Role

Chapter 3

The winters came and went as Herethon grew within the Fortress.He could
feel the strains of time and of the War weighing him down. He developed into
many wild creatures each with their own unique purpose.Whether it was the
sweet song of the nightingale or the baleful hiss of the vulture he came to
utilize each to battle the darkness.

As the vulture he learned to be opportunistic, soaring above the cities and
roads assailing any who he could find. With each killing strike he felt the
crimson splash upon his feathers seeping into his skin, even when he
transformed the blood was still stained on his human flesh. In his dreams
and huddled in the darkness he could feel demons claws grasping at his
taloned feet, scratching at his feathering and gnashing their teeth as he
sunk into the depths.

He grew embittered, it wasnt that he sought the blood of the Nexans, those
neutral in life, or even those that hunted the Conjurers and Paladins in the
Fortress, but he sought their removal. They hampered the war with the
constant battles that held no allegiances, they were a stain, not yet a
blight, but nothing of the highest pedigree. Yet, he continued his flight
diving towards the darkness wherever it reared its misshapen and grotesque
head, even if he was distracted.