ANTI-MAGE
SLASHES HIS FOES WITH MANA-DRAINING ATTACKS

Magina, the Anti-Mage, is a human, and as the name suggests, is set out to end all magic. His hate for anything unnatural and associated with the arcane arts, stems from when he in his youth witnessed the slaughter brought on by the dead gods legion.

Anti-Mage was a pilgrim who had been an acolyte at the montain monastery of turstarkuri, where he had served the meditating monks tea. So dedicated were they to their meditation, that they didnt budge as the undead army invaded the lower kingdoms. The few who did stop to open their eyes, ignored the assault, since they thought they were just hallucinating.

Magina watched as they were all slewn where they sat, and then rose again to the dirgesong as new members of the dead gods army. Anti-mage was the only survivor, and escaped with only a few scrolls and a burning hatred for the dead god and all magic users. He still has haunting visions of the monks, because of his shame that he was the single survivor. He vowed to not rest until magic users were all obliterated, and thus the anti-mage was born.

The monks of Turstarkuri watched the rugged valleys below their mountain monastery as wave after wave of invaders swept through the lower kingdoms. Ascetic and pragmatic, in their remote monastic eyrie they remained aloof from mundane strife, wrapped in meditation that knew no gods or elements of magic. Then came the Legion of the Dead God, crusaders with a sinister mandate to replace all local worship with their Unliving Lord's poisonous nihilosophy.

From a landscape that had known nothing but blood and battle for a thousand years, they tore the souls and bones of countless fallen legions and pitched them against Turstarkuri. The monastery stood scarcely a fortnight against the assault, and the few monks who bothered to surface from their meditations believed the invaders were but demonic visions sent to distract them from meditation.

"cornering him is a challenge for any foe"

They died where they sat on their silken cushions. Only one youth survived--a pilgrim who had come as an acolyte, seeking wisdom, but had yet to be admitted to the monastery. He watched in horror as the monks to whom he had served tea and nettles were first slaughtered, then raised to join the ranks of the Dead God's priesthood. With nothing but a few of Turstarkuri's prized dogmatic scrolls, he crept away to the comparative safety of other lands, swearing to obliterate not only the Dead God's magic users--but to put an end to magic altogether.