Nari's Vision

Written in languages thought lost, these are the scrawlings Nari made in a fugue state while sick as a child.
Note from Mike: Anything written here is intentional even if it contradicts the current storyline. That is intended.

Adama

A prince, with his first name, was born to a king of power and honor. the boy, with his first name, was raised to be a mighty warrior, a fearless leader, and to be a king of honor. His father trained him to be fierce, to never let his guard down, and to never run from a fight. These principles were beaten into him until he grew into a young man. It was not until the day of the tournament in which he saw true warriors, both of marital skill and magic, fight that he knew he needed to master all to be a king of true power. But on this day fate had other plans. As the champion, a being of draconic thunder, assassinated his king his father, that true anger and rage built from. As is the way of his people this victor claimed the throne and the title of king as his own. Not wanting the same fate, then boy of the first name thought to run. But there before him he saw the blade of his father, crackling with the magic that killed his father and covered in his still warm blood, that he knew he could not run. Thus the boy of the first name stood defiant and left his first name behind as that was the name of a weak child, not the name of the king.
Blade to his side he challenged the spirit of the lightning dragon to a duel as a chorus of laugher rose from those who once praised him. The now lightning king flew down and stared into the eyes of a true warrior and accepted the challenge. Many cheered as the boy who had never acted out of aggression before in his life, was dominated by pain and elemental power as the lightning coursed through his body. As the power coursed through him, he kept his gaze on the opponent not seeing the gems along the blade of his father begin to charge and glow. Still wreathed in lightning his flesh marked by its strikes he jumped into the sky and the the empowered blade severed the head of the would-be king. Turning around to his subject, their laughter still echoing in the back of his mind, he called upon them to laugh once more striking down anyone who did. The new power that he wields infused in the blade. His reign was absolute and just. He would never stray from a fight.
Hearing of this victory and strength, a neighboring king sought the young king's council as strength should be respected. The young king agreed to meet the king of this undying land beneath a great tree of winter. The two kings met and while their power was evident, the king of the undying land with his army of ghouls and necromancers, demanded the servitude of the young king. The young king stared once again deep into the eyes of his challenger and continued to stare as with a single strike he drove the empowered blade from the bottom to the top through the now dead king of the undying. The young king, his blade still dripping with blood, rode to his new throne holding the head of the disgraced king high as he rode ahead of his new combined army. As the arrived in the throne room to fanfare he knew that he was no longer the young king but an emperor. Sitting on the throne of the kingdom he conquered with a single movement of his blade, he took the name of a conqueror - Adama, emperor eternal.

Hagren

Once a dreamer, always a dreamer. A boy who grew up on the streets of a land to the far east sought adventure and glory in a world stacked against him. Only knowing the example of his absentee drunkard of a father, he always used strength and intimidation to bully and get what he wanted. The call to adventure, or at least the call to not be dull, never faded from his mind or ambition - so he took any chance to escape the docks that was his world. He sought out other likeminded adventurers that felt the same escape, but only those with less than good intent remained on the streets. He was a quick study. From each he took joy, another door kicked down with flair, or another black eye given, learning each maneuver or flight of foot. But the good times ended upon a failed caper of the rich noble's house. Left and abandoned by his crew this street rat was now alone and behind bars. The sham of a trial had the dreamer found guilty with no consideration. To but a person of quality and skill to work he was sentenced as a deck hand on a conscription ship. The dreamer was on another adventure and another challenge that would not break him - but the sea is not so kind a mistress.
A strong willed captain sought to break this dreamer of their habits. As he saw the potential for good and leadership within. The dreamer came to the like a fish to water, seeing the possibility for adventures. Through the guidance of the captain a leader began to emerge from the adventurer as he became respected, but feared, by the crew for his strength and will. The sea, just like the adventurer, is anything but kind.
The wind and squalls blast against the hull batting the ship and crew in the torrent of the storm. Through the most torrential of rain and waves, the adventurer calls out commands. The crew responds, as they either feared or trusted his judgement more than the captain who remained silent and steered through the storm. So when one strong wave crashed against the bow the crew braced, but not all were able to secure a hold in time - including the captain. Between strong lightning strikes silhouettes, the captain clutching to the side of the ship, the adventurer standing over him, another flash, only the new captain stands on the deck.
The dream bent captain turned to the crew and threatened the same fate to anybody that would question his quest or dream. Thus the most dreadful pirate was born. Every ship he came across he crushed, showing no signs of weakness, mercy, or hesitation. He destroyed all who would stand against him and his dream. Local kingdoms got wise and sought to put an end to his violence but his legend grew and so did his followers. The captain led the armada of dream seekers, an unstoppable force similar to the storm on the night he realized his potential, and took the helm of his own life. It was on a similar day after taking a ship that the captain came across some information about some items that would allow him to command the seas forever - a dream that would never end. He knew his crew wasn't up for the task but he knew of a corrupt politician that might throw a little coin his way that he could double cross later. Thus the captain headed into shore, a new dream in mind as the Nightmare of the Fathoms, Hagren Captain of the Dreadful Sliver disembarked.

