And so our tale begins...
Once, when Narg was walking along an old road, he came to a crossroads. Not of Twilight. No, this crossroads was not of anything, but the sign said a town was to the west, so Narg went that way for he was very, very hungry. Luckily, Narg had learned to read as a young Trolloc lad (but that is also another story).
As Narg came to the outskirts of the town, some farmers spotted him immediately and started yelling at the top of their lungs, waving their pitchforks in the air. Naturally, Narg was exceedingly offended at this undeserved hostility but, being used to that kind of treatment, he didn't let it stop him from getting his supper that day. For you see, Narg was a very clever Trolloc.
Narg ran as fast as his powerful legs could carry him, and quickly got away from his persecutors. Then he sat down and thought and thought. And so it was that Narg came up with a clever scheme. Disguising his handsome Trolloc features under a large hat and veil and other clothes he found inside an unoccupied farmhouse nearby, Narg confidently returned to the town. He got a few suspicious stares as he passed by the men who chased him earlier, but they quickly dismissed him as a foreign traveller.
His plan proceeding very nicely, Narg turned into the first tavern he came to, and sat down at a table. Narg surveyed the nearly empty common room, getting sullen stares from each of the three men sitting at a nearby table. Now, it just happened that Narg had come across a small fortune in coins from a good acquaintance of his who tragically tripped and fell into his cooking pot not long ago. Thinking on his friend and the great times they had together, Narg sadly handed a few coins to the serving girl, buying strong drinks for the three men. The girl's eyes goggled at Narg's hairy paw and guttural voice, but took the coins and scurried away.
The men accepted the drinks warily, but with good grace, thinking the fool had recently come into wealth and was feeling generous. Over the next few hours, Narg continued his generosity, and at length the men were all drunk and reeling toward the door, slapping Narg on the back as they passed him. Standing, Narg followed them outside into the night.
The men headed for the stableyard, and Narg followed them stealthily, moving from shadow to shadow, not as skillfully as a Fade but good enough. Narg was exceedingly hungry by this time and his disguise was growing uncomfortable, so he disposed of it on the way.
As the men came to the yard, a cloaked man with glowing holes where his eyes should be stepped out of the shadows. Faintly Narg heard him ask, "Is he dead?" One man slurred, "Didn't show up." The cloaked man then noticed their drunkeness and flew into a horrible rage. Suddenly the men were enveloped in flame and quickly Narg's dinner turned to ash, the man disappearing as quickly as he appeared.
Cursing his luck, the famished Narg stared at all of this with tremendous disappointment. All his work gone to waste. And stablehands were his favorite, but Darkfriends always had a certain aftertaste that Narg found unappetizing. Heading back the way he came, Narg settled for a simple meal of sheepherder, however that offended his refined palate.
[I tried to make this funnier, but it sort of turned into an elaborate fan-fiction. To me, the whole Narg backstory is so full of possibilities
Maybe there should be a "Narg" category for posts 
But, I promise, this will be the last one, from me anyway.]