Role

Chapter 1

A new day begins, same as always, as the evil brotherhood of the abyssal
catacombs gather together amongst themselves for teachings, and the uses of
elemental manipulation through living practice. Practice among the living
that is, among enlsaved wanderers, wanderers such as Zavin.

You see, times long past, when Zavin was a simple avian citizen of Hamsah
Mu'Tazz, he was of good folk, with a modern education where he was prided for
his ingenius.

On a cold winters eve, he was a young child, and on his first hunt with his
family. Searching for beasts, for meat and hides, he came to see he had lost
his track and was seperated from the group...

*** A thunder clap englufs the skies, as lightning ***
*** bolts in every direction blind you. ***

You come to very dreary and weak. Very dark, and you notice you are sitting
up, on cold stone. Iron shackles with magical auras commanding your will to
die, binding your claws and talons, with coarse, twined ropes prisoning your
wings. You can't cry out, you sit there, in silence.

Zavin had become a captive, of an evil brotherhood of monks whom bored an
elemental temple, in the catacombs of the Arails sands. Surfacing to the
deserts for hunt, and lost wanderers to partake in their spell training.

For years, Zavin was enslaved to the evil of the magi monks, a tortured
guinea pig, for the researching of the elements in their violent use against
the light.

Withered away through pain, suffering, total silence and darkness, Zavins
soul began to taint. As every waking day that passed, again and again he was
brutally subjected to the brunt of the magi's spells and powers.

On a nameless night, within the catacombs of the temple, Zavin was dragged to
his holding cell, nearly comatose from the horrid enchantments forced on him.
In his total despair, and loss of hope, something exploded from him. His
avian eyes clouding viscidly, he let forth a sudden rage of evil he had never
before fathomed. Losing all self preservation he broke through his roped
wings and flared them out violently, windsweeping back his captors, with a
murderous glisten in his eyes. He glared in their direction, then magically
charging from his wing tips a violent fork of lightning, that charred the
monks to ashes in a blink of an eye.

All these years of torture, all these years of pain, evil had come to
overtake Zavin. He knew well the ways of the average sorcerer through his
childhood being educated in a large city. However the magic was never
revealed from within him before. Through years of being subjected to
mysterious elemental power, he has spawned inside of himself the very magic
that had been used against him for so long. Charging his body, giving him
power.

His last night in the elemental temple, was spent in a raging fury of evil,
and racing thoughts. In his transformated rage he spent several hours, razing
every space he found within the temple, slaughtering with his newfound
powers. Feeding off of the rush as his evil embodiment took him over.

As he watched from the sands off in the horizon, the flaming debris is all
that stood left of the temple. He had burned everyone and everything inside
of it to the ground. With his hell destroyed, he began to feel a hunger
inside of him. A thirst to become strong