Sand. It quite literally gets everywhere. Into your hair, under your clothes, between your fingernails, and possibly the most annoying is into your shoes. It is a simple thing most people overlook when thinking of a desert because it is full of it. And in this context the vulture has forgotten about the existence on sand in favor for some shiny metal they found.

"Its not junk? Wait, for real? Let me look again. No creased edges, no scratches or dents, and most importantly not stained with the blood of fools! Yes! Jackpot."

The vulture on one of their first ever journeys finds a scrap of metal that isn't useless and can still be sold to fill his pockets. A shin guard. Once used to protect someone in the art of war is now going to feed this vulture for a while.

And this is when a vulture learns its most important lesson. When you hold something everyone wants, then everyone will try and take it. Blinded in the desert by the brightness of their own greed the vulture is tormented by the sand and torn to shreds in mere seconds. The sand knows its part is over and collects the piece of metal to deliver to another.

That is the cycle of a vulture. You either die early or you learn to serve the strong. There has never been another path and one shall never exist.

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"Grandpa, that story sucks!"

A little boy groaned. Laying in bed in his night shirt tucked in by his grandfather. He was excited when the man said he had a story to share like no other but the old man was being delusional.

"NO NO you little punk. That is simply the beginning of this story. What good story ends with no defiance? I never even introduced the main character." The old man was annoyed at his story being criticized. His own children never dared to call his stories anything other then amazing. "A story always contains someone who does something unlike any other. Something so out of place and uncommon that the story is made in the first place. And this is that story you little tuck. About a man who did something so ungodly different that it is still shared until this day. This story is about a vulture who once scavenged a field littered with bodies and came back empty handed turning into a man revered and feared by kings and gods alike. A man who still lives until this day."

The little boy was silenced by the old grandpa after his little outburst but as he listened he began to be engrossed by the story. His eyes grow big with expectations and hopes to hear more about a man who was a vulture, a weak and feeble being, turn into something so feared.

"The man is known as many things but one of the most common is also the simplest, The Vulture King." The grandpa halted for a second to let the name sink in and to observe the childs reaction to the name drop.

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"That name sounds stupid Grandpa. Who would want to be king of something so weak?" The kid began to laugh at the silly name and the grandfather felt like he was being cursed as the blood drained from his face.

"Do not be stupid child! He can hear us as legends say and he always repays his dues. One minute or one year, no matter the time he always delivers." The kid grew silent at the mention of being heard by the silent man so the grandpa took the opportunity to continue the legend. " This story begins long ago when the vulture was but a small lad still wet behind the ears. He was just mugged for the shiny metal he found and was recovering..."

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'I swear...' A man laying face up in the desert in the middle of the night begin to think. After being beaten within half an inch of his life he passed out for a few hours and it was suddenly deep into the night. His body was heavy from the bruising and also from the hunger. 'I needed this one treasure to feed myself. Another night gone hungry it is.'

The man tries to pick himself up but everything down to his core burns. After what feels like an eternity he manages to get on his feet and carry himself in a random direction.

'I can't see too far so it doesn't matter which way I go. Staying in the warzone is dangerous so anywhere is better then here.' The man begins to think about what he needs to do while he travels past mountains of bodies that once fought here. Most of them damaged beyond repair from the battle and the few that were somewhat recognizable were scavenged already. There was nothing here for anyone anymore and the man knew it. He looked up to avoid the gloomy view of death and he found his favorite view amongst all things. Something no one could stain. So beautiful he could look at it every night and always remained stunned. Something so simple yet holds a different meaning to everyone.

The moon.

It shined bright with stars littered everywhere amongst the sky. To him the moon was his symbol of perfection. Something no one could triumph over and something everyone looked at if they wanted to or were forced to. It was a symbol of power and supremacy. It held so many meanings but to him it was his goal.

He would one day capture the beauty of the moon and make it his own. The man dreamed of a future while he staggered through the field and continued to think of the moon. Walking for a while until he is awoken from his daydreaming, or in this case nightdreaming.

He gets caught on a severed limb and loses his balance and as he tries to correct himself it is too late and he falls face forward into a puddle of bloody water. The impact on his body and primarily his chest causes a flood of pain to shoot through him. He goes to cry in pain and in the process gets a mouth full of iron tasting liquid. He forces his arm to outstretch and cause tearing in them but freeing him from his water boarding and spits out the water.

Flopping over onto his back he stares back into the moon's eyes.

'I will one day stand beside you and we will be revered by all.' As this vulture makes his declaration he looks at his status. Only viewing the simplified version and not the fully listed details

Name: TBD

Age: 22

Level: 1

Physical: 6...More

Mental: 8...More...

Magic: 0...More...

Luck: 3...More

Skills: None

Resistance: None

...More...

The Vulture wasn't pleased but there was nothing he could do. He was a no body. He has no purpose but to scavenge. He must find something for himself. And that is why he has the moon to shape himself into.