Post by Soothsayer on Dec 13, 2008 11:28:17 GMT -5
Many centuries ago, before the world had a name, and before human beings had ever spread their seed of destruction about the galaxy, there existed a race of four-legged beings known as the Zoul [Zow - ool]. They were a peaceful nation, one in which each and every individual was assigned a Sentient Grail that required reaching by the end of their mortal lives. For the good of their society, and for the promise of a heavenly afterlife, each Zoulan strived to achieve their Grail. And most every one did reach their Grail. But there was one whom did not.
His name was Heligro, and with his failure came his exile to the great Western Desert, its sands lifeless as they were vast. Heligro wandered the deserts for days until he finally collapsed, preparing himself for death. Just when he thought he would enter the blackened abyss, a deep, rumbling voice called out between the songs of the dunes.
"Your bones will turn to dust where you lay. They will drift with the wind and infect the remainder of your race with your poisonous sin. Your kind will cease to exist. They will fade off into nothingness, into distant memories, forgotten by all unless you consider my alternative and allow me to restore to you your life. Aide me in my quest for power, shelter me in your blackened soul, submit to my will, and I will give you everything you want and more. I will give you your Grail, Zoul. I will give you your Grail."
Torn between a desire to protect his kind, and a desire to hate them for what they had done to him, Heligro accepted the stranger's offer. He felt his body lift from the ground; he felt his thirst evaporate with his pain and hunger; he felt a renewed strength begin to pulse through his veins as they steadily filled with black blood. His bones cracked and popped as a transformation took over his body, and he forever lost the appearance of the horse-like Zoul.
Now he bore two legs, two arms and a long snout with a split lower jaw. Serrated teeth lined each mandible, a forked tongue rested upon the thin flap of reddened skin connected the lower jaws together. His eyes rolled in his head, turning scarlet from brown, and large slit-like nostrils moved forward on his snout. No longer did he possess a tail, and his neck had shortened considerably. Black armor now plated his strange body, glistening in the light of the desert starlight. He took his first step, while an internal voice commanded him what to do next.
"You will hunt down your people, infect them with your disease, and spread my message of power throughout the world you once called your own. You, Heligro, are my minion. My Wraith."
Enter Sustenance
His name was Heligro, and with his failure came his exile to the great Western Desert, its sands lifeless as they were vast. Heligro wandered the deserts for days until he finally collapsed, preparing himself for death. Just when he thought he would enter the blackened abyss, a deep, rumbling voice called out between the songs of the dunes.
"Your bones will turn to dust where you lay. They will drift with the wind and infect the remainder of your race with your poisonous sin. Your kind will cease to exist. They will fade off into nothingness, into distant memories, forgotten by all unless you consider my alternative and allow me to restore to you your life. Aide me in my quest for power, shelter me in your blackened soul, submit to my will, and I will give you everything you want and more. I will give you your Grail, Zoul. I will give you your Grail."
Torn between a desire to protect his kind, and a desire to hate them for what they had done to him, Heligro accepted the stranger's offer. He felt his body lift from the ground; he felt his thirst evaporate with his pain and hunger; he felt a renewed strength begin to pulse through his veins as they steadily filled with black blood. His bones cracked and popped as a transformation took over his body, and he forever lost the appearance of the horse-like Zoul.
Now he bore two legs, two arms and a long snout with a split lower jaw. Serrated teeth lined each mandible, a forked tongue rested upon the thin flap of reddened skin connected the lower jaws together. His eyes rolled in his head, turning scarlet from brown, and large slit-like nostrils moved forward on his snout. No longer did he possess a tail, and his neck had shortened considerably. Black armor now plated his strange body, glistening in the light of the desert starlight. He took his first step, while an internal voice commanded him what to do next.
"You will hunt down your people, infect them with your disease, and spread my message of power throughout the world you once called your own. You, Heligro, are my minion. My Wraith."
Enter Sustenance