[ WP ] A generic RPG story ( such as , but not necessarily , `` the princess has been kidnapped ! '' ) from the villain 's point of view . Make the audience sympathetic to his/her cause .

In the darkness of the cave I sit and await my final battle, and final fate. It has been centuries in the making, but alas I am the last. It was n't always this way, no indeed at one time my kind were as numerous as the sands of a beach. That however was before they came, that was before man appeared. There were those of the ancient council that wanted to immediately wipe them from our precious lands and shores. They wanted to make war with man and obliterate the species before they could spread. Those of us back then that desired peace with all of those we encountered, objected to such a harsh and cold action. We argued that surely we could find common ground with these new creatures, as we had so many others. We were so very mistaken. Where as other species learned to adapt to our continent and environment, man destroyed all in its path to adjust the land to its needs. Where as we cherished all live from the tiny sprite that awoke the flowers, to the giant dragons of the fire mountains. Man, well man only cared for itself. Entire species were lost in such a short time, in a few short decades the council had shrunk already. Again the more warlike of us urged for war and death for all mankind, and again so foolishly those more peaceable among us argued for peace. 
 
 One hundred years passed, and my kind endeavored to make peace with mankind a reality. We befriended them, taught them our ways, shared our magics. For all our kindness and friendship, we were repaid with betrayal and death. We were enslaved, and dissected. We were hunted to our numbers were so very few. We met again with the ancient council, of the one thousand members now only six remained. Six races were all that were left of our once great unity and civilization. My kind were finally ready for war, finally ready to face harsh truths and remove man from our home. However, it was already too late. There were no remaining warlike races to take up the call, and the six races remaining did n't posses the numbers for what was required. We decided to amass our magic and remaining power and relocate to a nearby large island. 
 
 We moved, and we settled, we set up barriers that would let no other in. For a time things were good, we seemed to thrive and start to prosper once more. Then two hundred years later, they arrived again. How they breached our barriers we will never know. How they found the heart of us so fast was beyond our understanding. Never could we imagine a species so selfish and self absorbed, yet so driven and curious. The last council meeting was called, the empty seats burned into us more than any statement truly could. There were two of us left, two out of one thousand, and we represented only a handful of those two races. We discussed our impending doom, we looked back with clarity at our mistakes when it came to dealing with man. Then a desperate plan was born, a plan not to save us, but to make sure we were never forgotten. 
 
 We gathered the last of our people, magic, and power. We made a great sacrifice and created the ultimate weapon. It cost us all but the handful needed to carry out the plan. Six of us were all that remained, six beings from millions. We went to the corners of their empire, and we released our weapon. Wherever we deployed it, death and destruction followed for the humans. They called it `` The Black Death'', we called it retribution. 
 
 They found out it was us that had done this horror to them, and their hate was swift. Over the last fifty years they have hunted down the other five, and now I alone am left. I hear them now, a band of them in their beaten metal they call armor. They will end me, of that I am sure for I have no magic or power left. I am the last, I await them. I await the chance to be re-united with all of my old people.
