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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Puppy Kicker" data-source="post: 1743914" data-attributes="member: 20284">Tureik Stormspawn I am far from a normal man, more created than born. My mind was taken from a peasant child, my body created in the Al'Sharaq Stormvats. The melding of the two is a process created by the priests of this vile city many years ago, though it is far from perfected at this time. I've seen my fellow Stormspawn, minds destroyed by the torture and mindwiping of the Priests, become the thoughtless and heartless killing machines we are all supposed to be. Things have been different for me, though I cannot say whether this is for the better. My mind has returned, unwarped in its rebirth due to the protection of a certain rogue Priest, Ezger. He was not a good man, not by any stretch of my young imagination, but his curiousity protected me nonetheless, and for this I must give him my thanks. And I must mourn his loss, though it is perhaps best for the world.I am told that I was put throught the same training as the others, using my body as a weapon, my magic as artillery. I cannot remember this, but the skills are there, so I've no reason to doubt Ezger's words on the matter. My command of the combat arts have served me well since my escape, and the power of the storm cannot be questioned. But I can feel the tingle of magic not my own when it is around, and the pain when it is too close. I know that I was created by magic, and I know that I will be destroyed by the same. But my powers are not the subject, my past is.When my thoughts began to resurface, something that happens to all Stormspawn shortly after the mind and body are melded, I was taken to the mindwipe area with others that were "resurfacing" to be erased. By chance I was chosen by Ezger for an experiment, something about using our resurfacing thoughts to enhance our warring abilites, instead of simply erasing the errant thoughts. He protected me from the erasing process and even taught me such things as reading and a bit of the geography while my mind was attempting to catch hold. He kept me hidden at all times, for this experiment was not sanctioned by the Priesthood, and I spent the next several weeks hidden from the destructive influence of the Stormspawn training. During this time I first began to hear the voices, voices from a childhood I had never experienced but that my spirit had. As time went on I became more capable of distinguishing the "memories" from what I now know as the real voice I heard in my dreams. The voice of a Goddess.Shortly before my escape these dreams became more real to me, things I remembered upon waking from my meditations. The image of a beautiful woman with skin of alabaster and hair of midnight. She told me that chance had not created me, and that I must serve my purpose. Alas that she did not tell me what it was! I never told Ezger about this, fearful that he might attempt to call upon the power of his own God to stop my dreams. It is now too late, for fate seems to have decided it is time to push me to the said purpose.Three days ago the Priests discovered my existence, and I fled over the charred bodies of two priests and Ezger. After escaping the twisted halls of the temple, bleeding and bruised but rejuvenated by my first breath of the outside air, I fled to the sorthwest. As I experienced the outside world I began to experience a resurfacing of old memories, memories of a childhood cut short. It is a desert I run in, Vareeni perhaps is its name. The force that draws me I cannot identify, but I do know that I can think of nothing but a small town in this desert, near which I see faces floating. I must seek these faces, thus it is toward this town that I now run...</blockquote>

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