Sea of Falling Stars
Justice speaks for itself.
Like any other living Deva, Myron had lived many lives, more than he could possibly remember. He is shaped by the fragments of memories from past lives and uses these to better himself. He remembers traveling from island to island, learning all he can and embracing various cultures. The names of these islands and cities have long since been forgotten; not due to any cataclysmic events, but simply the passage of time. In the grand scheme, time has little meaning and entire lives are spent learning the arcane.
That all changed with his previous rebirth. His previous life was strangely clear in his mind. Memories of life with a group of wizards stayed strong in his mind. After traveling for so long, he had found a place of peace where he could study the arcane arts with men who were willing to share such knowledge. A being of an angelic nature, Myron was already quite comfortable with magic. But here, among friends, he honed his skills further than ever. One wizard stood out in his mind: Elka, one of the leaders of the group, and his personal mentor. Hours would be spent each day reading, practicing, and discussing the wonders of the world. Elka had a keen interest in the Sea of Falling Stars and often claimed to have an understanding of its nature. Myron had no interest in this at the time and was content with simply studying magic.
However, this happiness was short lived, as it often is. His last memories of that life were of the demons. They attacked quickly, brutally, and in such great numbers. It had seemed like random slaughter at first. Then, Myron noticed a much larger creature at the center of the horde. This creature towered above its demon brethren. Its wings easily massive enough to cast a shade over a dozen lesser demons, had the sun been out. The wizards fought bravely to no avail. Myron survived just longer enough to see Elka fall at the hands of the largest of the demons, before succumbing to death himself.
Myron’s rebirth was rather quick. Normally, he would be born isolated from any living soul; perhaps in a forest or pond. Understandably, the presence of a priest nearby was startling. Covered in an unusually dark robe and a hood which covered most face, the priest identified himself as a worshiper of Bahamut, the god of Justice. Myron could make out a small, scaly patch of skin beneath the hood and a silver amulet which shone bright against the darkness of the robes. The priest claimed that Bahamut sought justice for the slaughter of the wizards. Seeing an opportunity to punish those who destroyed his previous life, Myron set forth to find those responsible and to punish any demons unfortunate enough to get in his path.