MW: Here you go, everyone. The first chapter of DASR Revised, featuring Talon and Hunter in Rage's Descent. DASR Revised will be like the first DASR, a bunch of stories containing characters that connect one way or another, which will then lead up to each character meeting simultaneously. As a bonus, I'll give you the choice to decide where the road leads for each character, duo, trio or quartet. Next chapter will feature the members of Di KNight's Team Immortal. Thanks for reading. ENJOY AND PLEASE REVIEW.

Make sure you tell me where you want to road to lead for these characters.

Bold Italics are Thalomir talking. Italics are spell named chanted in minds, or names of important places or emphasized words.

1 – Rage's Descent

Dark skin glistened brightly in the moonlight, the sheen of sweat coating flesh visible, every drop, every salt molecule residing in each bead that rolled down the thirteen year old's body discernible from at least fifty meters away. He gripped a massive pole arm with both hands, the silver and black plating that ran along the hilt seeming to comfort him as he crept softly along the fields, bright lights of the station reflected in his retinas, vibrant crimson eyes scrutinizing every object that the prestigious and prosperous Marleybonian carried, human or not. All the Marleybonians in the station were usually prosperous. Rich. People he could steal from.

He couldn't stop the smirk from playing across his face.

Night was nigh.

Talon Bloodbane's leather boots padded softly against the flexible grass as he crept along the field, trampling flowers carelessly, spinning the axe in his hand, moonlight bouncing extravagantly off of the golden crescent blades that adorned the head of the staff-like part of the pole arm. Talon inhaled again, exhaling incoherently.

He didn't know why he resorted to stealing. He forgot why. Maybe to free himself from the chaotic clutches of life and throw himself into darkness and danger. To be honest, he never put much thought to it. And he'd never actually use the axe to hurt anyone. It was just…to scare them. Right. Talon inhaled again, pressing his sophisticated mind into focus. His eyes narrowed and his gaze sharpened as he neared the station. He slid the axe-a family heirloom-into a belt-like strap on his back, and bent his knees in preparation.

Now.

A commanding voice echoed throughout his skull, prompting Talon to run. The boy's feet exploded with force, and he dashed forwards, dropping into a low crouch and rolling between unsuspecting legs, left hand reaching up and snatching bags from hands, slowing temporarily for the occasional bag with a strap on it. It was an easy gig—most Marleybonians were used to seeing pompous wizards stroll through the entire world with weapons strapped to their backs, waists, or calves. In truth, he didn't have to run; Marleybonians were just as unsuspecting—but it made the job risker and heart-pounding. Talon basked in the feel of adventure.

He paused his run as he reached the field on the other end of the station, and dropped into a roll, vaulting forward awkwardly—he wasn't an acrobat, mind you—missing his pivot and tumbling to the grass, his finds spilling from his arms. He rose to his feet; despite stumbling a few times with a slight groan, rubbing his head gingerly. He ran a cautious eye over his items of that night. At least one thousand gold coins, a ragged-looking dagger coated with an unnatural sheen of silvery-white flame—magic, probably—and some beauty-obsessed female cosmetics. Also probably magic. He sighed as he slid the items into a bag coated in fraying fabric.

Well, at least the gold and the dagger were worth it. He'd saved up enough gold for him to run away with his twelve year old brother, Hunter. His motive wasn't to be questioned. Ever since his father was slain presumably valiantly in the Second Great Wizard War, his mother was left to wallow in depression, grief and emotional darkness for a short time. And then she met Lucas. And everything seemed okay. Lucas was a seemingly grandiose hulk of a man, polite and filled with what Talon now discerned as faux kindness and a gravitational air around him. He was the kind of man a woman would desire, meddle with in her lustful fantasies that she tended to keep to herself. He was ideal. Or at least, Talon thought so. Lucas was kind enough to recognize Talon's lust of magic, and teach him some Theurgy. He taught Talon how to heal, and how to connect with nature on such levels that even the most divine of beings would feel offended. But Talon was naïve. He never knew what Lucas was actually capable of, despite the latter being a renowned Theurgist who had fought alongside many legends in the Second Great Wizard War.

