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There was a man named Anshar, youngest son to the Assyrian king Shamshi-Adad
II, said to be the strongest and smartest among all of his brothers, the pride of his
father. Through the constant fights for the throne, he remained unscathed and
everyone was convinced he would be the one to succeed his father. He was said to
be fearless and even cruel beyond words.

He went into battle every chance he got and never failed to return victorious. At the
age of 32 however, the betrayal of some of his men and his own brothers almost
cost him his life. Anshar was left for dead on a field, in a pool of his own blood, with
fatal wounds all over his body. His fate seemed inevitable, yet he once again
returned home alive... more or less. A powerful spirit known by some witches as Alla
Xul, a spirit as evil as one could judge a spirit to be, had been bound to protect
Anshar by Hebat (Anshar's mother and a powerful witch herself). The spirit had also
developed a taste for blood and the desire to become flesh, whether the spell had
anything to do with it will forever remain a secret. The dying, wounded Anshar was
the perfect vessel and Alla Xul merged with the one he was meant ot protect. The
being that stood up on that field, with its wounds completely healed, was neither
Alla Xul, nor Anshar... to be more precise, it was both. The new Anshar had all of his
memories intact, but also possessed the feelings, needs and urges of the spirit
within him... he was a new creature altogether.

Anshar was physically stronger, more agile and alert than any other man on Earth.
There was no wound inflicted on him that would not heal. His senses were
amazingly acute also. There were downsides too, of course: he thirsted for human
blood all the time and he wasn't able to control his urges. His every feeling seemed
to be intensified a thousand times... whether it was anger, or joy, it was always
overwhelming and drove him to madness.

He disappeared without a word to his family, never to be seen or heard from again.
For five hundred years he roamed the Earth as no more than a wild animal, feeding
on and killing anyone that crossed his path, crying uncontrollably for days, then
laughing like a mad man for uncounted hours. Anshar's long moments of painful
madness were separated by brief, but torturous flashes of lucidity. He would, most
of the time, walk around naked and mindless, driven only by hunger and despair.
Only after those long, painful centuries, his sanity seemed to be slowly returning.
Another hundred years went by before he could pass for human once more and
adjust to the changed world that lay before him.

He had no idea how many years had passed while he had been consumed by
madness, but he was now willing to live as a human being once more... or at least
try to. Wherever he went, he easily gained power and influence with the aid of his
'talents'. He spread fear and demanded respect, but tried to keep his feeding habits
a secret.

It wasn't long until he discovered he could create more of his kind, by draining them
of their blood, bringing them to the brink of death and then feeding them his own
blood. Those he made were just like him, powerful, strong, quick and they were
completely loyal to him. But they couldn't stand the rays of the sun for long. It
seemed to burn their skin after a few hours, bringing them excruciating pain and
wounds that took a long time to heal. He made tens of others like him, and they, in
turn, made others.

He always enjoyed the company of women, without caring for any of them, until,
predictably, as all good stories demand, a certain woman caught his interest. A
Sumerian beauty by the name of Kishargal, who belonged to another man, Gibil. Of
course that made no difference to Anshar, but Kishargal loved her husband and
refused time and time again Anshar's attention, knowing very well she risked death
in doing so, but, fortunately for her, Anshar was too caught up in his infatuation with
Kishargal and he had no intention of harming her... at least not before he made her

Anshar resorted to the only option he thought he had left... what every fiber of his
being told him to do: he killed Gibil, bringing his lifeless body to his wife himself, not
bothering to hide his crime. He wanted her to fear him, to surrender to him. What
Anshar didn't know was that Kishargal was a Kashshaptu, meaning a witch, and a
frighteningly powerful one. Seeing her husband's dead body in the arms of his
murderer drove her to madness. That was the day Anshar found his match. In the
throes of her madness, Kishargal summoned the spirit of Alla Xul that had merged
with Anshar. She summoned him into her own body, knowing that it would kill her.
Even though she was a powerful witch, her power alone wasn't nearly enough to do
something like this. Without realizing it, she was drawing the life force of the entire
small village she lived in, humans and animals alike. The witch couldn't completely
separate the spirit from Anshar's body, since they were now one and the same, but
enough of the spirit entered her body and Anshar fell lifeless to the floor.

