(( An expanded biography for my character, Ralis, explaining more about his past and his changes It's pretty long and not for the faint of heart! Probably be hard to read all at once ^^; .))
(From the original bio in his profile
Ralis is no stranger to grief and misfortune. His father was a demented man who spent most of his days locked upstairs in his study, fascinated about his experiments in the darkness magic. He would discover new ways to manipulate, new ways to bend it, new ways to harness the darkness for his own personal gain. Ralis' mother, was a reclusive shut-in because of what her husband was doing. The people of the city of New Haven despised Ralis' family for the sins of his father.
Most of the city folk did nothing for the family. No one visited, no one cared to check on them. They were truly afraid to go near them in public. Ralis never quite understood this, especially as a child. Still though, Ralis' father had not done anything that granted them a reason to lawfully remove the family from the city. Until one day, when Ralis was near his tenth birthday.
Ralis' father had murdered a man who was snooping around their estate. Fearful of what the town would do if they found out, he took the body and disposed of it. Apparently someone had seen him in the act. The townsfolk were in an uproar about this and became hostile towards the family. However, since there was no actual proof, the city officials could do nothing except begin a fruitless investigation.
Ralis was often bullied and belittled by his young peers and one day he was even attacked by some of the other children. Angered by how his only son was treated with such disdain, his father began to teach the boy his powers and methods for "protective purposes." His mother, however didn't like this and continuously attempted to dissuade her husband from going through with this. After a series of heated arguments, he compromised with her and she helped train Ralis with fire and water, trying to help balance his teachings.
Years passed as Ralis continued his training with his parents, soon nearing his thirteenth birthday. The soon-to-be teenager was wandering the streets on his way home one day when he was confronted with two much large and older boys. Boys with knives. They wanted to prove themselves to their peers, by carving their names into Ralis' skin. However, as soon as they brought their hands down to cut him...
A tendril of darkness wrapped around each of their wrists in a vice grip, squeezing intensely which made the young men drop their weapons. Ralis made their wrists twist more and more until he heard sickening cracks and pops. The two screamed in agony and Ralis simply silenced them, having two more tendrils wrap around their necks and heads, hearing another set of popping sounds, followed by a pair of loud thumps. The two were on the ground, limp and cold.
Terrified at what he had just done and the other people who actually saw him commit the act, Ralis sprinted straight home and told his father what happened. Ralis' father laughed, awaiting this moment. He ordered his son and his wife into the basement, and to barricade it. They did as they were told, wondering what was going to happen. There were sounds of hundreds of footstep, angry shouting, and his father. Those angry voices suddenly turned to shrieks. Loud thumps were heard against the floor and the walls. Wood was being splintered, skin was being torn. Every now and then, there was a splatter of liquid against the floor.
After all of the noises stopped, Ralis began to clear the way out of the basement, emerging in the remains of their home. Furniture was scorched and broken, walls had gaping holes in them, the floor was littered with bodies of the city-folk. His father was not there. After a few minutes of rummaging around throughout the house, there was no sign of him. None of the corpses were him, he had simply vanished. At the sight of such carnage in her only sanctuary in this world, his mother trembled and cried, reaching down to grab one of the knives brought by the mob. Just a few moments later, it had pierced her heart.
Ralis turned around, seeing what she was about to do. He froze in terror and disbelief. Before he broke out of his stupor, it was too late. She soon fell to the floor, joining the assortment of other city folk as a corpse, in their ranks now. Ralis trembled with several feelings all at once. Tears formed in his eyes, just as his hands clenched into fists. Running up to his father's precious study, he kicked the door open. Of course his father was nowhere to be found. Ralis decided to get the next best thing.
Tendrils of shadow ripped down bookshelves, just as jets of flame ignited the pages of every tome, every log and book within the study. This was all his fault. He started everything that ruined Ralis' life, and he wanted his revenge. He began to tear down the bookshelves and kicked the desk over with his enraged strength. He blinked, seeing something shiny fall out of a box that was perched atop on of the bookshelves. Upon further inspection, it was revealed as a beautifully crafted revolver, wielding two barrels instead of one. The silver metal elegantly curved down to an ebony handle. Interesting.
Ralis found the box which it fell from and nabbed the holster, putting it on over his hip, sheathing the firearm within. As he turned to leave the smoldering study, he glanced up at his father's coat rack. A black, hooded cloak was hanging off one of the pegs of the rack. Ralis reached up and snatched it free, donning the cloak. It was a little big for him now, but it helped conceal him, pulling the hood down over his head. Ralis made his way outside, crawling out of the wrecked doorway that led into his house.
