On Golden Wings
Spyros Vladimir, name forsaken to Oblivion… AGAIN!
Born in creation as the child of a Twilight Solar mother by a Daybreak Abyssal father on the height of the third day of Calibration. Raised in Stygia within the Underworld for most of his formative years.
Escapee from the land of dark stars. Self made man of wealth. Lover of women and fine things. Expert of Sorcery, Necromancy, and crafts of many kinds.
A perfect and obvious choice for Exaltation.
And so it happened… When one of his closest friends wracked his neck into snapping from his Grand Orichalcum Daiklave of Conquest. Badger was striking for the Fire Blood that had been hunting them but she moved in a way that redirected the shot at Spyros. Suspended between life and death he watched the approach of a Deathlord interrupt the arrival of a Solar Essence. They spoke and Spyros made his choice. He chose to take everything he could from Oblivion and take it back fro Creation. To use everything he could scrape, salvage, and steal to put it against the land he hated so strongly. He was a man that was going to even take that Essence back to the Unconquered Sun without getting himself killed. A man who was the holder of an Abyssal Exaltation that was brought back to shine the light of the Sun…
But that was all another place and another time.
He’s here in this Creation within this very different version of what he would view as a past for his new “now”. His power seems stripped, all of his gear and creations gone, and not even his clothes left to him. Bearing the stains of one that has given his name to Oblivion on his skin, on his Essence, and even his soul. All he got for the trip was an IOU from Amar