Role

Chapter 17

Deep beneath twisted vines and long aged branches, Ssorc found himself
afraid for the first time in ages and ages. He had been wandering those
dark twisted trails for months. Giving life and precious precious time
in search of ancient secrets and wicked magic.

The fear was not for darkened trees and trecherous terrain. No, Ssorc
had known more than her fair share of haunted woods and unholy ground.
And, in truth, he *prefers* unholy and untamed wilderness.

The fear came when Ssorc finally found what she was looking for. It all
happened so fast..

Ssorc was.. walking. And then..

And then he awakened. The difference was immediate, but not unfamiliar.
Like a dream but somehow combined with a memory. A place, and power
that Ssorc had forgotten, but never really left.

Before Ssorc could focus on the memory/dream, it's mind was filled with
a new sensation. Cold. Or rather, a lack of heat or warmth. It was..
Refreshing!

And suddenly the cold wasn't a problem or thought. It was soothing. Like
a blanket for its mind. I use 'it' now to refer to Ssorc, for it is no
longer a Drow. Or Male or Female. It is something else.

Ssorc has transformed, and with that transformation came a hunger and
savegry that Ssorc has thus far found exciting! Its senses are heightened.
Its fangs are sharp and claws, perhaps, even more-so. Ssorc, now a Wight,
was able to salvage far more than most who become a Wight. Its innate
Pride that was reborn long ago into the Drow Ssorc, combined with a
Powerful will that was molded over centuries of study and magical
mastery has allowed Ssorc to stave off the madness or crazed-hunger that
consumes most Wight. Compared to others of the breed, Ssorc is rather
composed. But this is Ssorc's power and skill. To master the beast within
to be unleashed ten-fold, or more, when the time is right.