I was a man, once. I lived as many did, farming and hunting. My crops grew tall each year, and my falcon called out my prey for me to spear it. But… I was unhappy. For a god watched over me. And it was not one of those known to most, Thor, Lolth, Loki, Mystra, or Hades. A small god, one with a particularly bad temperament, watched me. Every day, approximately at high noon, he would appear in the sky, throw exactly four lightning bolts, then leave.
One day, one of those lightning bolts hit me… harder than usual, and I died. Hades greeted me, alongside Hel and some guy with a scythe. But instead of sending me along with the rest, Hades extended a great hand to me.
In exchange for my mortality, I was given wings. In exchange for my farm, my falcon was given human form. In exchange for my family, I was given powers and a brother in this new world.
And in Godville, I unlocked those powers, found my brother. Krill and I wrecked havoc on a regular basis, but once we cooled down, matured, we found the people of Godville to be quite amazing, even without their bizarre forms and abilities. My pyromancy, my form of energy, even my control over the birds who prey on the small, none of them were neccesary. I settled down, created a guild, and just… lived.