Welcome to Gaia! ::

He was tired, hungry, yet he had never felt so alive. Fresh off his first kill and subsequent escape, young Skirana entered the altar. Vanishing the extra clothes and supplies he had "liberated" from his late owner, he stood wearing a pair of leather pants, and moccasins, his opal pendant hanging from his neck. Eyes burning with the joy of battle, he called in the hunting knife and made a small cut across his chest. He spread his wings, his blood dripping from his chest to his pendant to the altar. With all the blood-lust of generations of Eyrien warrior coursing through him, he dove to the absolute depths of his power. He hung there for a moment, an unspoken challenge to the Darkness, then, with a battle-cry, rose from the Abyss.