"It" awoke to pain. Pounding, Fire, chanting, the ebb and flow of magic. "It" was forged. Given power, tasked with destruction. And learned to enjoy it.

"Wrath" was born...

Kingdoms rose, kingdoms fell.
Ruined lives, destoryed bodies, taken spirits.

"Wrath" was there...

Wielded by those seeking the power promised by the silent whispers of a sentient being who's only goal was consuming the light from the world around it.

Then came the time of darkness...a time when Elf fought Elf. "Wrath" knew untold pleasures being weilded in the pursuit of Elven blood. But...

The elves who became known as the drow were defeated and "Wrath" was driven to the depths with them.

Time passed. "Wrath" learned cunning, and achieved even greater pleasures using the Drow and being used by the Drow, reeking endless havoc on the chaos strewn underworld of the Spider Queen.

Time passed.

The pleasures of the drow waned as "Wrath" hungered to reach the surface to spread his particular brand of destruction. So it came to pass that a group of the drow found a new "leader" to follow and rose to the surface to once more claim vengence upon their distant cousins.

and "Wrath" rose with them.

He grew tired of the endless skirmishes. His current wielder was a mundane and slow thing, who's only claim to the sword was a poison dart from a high perch aimed at the previous weilder.

Proving his mundane sense, the thing had the audacity to anger the drow surface contact, a truly cunning and twisted being who's goals laid in line with his own. And so "Wrath" abandoned the wielder in it's time of need and the evil mistress struck the wielder down.

Once again the fates intervened and "Wrath" found a truly worthy wielder. A wounded and hurting elf, who's own sense of justice could easily be turned into a sense of wrath and revenge with a few subtle twists. "Wrath" struck a deal with the mistress, knowing she had not the strength to wield him...

"Wrath" joined the elven warrior. In the elf's weakened state, "Wrath" found it easy to manipulate his mind taking bits and pieces from the warrior's own conscience, disguising itself and the events that brought "Wrath" to him. Already it began the whispers of the great "justice" the two would bring to the world...and the promise of vengence upon the one the elfling called Khellenduras.

So it came to pass that Q'wellen Athori, Bladesinger and Defender of the Glade, managed to "escape" the clutches of Ivy Shadowfare, who found and "healed" him after his defeat at the hands of Khellenduras, using the black metal Scimitar he "found" to fight his way free...