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We live in secrecy, hidden from the visible eye, dwell in the grotesqueness of the world, we breed in the decayed, we cause the sickness of this beautiful world. We have no souls just desire, we have no leader, no king, nor queen. We all resided from in this forbidden graveyard, The Graveyard of Shadow Isle. The corpses of the dead in this barren tortured part of the earth are our spawning ground. We are called The Bedridden, we are called The Debilitated, but overall, we are….
The wars of Evolution have led us to the brink of extinction. Constant confrontations with The Black Plague have left us in small numbers, driven from our camps, our hosts, and soon, The Wasteland. What is The Black Plague, you may ask? It’s a sick bacterial leech, a beguiled bloodsucker that encumbers a black armor build from head to foot, strong and sturdy it holds up. Their grimace deformations make as their weapons, their tools, some with long ridged arms, long and fortified to the very tip of their venomous claws…..
Ever since I was cast out of The Great Kingdom I swore on the blood of vengeance. It shook the planet when I collided into my soon to be prison, this dungeon chained down like some unworthy slave. I have spent centuries training these death ridden souls of mine, these damned entities, the fools make a mistake and their life is mine. An army is uprising and it’s unsuspected. Many know my name, many ponder as to whether I truly exist or not, whether I will return from the filthy cage I was bound to…..
The reading in a book, named Fericul.
The rise of my men, my country, and my God have left me a mission which I sow seeded to accomplish. Bloodshed, pain, suffering is all part of my merciless campaign. Many will perish, by revolt or not, peace is not an option nor is surrender. Bestow upon yourselves a monster, a glorious beast with no care of past nor future, no emotions nor feelings. The naked nature of this feral warrior is simple, live for war then die in war. What is my name?.....
The reading in a book, named Srennis
My countless murders have left men on their knees praying for another way out but I split them anyway. Only those who have faith can slightly calm my soul’s wrath upon them and only them. I will constantly shake the ground beneath them and rain fire aaround them but until he wants to be burned I can cause no harm to them. I am the God of war, God of plague, and God of mischief, all who worship Fericul are all dead men. They have delivered their own souls to me for so simple of a solution to escape his fury. That simply is to have faith. What are their names?......
Simply to provide history of the server, as of now, is my main goal until shown otherwise. I wish to bring the good and evil past of races, classes, worships, and towns to the player's mind and let him decide whether to continue on the legacy or make a new turn. |