Role

Chapter 1

In Darsylon's dark heart, Venorick was born. His elite upbringing fueled his
seething hatred for Magic. Once a wonder, it had turned into a vile tool
manipulated by the city's aristocracy. Venorick's fury intensified as he
watched palace guards wield their mystical powers effortlessly. Conjuring
shields of shimmering energy and wielding ghostly weapons, they reigned
supreme within the city walls. But beyond their prowess lay a sinister
truththey exploited their abilities for selfish gain, manipulating minds
and twisting loyalties. The dreadful truth unfurled during a devastating orc
raid. Darsylon, reliant on magic for defense, crumbled.

As magical resources dwindled, high elves fell in battle, defenseless against
the brutal assault, their dependence proving fatal. Venorick, witnessing the
brutal loss of his kin, understood the danger of relying solely on magic.
True strength lay not in magical prowess but in adaptability and diverse
skills. Driven by rage and a thirst for vengeance, Venorick embarked on a
quest for revenge. Venturing into the Blackwater Swamp, he scavenged for
natural ingredientsmushrooms, lilies, and other eerie flora. But his
thirst for retribution led him to pilfer magical elements from a mage's
house, enhancing his potion with stolen magic.

In a hidden swamp laboratory, Venorick meticulously blended these
ingredients. Using ancient alchemical knowledge, he refined the mixture into
a deadly potion. This lethal concoction, a fusion magic and natural elements,
mirrored natural diseases yet remained undetectablea subtle, deadly venom.
Testing the potion on unsuspecting creatures, Venorick watched with grim
fascination as the poison took effect. Satisfied with its deadly potential,
he concealed the vials, awaiting the moment to unleash his vengeance on the
high elf mages.

At a lavish feast, Venorick surreptitiously poisoned the mage's meal. Days
later, the mage succumbed, the sickness masking the poison's presence,
deflecting suspicion. Despite his quest for justice, his actions were seen as
"evil". Investigations followed, leading to Venorick's imprisonment and a
death sentence by Darsylon's authorities. Yet, in the dungeon's shadows, a
grumpy and seemingly drowsy cloaked figure appeared, mumbling, It'd be
swell if you got out, trained hard, and sought me out along with the
Battleragers. Seek the ruins and my temple. Venorick discovered his newfound
freedom as the figure vanished, leaving a lingering aura of vegetables and an
ocean breeze, mingled with the scent of an old man and blood. Curiously, the
old man's mumblings seemed to hold power, unlocking the cell door with a wave
of his staff.

Branded as "evil" by the world, Venorick embraced this label thrust upon him,
propelled by an unrelenting desire to eradicate all magic. His unwavering
hatred smoldering within, he slipped into the shadows, bound for Galadon, a
man determined to erase magic's hold on the world.