The Begging

In the beging of it all Angelics ruled governing and moderating all activites of the worlds. However with any and all good there is found its twin, evil. Demonics florished off the pain and suffering of others. And so with the birth of man, evil found new ways of suffering and pain. For you see the humans are weak and pitiful they turn to power and kneel before it as if it were God. Through the bending of the human will evil set the world a blaze. Terror and pain rained apon the earth with an iron fist. It was in turn that Angelic's fell to eath, most in hopes of changing this corruption. But as with all powers, they soon fall. Angelics slowly became subjects to evil, some of our most powerfull warriors began to kneel to the uprising evil. Mirrioe, my mentor, even he fell to the Demonic's power. With the loss of my mentor and the loss of my close friends, a feeling I had never felt before slowly began to grow from withen me. This feeling grew and grew with each of the many wars I fought in, everytime I saw a brothern fall to the Demonic it built. Finaly this feeling came to be my own outcast from the heavens. The high counsil of Angelics knew of my hatred and with it the will of evil. Though I pleaded against their accusations, I too was cast. Though the pain I endured was far worse than death. I was exiled by my own. My own brothern. As the wars continued I did what I could for my people, my brothers. But even Angelics have breaking points... It was the fourth day in the War of Sloughter. I had been helping the Angelics as best I could saveing the ones left behind. It was on the evening of that day I was cought and it was that night I stood trial once again by my people... They called me a trader, they said I had no place with them, that I was better off dead. Never have words cut me so deep, so cold. Anger, something no Angelic had ever known of, built, festered and corrupted my soul. As their taunts grew louder in my head my anger grew to be too much for me. I tired to recoil from their encampment, to no evail. I pleaded with them to just kill me then, they wouldnt. I finaly snaped. Takeing hold of my old captin and good friend, I wailed apon him as if he were my enemy. The others tried to pull me off but couldn't. I just kept attacking and attacking. It was then the Demonics rose and attacked the encampment, it was then I came to my senses and saw what I had done. My captin my commander, lay there dieing, my fists covered in his sheding blood. I paniced, I knew not what else to do. I ran far and fast into the deep woods. It was there I vowed I would never again strike out of anger. It was there I vowed a eternal hate for the Demonics and Angelics, and it was there I cursed myself. I cursed myself to the angish of being alone. I would never again feel the pain of betrail, the pain of loss, nor the pain of loseing all you have to hold dear to you.1