor, which uncovered a hidden cellar door. His cellar was possibly the coldest place in all of Plegia. Climbing down a ladder, he went up to a chest and opened it. Putting his food in there, he shut the chest and put a lock on it. He didn't have the key that went to it, but he was an expert on opening locks without keys. Heading back up to the main floor, he covered the cellar door and went outside. The sun was setting a little earlier than usual.
"Ah, what a day. Let's call it a day and see what tomorrow has in store." He went inside his house and into his bedroom. Covering himself with his blankets, he said to himself, "You know, the only thing that would've made this day even better is if I had a friend to hang out with. But who am I kidding? No one wants to hang around with me." Gangrel turned over and closed his eyes. "Ah well. I've always lived by myself. And I sure can live like that forever"
The next few days were pretty great for Gangrel. Gambling with the other Plegians at the tavern, he had amassed over 20,000 in gold. He then bought enough provisions to last him a month, and still had a lot of gold left. After he had stored his wealth and food in the cellar, he wondered how the days could get any better.
His answer came when one day, after months of drought, a thunderstorm appeared. Rain was pouring on the usually dry Plegia. Gangrel was so joyful he ran outside in the rain for hours wearing his ripped shirt and shorts. He was still running around in the rain when he heard something. He stopped and listened. Besides the pouring rain he could hear what sounded like someone trudging through the rain. He walked towards the sound, thinking it was another Plegian that was lost in the rain. He instead found something different.
A young girl around his age wearing fancy garments was wandering through the rain. He walked up to her to ask why someone like her was wandering around like this. When she saw him she backed away in fear, but as he slowly approached her she started to trust him. She rushed to him, shivering from the cold. Gangrel, seeing she was cold, guided her to his home.
Bringing her inside, he took his cloak from where it was hanging and wrapped her with it. He uncovered the entrance to the cellar, and motioned to her to follow him. Still shivering, the girl got up and climbed down the ladder slowly. Gangrel shut the cellar door, went to one of his chests, and pulled out some torches and torch holders. Taking the two driest sticks, he rubbed them together until he lit them with a spark. He then lit the other ones and put them on the cellar walls with the torch holders. After a few minutes the cellar started to warm up.
Gangrel looked at the shivering girl. Finding a spare change of clothes in a chest, he gave them to her and kept himself busy in another chest until she had finished changing. Looking up from his chest, he saw that she had stopped shivering, and she was now examining his cellar with a look of curiosity.
"There's not much to look at, but this is where I keep most of my stuff."
The girl turned to look at him. She gave him a weak but friendly smile. Gangrel couldn't help but smile back. She then came closer to him. Gangrel stood there and let her approach him. The girl then wrapped her arms around Gangrel and buried her face into his chest, sobbing.
"T-Thank you for rescuing me, s-sir," she said to him in a quiet voice.
Not knowing what to do, Gangrel stroked her long, blonde hair and held her with his open arm. This seemed to comfort her, and she eventually stopped crying and looked up into Gangrel's eyes.
"What's your name?"
"Huh? Oh, it's just Gangrel." Gangrel answered.
The girl smiled. "What a nice name. I'm Emmeryn."
"I have to ask, what are you doing in these parts of Plegia?" Gangrel had been waiting to ask this question for a long time. Few ever visited the slums, visitor and Plegian alike.
"Oh. I was chased out of my country by some bandits. When I first saw you I thought you were a bandit, but as you got closer I saw that you weren't."
Gangrel had another question. "Do you always tend to cling on to everyone you see?"
Emmeryn started to blush. "Um, no I don't," she said, letting go of Gangrel. "I'm sorry."
"Oh, it's nothing," Gangrel replied, "Just wondering, that's all. Found it a little weird for someone to cling so tightly to someone they just met."
Gangrel sat down on a chest. "I don't know how long the rain will last, so we might be stuck down here for a long time."
Emmeryn smiled, not feeling down about the thought of being stuck in the cellar for some time. "That's alright. I feel safe knowing you're hear, Gangrel."
Gangrel couldn't hold back a smile. "Yeah, well I'm not going anywhere now, am I?" So the two of them stayed in the cellar for a couple days. Gangrel didn't know when the rain would stop, but when it did he was going to have another problem: getting Emmeryn back to her country and home.
Gangrel lifted the cellar door. Not hearing the rain pour onto the ground, he assumed that the storm was over. He climbed out of the cellar and went outside. It was hot, but not as hot as it was during the drought. Looking to an old sundial he found in the Plegia dump, he saw that it was early morning. He went back inside to get Emmeryn.
"Hey Emmeryn, the rain has stopped and the sun is out. You can come up now."
Emmeryn climbed up the ladder out of the cellar. Remembering something, Gangrel jumped down into the cellar. He blew out the torches, grabbed Emmeryn's still soaked garments, and climbed back up. Shutting the cellar door and covering it back up, he went outside.
"Reckon I'll have to find a place to hang these up and let them dry." He said to himself. Emmeryn came outside to see what he was doing.
"Oh. You don't have to dry those for me. You've already done enough for me. You don't need to trouble yourself with my welfare," she said to him.
Gangrel, ignoring her, merely grabbed a wooden beam that was slightly jutting out of the side of the house and pulled it out more. He set the garments on the beam to hang in the morning sun. Gangrel then turned and walked toward Emmeryn.
"Give it ten minutes or so," he said, "You won't have to wear my old, ragged clothes when they're done drying."
Emmeryn smiled shyly. "Thanks Gangrel, but I'm not bothered by wearing any of your spare clothes. You don't have to tire yourself trying to help me, if you don't want to."
Gangrel shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. I'm usually bored everyday, so this gives me something to do." Scratching the back of his head, he added "Well, what do you wanna do now?"
Emmeryn seemed to be deep in thought. Gangrel reclined on his house and waited for a reply. After some time she looked at Gangrel and then brightened. "Oh yeah! I was going to ask you something." Gangrel stood up and stretched. "Yeah sure, ask away."
"Will you show me around Plegia? I want to see everything with my own eyes."
Gangrel gave her an incredulous look. "Are you sure? There's not much to look at here in Plegia. Just sand and sun."
Emmeryn nodded. "Yes. Well, if you want to."
Gangrel thought about it, and then considered it. "Yeah sure, I'll show you around Plegia. Just stick by me so you don't get lost."
Emmeryn smiled cheerfully. "Oh, thank you! You are such a gentleman Gangrel." Gangrel felt warm and fuzzy, and it wasn't from the hot sun. Scratching his head, he said "Well what're we waiting for? Let's go."
So Gangrel and Emmeryn left for the capital of Plegia, which was the largest city in all of Plegia. Gangrel thought to himself as they walked.
"This is a little hard to take in. A foreigner, wanting a tour of possibly the worst country that ever existed. I think this Emmeryn girl knows more than she is letting on. Well the only way to find out is to play along, and play along I shall."