News of Sierra Bloodbane's death in the beginning flames of the Third Great Wizard War brought Talon and his younger brother to tears, and they looked to Lucas for comfort, crimson and burgundy eyes filled with childish innocence, begging to be woken from the horrendous dream that tormented them. Instead, they were met with hard viridian eyes, pupils like obsidian stones embedded into a rock that seemed to hum with fury, betrayal and regret.

Lucas lashed out, rage filling his eyes, bringing the tears, causing him to blame Talon and Hunter for the death of their kind, loving mother. Lucas' hatred manifested itself in the form of brutalization, sending balled fists careening into Talon's stomach, open palms coated with magic into the side of Hunter's face, heavy boots into crotches, knuckles into jaws. Talon didn't fight back, still clinging onto the vain and fragile hope that the man that they almost considered a father managed to retain his happiness, his kindness and his pride that he often enjoyed flaunting around their mother. But it wasn't there. Talon's hope was slaughtered, the light in his eyes finally dying. He began to hate Lucas—hate him for creating a farce to woo his mother, hate him for taking his anger out on them—hate him for imprisoning them.

Hunter was always optimistic, always offering a solution even while they were getting beat. Hunter's optimism was beginning to annoy him. But Talon was the realist. He knew that they'd never be free. He remained firm to the resolution that just maybe if he could turn his hatred into power, he could kill Lucas. But he couldn't do it. They'd never be free. No use denying the inevitable.

Until now.

Talon stared at the axe in his hand, a rush of power causing his muscles to tense, his mind going numb. Obsidian tendrils circled his arm, spiraling downwards, wrapping almost protectively around his hand. Although he failed to notice, his eyes glowed brightly. He inhaled deeply and a name flashed through his mind, and although it was gone, its…essence lingered in his subconscious, as if it was etched there—no, burned there—by an enigmatic force. The name caused Talon to chuckle softly despite his lack of knowledge as to who owned the name or what relationship the owner had to him as he began to traverse the field on the path back towards his house. He swung his bag lazily, the items within seeming to lose value in his mind as he thought of the name, words burning in his skull.

Thalomir.

The dark presence pulsated firmly in Talon's subconscious, and he felt it as he walked, as if it were drawing on his emotion, his raw hatred for Lucas; his fury directed towards his surrogate father for hurting his brother, for disgracing their family name and sending them into an abyss of grief. He even felt his sliver of hope slip away, the hope that Lucas was still a good man and just needed time. He felt the emotions contort in the back of his mind, a sharp tingle that lanced from his brain down to his fingertips.

Thalomir. Thalomir. Thalomir.

The name burned almost painfully against Talon's skull, and he gritted his teeth as words began to flash in his mind, the ground in front of him lit up by the glow of his crimson irises, the words converting his emotions to power, strength, motive—the sustenance required to do what he had feared and yet yearned to do ever since Sierra Bloodbane's death.

He was going to kill Lucas. He inhaled deeply, his resolve chiseled into stone as the last sentence nearly exploded within him, visions of mauling the object of his hatred springing into mind.

Go forth, my paragon.

"Exalted…" Hunter Lioncloud whispered, hands strung together behind his head, burgundy eyes focused on the ceiling, running along the sophisticated patterns that lined the underside of the roof. The title sounded so intriguing. Lucas was an Exalted Theurgist. Lucas Lioncloud.

Why? Hunter wouldn't know. As far as the twelve year-old cared, Lucas was a sick, desperate, toxic degenerate shell of a pure human being-failing to rectify himself despite the many chances he was given in life-who deserved to have a wand shoved up his anus and a plethora of spells cast, which would in turn destroy his innards and technically vaporize him.

Technically.

Hunter hated Lucas, but kept the man's last name because, in his mind, the name 'Lioncloud' inspired hope and the women loved it. He liked women. Especially the ones with nice faces.

He thought.

Hunter sighed again, raising his hand in front of his face, inhaling deeply before exhaling as if he were an Earthborn taking a yoga class. An amused expression replaced his bleak gaze as a slight crackle resonated throughout the room, and a purple bolt of electricity flashed past his line of sight. Lucas used to teach Talon and Hunter Theurgy, but Hunter abhorred the connection he was required to forge with nature in order to heal himself and other people. Healing was overrated. Why heal when you could just…fry them?

