Falling Up (Planescape Storyhour)

Kail Bar'Zen stared intently at the cavern floor. Wrapped in their molted grey cloaks, he and his team resembled just another formation of stalagmites hanging from the cealing of the labryninthine cavern. They had been there for hours, croaching in wait for the Siü caravan that had been spotted two days earlier. He could feel his mind wandering, and faught to maintain his vigile. Suddenly he felt a change in the stance of Riez Fai'Tlom, one of his fellow sentinels.
He felt the rest of his team turn with him, all their eyes fixing on the thing that had alerted their comrade. The vangard of the caravan had entered the maze of damp stalactites and fungi that covered the floor of the lightless cavern. Kail's eyes narrowed, and a faught to keep down the grin that threatened to cover his face. His hand clenched on the hilt of his sword. The grin began to spread over his face despite his efforts to supress it.
It seemed to take hours for the rest of the caravan to emerge and enter the natural maze. It seemed an eternity for them to achive the point that his team had selected to make their attack at, a small open space among the stalacmites, surrounding a pool of brackish water, streaked through with black phosphoresence. With perfect silence, Kai's team leapt into the air, the world suddenly spinning as his up became down, his down up, and suddenly he is falling head first twoards the cavern floor. As he falls, he lets instinct take over, and in a moment, down and up again reverse, and he is hurtling up twoards the cavern floor at a rapidly decreasing rate.
Then, suddenly, the hatred consumes him. He can sense his enemies, and knows that they can sense him. The heads of the Siü snape up, and their deadly symbiotic claw beasts clack their mandibles in antipation of blood. As he reaches the top of the parabolic trajectory he had traced, just a few feet over his foes and their waiting chitin blades, down changes a final time, and he falls into the masses of his enemies, his blade ringing free of its scabard in a leathal arc, and a hateful joy courses through him as he feels the life of one of his enemies snuffed out. He is dimily aware of the arivale of the rest of his team, and the sudden ending of Siü life that acompanies their arivale. Then he is among the Siü, his blade whirling, tracing a bloody path through flesh and bone. The pounding of blood fills his ears, and the cloying VeilMist ripples as he moves, distorting his vision. Then all thought leaves him, as he surrenders to the Hatred of his foes, the dark grin covering his face.
As he enters the killing trance that has already consumed his compainions and enemies, time seems to lose all meaning. All there is is the endless dance of death and blood. In a minute, an aeon passes, and when the last Siü corpse falls to the ground, Kail blinks and reaches up to clear the blood from his eyes. He reaches down to clean the blood from his hands in the pool of shifting darkness. As the blood on his hands touches the water, a feeling of falling fills the warrior. Startled, he tries to reassert his down, and yet there is no effect. He feels himself fall though the icy pool, out, into a different cold. Terror fills him at the feeling of the vast darkness surrounding him, his senses frantically searching for anything, any object to orient himself on. As the cold emptyness envelopes him, a memory rises unbiden to his mind.
His ancestor, well over a thousand years of age, hunched over a coarpse in the great Cavern of Offerings, gripping his arm and whispering, making him touch the dead flesh of the corpse, making him feel to mortal wounds that had brought it down. His ancestor's touch had felt like this cold, this draining enervation that now suffused his limbs. He smiled slightly at the thought of his ancient ancestor, and the world lurched again.
As the world snapped back into focus around Kail, he twisted, altering his down to the nearest surface. He landed heavily on the rough street, the sounds of a city hitting him almost as hard as the stone. He staggered to his feet, his world spinning, and took in the sight of the filthy, smog filled street, and the bladed buildings that lined it. With this, he collapsed, his mind falling into the comforting void of unconciousness.

Kail Bar'Zen, Graveteth Herald of Death

Kail Bar'Zen was born to the streets of the great Graveteth (grave 'teth) city Zer'kolos (zer - col os). At a young age he entered one of the Thieves' Monastaries, where he learned the deadly martial arts of the cities poor and forgotten. His life would have, in all probability, continued in a similar vein until his death had he not had a chance encounter with a Risen belonging to the Heralds of Death, the highest order of the Warrior Aristocracy of the City. Although his street training was not enough to defeat the noble, he did severly injure the Herald. This achivement fascinated the Herald, who took Kail in as his student. He learned the dual arts of Swordsmanship and Politics rapidly, quickly rising to Herald status himself. He was leading a team of lesser warriors in an ambush targeting a caravan of the Graveteth racial enemies, the Siü (see oo), when he fell through a freak porthole, ariving in Sigil by way of the Negative Energy plane.

Personality: His years on the streets of Zer'kolos, and his training under an undead Herald of Death, have instilled in Kail a somber demenor. He has a cautious nature, sharpened by the Byzantine politics of Zer'kolos. Under all this, however, is a burning passion for life that shows through in the heat of battle.

Apearence: Kail is short for a Graveteth, a little over six feet tall. He has a slender build, and his skin is a light blue with royal blue markings on his arms and face. His hair is black, and he wears it sholder length. He wears black leather armor, studded with silver and cold iron.

Just as a suggestion, edit the storyhour post to put a line between each paragraph. It's really hard to read as it is right now. Make it easy on the eyes and I'll read it regularly since it's right up my alley.