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In the beginning, we were dark elves. We weaved our magic through all the shadows of Gaia. We were common, not of royal making. But we were not without an air of pride and arrogance. Such is the folly of all living creatures. And so we quested, searched high and nigh for that spark that would grant us power. A wish. A splendid energy. An energy we found amongst the leafy greens of an eternal moonlit garden. 'Twas a simple pendant, made in such a complex manner that it seemed to bend the space within itself. And when we held it we felt a power surge. We made our request, our request was denied. In place of royalty, of power, we gained entrance. The moon opened its mouth, we were engulfed in darkness and the cold claws of death. We sank beneath the stars, to a place both vulgar and immaculate. Hell had greeted us and we were changed. No longer commoners, but prisoners within the torturous veins of the underworld. We wer plagued by a thousand frigid nightmares, each worse than the last. Fear gripped us tight, and pulled us apart limb from limb. We were scattered. And for millennia we suffered. Then, from a clearing in our maimed consciousness we saw a faint light. The light spoke, its voice heavy and whispery. It said 'what wouldst thou do,' And we knew what it meant. We would hurt, kill, devour. We would laugh at the misery of others. We would grant destruction to destroyers, misfortune to the unfortunate, the means to commit crimes to the criminals. All that we would do, so release us. And the light laughed, a laugh like the chorus of mutilated angels. We were released, we were told 'Grant wishes to the weak-willed, the faithless. Grant them their desires, for they shall surely see my light. The price is yours to decide. And so we were freed, and we found our power, our power, our rank. A general to lead the armies of disheartened humans to their grave, their nightmare. We would give few happiness and many self-annihilation, an abhorrent sin.