Enemies of Iron
A broken soul, standing on the precipice of eternal evil, given one last chance set aside his infernal power in exchange for his eternal soul
I remember nothing.
I was born one month ago. Before that, there is only blackness. I think I did this to myself. I remember things… Magic, my peerless skill with a blade, my incredible Psychic might. I know other things, things I not should know. Things that no mortal should know… But then again, I am no mortal. I am Celestial. I am Infernal. I am the ill-gotton progeny of some terrible wrong.
I do not know why, but I did this to myself. My own magic has blocked my memory…I want to remember, recall my magical might,but I know if I remember, I risk following my prior footsteps…
I find myself in service to the immortal Ilsundal. When I think of his teachings, the rage in my soul calms.
Ilsundal, god of the elves… or so I have been told. I am no elf, not even close, yet I am proxy to his awesome power… A favor earned, a favor owed… another question I know that should I seek the answer, I might abhore what I find…
I am responsible for so many wrongs. The violence still lurks inside me. The need to dominate barely held in check by the remaining celestial light in my soul.
It seems I must learn why I erased my memories without actually remembering. I must retrace my steps, free of the influence of my extraplanar forebears. Only when I can make decisions without the taint of my ancestors can I ever hope to be whole.
I am still alive because I wanted to be. I have unfinished work upon this world. I must stride across the heavens as a Titan! I must shake the very pillars of creation, and make the immortals bow before me!