Ralis marched down the steps that led to the rest of the city, looking back at the home once more. He grit his teeth, turning around to face the building. With a flick of his wrist, another jet of flame hurtled towards the building and set the roof aflame. Soon it would be nothing. The young man made his way out of the city, wandering. He wouldn't stop until he found his father and exacted his revenge.
Three years ago when he left, he destroyed most of his home as well as the surrounding land. He razed the thatched roofs of homes, he shattered the stone walls of the city, he ripped apart the iron portcullis that sealed those within and escaped. All of those who had tried to stop him were slain by his incredible powers. Something powerful and dark awoke within him that day. Anger, power, hate, rage, sorrow, grief and bloodlust manifested within him and excelled his extraordinary gifts to new heights. Those who opposed him that night did not have a chance.
The young ravager carved his way in and out of New Haven, searching for the very man that doomed his family to being public pariahs. His own father was the reason his family was so ostracized and belittled. It was all his fault that he no longer had a home to call his own. After breaking into just about every home with a path of flames in search for retribution that night.
Townsfolk raised up against him. They conjured their own inferior spells of fire, earth, water and wind. Some strung bows to fire arrows at him while others loaded their guns and let a rain of bullets fall upon him. As if it were a guardian spirit, the darkness around him rose up in his defense. It swallowed the flames and water as well as blocked the wind and earth. It swatted away every pesky projectile that dared to approach its precious master.
The destroyer’s anger grew as the people tried to stop it from having his revenge. Soon, none were left standing to oppose him. However… the swath of destruction that he made through the entire city was all for not. His father was nowhere to be found. He had fled long ago. Having no reason to stay here, he left New Haven to burn in his footsteps as the individual chased after his father.
However… those who fled flocked to surrounding towns and cities, bringing word of the wanton destruction that had decimated New Haven. Word soon traveled across the kingdom and the capitol, Empyrean Heights. The nobles learned of such a tragedy that befell their once great city. Soon after, an effort was officially set forth to restore Hew Haven to its former glory and better. The would also send the finest spellweavers and magicians to set an institution up there, to ensure this would never happen again.
Master mages of the institute helped construct a glorious tower that was modeled after the pristine and luxurious decadence of the capitol, Empyrean Heights. The tower stood hundreds of feet in the air, dwarfing all other buildings and structures in an always ridiculous proportion. Something else about the tower is the fact that it was built upon the supernatural hotspot, the area in New Haven with such an untapped well of magic… the old Lerin place, or what was left of it.
Ralis had earned himself quite a reputation as “The Ravager” and as another effort to make sure those like him, or if the Ravager were to return himself one day, they could be able to stop him and capture him. The mere thought that one person could lay waste to an entire city in less than a day was unimaginable to even some of the oldest and most practiced sorcerers. They needed to study him, and begin to think of a way how…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Three Years Later ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“So… they’ve rebuilt it. Made it better, bigger… more elegant. I can’t wait to rip it down again!” a much darker as well as more mature person spoke. Their voice came from upon a high, grassy hill. A single oak tree stood behind him, casting a shadow over the young man. This individual’s clothing almost made him invisible within the shade of the tree. He let out a small laugh of glee, crossing his arms over his chest as he beheld the city of New Haven, rebuilt. There was something new that caught his eye.
In the center of the city, where his family’s estate formerly resided, was a gleaming and triumphant tower that rose and stood tall, casting a shadow over all other buildings. The largest building in town was the barracks, that stood a mighty three stories high. This shimmering, white and almost-marble looking structure was nearly three times the height of the barracks. He merely snorted at the sight, a grin forming across his face.
“I will make sure there is nothing left to rebuild this time… All memories, evidence of this place shall be removed from existence… I want no one to know what has occurred here…” the adolescent spoke softly, taking a step forward off of the hill into nothing but air. Instead of falling from the lack of the footing, a tendril of shadow sprouted from the hillside, catching his step and lowered slowly, soon intertwining with another shadow. Soon, the stranger stepped back upon the ground and snapped his gloved fingers, the shady staircase vanished.
As he made his way into the sunlight, his head turned in its direction. The sun would set soon and night would rule the sky. The gloved hands made their way up to adjust a hood which shrouded the young man’s face from sight. Two feet stomped across the dusty trail, each encased within heavy black leather boots. Soon, he was at a massive gate, two giant wooden doors sealed off the outside world from the citizens within.
