Chuta the Fist of Darkness, Opportunistic Deserter of the Spire

Role

Chapter 4

His progress in the guild was swift as well as his establishment in Thera. He had
not only begun to master his craft as if it was a form of worship, but he had his
place granted in the Blood Tribunal by none other than the Provost and Mummy Lord
himself, Aztezul von Strigein. The mummy himself was an eerie sort of inspiration
for Chuta, he stood tall as a pillar of order and as an indication of the powers
that Magic held for those who strived and mastered the craft. Chuta respects the
Provost and believes that they both play a big role in bringing the world back to
the creation his Lord Twist intended it to be.

His progress was not without difficulties however. He was slain by one foolish
giant who held close to the ideals that Chuta's parents did. The Light. But Chuta
was not about to let his defeat at the hands of Tauzak slow him down, to him it
would be as if his parents betrayal was justified. He made a pledge after his own
defeat that death would not be his weakness, nor would he be contained to by the
power of the souls captured in his weapons. If he was to die, so be it, he would
be restored and strengthened with unholy might and would only stop when his last
breath had left his body.

Allies came also, not just enemies seeking retribution for his deeds. Villagers,
Lightwalkers, they all had their place. But even his allies he was not sure whom
he could trust, his Lord Twist was paramount about honesty amongst his creation
and his allies seemed fickle at best. Styxis proved helpful, but like all those
who sought to prove themselves in the guild of shapeshifting, it was hard to see
them as permanent allies until they had reached the pinnacle and accepted their
own forms as part of them, otherwise they may simply vanish in the wind. Ginni
however was another matter, they thought themselves superior for joining the same
studies of Necromancy that the Provost had so successfully applied. It gave them
a sense of superiority and a false belief they could order anyone to do their
bidding. Perhaps if they proved themselves to Chuta he would see them as someone
worthy to share his Lord's gift of Magic, until then he would keep his distance.

But the years will pass swiftly and he must remember his ambitions. To become the
Vindicator of the Blood Tribunal and of course, to find himself worthy of the God
of Magic, his Lord Twist.

Role

Chapter 3

He picked up his holy symbols from the floor and walked back to the fallen Monk
whose corpse blocked the hallway of the Grynmear. Ruthlessly he grabbed at his
feet and dragged the lifeless thing into his chambers. With a knife he had taken
from the kitchen, he cut back his plain garb and exposed the fatal wound as it
still oozed fresh blood upon the floor. It was symbolic. This ritual. It was the
rebirth he needed to break the chains of his old life and embrace his new path.

Dipping the symbols into the open wound, he bathed them in the blood of the faith
that was now dead to him. The wooden symbol swelled up as it quenched its thirst
without regret. Carefully he unstrung the leather cord and inverted the symbol in
his hands before refastening it around his neck. It was time to make his own path
in this world. Stepping from the Temple under the cloak of night he set forth to
find himself in the world known as Thera. His intentions had never been clearer:

1) Find and dedicate himself to the Lord Twist under the Sphere of Magic. Magic
had given him the power to embrace himself and discard the crutch of faith. He
would be his own man as he sought retribution against the lawless and dishonest
who had abandoned him from his birth.

2) He will hunt the lawless and chaotic with a vengeance. He will hunt those of
the Light with no remorse. He will hunt the Villagers without mercy. Enemies of
Order beware of his bloodthirst. He will join the Blood Tribunal to fortify the
pillar of civilisation and seek to become a Vindicator to deliver retribution to
the enemies of the land.

3) He will continue to train as an Anti-Paladin and hopes to establish them as a
true school of Magic in which he will become the first Lord Adept of the Infernal
to show the strength and heights man can achieve alone and hopes to become a true
champion of man.

Role

Chapter 2

It was a lonely childhood. He was raised with the bare essentials and the distant
promise of a family. His parent left him another gift however. The gift of Magic.
They themselves were both masters of the elements and mana was part of his blood.
In his dark isolation he practiced invoking lightning, fire, ice, hoping to find
the approval of his parents upon their return. But as time passed by, the hope of
his parents returned diminished and his mind fell prey to the demonic forces that
lay dormant beneath the Temple of Grynmear. Vision plagued his mind of the unholy
union of the elements with the power promised by the dark altar in the catacombs
that festered in the darkness.

So between his chores he searched the Temple grounds, for a hint of the darkness
that was promised in the whispers of his mind. He found it. Wrapped in blankets
and stowed in a wardrobe, an invitation to claim the power he was promised. Black
and ancient, the tome was fading as it proclaimed the power of Zurcon. But wasn't
the idea of the Demon God that caught his attention, it was the Death Knights
that intrigued him most. Tucking the book in his pack, he retreated from the dorm
and into his quarters where he spent his time browsing the pages that promised a
self empowerment.

As the imprisonment of his years dragged on, his demeanour became dark while his
soul relished the anguish. He no longer desired his parents return. In fact, his
transformation had been so profound that he wanted them dead. He despised those
like his parents, those of the Light. Those who broke laws for their own gain to
leave turmoil in their wake. He despised the faith. Years of the Monks whispering
words of solace into his ears, promising the return of his parents, promising a
a life of love. Promises, promises... Promises. No more! He reached for the holy
symbols binding his neck and with a clenched fist he tore them free and left them
scattered upon the floor. He rose with determination in his eyes.

And bloodshed in his heart.

Role

Chapter 1

Loch Grynmear was home to a Temple that lay perched upon a cliff, inhabited by a
host of demonic forces that spawned in the dark catacombs beneath. But despite of
their own unique challenges, the Monks that dwelled there were welcoming to all
outsiders and empathetic especially towards those who championed the Light. Their
unconditional acceptance lead them to shelter two vigilantes who were on the run
from the retribution of the Blood Tribunal.

A human husband and his heavily pregnant wife. They were both blessed with a gift
for Magic, using this blessing to fight for the Fortress, they had fallen in love
upon a crusade against the darkness. However the Fortress had stumbled upon dark
times, the Orb tainted and the members forced to take shelter through the realms.
For a few weeks they resided here, under the care of the Order until the birth of
their child. With tear-stained eyes, they passed their firstborn into the care of
the Order and prepared themselves for the road beyond.

The child was raised amongst the Monks, the Monks who believed in the virtues of
man. They were kind and honest. When he became of age he was told the truth of
how he became to dwell amongst them. His parent were great Magi, followers of the
Light and outcasts of the Law. He was surrendered to the Monks with the promise
that one day they would return to find him. But the days grew long as they slowly
turned into months. Months into years. Years into sorrow. As the child was left
with his own flourishing doubts he knew one thing. He despised his birthright.

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