Universus, the future of The city of Danelagh and its safety, the hope of a crumbling, damaged nation. But behind the veils of chaos and despair, avarice and the gluttony of the rich, reside those who could only hope. A parent's spirit and body was too weary to sustain their children any longer, and the children were very often left orphaned.  Yet they prayed, hoped that someone will hold out a hand and pull them out from their misery. Notwithstanding  East Saxia's fall to Tiberia, the rise of illegal markets across the lands and the use of Black Magic to achieve one's dirty deeds, many men were still armored with expectation and the desire to just believe; to have hope that Universus will bring things back to normal, once again.<br/><br/>Picking up a small stick coated in an ashen-like substance, Ashmedai applied the khol to the inner of his eyes and then dipped two digits into a green dye container. He traced two bold diagonal lines across his left eye, beginning from the top left side of the forehead and across the left eye to the left side of his cheek. He dipped one other digit into the dye and traced a third one beginning from the inner corner of his left eye, ending it with a curvy tip above the cheekbone.<br/><br/><a class="postlink" href="http://i61.tinypic.com/w2ktc0.jpg"><span style="color: #80BFBF">The brownish-green attire on his bed</span></a>was modest but with a barbarian touch of his native home - like the fur which hanged from the right side of his cloak, or the<a class="postlink" href="http://i57.tinypic.com/2eogt9h.jpg"><span style="color: #80BFBF">necklace</span></a>that adorned his neck which he crafted off the tusks of a herbivorous mammal called the Mastodon, about 307 years ago - Earthly realm. Even after six years of living under the flag of East Saxia, Ashmedai carried pride in his heritage and kept his identity a secret to himself, adjusting his lifestyle to Danelagh's. People were smart enough to notice that he was not of theirs, but an outsider, but they were simply not aware of how much of an outsider he was to their world.<br/><br/><br/>In a realm far far away, exists a race that once believed that evil was non-existent in their nation. They called themselves the Aryan race. No illness, hunger or thirst was known to them; children or elders. They have lived longer lives but they were not as advanced technologically like in the realm where the people of Tiberia or East Saxia hailed from. Compared to these two aforementioned nations who are currently living in their Iron Age, the world in which these Aryans lived is as we speak, fighting the Late Glacial Maximum era.<br/><br/>Many of these Aryans co-habitated with other races and have found shelter in the 'Garden of Eden', a place in their world which remained habitable during the devastating Ice Age. They were hunter-gatherers and lived in scattered tribes foraged and hunted, without domesticating plants or raising animals for food, and as such were generally nomadic, organized in bands of about 25 people and tribal groups of about 20 bands. Later on as they survived the Ice Age, agriculture encouraged permanent settlements and so a group of these Aryans migrated to a region called the Persian Gulf. There they began to live and survive the late Ice Age as a community. Their lives were governed by the harvest instead of the herd, and cultivated land sustained much denser populations than wild land.<br/><br/>After years of living in harmony, a woman was found murdered, veins emptied of blood. The tribe charged Ashmedai and surmised he was at fault in crime, condemning him to exile. And so he was expelled from the tribe and all ties were cut. But his Creator's lands were wide and majestic, and his love was rich in mercy; Ashmedai was given a deal.<span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-style: italic">“I will now send you on a journey, a journey which will take you to a realm unknown to mankind. You will be faced with a challenge unlike anything you have lived. The Seven Deadly Sins. Never again will there be tears; never again will you feel alone. If you succeed in your journey, I shall cleanse your tainted blood, purify your soul. O'Nephilim, I shall raise you to heaven, rejoice over you with everlasting gladness and quiet you by my love; I will exult over you with riches of knowledge and the most honourable of ranks. You go now, Asmodeus”</span></span><br/><br/><br/>__________________________________________<br/><br/><br/>Stepping outside of his modest habitat deep in the woods, Ashmodei tucked his long golden hair back and pulled the hood of his cloak over his head. He whispered a prayer on this glorious day, and cut trough the wilderness, heading towards the Loweman Mille. His Creator set him on a new task, to face a Sin he had yet to fight.<br/><br/>His class was of a ranger and scout combined. At times he would work alone, and at times prefers the company of large groups. The spear and bow were his main weapons, the sword and knife his secondary. Upon arrival, he scanned the area and noted that nobody awaited him at the entrance of the mill. The blue-eyed beholder pulled down the black cloth which covered half of his face, and ventured into the mill on this promising journey. After a short while, he found himself standing before a familiar face; a fearless face reflecting bravery, valor and honor. He had cut the man short, who was making his way to the front of the sawmill to find a way onto the roof.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">"Good morrow, my goodman. You must be Eirik?"</span>Ashmodei bowed his head and his smile was short yet it offered the man a sufficient volume of warmth. The humble tone in his voice held a slight concern.