For decades, Borgal survived the wild, ruthless forest of Ashban through wile and cunning. His meager trading post was conveniently positioned at the junction of the Satyr River and the Long Road, tucked into the remnants of a giant, fallen tree. Abandoned at a young age, Borgal drifted between any tribe that would take him in, learning orcish, goblin, multiple human dialects, and even a bit of elfish. Despite knowing little of his heritage, he passed easily as an ugly human or possibly a small orc.
Building his little business on the edge of multiple societies, he slowly developed relationships with all manner of creatures and personalities. One such customer, a young woman name Hurvelda, visited periodically to trade in rare plants and spices. She often lingered to chat and grew found of young Borgal and his commercial acumen.
On the Second High Day of Cormuth, Borgal's life took an unexpected turn. Hurvelda rushed into his shop, looking fearful. "Borgal, come with me! They are after me!" she urged, as she reached out and grasped his forearm. The intricately detailed bracelet on her wrist glowed, the intensity of light quickly rising. "Yes, it's working. We'll be safe soon," she murmured. Borgal started to pull away, "wait, where are we going? I don't want to leave!". Ignoring him, Hurvelda focused on the bracelet. The light was changing, pulsing and oscillating color. "This isn't right...Oh no, it can't be," locking eyes with Borgal- "You should have told me."
"Told you what?!?", Borgal yelled as he struggled to break her magical grasp. "You're one of them", she hissed. His arm felt as if on fire, shortly before the rest of his body followed suit. He screamed as their grip broke and Hurvelda vanished, her face frozen with shock and contempt.
Borgal pulled himself off the floor and instantly noticed his hands, or at least the lack thereof. In their place were hooves! He rushed to the back of the store and fumbled for the old looking glass he struggled to sell. Once he managed to get his new digits around the item, he saw his new self for the first time. A unicorn! Or at least, kind of. A small horn now protruded from his forehead, but his face and body still held remnants of his former human features- as if the transformation was interrupted partway.
Borgal struggled to accept his new identity, but slowly discovered his new form came with magical abilities. Though, they were difficult to control or predict. He found he could teleport to other locations, including the fey world. Always searching for Hurvelda, unsure of whether to help her or confront her, he continually picked up interesting baubles and items for his now magical shop. Sometimes he wandered alone, other times, his shop moved with him. For travelers that were fortunate enough to stumble upon Borgal the Unicorn's Magical Emporium, the wares were every bit as interesting as the peddler.
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