Flames of Azinoth
Whispers, murmurs, dark thoughts seeping into reality. Is this a dream? Is this reality? whatever it is, it is certainly a nightmare. Born into the most prestigious human family, Lloyd Grafton was raised as a prince, always getting his way and never being second place in life. He was content with life, and was happy in his place as the heir to the throne of his father until one day a thought crossed his mind. What if he could have it all? Not just the lands of the humans, but those of the elves, and the Dwarves! And even the Dragons! (Should they even be real, which his father insisted that they were). He voiced these opinions to his father in hopes of gaining more inheritance land and influence. His father did not seem to be pleased with his thoughts so he decided to send his son on a journey to Tauron to spend a few weeks in the elven territory. Lloyd went willingly hoping to get a look at the defenses and weaknesses of the elves. Within a few short days there he was summoned to Anduin’s chambers to participate in an exercise of magic. He had never seen powerful magic before so he was intruiged when he walked in and saw a pentagon drawn in the very center of the room and 4 robed figures standing around it. The next memory he had was of waking up in a comfy bed in the elvish town of Thralandon. He had forgotten everything and begin his life anew, as a pacifist, as a gatherer, as a peaceful monk… But there was something else, something dark. whispers late at night with no one around. Darkness, lovely darkness coming to him and comforting him. Speaking to him as if he were a prince, promising power and might. Promising him the world, if only he would listen. And Lloyd began to answer the calls, he began to corrupt the village, first poisoning the water, then murdering his fellow monks as they slept. Anduin soon learned of this disturbance and came to check on his friends youngest son. Seeing a dark glimmer in Lloyd’s eye Anduin spoke an incantation meant to freeze Anduin in place. Having no effect whatsoever, the spell only served to enrage Lloyd. Screaming his rage with such raw intense fury he began to change. First his skin, peeling back and stretching tight over his now skeletal frame gave an eerie aura of being undead. His cloak tearing around the edges and billowing with some dark energy began to raise him into the air. His back arched and the darkness seemed to well up inside of him before exploding in a shatter of noise and blind rage. Anduin rose from the chaos to watch as Lloyd’s body contorted such that his frame snapped in every possible way except the correct one. Breaking every bone in his body Lloyd seemed to feel no pain. With not a tear in his eye, nor grimace on his face he arose from the grass in the dead field that once was Thralandon. A smile cracking across his face he watched as Anduin pulled the staff from his back and pointed it directly at him assaulting him with such powerful magic a mortal would have been utterly vanquished. With a cackle of glee he returned the onslaught, the most incredible display of magical prowess was never witnessed on that day as all spectators were either killed or met a much worse end. To this day, we know not what kind of magic was used, nor what overcame Lloyd in his peaceful life in Tauron, but what we do know is that he fled. Being too spent from his fight with Anduin he retreated to the Underdark (a land beneath lands) to amass his strength for another push into the world.