Editing Shattered Lands (section)

====James====

[[File:Mahazz.jpg]]

A Wizard bent on revenge and awesomeness. (Controller)

[[Mahzz Drayzen]]

'''Personality'''
Mahzz is distrustful of those around him, having grown up within the close groupings of a nomadic tribe. He became distant and somewhat single-track minded after raiders razed the only life he had known. He speaks guardedly, and only when he feels when something needs to be said. However, he is very emotional and passionate, so when he speaks, he's generally heard. He also thinks he's an elf, though a little funny looking, knowning nothing of the people of which his parents once belonged. The wizard is young and has a strong but naive sense of doing the right thing.

'''Description:'''

Pretty average height and build. 5'8" at 150 Lbs. Hair is a dusty greyed color, wavy, but cut short not-quite-shoulder-length, and unkempt/uncombed. His eyes are a Hazel color, sometimes changing slightly with his mood. He wears a long jacket with a hood, baggy pants, and a thin shirt with a deep-cut neckline, and knee-high boots of hide and scale. His clothes are tattered and worn, the colors long faded from the constant travel through the sands of the desert. He wears no jewelry. He does have a satchel for carrying water and other supplies. He wears a longsword on his left hip, and always has his wand with him usually tucked i his belt if not in hand.
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'''Backstory:'''

Mahzz was born, and raised in a nomad tribe. His parents were poor herdsmen, occasionally negotiating trade with other tribes. They were not originally part of the tribe, but exiles who had found a new home. He was brought up thinking he was just another elf, albeit a bit different looking. His ability was discovered as what the villagers thought was sun-sickness turned out to be the manifestation of his power. Several livestock died mysteriously overnight as a result, and the next day, a charred spot of earth remained where Mahzz had collapsed from the apparent sickness. Nothing ever grew there.

Against his parents wishes, the tribe elder took Mahzz in to train him to control his power, and to protect him from the rest of the tribe. He had trained for several years in secret, only leaving to go on hunts with other tribesmen, also learning the locations of other tribes that were traded with. Mahzz still could not fully control his power, and still plants and soil blackened whenever he trained, though the elder was trying to guide him to the path of preservation. 

One day, a group of raiders razed the village, and hauled the survivors off in chains.  Mahzz had been out in the wastes hunting, and returned only to find ashes, the bodies of the fallen, his teacher and mentor displayed as a trophy, his parents carrion for the vermin, and a mark left behind by the raider. From that point, Mahzz had been wandering from tribe to tribe, trying to find those who ravaged his people, wishing to seek revenge.  Most recent rumors indicate the raiders themselves were attacked, and the group was hauled to Draj. Some say to fight in the arena, others said one of the wizards needed new specimens. Mahzz hoped it was the former, and so went and sought a way to get to Draj, hoping to find the murderes there.

Mahzz eventually went with a caravan headed to some areas near the great city-state. However in the late afternoon, a horrible sand storm swept through, separating Mahzz from the caravan, and strewing debris and cargo everywhere. Mahzz was blown against a rock, and blacked out momentarily. When he awoke, the caravan was gone.

Mahzz rose from the ground, coughing up dust and sneezing as the grit settles in his nose. He shook his head, trying right his senses and shake the excess sand from his hair. He looked around at the waste left by the storm. The caravan long lost, and no tracks to be found, Mahzz surveyed the scene hoping to find any remnants to help him on.

Then, remembering, he hurriedly searched his clothes, patting himself down, searching for that ever-important scrap of parchment. His heart sank, and he felt his blood drain, he couldn't find it. Mahzz searched through the dust, scraping sand, fingers starting to bleed at his zealous, frantic, hopeless search for that last bit of hope.

Muttering to himself, "Damn the raiders, Damn the god-kings, damn this whole blasted world!" Mahzz lets his rage build, letting power fill him. The land near him blackened, feeding his power. Finally, in frustration, the young wizard cursed and shrieked to the sky, and expelled his power, sending an energy bolt into the dunes, blasting sand, and generally making a further mess of things.

Breathless, the young wizard dropped to his knees, his rage expended. He saw movement out the corner of his eyes. He coughed once in the newly dust filled air, and scrambled over to a small scrap of parchment unearthed in the blast: A scrap of parchment with the sigil of a raider group. The raiders that Mahzz so hungered to wreak vengeance upon.

Mahzz gingerly tucked the scrap into his robes and slowly rose to his feet again, still a little shaken from the careless and emotional release of power. With a quirky half-grin on his face, he started off, one foot in front of the other. His legs drove him onward, the will of his tribe drove him onward. The suns hung low in the sky as he lumbered onward in the last direction he felt the caravan went. The air stirred, and the dust cleared. Looming on the horizon, silhouetted against the dusk sky was a city. Draj.


Mahzz spent a full month in the city, resorting to stealth and thievery to survive, keeping his other abilities out of sight. He still could not control his powers enough to prevent draining energy from the environment around him. The elder had been trying to teach him how to preserve the life forces, but the lectures had not sunken in. Rumors of new participants of the arena depicting the marks of the raiders had coerced Mahzz to allow himself to get caught stealing. He put up a fight, hoping to convince the guards to toss him in the arena. He used a dagger he filched, and managed to slash one of the guards ears. The guard backpeddled, ear useless, dazed from the attack. The other guard threw a sack over Mahzz's head, but not before taking a few cuts himself. They knocked Mahzz out, tossed him in chains, and started to haul him off. A passing merchant noted the feisty, combative thief and suggested letting him get it beat out of him in the arena. The guards looked at each other, and took the bagged miscreant to the arena.

Mahzz was tossed in a cell along with several other unsavory looking characters. His sack is still tied over his head, cursing in elven, muffled by the bag, wondering why he thought that was a good idea.
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