This banishment of Kalipha the Chained occurred centuries ago. The knowledge of what leveled within that fortnight only vanished to the deep corners of books and scrolls, on which were stored in bolted locks, covered in light rust. It was believed that information on such shouldn't be revealed to the civilization; unless necessity was achieved.

The stirring of the commoners increased in the secrets and rumors about the hidden scroll. Most of the humans believed that words such as these were conscientious as the high authorities believed; not worthy of their eyes. Elves however with enhanced intelligent and connected to the soils their pale skin reaped upon, apprehended better. Wisdom of history was the keen factor that gave curiosity into facts. Every elf knew this statement and lived by so. Until one humanized elven disagreed. Free will soon would dig into boundaries of this small figure in order to ravish the soul that it held tight.

Osatei was in lack of wisdom since he only evenhanded became of age. His tall lanky figure proved to be nimble with athletic individualism but unneeded in battle. Only his irises showed signs of evil intentions with the shade of stained blood. If it wasn't for the dagger that was tucked into his pack he would be considered harmless in the feat of war. For this not just an intense switchblade for it also held sentimental value on which the ivory handle was carved upon.

A month ago Osatei was forced into war against the rivals of the East. The dwarfs that settled upon this rugged land increased their patrols on the southern border next to the Veridan Lake. This caused a depletion of vegetation by the large feet trails they set. In attempt for this to be averted the Elven King Mestian arranged a meeting with the ruler of the dwarfs; Sero. Unlike the calm nature of the elves Sero was fierce and short tempered and when the pale creatures attempted to exchange views he verge it as exemplary of weakening their forces. An inclusive, misunderstanding caused a befall of dwarfs and elves alike.

The outcome of the battle was horrendous as bodies of elves and dwarfs lingered and bloated amongst the others. Iron rose into the air and flooded the pollution of destruction. Osatei was one of the few survivors. No, it wasn't strength or courage that got him into an honorable state it was the fright in his heart that formed such a majestic creature leave unattended. Maybe the humans and high authorities knew just of this unless-ness of battle but nonetheless this haunts him even in the presence.

As the battle rages among the unfortunate living many miles to the east, the sun rises to the north without ever warming the walls of the Chained Citidel, whose environs are chill even at the height of summer. Deep under the fell fortress the once-empty cells that held prisoners of war now host the fodder for Kalipha's experiments. Scores have lived, died, and been resurrected here. Few remain who truely breath the air with living lungs, one such victim lies in the center of a locked cell, curled in a tight ball facing away from the door.

He was once a proud Lunitari warrior, but no more does he run in the dappled light of his home. Instead he lies in his own filth until the stink-skins come to collect him, for the experiments of the strange pale one whose twisting words seem to command even life itself. He'd been in this place so long that even his memories don't come to him anymore, he feels as if his mind breaks, his dreams are filled with blasted burning landscapes and ash. The Pale-One-that-Reeks-of-Dead takes everything, the wolf-thing knows he has died many times, most recently he felt certain he'd burned to death.

Awakening had come as a surprise, as had the state of his flesh, for he could find no wounds to nurse this time...and his fur, the beautiful blue-gray fur so coveted by his clan, turned the color of darkness. The Pale-One takes everything! Even his three names.

But he could not make himself regret or hate, he didn't have the strength, he simply locked his emerald-colored eyes on the dank wall of his cell in hope that he would not sleep for the nightmares. A loud groan escapes his lips, only to echo around the chambers walls, he couldn't recall the last time any response was made to anything he did. He gave a silent prayer to the four moons that their hearts had fled beyond this place to the hunting fields of the ancestors.

The memory haunted him and revealed to him to significance of failure, on which he was force to deal with. Scenes of the bloody battle drips in his shuttered mind without care. With each step of his pale toes, sinking beneath the harsh drought filled dirt, only pierced his heart with needles. For Osatei had no choice, he had to leave right?

When he returned his soul only fed the demon that was to be at bay. The fellow elven showered him with riches of praise, since they burdened and we're sadden by the passing of their kin. No matter, Ostatel felt blame for the loss, and since he was more human like than elf only time would take that consequence to its death…

Green vegetation flourished form the damp canvas leveled with foliage. Each leaf almost blended irreconcilable the others as it dined on the sunlight for warmth and survival. Sun barely seeped through the compacted forest as each life fought against the other for pure strength, but no matter the outcome many lived in spite of this. Bone tinted claws ripped contrary to the plants. It causally ripped apart the veins and heart of each soul into shattered divisions. The sound of snapping spirits vanished into the air.

A creature so elegant emerged in this unfamiliar continent. Her lush fur matched the scenery in such a custom that it convey the impression that the universe she was accommodated to was created for her and her alone. Rarity chastise the goddess with combinations of fierce beasts. Capability filled the strain that born into her flesh.

In a position of attack her spirit of ghosts eyes flooded the area scanning for predators, but mostly prey. Saliva leisurely formed and dripped as the anticipation, of fresh nourishment ravished in her mouth.

