Drax'zanar was born in the deep caves that snake beneath the surface of Britannia. Some would call his race dark elves and others call them Drow. Growing up as a male in a matriarchal society took its toll on Drax'zanar. Constantly, the stronger females would harass him for being a puny weakling. One day, he decided it was time to fight back but he knew that direct conflict would only lead to his own death. Instead, he took on a life of subterfuge, learning the ways of hiding behind obstacles and moving about without detection. His training was coming on very nicely but something was missing from his reportoire.

This is when he discovered uses of certain plants and mosses in the caves to work to his advantage. He found that some varieties of mushrooms when eaten would cause pain as well as a purplish vinelike flower known across Britannia as nightshade. What if he could use this to his advantage? He began practicing with daggers, in full secrecy. But he decided that the best way to use his ability to hide the best would be to strike from range. At this point he decided to learn the use of the bow.

Drax'zanar was never a brilliant man but he was able to figure out how to distill poison from the plants and place this on his arrows. It was very crude but he felt he was ready to take a stand against his female oppressors. What better way would there be to do this than to slaughter the leader of his tribe? The very thought of it brought a crooked smile to his lips.

Drax'zanar hid away his bow and some poison tipped arrows and waited for a good opportunity to strike. The thought crossed his mind that it should be done in front of everyone. Then they would know that Drax'zanar is stronger than their leader. Another crooked smile crossed his lips.

At the next tribal meeting, he felt this was a good chance to pull off his plan. The chief was calling together the tribe when Drax'zanar slipped off through the caves to retrieve his bow. When he returned, he could see her clearly in the dark, standing there barking orders to the tribe with her throat clearly visible. "I should aim for the throat" he thought, and yet another crooked smile crossed his lips. He very carefully took aim and fired the shot. It missed. At this point, the tribe was in an uproar but Drax'zanar knew he had the chance to fire one more arrow first... just one more. He quickly aimed and fired again. Another miss. His leader had now dropped to the ground and was barking out orders to find out who was trying to murder her.

Drax'zanar had no choice, he decided it was time to leave. He began setting out towards the surface but he had never learned where the exits were. He wandered for days, knowing full well that he was being hunted, just as a prey does when his predator is near. Eventually, he was captured and beaten senseless.

When he awoke, he was under guard and one of them called out that he had awaken. A few minutes later, the chief came with a scowl on her face. Drax'zanar wasn't sure what she was thinking but it looked plainly obvious that something very bad was going to happen to him.

"Drax'zanar", she said, "you are hereby banished from our tribe and a curse shall be placed upon you that will surely kill you within the month."

Drax'zanar was right, something very bad was going to happen to him. He could only hope that this curse could somehow be removed before it killed him. While bound and gagged, the tribe's shaman performed a ritual upon him that was most certainly the curse. When it was over, Drax'zanar felt a burning sensation in his lungs and coughed uncontrollably. "This is a nasty curse after all", he thought, but already his mind was in motion thinking of how he might get out of this. After the ritual, he was dragged up towards the surface. From a distance, the entrance to the surface looked like an agonizing pinpoint of light. The light seemed to pierce his eyes and skull until he shut his eyes. But, he was also curious so he forced them open again. The pinpoint of light got larger and larger until he was finally outside. His former tormentors shoved him out of the cave with a hard kick to the back and Drax'zanar spasmed with pain. "So, this is where I live now, isn't this nice", he thought as the sun felt like fire on his skin.

As another wave of coughing overcame him he began thinking of ways to have his curse lifted. When he was about to faint from lack of breathing it was then that he had a vision.

"A predicamennnnt you areeee innnn", the vision said.

"You could say that again", Drax'zanar thought but it was as though the vision heard him.

"Afflicted you a cursssse hassss. Buttt yourrr mortal flessssh only willl it conssssume. A ssssolution I haveeee forrr youuuu. Seek outtt my followersss you shalll and immortality yourssss willl beeeee."

"That does sound like a good option right about now. Where can I find your followers?", Drax'zanar thought, still coughing.

"Finddd themmm on Ice Island you ssshallll. Becommmee a followerrr of the Guardiann and immortalityy shalll be yourssss", the vision said.

After the vision faded, Drax'zanar finally fell unconcious from the coughing. But, when he awoke he felt better, as though the vision gave him new strength to seek out his followers.