Myra

The princess of privilege was born to a family of the highest society and respect. She grew up wanting for nothing and was exposed to the very best of culture, education, and riches. Her family's place in the world was already very well established and respected and loved by many. But on the inside of the gilded walls, a hollow apple grew from the family tree. Between the lessons, the galas, and fundraisers there were times of true perceived joy of a family raising their only child. In all the time in between, the child was alone, no one to paly with, no one to guard her so she found a special place in the garden to play. The princess was an observant child, watching every step, every conversation, that seemed to be the game her parents played. Seeing the aptitude their daughter had for all types of learning, they decided to focus her efforts on social politics as that was the best way in their minds for her to succeed. As with all things she began to excel and her parents began to present her more to society. And society was thrilled. Their shining doe of a daughter displayed beauty, with a shy demeanor that made the wall flower shine bright, and with a rare appeal. It was not long before the first suitor was presented to her. And the pieces were placed onto the board.
While on paper the golden doe matched well with the heir of the dawn, the princess found this child to be a bore. He was much to brash and lacked any sort of ambition other than to show his wealth, and compromised his ability to play the game she had studied so hard to master. To clear her mind and plot her moves she found solace in the grove at the end of the family grounds, a special place of solace and power where she could be her true self. Between all the galas and fundraisers she had to endure, she studied her behavior, only to grow to further distance from him. The doe strained under the clash between her views and that of the heir of the dawn until it was announced by her family the two were to be married. The board tilted, the game askew. This would not stand in her plans, the game was the purpose. The game is what mattered, not the ambitions of other, she had her own plans and would not be everyone else's pawn. In the interim she focused her studies on her husband to be, watched his every move, learned all his likes, studied the business of his family. The wedding was a truly extravagant affair, the doe and the spoiled child of the dawn now wed. The heir of the dawn was in rare form, as this was his special day, all from him as he collected his trophy. But as the night went on it just so happened that his drinks hit him a little stronger than normal, his drunken celebration reaching its apex as he caused a scene in his drunken ignorance and wandered away from the party. Just into the very quiet grove as his bride planned he would. Queen takes king.
The news was, as she planned, in her favor. Now seen as a grieving widow of the two most influential, well positioned, and wealthy families she had only a few more obstacles that limited her moves going forward. Over a year later, on a boring evening with her parents while they vacationed outside the Carrefour, is when the raiders came and set fire to the villa they were staying at. While the fire was child's play the queen did take great care to use the proper blade to butcher the staff, her father, her mother, and her own arm. The momentum of this 'true' tragedy behind her, she realized how slow her current movements were. In rapid succession and with more direct methods: blackmail, sabotage, murder, and executions, she found herself thrust into the power and position that she had been so meticulously planned and sought after, studying all those years. The queen now found herself the victor of the game with a collection of pieces all her own. Pawns in the city council of local governments, bishops in the religious sector or clergy, and even a knight in the grizzled veteran drow bounty hunter. The board lays conquered, the winner never in question as the queen stands tall above all on the board she built - Queen Myra Dawnsaber-Stagwood, the radiant doe. Or, as those who fear her in her truest form, the Frigid Maleficent.

