Prince of Never

Main Event Winner!

Hall Of Fame!

Survival - 11 Wins!

Brutal - 3 Fatalities


Alignment: Hero

Team: Sentinels


Strength: Standard

Agility: Superior

Mind: Standard

Body: Standard


Personal Wins: 11

Personal Losses: 3


The Phylae have ruled Khazan since before the dawn of the Third Age. My Khazan. Not this one. A difference? Oh, ever so slight. Let me recall. I was there when the Sentinels were disbanded the fifth and final time, after the Corporations united in a catastrophic "first strike" that actually endeared us to the general populace for a short time. I saw the Shallow Guild's Monoliths burn... no, not just burn... Burn with strange fire as holdouts from a thousand dimensions sought to ward off The Family's advances. I saw The Marauders and The Fallen united in a last desperate strike that crippled all seven of my mothers, even as the greatest Heroes and Avatars in the Multiverse attacked our forward positions outright. I was there when the last defender, the man with my face and my voice, fell. And Khazan was ours. The Regent's council held sway of the Nexus and all the territory From the Core to the Outer Galactic Rim. And I was Crowned Prince of the Phylae and blessed Augur of Luck's Vagaries. And I hated it. The Regent sought to bring final order and prosperity to a land beset on all sides with chaos and disarray. But even as we sought to breathe new life into this planet, the life faded from it. So long had Khazan been touched by the spark of life from so many worlds, the planet had grown beyond a single source's power to support. Even as the Regent himself started to create new and different beings to repopulate it, we realized the Nexus was crumbling. It was a very slow process, by anyone's standards. There were times- decades even- when it was easy to pretend as though nothing was wrong. We stayed there, for a time, trying to put the pieces back together. Eventually the others left, and there was only the Regent and I- father and son- floating amidst the crumbled ruins of a once great Nexus, with only the Core's slowly dying light to steer by. He told me of his dreams of what he had wanted to make of the world. A Khazan with purpose, populated by only the best and brightest, with reorganized social and political structures, a single governing body of physical laws, and a complete, accurate, publicly available record of every detail therein. But it was not to be. Too late we saw how easy it is to destroy that which we love through our acts of selfishness. And yet here I stand. Here in a complete and beautifully disorganized Nexus, so full of life and energy. The Regent had used the last of his power to send me here, to a Khazan where we never existed. I should be ecstatic. This is a Nexus even greater than I remember. But something makes me uneasy. Before he sent me here, my father told me "Don't worry, we'll get it right the next time."

Please understand. Before I came here I wanted nothing else in my life but to visit a Khazan as it was before the presence of the Regent. But I also fought in a war here, on the side that destroyed all of this. My guilt, instead of being appeased, has been multiplied, now that I see how terrible the destruction really was. At the same time, I am made uneasy by the rampant disorder and utter lack of organization here, having dedicated my life for so long to ending those very ideas. And I wonder if I will need to fight to save this world one day. And if so, will it be from myself?


     Danger Sense: Ultimate


The Regent hated Luck. It was the one aspect of the old way that he could never control. So he manipulated events so that the next Luck Augur would be born of his blood. And so it was that I came to be a Crowned Prince of the Phylae. This birth alone gifted me with a good degree of clairvoyance, which was augmented not only by virtue of being the Augur; but also by being the Seventh Auspex born in that hour, (thanks to what I am told was a painful forced labor by all my mothers.) Fate, such as it is, can be likened to a landscape of which I can perceive many aspects.



     Lucky: Ultimate


There was a girl there for a while, I remember, a holdout from after the war who neither opposed my father nor sided with him. She merely sat at the edge of the world and meditated, occasionally riffling through an old deck of cards she kept. She stayed much longer than anyone else, a few centuries perhaps, but eventually she too became weary of that place and moved... elsewhere. In my dealings with her she always treated me quite favorably, although she did occasionally lament... something. I do hope she found her way here.



     Spellcraft: Ultimate

  • Ranged Attack Only
  • Area Affect
  • Multi-Attacks
  • Ranged and Melee Attack


It has occurred to me many times since I came here, if there is no Regent of the Phylae here, then I am the Regent. "The King is dead. Long live me." But I don't feel like a Regent. I've been a Prince for as long as anyone can remember. Maybe longer. And my father was Regent of a Khazan that has never existed here. I am the Son a Tyrant of Neverwhen. The Prince of Never. But I still have a fraction of the Regent's will within me. In spite of myself I cannot see yet whether the power inside me is the last tiny death rattle of my father or a mere spark before the flames that may yet come to consume this world. If the latter is true, I will be ready to, as they say, fight fire with fire. Until then, I intend to see just how hotly I can burn.



     Telekinesis: Ultimate


There never was a Regent. The Khazan I destroyed never existed. Never. I... I never understood. Prince of Never. Prince of Heaven. The blurring between the two is more difficult to grasp than you might imagine. What gifts are these... the powers to destroy, what good are they without the power to heal? Where is the redeemer, that old fool who saved me and in doing so saved part of himself? Who is like God? Not the Regent. Not me and not him. I can crush the life from a man with but a thought, the old man can return it. But we are two, seperate, both nameless; both soulless. Broken long ago, in the time before. Worlds and memories created to keep us apart. Who is the architect of this great emptiness? I must trust my other, the old man speaks to me even now in my mind. He tells me I have a sister. The most hated, the most high. Of all that were, only she can make us whole again.