Ishavor

"There are no endings for us, happy or otherwise, until we die.  A fairy tale only ends happily because that's the point where the storyteller stops telling the story."

Beginnings of Ishavor
Ishavor was once a monk in far Cathay belonging to the order of the Heavenly Dragon(rough Translation). Like many of the monks Ishavor was on orphan. Villagers had happened upon the the aftermath of an attack on a merchant caravan, the attackers ogers. He was found half buried under a smashed wagon; any other survivors had been discovered and dragged of to the cook pots. The villagers took the babe in swaddling to the local monestry to be cared for.

Ishavor was raised a monk of the Earth Dragon and as was the way of the monks, Ishavor assisted the nearby villages in manual labour, teaching them to read, caring for the sick and doing anything that would be of help to others. The monks learned many skills and like the Monks of the Celestial Dragon, took up arms in times of need.

The death of Ishavor
One day an outlying village requested aid. People were missing from their homes some of their bodies found in the surrounding woods and hills, their bodies mangled. Ishavor was sent to investigate as it was suspected the work of a man, albiet deranged and violent. No bear, wolf or troll had ever been(or would be) able to open doors and steal people from their homes.

So Ishavior set out in search of a murderer. After a week and a half he came upon a trail in the hills and began to follow it. After some time the trail veered of into the tree line. The further into the woods the darker it became and soon it was as dark as night. Walking almost blind Ishavor began using his stave like a cane feeling his way more than seeing. A flickering fire began to emerge out of the darkness. Approaching the fire Ishavor began to see a lone figure at the fire. A pale figure made yellow by the fire sat polishing a bracer. One sturdy pack horse and a giant black destrider were tethered of to the side. Among the saddle bags was a small collection of weapons.

Spying Ishavor the stranger invited him over to take warmth by the fire. After some pleasentries and small talk Ishavor questioned the stranger on the murders. The stranger readlily admitted to the crimes. Bewildered Ishavor could only listen on as the stranger then explained his actions- never denying that he had killed the villagers. Ishavor then declared that he must take the murderer into custody and by force if need be. The stranger just smiled and said it was impossible but the attempt might be fun. After several tense moments a fight broke out, that was as short as it was one sided. The stanger quickly had a heel to Ishavors throat pressing down with unbelievable force, Ishavors stave lay shattered and scattered around the camp. The figure then said that he had no need to kill him and was going to spare him. Ishavor lay on the ground utterly defeated, still there even as the murderer walked away. Fury filled Ishavor as he called the retreating figure a 'monster'. The figure stiffened then turned bearing down on Ishavor. Faster than his eyes could truely follow, the figure closed the intervening space and lifted Ishavor with a single hand. The figures eyes burned with a feral flickering light. Spots of black obscured his vision until he could see nothing. The last thing he heard was "Monster... no, something else."

The First Night of Death
Defeated utterly, Ishavor dragged himself to back to the monestary. Bleeding and with broken bones he climbed up to the mountain monestary. Before the doors he collapsed as monks rushed out to aid him. He was taken to the infirmary where in a haze he was able to relay his journey to his mentor Zal'or. On a blood soaked mattress he told of his failure to heed his lessons. Zal'or tried to comfort Ishavor but all he would say was that he had failed "My actions were of pride and anger.  I have failed to heed your teachings.  I am sorry". Zal'or stayed with him all through the night, till in the predawn his breathing and his heart stopped.

Ishavor was young and had been a promising acolyte, displaying merit in philosophy, caligraphy and great martial prowess and his loss was keenly felt. His body was intered into a mausoleum with other acolytes of the Heavenly Dragon. Zal'or spent the day in mourning praying before the entrance of the mausolem. In the evening Zal'or heard a rumble from within the mausolem and went inside to investigate. Moving through the mausoleum he found found himself before Ishavor's crypt. From the entrance a pair of predatory eyes reflected the twilight.

In that night the newly turned Ishavor went on a rampage, the red thirst driving him and pushing his concious mind into darkness. Like a shadow of death he moved from room to room killing and draining all monks of life and blood. None could stand against his inhuman speed and monstrous strength. The next afternoon Ishavor awoke