The Throne Room

Now that you have a moment you check yourself out.

You find a silver tray on the table and decide to use it as a makeshift mirror.

You have sharp, angular features. Your ears tall and pointed, much like an elf. A mane of fiery red hair roughly flows down your back. Two backwards facing horns onyx black with red tips. And a set of golden eyes that seemed to shimmer.

Throwing down the tray you take a look at your body. You are slim, with good muscle definition. Standing roughly 7 feet tall. Your arms and legs covered in tough, black scales. You notice that on your hands and feet are large claws and between your legs a large, muscular tail, with what looked like a scythe on the end. On your back a great set of the most beautiful wings you had ever seen (The only wings you had ever seen), much like your horns they were onyx black, with red tips. But between the scales, you see the shimmer of the same gold that is in your eyes.

You get a feel for your body stretching out your new muscles, seeing what they could do. You slash your claws through the air making a satisfying 'whoosh' of air.

You test your speed by sprinting from one side of the room to the other. It was over in a heartbeat.

"Hmph, how boring."

Fighting close combat did not interest you. It was for brutes and morons. You were different. You don't know why, you don't know how, but you do know. You are special.

You ponder your situation and what you should do. Sitting on the dark lord's throne you begin to meditate. Visions fill your head, the knowledge you had not yet acquired is already there. You wonder how it is that you know so much after only just being born.

As you fall deeper into your meditation you start to feel something. A tingling sensation over your scales. You didn't notice before.

Magika.