The stranger made his way close and brought his knee to his chest, snap kicking his foot against the door. He then pulled back, only to kick once more. Nothing had happened to the door, just as he expected. He did back up however, hearing movement on the other side. The left portion of the door creaked open, just enough for a man clad in silvery metallic armor from head to toe. There was a broadsword sheathed behind him, upon his back. His face seemed rugged with a poorly shaved beard and beads of sweat collected on his brow. Probably from the cumbersome get up.
“What do you want, who are you?” the guard asked promptly, standing alert and facing the shadowy stranger, arms straight down at his sides.
“I am here to conduct a matter of business with some associates of mine, thank you very much,” the young figure said, a sinister grin obscured by the darkness granted by the hood over his head and face.
“Matter of business? I don’t think you should that vague, boy. And you don’t look too friendly garbed in all black. We don’t like shady characters like you in New Haven…” he grimaced, the guard’s face distorting with disgust.
“My apologies, but the sun was very strong today, beating down on me while I was traveling. I don’t tend to enjoy having my complexion in a burnt state,” the stranger spoke softly, smirking.
“We’ll be keeping an eye on you… try anything funny and you’ll regret it, boy,” the guard sneered before sidestepping away from the gate, allowing the newcomer entrance into the restored New Haven. He was a tad curious about that tower, and the fact that it was built in the northeast corner of the city, right about where his family’s estate used to be…
“Say, what’s that there?” the stranger asked, a gloved hand slowly rose up from his side to point straight at the beautiful structure that stood so high in the sky.
The guard blinked slightly, looking back at the one garbed in all black. “Eh? You kidding me, boy? You don’t know what the Great Bastion is?” he asked, somewhat flabbergasted, one eye widened with surprise while the other squinted in suspicion.
“No, what is this Bastion?” he asked, still not satisfied from the lack of clarification.
“Them magicians and sorcerers came year maybe three and four years ago and built that. There’s supposed to be some deep magic under the tower. I suppose it would make sense to build it on top of that,” the guard shrugged, seeming indifferent about the matter.
“Really? Why there?” the stranger inquired further, starting to become slightly frustrated about how boring this conversation was being made, thanks to the idiot who spoke little sense.
“Meh… the Lerin lunatic was born there. His dad was a complete freak of nature and his wife never left the house. Their son was an awful combination of the creeps. The dad went wacko one day and the people tried to force the family out with a mob… they end up killing him, and the son comes outta the wreckage, killing everybody..” he said, pausing in between thoughts as if having to recite this little speech he gave.
This infuriated the stranger even more. “The boy… the boy’s name, do you happen to remember it?” he asked through clenched teeth, the gloved hands beginning to curl into leathery black fists.
“Ohh… lemme think here,” the guard began, his eyes rolling up towards his hair in thought. “Yeah, yeah… Ralis the Ravager is what they called him,” he nodded.
“The Ravager?” he asked again. “Really, the Ravager? After all that, they couldn’t come up with anything better than that?”
“You sure ask too many damn questions, kid… now are you gonna be going on your way and leave me alone anytime today, because-,” he was cut off, his sentence interrupted by a gasping sound as well as the constant chattering and clamoring of his chain and plate mail armor.
The stranger wheeled about, now facing the guard who was currently being throttled. A dark, long tendril was sprouting up from behind him, coming from his own shadow. It squeezed around his neck and lifted him off of ground an inch or so, making his face redden and his eyes bulge.
“You sure like to run your mouth about things you can’t begin to comprehend!” he roared, his arms trembling with rage that was just waiting to be unleashed. “I’ve come back and this time… I won’t leave anything behind!”
With his last breath, his last gasp for air, the guard choked, “..Ralis!”
The name was soon followed by silence. The metal armor hanged still on the man’s body and his neck leaned back against the shadowy tendril. The silence was then followed by a loud thump and a heavy clang of metal. Although Ralis had felt a bit relieved, he sighed and shook his head, turning back around.
“Oh, hello,” Ralis smiled kindly from under his shroud. There was a man, a common street peasant standing a distance of several feet away. His knees trembled in his patched up dirt-brown pants and his heart was pounding beneath the tattered green tunic, a bead of cold sweat dropped down from his face onto the sun drenched ground.
The commoner took a trembling step backwards, afraid that if he were to run… he would then be killed. The Ravager’s smile soon twisted into a grin, chuckling darkly.
