Set the Warrior

          None could have known what would develop from a single prayer sent out across the desert to the remnants of the once proud city of Kinset. A prayer released by a eager young monk intrigued with the magical arts, who sent forth a wind of change to gather up the lost souls and guide them unto the path of the hereafter. A prayer, a hope, cast out unto the four winds to glide and swoop upon unseen drafts until coming upon its final destination point.
          But as we all know the winds are fickle beasts that often tend to tarry upon their appointed journey, rushing hither and thither upon their own paths. As it swept across the desert sands in its own fashion, it came upon a burnished skull laying half buried in the ever moving currents of dust. It was here that it picked up an unexpected soul, one that would help forge the destiny of those who had been transformed into the spirit world. One who would seek repercussions from the tragedy that Horus had brought unto that once vibrant city known as Kinset, which now was no more than a pile of charred ruins.
          Upon reaching its destination it cavorted momentarily upon a large dune overlooking the city. It languished there for a moment as if contemplating it next move, then with a flourish it spun in a circle and dashed over the head of the dune rushing towards the crushed and burned city below. There it coiled to become a rolling winddancer, chasing up the ashes of the ruined city with its cyclonic tongue. As it chittered across the ashen grave collecting upon itself the souls of the vanquished one by one, it began to take shape and form, and from this gathering two beings emerged.
          Out of the swirling ash strode a massive blackened creature with burning red eyes, footsteps of thunder, and the fires from the center of the world burning in his belly. He was the shadow horse, and upon his back he carried an empty saddle adorned with pearls.
          Behind him came another, cloaked in armor, in the shape of a man. His stride was strong and of purpose, and the steely gaze did not waver. The path for him had been chosen and he feared it not.
          And so it was that Set mounted the black fire eyed beast he named Typhon and set off upon the twisting path that would be his quest to gain retribution for those whose lives had senselessly been snuffed out.