Raijun

A boy whose only memory was a single warm embrace of a woman before he was told to ascend the steps to the place he would call home. The half forgotten structure of the orphanage was no stranger to the shadows in which the boy found comfort. Constantly bullied and beaten, moving between the shadows became his domain. It was best, he knew, that only the silent survive. There he learned learned that to use them to save himself from the cruel punishments and the the wrath of the other children and those who are to be providing him love and care. But he was not the only one hiding, he found another child whose fear was greater than his. He found strength in providing for her and keeping her safe until he saw her as his sister. Together they survived and escaped at an early age and began their live anew on the streets of Varoth.
The clan of rogues, cutthroats, and ninja, that that through their bond with an abyssal chaos strike fear and death into the world around them. The boy and his sister, for the first time, began to shine bright and began to prove themselves. Finding others like them along the way. The training was nothing compared to the torture that was their childhood. Surpassing every mission and trial with extreme focus, accuracy, and dedication, they quickly made a name for themselves and rose through the ranks.
The boy had now found a purpose and claims the title of assassin. But their skill made other jealous and soon a plot was formed against them. On a mission high up in the mountians, their goal to acquire a holy relic from a rival clan of assassins. During the summer festival, the boy and his team made their way from alley to alley making easy work of all who stood in their way. Reaching the head of the clan's mansion they snuck their way in, almost too easily. As they arrived at the main chamber, they found the head of the opposing clan sitting there, waiting for them. The team entered and surrounded the target. The target looked up and smiled. Looking at the lead assassin he laughed as the assassin's team he had trained with turned on him. He only had only a second to observe the betrayal, before he felt the blade of the only person he loved plunge into his back. Rage, adrenaline and revenge built in the assassin and in that moment darkness took hold over his body and soul.
As he felt the life leave his body, darkness covered his vision plunging him deep into the abyss. He awoke there, his body changed and his mind wracked with the memory of his team's betrayal. Creatures began to surround him, clattering a trilling, the fallen searched for the blade but it did not journey with him, The doomed creatures overwhelmed him tearing into his flesh and mind. The pain and torture, a torrent of chaos and misery. He felt as abandoned and alone as the scared boy who clung to the shadows for safety and protection. As the image of the shadows entered his mind, he felt a power surge within him, eyes flashing open only displayed a void of black nothing. The shadows surrounded him and lashed out, impaling the creates on the hard light tendrils. The fallen raised into the sky, as if propelled by the absence of hope that now encased his form. The shadows danced along their chosen path, as the comfort the fallen took during his younger years allowed the shadows to find a host that was suitable for its needs, for a champion.
The vanquished foes now at his feet, he wrapped the shadows around him like a cape and moved forward through the layer of the abyss he was cast down upon. Between the prowess of his marital form and the shadows' will to protect the fallen, short work was made of any who stood to oppose them. As their conquest grew so did the power, the fallen claimed this layer as his own but soon that was not enough as the rage of betrayal still pained his heart. With his evolved form and power, the shadows gave him a door bac to the mountains, back to the clan that betrayed him. His return home forever altered the land which the clan called home, the sky bathes the mountains in constant shadows, scream are ever heard in the valleys and passes, and strange creatures now roam the once nature filled basins. Now sitting in a place of power and fear, he knew that it wouldn't be long before others him. Looking through ancient scripts and scrolls he found reference to magical items and artifacts that anchored the very magic his clan sought to command to this plane. He sent the creatures, commanded by the shadows, on a mission spilling more and more blood until the location of their items were revealed. He knew that to be hated was to be powerful, a true immortal - Raijun, the remaining.

Sarya

The little cub was always fierce, both in heart and in body. Growing up on one of the middle rings of an ancient great city certainly came with an innate sense of beauty and enchantment. It was by no means a hard life but it always felt strange. In the strange times the little cub had her older sister to guide her and lead the way as she seemed to have an easier time with all the people. In those times when the world of people did not make sense, the little cub found solace in the creatures in the surrounding wood where the world made sense. She spent a lot of time in the forest, not with the weak and meek creatures but with the predators and the hunters as she looked to mirror their strength. As she grew more attached to the wild, the further she drifted from the people in her life, all but her sister. The little cub became more of an oddity for the people that saw the little wild girl running with the pack in the woods. The life that her parents had planned out for her, while on track, was in jeopardy. The more time she spent in the wild and the society she was meant to join, began to scorn her. Her parents barred her from the forest, scolding her to be more like her sister. Her sister continued to thrive, which forced the cub to recoil more and more, away from the society trying to welcome her with open arms. The cub could not take the attention, the pressure to conform at once. Forcing her, one fateful night, to escape back into the woods.
In the night of a most ancient forest full of terrors, the cub let out a sigh of relief. With each step her form began to shift from the weak and uncomfortable form of the little elvish girl to that of a true predator. Eyes of pearly green, claws that cut through the oldest of trees, and teeth that give the last moment of all who find themselves in them a sweet release. Running through the woods, the cub embraced the smell of the sweet forest air running along her fur as she bounds from tree to tree in her panther form. The creature of the night watched this free beast as it was not the only newcomer to wander in the woods.
As the cub made her way deeper into the woods she heard a cry, a familiar cry... calling her name. Arriving in a hidden grove the cub began to circle the dirty and scared form of her sister. With quivering and scraped knees her sister pleaded with her to return home, to come back to the place that felt like a cage. When the cub refused, never breaking her circling of her feline form her sister began to pleased out of desperation and then fear. The fear turned to anger and out of the anger came malice, as the sister called the cub a freak. She said she was always a freak and no one would want her at home anyway. The last threads and connections to humanity, this sisterly bond, snapped almost as quickly as the sister's neck. As only a true predator would.
Knowing that she could never return home, the predator fled to the wild. As a predator she hunted all of the creatures, building her pack, preying on the meeker and weaker creatures. Her time in the woods was the most peace she had in years. She eventually was hunted by her former kind in seeking the truth of the two elven girls killed by some true beast. Her pack grew one by one as the different beasts rallied behind a true apex predator. One by one they came, one by one they found the beast, and swiftly found a gruesome death. Eventually the woods were deemed too dangerous to traverse. Out of fear and desperation for the predator that stalked the woods the elves, who called the wood home for centuries, set the forest ablaze. The fire raged, the predator ran through the flames becoming enflamed by them, causing this predator to mix with the elements. The city stood no chance as this true apex, wreathed in flame, emerged from the woods and reclaimed the home that had once felt foreign to her - ring by ring of the great tree. The forest was scorched to ash. The tree once full of life, now laid with that life soaking its roots as Sarya, the Inferno Alpha, reigned.