We built a fortress, a refuge to protect and unify our kind as we govern over all other races and their leaders. We are the stronghold, the gate against the tyrants and madmen, a crown that rests above unchallenged authority. We are the Aviary, a collective of people descended from Harpies. Thus we carry an ancestral gift to change the human body to that of a bird. Our existence is purposed to bring order and peace as far as our wings can carry us, and we have failed fantastically.
I have tried my part, dispatching witches, warlords, and murderers as directed. Sacrificing my conscience and free will to those above my rank. Then when I come home to the Aviary to bow at our council’s feet with blood caked talons, I am punished for the red mess upon the floor. There is a sickness in this place. Lethargic and potent it spreads into our system of connected minds like lice upon rats. We are the tyrants, and I am their beast on a leash.