“Run. Tell them… tell them all,” he spoke softly, just loud enough for him to hear. The terrified peasant turned on his heel and bolted towards the rest of town, screaming the name of the intruder. “Perfect…”
He pushed his hand into his cloak, freeing the fated firearm from its holster and outstretched his arm to aim as he sauntered down main street. His free hand snapped their gloved fingers together and several smaller tendrils sprang from his shadow, reaching into the pack he hanged off his shoulder that rested at his hip.
A few moments later, each tendril pulled back, wrapped around a dozen various pieces of sharp metal, complete with interlocking joints. The pieces that supposedly joined the objects together were missing however. It didn’t matter to Ralis as he casually flicked his free hand up to the air, the tendrils following, carrying the objects skyward.
With another snap of his fingers, the metallic joints were thrown higher into the air and each tendril that held them joined together, funneling upward and swirling down towards Ralis’s opened hand. As each fragment fell into the vortex, the shadows swallowed every one until the funnel collapsed in on itself.
The cylindrical shroud of darkness seeped south into Ralis’s sleeve and begin to work its way into his clothing, making it as close to indestructible as it could. The shadows fused with every thread, every button, every strand, piece, everything. Ralis then looked upwards. His palm was closed, fingers wrapped around the black metal hilt of a cruel two-handed blade. The blade’s pommel was a silver and black skull, two silver metallic fragments that resembled human bones split out of the skull, forming the guard.
The first segment of the actual blade was straight, leading up to a black line that broke off into another fragment, again and again. There were several holes along the blade were its bolts were supposed to go, replaced by solidified shadows. Ralis twisted his arm behind his back, holding the sword with merely one arm. Although it looked to be too heavy to wield without both hands, the shadows imbued within and around the blade almost made it weightless to him.
DING…! DONG…! a giant bell rung. Another set of rings followed and Ralis glanced to where they seemed to originate. The Great Bastion. It was nothing but a thorn to him, despite its monstrous girth. Nothing but an annoying thorn in his side that he was about to remove for good.
“No one’s escaping…!” Ralis declared, throwing his revolver high towards the sky. A tendril chased after the firearm arm whilst his new free hand ignited with flames and thrust back behind him, blasting the city’s gate with fire. He clenched his burning fist and the fires sizzled into nothingness just as the tendril caught his gun, placing it back in his hand.
His ears caught the sounds of heavy, cumbersome footsteps, all moving in succession. They slower became louder, closer, more numerous. “About time,” he snorted, rolling his eyes with boredom.
A line of plated warriors soon turned the corner onto the main street where he was advancing. Several of them bore shields, swords and pikes while the other behind them wielded bows, crossbows and even rifles. “Take him down!” one of them yelled. The archers aimed their weapons upwards and released their arrows in an arc while the men with crossbows and riflemen aimed in between their fellow comrades, all shooting at him.
Every shadow in the vicinity, his own, the ones from the defenders, the ones being cast by the buildings all swarmed down to his feet and rose up, encasing Ralis within a dark cocoon of sanctity. Every arrow, bolt and bullet that made its mark was suspended within the shadowy shield. However, the shield tore away from its master and rose off of the ground, now hovering in midair with each projectile lodged within.
“My turn,” Ralis said and with yet another snap of his fingers, the orb exploded outward towards the protectors. Almost every man that formed the front line was shot, now on the ground either dead or grievously wounded.
“Quick, fall back!” they shouted and made a desperate attempt to retreat and call for reinforcements. This made him grin, tilting his revolver to its side and the barrel popped from the chamber, each slot fit for a bullet was vacant. Not for long. Soon, smaller shadows flew into the revolver and Ralis flipped it shut and aimed, pulling the trigger.
Two orbs of darkness were freed from the chamber and chased one of the men down, striking him straight in the back. There was no puncture in his armor, but instead two heavy and large dents which sent him flying dozens of feet forward, slamming onto the ground and knocking him out cold, if not worse. Ralis repeated this cycle, downing four more men before they escaped deeper into the streets, making his way forward still.
He then sheathed his revolver, his free hand ignited with fires again. “If you don’t come out and face me, I’ll make you!” he roared, tossing flames left, right, back, forth, up, down, to, fro. Each burning blast caught the roofs and beams of homes, houses, inns, everything that could be burned, would be.
“Enough!” a gruff and booming voice commanded. The ravager turned his head and averted his gaze towards a figure garbed in silvery white robes, a hood obscuring his face. A dark brown beard with several white strands draped down out of the nape of the robe, reaching to the newcomer’s chest. There was a black sash tied at his waist, an ivory sheath being held against his hip with it. The sheath was empty however, its blade was in the right hand of the owner.
