Origins of Sorrow

When the world was still newly made, and the elves, dwarves and other races had begun to flourish upon its surface, the Creator looked upon the world. He looked upon his creations, he looked upon their great longevity and how each race had begun to excel in their pre-defined qualities. The elves had a great affinity with magic as intended, the dwarves were strong and able miners, the primary blacksmiths and toolmakers of the world, the goblins, trolls and other less intelligent creatures were fierce, brutal and unrelenting. Yet vital to the possitive progress of the other races, they provided a common enemy, intended to strengthen and unify the other races until the time would come when the more intelligent races would accept their mutual enemies existence and try to enlighten and teach them.
Peace would exist with all the benefits and technology that war had given them.1

The creator looked upon all this, at his plan spread out across time, and it is imagined he sighed, he knew the inevitable ending. All his races were given free will, but all had pre-defined characteristics that would draw them to pre-defined decisions that, although predicted and intended, were still chosen 'freely'.2

The Creator had made the world, and begun an eternity of war, hatred, love, passion, peace, exploration...countless lives would be spent in their own small intricate worlds dedicated to good, evil, life, death peace or war, an untold number of hero's and villains would bring such joyous inspiration to individuals across time, inspiring those who would come later...it would be such a beautiful and terrible story.
And he was bored. He had made the beginning, and so through his own perfection, made the middle and the end. And he knew it all. Free will to each race was not enough; their own natures would still lead them down the paths he had chosen.3

And thus was the idea of man was formed, a neutral race, one that possessed none and so potentially all of the qualities the other races possessed, imbued with free will and the ability to use it to its full glorious chaotic potential, with a shorter lifespan to encourage its use.
The Creator bade his race of angel sons and daughters bow to his genius, some of them dutifully obeyed their father, kneeling, awed at his genius. Others...did not, 'The First should not bow to the Last' they voiced, unified by their jealousy for their fathers now most favoured creation, they were expulsed, or left for the fringes where their Creators consciousness could not reach, seeking the dark places where nothing still existed, making their own creations which were...flawed.4

Fearing his angered children would seek to utterly destroy mankind were they placed into the world, the Creator thought to prepare them better and stay their placement and so man dwelt with the angels for a time in Edain, the creators own perfect world made for him and his first, most beloved, children.5

It was not long however, before man's chaotic potential began to play out. Their short lifespan began to make them less caring and jealous of the eternal angels, a young pairing were tempted to theft, out of the desire for the extension of life for their parents, and the fear that they too would one day die. They stole the knowledge of immortality from the library of the Creator's knowledge, and, angry at being unable to understand it, destroyed it, devouring the fruits of the Creators mind in their rage.6

For the crime of two the entirety of man were expulsed, upon the Creator's command the angels threw them from Edain into the comparebly harsh world beyond, but before it was accomplished, man, massed in one place, felt a new emotion; such sadness was previously unknown in Edain, sadness had been felt at the passing of relatives, but it had been brief sadness and easily forgotten for its inevitability and the addition of Edain as the perfect place of happiness and contentment soothed the sadness to nothing.
Never before had man, or angel, or even the newly made races below known such great despair, derived from the knowledge that their perfect home was to be lost to them forever, and man and woman cried pure sorrow from their eyes and souls, angels joining them in their immeasurable sadness, their tears forming bodies of clear water only to be mixed with the blood of man and angel as man fought, tooth and nail for their home. And lost. The majority of angels pushing man through into the world with swords of flame.7

And as the feathers of the passing angels fell into the fluid despair of both races, greying as the impurity of blood tainted it, Sorrow was born.8

Seemingly fluid at first, he lay upon the ground, the very basic shape of a man until he was noticed by one of the angels left behind while the other Edain angles completed their task, the angel felt no fear as the fluid Sorrow rose, its mind and body largely shapeless but with one single drive behind it, Sorrow wailed...and wailed...and wailed...screaming the pure agonising despair felt by man and angel alike at mans expulsion from Edain, until the wing of an the Edain angel struck it down, and Sorrow folded itself over the shape of the angel, taking its basic form, its knowledge and abilities, it's wings and it's immortality.
Sorrow stepped from the angel, his grey wings separating from the white of the Edain angels, unfurling and knocking the Edain angel back as Sorrow stumbled, his previously shapeless mind reeling as it became solid and conscious.
He managed to stand, turn and face the Edain angel, whose face was a mask of anger, fear and horrified fascination at the grey angel standing before him settled into shape, grey feathered wings stretching outwards to their full immense wingspan, Sorrow himself at the centre, skin pale like that of an angel, his muscle tone, hair and the rest of his general appearance distinctly human.
The Edain angel, his face unchanging, took in Sorrow's form, stepping closer and staring into Sorrow's eyes...looking into the chaotic depths that were the grey angels mind, a mind not made by the Creator or birthed of his creations, and began screaming in panic, a mix of fear and anger evident in the Edain angels voice as one almost unintelligible word erupted from his lips drawing the attention of all the angels left in Edain and the Creator himself.
Sorrow, unnamed still in his own mind, was subjected to his first word with this mixture of immense panic and anger, the aEdain angels scream pulling the gazes of all the other white feathered angels towards him, their faces masks of puzzlement, anger and in some places, recognition and fear of what he was. They closed a circle around Sorrow, swords of flame coming up as the first Edain angel ceased his wail, lifted one wing towards Sorrow and spoke again, his voice a snarl...'Abomination...'.