Welcome to ChaoticAbyss

Muristias Ashalen was originally thought of as an eager and capable young student of the Order of the Four Winds.  He had quick fists and a quick mind and many thought of him as one of the most promising students the monastery had seen in a long time.  When not studying martial arts he would be found in the library, reading ancient texts that lay untouched by all but the most devout scholars of the order.  It was not long until Muristias began to request being allowed to take the trials and become a true monk of the order.  With some discrepancy his requests were twice refused.  Many of the elders believed that while his body had developed amazing strength, his soul still needed some time.  After his second refusal, knowing that a third refusal would result in never being allowed to take the trials, he wandered to a small pond in the center of the monastery garden in hopes to quell his anger and ponder at why he had been refused again as well as the secrets and power being kept from him because he was still a student.  He spent three days and three nights in meditation by the pond, partially in hopes that they would see that he had patience and in fact was dedicated, but mostly because he could not seem to lessen his anger.  On the third night a cold wind blew down from the mountains, unusual for this late in spring and not the stars or the moon could show through the heavy overcast that clouded the night sky.  Despite being deep in trance Muristias shivered and then he head the whispers of movement that was not his own.  Whatever had approached had done so in complete silence and had Muristias not been trained in listening to all of his senses he would not have known the other presence was there.  He opened his eyes to see a slim figure on the other side of the small pond no smaller than a boy.  But what stood across from him was no child.  Eyes quickly adjusting to the darkness Muristias saw what looked like a Halfling (though he had never truly seen one before) wearing a black cloak with the hood turned back, revealing long black hair tied in a ponytail and eyes that seemed alert and full of intelligence yet almost sad as well.  Standing, unsure the intentions of this small creature, (though hearing they were usually benevolent in nature, Muristias nearly fell into the pond.  He could see right through this creature!  Surely it was a ghost.  He shivered again but this time not because of the cold.  The Halfling merely watched him for a minute or so and then spoke in a voice that was a mere whisper, but it seemed to emit itself from the shadows instead of the Halfling’s mouth.  “The power you seek can no longer be found here.”  It pulled out a small crystal orb from within its cloak.  Suddenly, without and warning, the orb pulsated a white light, blinding, leaving dark spots before his eyes, and then he fell to his knees and screamed in pain.  He watched as colors swirled out of his body being pulled toward that hideous orb.  He could feel his heart stopping, his blood turning to ice in his veins.  Faster and faster the colors poured out of him and number and number to the pain he became.  As the last of the colors enveloped the crystal, turning it from bright white to black he took the last breath he would take.  He blinked and the Halfling and the orb were gone.  He no longer felt the cold, and his vision was as good as if the moon were full, though he knew it was still hidden behind the clouds.  Right before dawn he made his third request to take the trials.  He was refused, but part of him was somehow hoping as such.  When he left the Temple of the Four Winds at noon, he left none alive.