Xalintil Kitrye Kyuvr the Sadistic Rhapsodist of the Night

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Chapter 1

The drive and desires of Gods and men seem to differ little from eachother as
the enchantress has shown me, though the comparison can be fickle at best
there are destinct similarities. My most recent experiences are a scramble of
activity. My strength grows with my age and my voice, although I still care
little for my own power, these new vibrantly evil songs of seduction greatly
add to my ability to completely erase the joy of others. I am almost tempted
to search out more power for myself to further my intents of ripping
happyness from the world, none deserve it, but with power comes corruption
and my intents may be seduced away from what needs to be. I have not so much
studied and learned in the traditional sense about the scions of the chasm,
whom I am now apart of, and the varied Ccul'gra as much so as I have felt and
stumbled through the process. Acting on instinct alone with the shadowed
creature sifting through the darkness as a fish swims through water. I came
upon an elf, a priest by trade, whose gods and prayers would not save him
from the strength of my voice. I let the songs that make so many weep drift
upon this elf from all sides, and he began to grow uncomfortable, fearful,
lost and confused, finally he nearly gave up hope of life as his nightmares
came to life. So caught up was I in the revelry of bringing mental anguish to
this one that I scarcely noticed my 'companion' and its utter delight towards
my abilities. Only now as I sit and let my thoughts wander in random
contemplation am I positive of the darkness' total satisfaction in the elfs
fear and sorrow, the satisfaction mirroring perhaps an obese sultan's delight
in his food and drink, or his women. They have also reacted towards some of
the simplest of my sound manipulations, on occasion I let anger show, for it
must find a crack to vent at times, and rarely when I vent I almost whistle
sharply into the air, I have done this since I was a child and learned that
if this pitch was held long and loud enough glass could be broken through
mere sound. Mere sound I say, but I have proven that sound can be as strong
as any blade, stronger than most. The creature of night shifted suddenly
closer to me, I could feel something unseen prying at my self loathing and
expressed emotions of anger and when I turned this nightwalker as the masses
refer to it was slight inches infront of my face, seeming to be concentrated
on my mouth and mind in turn. I am confused and warry of this, and have
experimented very little with it since, though eventually the answers will be
uncovered through deliberance and fate driven instinct I have no doubt.

Role

Chapter 2

It is strange the things that make us endeavor to survive and flourish. In my
emptyness I have attempted to stem the slow trickle of life that is pouring
from my soul with a multitude of ideals and exercises that only lead to
ultimate futility. Two things that I have found though that almost restrain
my incessant loathing for everything including myself, two things that
although they do not fix what is broken within my mind and soul, they do
their part to cover them up. The first is so simple that I can see how many
stumble and fall into its depths, I even now merely spiral on the edge of
oblivion, and warmth of this mere liquid that man has made. I would have
fallen into such a stupor of drunken revelry that none have ever seen, had I
not stumbled across the later of my two saviors. Stumbling forth from the
darkness of one of my recessed reclusive self torments I came upon nothing
more than a small girl huddled over some limp form. As I watched and came to
relize the girl was crying so violently over a deceased pet, a mere puppy, a
small smile came from where I know not. The smile would not relent, would not
relinquish its hold upon my face, no matter the facts I presented myself with
in their horrid clarity, the facts of this poor childs torment and it only
worsened when she noticed I was smiling at her. She wept more, and my demons
laughed and were not quite as threatening and empty as they were a moment
before. All must weep, for only then will I be satisfied, yes.. yes yes, all
must weep.

Role

Chapter 3

My mother and father, so different from eachother in everything they were
including their heritage and yet if there could be any that would be
considered soulmates, if I believed in such romantic dribble that is. So
different, and yet so perfect together, they were also from the small
flitting insights of memory that come to me through my memories, the nearly
perfect parents. They had one flaw though, fatally it was proven to them,
they were frightened of confrontation to the point of resembling the hare in
its simple flight for life. Their flight kept them and I alive, long enough
that I could be taught about life, about all the things they expected and
wished, about right and wrong, good and evil, the birds and bees, and life
and death. The last lesson was brutal in its application, so very brutal the
memory of it has only just recently returned and I do not think I even
remember the complexity of what truly truly happened. All I know for fact is
that all of my creators careful avoidance led only to their eventual death.
I still do not know how I escaped, I only that my mother and fathers past
caught up to them and ended the beauty and fulfillment of my existance.

Role

Chapter 4

I have awoken to find myself.. in a temple of sorts. I am uncertain as to why
I arrived here or who I even am, I only know that I exist, that I still live,
and that most people would be thrilled to such extent for such that they may
weep in joy at the pains triumphed and the pains felt still. I only know
that, though I can remember nothing specific, nothing even as specific as my
identity, that I wish I was dead. There is nothing for me, and there has been
nothing for me for so long in my selfhating baleful existance that I should
be nothing more than a phantom of anger and rage. I also know that I am too
weak to end my own life, scared and weak, so I shall stand up and walk out of
this place I know not, I shall strive to who knows what end for no true
reason other than to strive, and continue to hate myself. Perhaps I shall
remember in time, what I am, and why it is that I wish I and all those that
are happy, all those with a smile and a laugh, all those that continue to be
joyful in life had that joy suddenly ripped from them.

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