Cazador, an elder Casmon, was once considered by the wizards one of the most beautiful creatures in the world. He was 12 feet tall, had flowing snow-white hair that stretched down his back between his eagle-like wings, emerald green eyes that sparkled in the slightest light, and layers of thick well-developed muscles.
The wizards believed he would be a strong ally and an asset to their brewing crusade to vanquish the human peasants. Nevertheless, they did not know that Cazador was not only a great protector, but he belonged to the Ground Stalker tribe of hunters. They provided food for the Wind Children and encountered humans daily as they searched for food. To Cazador, humans only wished to survive; like his people.
When the wizards decided to carry out their plight, Cazador searched every recess of his heart and could not find a single reason to destroy the humans. They had done nothing.
Cazador decided to stand up for the peasants, which turned out to be valiant but most of all a costly decision.
First the wizards poisoned him to ensure he could not fight them back. Then they cast an evil torture spell over him.
Cazador sat in his prison at the bottom of the lake known in the wizards tongue as Black-Death surrounded by the demons that plagued his mind. When suddenly over their screaming he heard a huge splash.
After forcefully blocking out the demons, he lifted his head toward the surface, and opened his eyes that are no longer emerald green, but opaque to match his cloudy thoughts.
His skin had now darkened to match his murky surroundings, his hair was no longer white but black and matted like intertwined snakes, and his beautiful wings had shed their vibrant feathers.
In his heart Cazador felt something he has not experienced in centuries: the energy of other Ground Stalkers on the hunt. He stood and forced his face to do something it had not done in a long time, smile.
The smile instantly morphed into a grin and revenge encompasses his heart.
“I knew they would come for me.”
Thanks for your time,