It wasn't enough to actually kill the vampire, but she waited for her own death and
the death of the spirit within her. That meant that Anshar would never return to life
again. Yet death never came for Kishargal. She sat on the ground with Gibil's head
pressed against her chest, salty tears running down her face. For how long she sat

there, she had no idea. Hours passed... she fell unconscious to the ground. A vivid
dream revealed to the witch the reason she had survived the merge with the spirit...
she was pregnant. Kishargal was pregnant with a little girl, she saw it clearly and
she also felt it: the child had absorbed the part of Alla Xul that the witch had
summoned into her body. A child in her mother's womb was strong and it saved
Kishargal's life as well. That however meant that the child's blood held the power to
reawaken Anshar.

Knowing that Anshar wasn't completely dead, she dragged his body to a cave and
hid it there, as deep as she could go and then the barely sane Kishargal left behind
her old village, filled with the lifeless bodies of those she had killed in order to get
her revenge and walked, by herself, for weeks, until she found another village in
which she could settle to give birth. The girl bore a small birthmark, on her left side,
halfway between the breast and belly button, that looked like a strange, wavy letter
"R". She would come to be known as the "Shi", meaning "the breath of life".

Afraid of that power, in hiding and always weary that Anshar's offspring would find
her and use her daughter to revive her husband's murderer, Kishargal needed to
make plans. She gathered the strongest witches by sending out a plea for help
through dreams. A few witches answered her and came to her aid. What she wanted
to do was pure madness, but witches had never lacked a certain madness and the
desire to take risks. As far as she knew Kishargal, from the day she had been born,
had always had a spirit attached to her. Tiamat, she called it for it was nothing like
the other spirits. The name meant "primeval chaos" and it fit the spirit perfectly for
she had always considered it to be more like an animal, a wolf than a human, yet its
presence was also far stronger than normal.

Her plan was to merge Tiamat (which she now knew was possible) with a great
fighter, Mekhet. He had agreed to the witches plan to make him stronger for his
ambitions were great, yet he had no idea what the actual merge would result in, nor
had the witches. The ritual was a success, yet Kishargal had betrayed the other
witches present at the ritual. While in the throws of the spell and left defenseless,
she absorbed their entire life energy to put into the merge. It was partly done
without realizing what she was doing yet, part of her, must have known from the
beginning it would come to it.

Despite the sacrifices and dangers, the merge happened and Mekhet was now a
new creature. As Kishargal suspected, the spirit had not been human-like, rather
wolf-like and the only animal spirit she knew existed. Mekhet had to go through
painful transformations from human into wolf every time he lost control of his
feelings and, especially as the full moon approached. Kishargal was there by his
side through it all, using her magic to soothe his pain and ease the transformations.

When her daughter grew, she became close to Mekhet as well, though she
possessed no magic to help him with. It all became easier with the passage of time
until Mekhet was able to turn from human into wolf at will.

He had one plea to make to Kishargal in exchange for his eternal services in
protecting her line and that was for her to allow him to have a companion like
himself. She told him to choose his mate and bite her while in his wolf form then
bring the girl to her so she could perform a spell that would allow the human to
survive the shift and become a creature just like Mekhet. This is how the Royal
Family of the werewolves began. Their eternal duty is to protect the Shi and make
sure the vampires do not use her to reawaken Anshar.

Few know now of how vampires and werewolves came to exist, yet this is where the
rivalry between species began.

Not long after Kishargal gave her last breath, vampires and werewolves became a
problem for humans and a witch intervened once more. Shamura was a triplet, yet
her sisters had no magic of their own. When the three were together, Shamura's
power somehow tripled nevertheless and she decided to take action against the
monsters that had surfaced. That is how she gathered some of the best fighters in
her village and in those around it and created a spell to make them stronger. Not
only that, but she made them drink a mixture of vampire, werewolf and witch blood
and then performed the ritual that would be known to this day as the Alhalsu. Out of
twenty warriors, only eight survived the process, but those eight became something
to be feared, Sharur. They had the enhanced senses, strength and speed that the
Supernaturals had, even though not as strong. They also had their fighting skills and
their mission became to indiscriminately hunt down the other supernaturals.

The Sharur formed families of their own, training their children from very young
ages, males and females alike, to become warriors and, when they were considered
to be ready, they had to undergo the same magical ritual to become Sharur. And
this is how the "protectors of humans" came to be.