White-gloved fingers wrapped around a golden hilt with a domed guard above it, leading to a one-sided blade. The blade however was bathed in a heavenly glow, as if the sun was reflecting off of every metallic inch. Ralis couldn’t help but stare at the strange blade, it seemed to be the exact polar opposite of his own sword. “Stop this wanton destruction of our city!”
“And who are you to take to me like that?” Ralis asked, angered slightly from this old man’s arrogance. He aimed his revolver towards the figure, pulling the trigger to release two orbs of shadow his way. The old man waved his left hand, a circle of bright glowing light appeared in front of him and as soon as the projectiles made contact, they vaporized up into nothingness.
“I am one of the Archmages of the Great Bastion, Allirus Mialen,” he spoke with power and confidence. “You should have never returned, Ralis Lerin, the Ravager of New Haven!” Just as he had finished that declaration, two other figures garbed in the same robes, sash and bore the same sword at their hips. However there was one new addition that came with each newcomer.
Both carried boxes. Two very large black boxes with silver framing and a latch on the front, connecting the hinged top to the rest of the ornate box. “We were sent here to make sure this city would be safe from the likes of you and we have been studying the destructive magic you left behind, where it surged and became one with you underneath our tower… we now have a chance to study you more closely,” Allirus spoke.
“What do you mean by that?” Ralis asked, glaring sharply towards the three white garbed figures.
“You will be detained!” he shouted, outstretching his arms towards Ralis. That apparently was the signal for his two companions to set the boxes upon the ground, unlocking the latch and opening the top. Inside each box was a glowing bright shackle attached to a chain. His companions grabbed each shackle and held them up.
“Like hell I will!” Ralis growled, sending several tendrils of shadows to strike them out of rage. Allirus moved forward and held his blade high, slashing back and forth, vanquishing every one of Ralis’s attacks.
“Now, sir!” the subordinate on the Archmage’s left yelled out. Allirus nodded in reply and held out his free hand, three tendrils of heavenly light rose from his palm. Two struck downwards, at his left and right. They imbued into the shackles, giving them the same glow of the blades they brandished. The final tendril burst forwards, directly at Ralis. His shadow rose up from behind him and move in between the blast and him.
Unfortunately, the blast broke through his barrier, impacting his chest and sending the shadow manipulator skid a few feet backwards, causing him to stumble. Before Ralis had enough time to react, a constant beam fired against his chest against, pushing him down onto the ground. He lied there in a daze with his eyes shut, the intense power of the light was too powerful, he couldn’t move at all!
He felt something cold, hard, metallic, tight. Two of the same sensations in succession, each clamped down against both of his wrists. “What the-?!” he shouted, his eyes shooting open as he felt the light vanish. The glowing shackles were draining him, he couldn’t summon or control any shadows! The two subordinates yanked the chains and pulled his arms out wide, forcing a scream of pain out of him.
“Take him back to the Bastion… but to make sure this goes smoothly,” Allirus said, moving closer to Ralis and planted his palm harshly against his face. The last thing that he remembered was a massive flash of light. And then nothing but total and complete darkness.
“It’s never actually been tested on a live..” someone murmured softly. Or loudly. There was a bright light, or was it a dull tint. He couldn’t tell right from left. Were his eyes open? Nothing made sense at the moment.
“Doesn’t matter… now we have a subject.. I don’t care what will happen if we use the..” said a familiar voice. He caught bits and pieces of the conversation. It was very difficult just to even use the sense of hearing he was born with.
His eyes slowly flickered open. He was on his knees, his arms were pulled tightly to his left and to his right. There were new shackles now, around his ankles and had been bolted to the white stone floor. He still had all of his weapons and clothing, they didn’t figure any of it would be much use to him in this situation and for now, they were right.
Ralis slowly lifted up his head and opened his eyes all the way. His vision was creamy and blurred for now, he could make out shapes, silhouettes and colors as well as light. He blinked softly again and again and finally, his vision had returned to him completely. He was in a circular and stone room. The stones were each white and they glimmered from the torchlight that illuminated the entire room.
There was a huge ivory door behind the two robed figures which didn’t seem to have a knob, handle, latch or anything. Finally he focused on the two. One had the same beard and voice of Archmage Allirus, so Ralis put the two and two together with his common sense. The other was probably a subordinate. He would have screamed bloody death threats at them but he was far too exhausted, he could barely open his eyes let alone talk.