Part-1
In the dark cell an ear twitched, someone was coming, and it wasn't the stink-skins. This tread sounded light to the huddled Lunitari, The Pale-One had only rarely come down to this place, it was him for no other in this place could step so lightly yet fill him with such dread. Within moments his cell door opened, casting a bluish magical light into his small chamber, The Pale-One smelled of decayed flowers and unknown spices. Gagging a little on the stench, the wolf barely aknowledged this new presence, even when his self-proclaimed "master" spoke to him directly. An even rarer occasion than his visits.

"Arrise, Beast, feed and I shall place on you a new mantel which befits your new status...If you survive my test." At this he laughs, then something thick, wet, and heavy rebounds off the back of the wolf's head. Slamming the door, The Pale-One can be heard muttering to himself, which is ignored by anything larger than a rat.

Moving for the first time in hours, the cell's occupant turns over to investigate the item he'd been struck with. After only a few stunned seconds he is up and tearing at the first meat to pass his lips in longer than he cares to remember even if he could. It's still warm, juicy even, and ever more beastlike the wolf-man seems as he gnaws on the bone to get at the marrow. When there is nothing left to eat a voice, The Pale-one's, sounds from everywhere inside this cell: "Beast, your cell is not locked, follow the trail I left for you. At it's end you shall face my champion, IF you survive you will find a new name and more morsels to fill your belly. These are the gifts I offer to you and much more, for your obedience."

Rising to his feet, the wolf does not trust anything he hears, but cannot stop himself from following The Pale-One's directions, for his lips tremble at the thought of more food such as this. Hating himself, he claws the cell door open to find an easily-identified trail of blood from the meat he'd just consumed leading off into the darkness of the corridor outside his cage.

Part-2
Drool falls from his mouth as the wolf licks his bloody chops, he knows not what he craves more at this point, the meat or the freedom from his filthy cell, but he stumbles along the hallway passing cells reeking of decay. He even stops several times to lick moisture from the walls with his sore tounge, there doesn't seem to be any reason to hurry as there aren't any guards to be found by ears or nose. This trip seems to strengthen him with every step, however, and the wolf feels certain that his "master" may have put something to help him recover in the meat. A sigh is heard as he finds a set of stairs leading upwards, he smells fresher air coming from above, this quickens his heart.

The rest of the journey is a blur of black stone leading to ever fresher air, the Lunitari soon finds himself blinded by morning light, a familliar voice welcomes him to his final "Arena."

The thing that meets his still recovering sight is monsterous, it easily stands an arms length over him. It is shaped not-unlike The Pale-One himself, except much thicker, that and the smell eminating from the thing almost causes the Wolf's sensitive eyes to water. It starts to move at a gesture from its master, advancing on the only other living thing in this small courtyard with a booming slow gait.

Terrified for his life, the wolf darts right and smashes into some sort of barrier, bruising his cheek and causing him to yelp in surprise. This gives the undead goliath time to reach him, he is roughly grabbed by the scruff of his neck only to be violently thrown accross the courtyard, where he lands with a muffled thud on the overgrown turf.

This continues for several long moments before Kalipha loses his patience, "FIGHT BACK, BEAST! Or I will slay you myself and save us both from this farce!" He slashes the air with his right arm, the sleeve sliding back to reveal an iron manacle and broken chain around that wrist.

Terrified, cornered, tortured, and with the taste of freedom ebbing away forces the wolf to snap. Mid-stride he turns from fleeing to claw the giant with his right forepaw, shredding large chunks from it's face. The golem, unfased by the attack, attempts to crush its pray with a single two-armed hammerblow. Beyond fear now, the wolf snarls a challenge, hackles standing on end he dives under the blow and around behind this monster. As it stands stupidly staring at the place where there should be a bloody pile of meat, the wolf leaps upon its back with a savage bark that causes Kalipha's eyes to widen in surprise. It takes the monster several long seconds to realize it is under attack, in which time large gobbets of fetid flesh fly in every direction from tooth and claw. Confusion causes the creature to make a grave mistake, instead of reaching back to dislodge its attacker or simply falling backward to crush him, the thing turns in a slow circle in an attempt to find him.

A minute later the wolf is standing over the twitching monster's frame, panting heavily with shoulders tense and hands still hooked to claw, he turns his blazing eyes to Kalipha. To his credit The Chained One swallows his surprise, clapping, he advances on the wolf.

"Bravo! My General! You have slain your opponent in single combat, I therefore dubb thee Noir, from the old text which I believe means 'shadow' or-..." Kalipha stops suddenly, noticing a black acrid smoke now curling from the beasts body, snarling louder now, Noir turns on his torturer.

Seeing only revenge, Noir feels as if his body will burst apart, heat is building in him. At the crescendo his fur bursts into a blazing inferno, unable to hold it in Noir roars his fury at Kalipha in the form of a thirty foot long jet of fire.

Dumbfounded, Kalipha the Chained teleports to the outside wall above Noir's head, "the elemental....It worked...." The mage's voice is filled with disbelief and wonder, so much so that he's almost tackled by a six foot pissed off flaming werewolf. He saves himself by unceremoniously diving to the ground and covering his head, though he quickly recovers to watch his successful experiment plummet to the river below with a loud 'HISS.'

Kalipha watches Noir as he is pulled away by the swift flow, a wide smile on his thing lips.