That's exactly what he'd asked himself about a week before he realized Lucas' kindness, the thing that he'd admired so much, was all an act. Well, at least…that's what it seemed like from his standpoint. He hated Lucas, but remained optimistic. Hope was always good. Hunter always recognized Talon's urge to smash Lucas' head in. Hunter loved his brother, but preferred to remain patient. Opportunity would come.

Talon's leaky faucet-like, impulsive yet strangely powerful personality would come in handy. Just not yet.

Hunter inhaled again, and pointed his fingertips at the translucent glass that rest on his bedside table, and concentrated on the water, gingerly, gradually parting his eyelids to stare at the water. The water began to rise slightly, like hairs on end despite everything remaining absolutely still. Hunter stared, leaning in a little closer, but leapt backwards to scramble against the wall with a shrill yelp as the glass shattered, the water spilled forth, glad to be released, and purple electricity flickered across the shards of glass, the hairs on Hunter's arm straighter than the spikes on spike traps.

Wild Bolt.

Hunter's eyes were wide with metaphorical shock as his brother entered through the window, axe in hand. "Talon…!? You're back late…what took you so long?" Talon remained silent, merely glancing blankly at Hunter. Hunter could visibly notice the fire in his brother's eyes and leaned in tenaciously to look closer, but relinquished the idea when he noted that his brother's eyes were glowing. Dark crimson was now a bright scarlet in the darkness of the room, and the sight of his eyes sent fear striking through Hunter's heart. It was as if his eyes were on fire; as if he were influenced by an enigmatic force.

Talon finally replied after the moments of silence, his voice sounding indifferent, detached, frigid. "I'm going to kill Lucas." He murmured softly. That didn't sound like his voice.

Hunter blanched and almost leaped backwards.

Kill.

"Wait, what-?" He began, confounded to the enth degree. "Why now? Why kill him when we can just run?"

Talon inhaled deeply, trying to keep his voice from cracking. He could already feel his confidence, that smug feeling that pressed on him in his subconscious waning. Tentatively, he answered, "Because we need to be free. That feeling of being chained down will always be with us if we run, Hunter. I need you to be free."

Hunter's lip quivered slightly, and he felt his eyes water, but he chose not to put much thought to it. "He's...downstairs. Waiting for you." The simple, terse reply had been enough, and Talon tossed Hunter the axe, pulling the dagger-like blade from his bag, weighing the weapon in his grip. He swung the bag onto his back again, and beckoned to his brother, adrenaline beginning to fill his nerves again.

Succumb.

A putrid smell, a crackle, acrid smoke, repugnant flames, stars and then suddenly, Talon was in front of Lucas, the Theurgist poised to strike his surrogate son. Talon turned around, watching as Hunter's lips moved slowly. He turned back to Lucas, an otherworldly, ethereal light reflected off of the silver trim on Lucas' robes. Talon would've put more thought to it, but instead glanced at Lucas, who carried a swirling ball of green energy in his hands, prepared to throw it at Talon. The thirteen year old wondered what was going on, his mind failing to register what had happened in what felt like seconds. And why was everything moving so slow?

Kill.

The word flashed in his mind, and the crimson light that had been vaguely bouncing off of Lucas' robes grew brighter, and Talon lost control of his limbs. As if he were an animal hunting prey on instinct, Talon growled darkly, and swiftly drew his arm in a wide arc across his waist, murky blood seeping forth, Lucas' face slowly contorting into an expression filled with insatiable misery. Talon didn't wait any longer, dashed behind Lucas, eliciting a gradual yell from the man as he sliced his thigh with all the force he could muster and as everything began to come into focus and move at regular speed. Talon whirled around, leaped into the air, and sliced at the nape of Lucas' neck, wispy strands of thin, golden hair remaining in the air for seconds. Talon drove the dagger into his stepfather's back as his boots brushed against the ground and retreated two steps before clapping his hands, despite being unsure why. He didn't quite understand what he had just done, or even what he was doing currently. His mind remained in a dark haze, as if caged and desperate to escape, to breathe, to live.

Kill.

