Kruizinel the Affirmation of Life, Bloodoathed of the Empire

Role

Chapter 3

The High Priest of Empire sits in meditation before the altar of the dark
gods, the voices of his sect raised in prayer to the dark lords.

In his heart he feels the desire, the hunger for ever greater power that
all servants of the Empire are gifted with.

In his mind burns the flames of conflict and war, urging him to conquer
all in his path, and strive eternally in the heat of battle.

And in his soul lies the frozen essence of unquenchable darkness,
majestic, yet sorrowful, orderly, yet defiant.

As all servants are made of three parts, so does he serve as such. Lord
Enlilth's glorious Empire is served with his body and actions, defeating
all who oppose darkness and order. Lady Iunna is served in his mind,
inspiring his allies and enemies with his presence and word, driving him
ever onward in conflict and war. And His Infernal Majesty is served in
spirit, as the essence of pure evil, for it is a darkness that seeks evil
only for the sake of evil.

Role

Chapter 2

Eventually he began to speak to soldiers he saw often in an effort to
understand what exactly they idolized about the healers that kept putting
them back on the battlefield, that he may emulate those characteristics
and not have to bother with anything else.

What he learned was something of a shock for one ignorant of actual
battle, having only walked among the dead after the fact. He learned
that while the healers that attended to the injured after a battle were
respected, it was those healers that burned closed their wounds mid
combat that truly garnered the adoration of the soldiers.

After hearing these stories, he finally decided he would witness an
actual battle, rather than just the aftermath within the tents. It was
there that he found exaltation.

It was an emotional experience from the very beginning, the moment he
laid eyes on the ranks of soldiers marching to meet eachother. He
watched the battle unfold into what to other untrained eyes would be as
chaos, but seemed to him as a symphony of sounds. Crashing blades and
armor, the shouts of officers, all coming together in a magnificent
euphony of music.

As he sank to his knees while watching from afar, he noticed that which
was described by the soldiers he had spoken to: the war priests of the
Empire, standing, eyes closed, amidst the battle, surrounded by their
allies, loudly chanting their prayers as harsh red light raced away from
them into their ally's wounds.

He turned away from this sight, his desire too strong to remain standing,
and he left to seek his place within the ranks.

His road would be long, but he desired to learn all he could of the
nature of war, that he might lead his own army. That he might forever
hear the symphony of war.

Skill List

Role

Chapter 1

Military brat and camp follower sum up his early life. His earliest
memories are of being carried by his mother over the corpses of the army,
seeking what remained of the spoils of war after their Imperial army took
their share. He learned later how fortunate he was that despite being a
whore, his mother still had her pride, taking only other dark elves to
her bed, lest he be burdened with the blood of some lesser race flowing
through him.

When he was slightly more mature, and old enough to be sick of being left
in the tent while his mother was "working," he joined the boys who walked
over the battlefield seeking those who still clung feebly to life,
finding exaltation in vanquishing the enemy, acting then as if they were
the heroes. It was a game to them, to see who could slay the most
"villains." A game he took to, as all drow children, with gusto, and
without mercy. Many deaths occurred in the struggles to have the
finishing blow on a dying soldier.

But such things only held his attention for so long, being of higher
intellect than his peers which came from each of the races. He found
something that truly interested him, the healer's tents.

He became something of a fixture in the tents. Staying out of the way,
and simply observing the effect that the presence of death had on the
soldiers. Those he had observed during his "games" were far less
interesting, as they were too far gone, and without hope.

The effect that healing had on the soldiers was nothing short of
astounding. No sooner than their wounds were closed that they knelt in
praise and thanks to the healer, a certain fire burning in their eyes.
Inspiration...a feeling of invincibility that comes from faith in their
healers to pry them from death's cold hand. Many a soldier he saw more
than once. It was those soldiers who did not weep for their fate, but
stoically suffered their pain, knowing they would be back on the field
soon. Their eyes showed no fear, only faith.

It was in their eyes that he saw what truly brought courage. Not hope,
not belief in oneself, nor the fear of the gods. It was the faith in the
abilities of their healers that raised their spirits.

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