(decided to rant on a bit about Ricewynds backstory here so I don't have to later on.)<br/><br/>Ricewynd awoke.<br/>The pain<br/>He was tied down to a chair, this was an unimportant detail. His wings exploded outwards, he screamed in terror. His bindings broke and the chair flew across the room where it smashed against an opposing wall.<br/>he was down on all fours clawing at the cursed thing bolted around his neck.<br/>Minitues passed, sheer exhaustion forced him to stop, he lay on his back breathing heavily staring up at the ceiling (which due to events in the storyline shall remain undetailed at this current time).<br/>His conscious floated in, today it took the appearence of a large brain wearing a top hat, it spoke with a british accent (as all Consciounces should) "<span style="font-style: italic">well, looks like you've got yourself in a bit of a pickle here eh?</span>".<br/>Ricewynd glanced casuasly at the illusion, "go away" he said flatly. "<span style="font-style: italic">suit yerself</span>" it merrily replied and floated back out of existance.<br/>He placed his hands over his head, feeling the start of a headache. Then he pulled them back and looked at his hands, he looked at them again. he stood up and looked down at himself, he was about 7ft tall, wore a pair of dark green jeans which had been torn and a smart black shirt, there was a small cross around his neck, he rubbed it, happy to know it was still there. He started down at his clawed feet, then at his hands. He had dark grey skin, but that wasn't right.<br/>Years ago he had been a deamon, a slave at the hands of Satans will, then he had been given a choice, to join the light or to be banished from existance, he chose light.<br/>The light had burned him, scared his flesh, tearing back years of suffering bearing his sins open for all to see. The burning of hell had turned his skin balck with ash, it was borken and craggy like a gorge flowing with magma, his chains, no metal, but pure lava burned under his skin and forced to flow through his veins.<br/>When he was mortal he had always cared about his looks, forever hidious was his punishment in the afterlife.<br/><br/>After repenting it had been explained that regular mortals only saw what they wanted to see, and Ricewynd would appear more suitable to their tastes through their eyes.<br/><br/>And that's what was wrong, Ricewynd was looking at himself through mortal eyes for the first time. Dark grey skin, cat-like eyes, long black hair, clawed feet, bats wings and a speared tail. He tugged at the cursed ring around his neck, clearly it was the cause of this, he felt sickned, liked a tamed animal. Despite this, he was itching to find a mirror.<br/>Folding back his wings, he stood up and began looking around this new enviroment.