“We are ready for the ritual there. We will put him into a long state of forced meditation, a dreamless and restless sleep. Then we can study him and the strange, dark powers that reside within him without restraint or fear,” Allirus spoke, unaware of Ralis at the moment.
“Very well sir, I will call forth the other four,” his subordinate nodded. Ralis shut his eyes and passed out again, the shackles draining him still.
The next time Ralis opened his eyes, there were four others in the room, a glowing circle was around his body, the shackles were glowing even more intensely. They were mediating it seemed, their hands pressed against the stone. Allirus held up his blade and stabbed it between the chains, pinning the shackles against the stone which held him even more securely.
“What.. are you doing to me..?” he tried to ask with an angered voice, which only sounded like a quiet whisper.
“We are sending your mind into an alternate state, locking you into extreme submission and mediation.. we haven’t yet tried it on a living human, though it seems to work on animals properly,” he said.
“You bastard.. not if, but when I get out.. of here,” he muttered threateningly and continued. “You are all dead..”
“Now,” Allirus commanded. The other four all held up their hands towards him, followed by Allirus as well. Massive orbs of light mustered between their palms and the floor soon radiated with an ethereal bask. One by one, they each fired a blast at the subdued shadow manipulator. He cried out in extreme pain, his skin felt like it was sizzling and everywhere hurt from head to toe. Then there was nothing.
He never knew how long had past. All he knew that he was alone. Memory by memory began to slip away from him. All he could remember was he was Ralis Lerin. He was strong. He had powers, intense, sweet and oh so great and wonderful dark powers. As well as destructive and cruel powers.
More time passed. Or did it. Maybe it didn’t. He started to feel… different inside. On the outside he thought too. Where was he and why was he there? He started to think differently too. All he had was himself. His thoughts. His twisted, strange and weird thoughts.
His powers… there were so much clearer now! So much more transparent! The rage that blinded him, the revenge that poisoned him, the memories that distracted him were all gone, gone GONE! All he had was the powers now. And he focused on them. That was all he did. All he could do. All there was to do, and he did it. And continued over and over and over and over and over and…over… and…over…
“What..?” he asked, his eyes suddenly shooting open. There was blood all around him, some on his clothing. It was fresh and warm, dripping off his clothes. How long was he in that… state? Then he heard a deathly and grievous, hacking cough. Ralis slowly leaned his head up and saw what looked like Allirus. His beard seemed to have a few more white strands than usual.
He was sitting down, his back propped up against the wall. The stone wall behind him had several cracks in it. Allirus had blood dripping down the corners of his mouth, on his beard and the front of his robe. It was apparent he was suffering from some internal injury, he was coughing up that blood.
“What happened?” Ralis asked, looking back and forth, seeing blood splatters across the room and four other white robed corpses.
“We.. examined too far.. whatever power is within you.. retaliated,” he coughed, another bit of blood spurted from his lips. “We thought we could get more.. so close.. had you there for months..”
“I feel different..” Ralis blinked, staring down. His eyes were no longer a hazel-brown, but an eerie emerald green. His hair wasn’t dark brown either. His strands of hair had been morphed to a snowy white. His skin was ashen and pale, and he at least grew a bit taller it felt like.
“The.. experiments we conducted.. had some adverse affects on your body.. maybe even your mind or your abilities.. we tried everything to dig deeper,” the mage coughed again. Ralis grinned slightly, enjoying this. No one could possibly recognize him now, they don’t have to fear him! Unless he wanted them too! A new slate, new possibilities, new powers!
He looked behind him, seeing the bolted shackles on his ankles. With a mere thought, two razor sharp tendrils whipped at them, cutting the shackle away precisely, then the next. He slowly stood up, his knees buckling and his legs wobbling slightly from the days and weeks of disuse. The same tendrils sliced away his wrist shackles and he stretched out. Almost every bone in his spine, back and shoulders cracked and popped. He brought his hands to both sides of his head and jolted it one way, then the other, cracking his neck. He popped the joints in his elbows and finally cracked his knuckles.
“Perfect..” he said, moving towards the door and bringing up his right leg, stomping his foot against it and kicking it into the opposite wall, aiming to leave. This time… he would leave New Haven intact. They gave him another chance, although by accident and all who knew of his capture were dead. All that thought he was killed still thought the same. He left the tower and made his journey to start over, where? No one knew but him and even he was confused about that but he didn’t care.
"It's a sense of touch. I think we all miss that touch so much, that we crash into each other, just to feel something."