Raevyn Nemo Stormraven

Ambracia...

Once the shimmering jewel of Laikka's western shores...a land known for its magical capacity and stunning gems and jewelry - it was here that a young man not so different from most had come to find himself. But this - young ones - isnt a story about such a normal young man. This...is a story...about nobody...a shadow of a man who might have once existed in the grandest of forms under other circumstances.

Nemo...which roughly translates to 'Nobody' or 'Noone' was a young man whose birth was not held by the most typical of noble constraints. A youth born with the precipice that he would truly and properly by right of lack of title prove to be unremarkable in any way. For Nemo had never known the family which had given birth to the boy who bore the fiendish characteristics of a tiefling. Unwanted for traits born in a bloodline he had no control over it was no surprise in such a dominion that Nemo would find his only and truest escape in books especially those tomes situated in the shelves of the Vivicani.

Often the young man would find himself here reading or in times of tribulation scribing readily from one tome unto another in order to repress the effects of time on the vast works of written scripture. A quiet youth he often had kept to himself amidst the writings - only the faint echoing of the quill on the pages offering a semblance of peace and order to the young man and giving him purpose while year after year drew forward.

Books were home...books were shelter and sanctuary...it was no surprise then that by the light of simple candles - though he needed them not - he often found himself working from the shelves of the vivicani reading anything he could get his hands on and scribing copies of scrolls and tomes where possible. Until a book he had never seen before drew his attention mong the desks of the higher ranking representatives of the Vivicani. Nemo hadnt realized the fact he had even picked it up among others and moved to a table to start to work.

Words were normal to find situated on the patterns of the books and the pages he would come to find before himself. But upon the pages of the book he had opened words started to burn in the form of runes that were not in common - blazing glowing markings spreading upon the page.

"From whence does true power come?" the letters burned out across the the surface of the paper before him causing his eyes to slowly blink reading over the letters which were comforting in some distant part of himself.

"From within..." Nemo heard his voice distantly whisper in response as his hand worked the quill across the book he was working the copy. A book forming as the hand works at the pages of the copy book forming a book that as it turned out Nemo wouldnt even remember having read the contents of the book that were being formed.

"How does one make the greatest good?" the letters then started to burn on another of the pages while his hand continued its work writing out copies of the proper writing from the book and not the glowing words he was taking in as his eyes scanned the pages.

"With everything they are capable of. By any means necessary..." Nemo speaks calmly but softly little more than a whisper as suddenly the words started to pool together on the center of the page an arch of eldritch energy rising up from the book and as he blinked from the light it slammed into his face sending him sprawling backwards.

Skull throbbing he arose sitting up on the library floor...unnoticed...unvalued by those around him in the hours which had passed. Still in the vibrations of his ears he could hear the pulsing undulations of energy which had ripped through his body. It was as he rise from the floor taking up the book from the desk with the book open on the back cover he threw it forward into the fireplace blinking as the pages licked at the pages and they started to smolder away but it was then that he felt it - a weight hanging from the front of his throat.

Bringing both hands forward he gripped at it - the lock coldly metallic in his hands but lacking a proper key hole but instead holding a sigil or rune he could not identify he started to focus on his natural sorcerer capacity intending to attempt to blast the device free from his throat and remove this metal collar. With soft whispers he started to focus his energies intending to draw raw energy from the nothingness.

'No.' a voice distant in form demanded - cold and calculating though it spoke up it caused Nemo to blink as the voice came from no particular place but all places at once. The energy he was drawing suddenly fading from his thoughts and focus like static on the air.

In the years to follow the voices were nothing new nor isolated. There were often voices speaking out to him or with him though he could typically not identify as there was a balance forming between two paths of magic as he developed his understanding of magic and continued his work for the Vivicani.

Without family...without friends...there was always the books...but stories of the Burning Phoenix guild and books of heroes of the past were starting to coallesce into ideas he could add more to his workload - though the more he saw of some of the measures of the guild the more concerned he was becoming as word was rising of threats and scandal spawning among them.