Without any prior warning, the areas where Lucas had been wounded suddenly exploded, an obsidian miasma spilling forth from open areas on his body, He yelped, becoming rigid for a brief moment, and then crumpled to the floor, his face pale and quite skinner and drained than it had been seconds before. As if he'd been drained of energy, life and blood. The miasma swirled around Talon for a moment before it dissipated, seeming to vanish upon contact with his skin. His flesh began to rot, which shouldn't have been possible, especially that quickly. Talon inhaled deeply, blinking once, staring at Lucas. The urge to retch overwhelmed him, and he lost his previous meal a few feet from the body, the stench of already rotting flesh filling his nostrils. Talon felt it in his mind. Felt him, tickling his subconscious, emitting a vile, putrid, yet soothing and alluring presence. Thalomir.

Talon's head pounded. He ached. He knocked on his head with a fist, shaking his cranium gently as if to remove the pulsating feeling in his brain. It felt off. Strange. Ominous.

You have performed well, my kin.

Hunter covered his mouth, eyes wide with shock, vague satisfaction hidden in his gaze. He stared at Talon, brown eyes meeting burgundy.

"What now?" The younger of the two asked, his voice slightly muffled by his hand. Hunter gripped the axe loosely with one hand, afraid of what would happen next.

Talon spat out the rest of the bile from his mouth nonchalantly, and kicked Lucas' lifeless corpse, to reassure himself that he was free. "We run." He murmured, before grabbing his bag, and dashing towards the door, hauling Hunter along.

Somewhere in the back of Talon's mind, he heard a deep voice, a chuckle, emanating from his head, filling his ears with white noise and his body with satisfaction.

It was unnerving really, and filled Talon with a sense of dread.

Where did this road lead?

MW: Right then. So if you're still confused and wondering where I'm going with this, I decided to begin with Talon and Hunter's perspectives. As they meet new people, it'll shift in and out of various other character perspectives. Don't worry, I'm going to make sure this flows.

So, basically, the whole plotline (And if I start straying from the topic, please tell me) is that a number of protagonists with each of their own intriguing (Hopefully) pasts are thrust into a war against a witch known as Morganthe. She is seen a various number of times terrorizing other worlds, and by the time Merle Ambrose gathers an army to prevent her from rising, she's already one of the most powerful magic-users in the galaxy and has many worlds under her control. The story begins with two boys and their abusive stepfather, who the older boy quickly dispatches. The siblings manage to escape, and are on the run when they stumble upon the ship of the White Owl Pirates. They meet a slightly older boy who uses them to plot his own defection from the White Owls and frames Talon and the other White Owls for murder. Hunter, the younger sibling, escapes and gains the knowledge on how to work a ship (From Thalomir, of course. Vague hints and detailed explanations are scattered throughout the story. I'll let you try and deduce what happens in between), and makes it to Ravenwood, where he falls under the care of Merle Ambrose. From there, Hunter and Talon are focused on, along with each of the people they meet, including Raht, Team Immortal, Sabrina Wolfheart, Mirror Moonstone, James Duskstone, B.L.A.S.T., Dr. Katenstein, Malistaire, Astra Snaketongue, and a plethora of other characters.

A/N: I've already taken OC Submissions, but I will be accepting an OC that can double as one of Morganthe's elite henchmen (Next to Sabrina.) until the AU special is released. If I get to 55-65 reviews after posting the next chapter, I will let you help me write a chapter, or let you write the chapter with me editing. So keep reviewing!

Here are the people I've taken Submissions from.

James Firecrafter - James Duskstone (Thumaturge; Legendary): Good

Di KNight - B.L.A.S.T. (Katenstein's All-Killing Machine; Unranked): Neutral, Team Immortal (Maximillion Goldstar - Conjurer; Legendary, William Lightningwind - Diviner; Legendary, Vincent Deathwalker - Necromancer; Legendary), Raht (White Owl Pirate/Some Moon Magic; Unranked, around Initiate level): Good

BuBu Winter - Astra Snaketongue (Conjurer; Grandmaster): Good/Neutral

Fluffy Sakura-kun - Miranda "Mirror" Moonstone (Pyromancer; Magus/Master): Good

Wolfheart Ze Fangirl - Sabrina Oceansword (Diviner; Unranked, around Master level): Bad

Hunter Lioncloud - Hunter Lioncloud (Diviner; Grandmaster): Good

Amaraah01 (Think I spelled it right) - Leif (Theurgist; Magus/Master): Good, Valkyrie Shadowspear (Thumaturge; Adept, strong enough to hold off two powerful wizards at once): Bad