Act I : The Fallen
Through abominable and forsaken skies, I fell.
My wings failing to engage flight as the air around my falling body was of some alien gravitational matter. The impact was surprisingly soft and my bones did not shatter as I would have expected. This brief relaxation allowed me to stand up and examine my surroundings, still not realizing what had happened. My eyes were adjusting to the low lighting as, apparently, no sun was present at this dreadful place. Red ominous clouds, surrounded by negative electric reactions, were scattered across the skies. A thick fog was present all around me, choking the air that my lungs were trying to sustain.
Through denial, fear and irony I understood where I was. "The Demon Realm. The place that I sacrificed so much to keep sealed. The prison of our adversaries. Was this my destiny's end? To be exiled to the one place I once send them?"
Despair was the most reasonable outcome of this tragedy, and yet I still had the obligation of attempting to find a way out of this madness. I spread my wings open and tried to fly. It worked as long as I stayed at low height.
Flying at the fastest speed my potential allowed me, I scanned the dead lands for anything of interest. A vast wasteland with tall blackened mountains repeated itself over and over again across this secluded plane of existence. Infertile ground, cancerous atmosphere, a place worthy of the word "hell". All I could do was inspect and hope for a way out. But what chance did I have, alone as I was? What chances did a tired old man have when a whole race was unable to escape this place.
I continued the process of inspecting the land for what seamed like hours until, at long last, I could make out two tall figures in the distance. Exiles like me, were they? Or dangerous spawn of this hellish realm?
As I approached, I made out their features: Dark skin, enormous built, fangs and horns throughout their bodies. Yes, it was then I realized that a new way of life had been introduced to my existence. Survival.