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The Chrysalid
During the peak ours of the early morning, the darkening when the moon sets but the sun hasn't risen is the witching hour. The time when shadow covers all and Shar breathes through alleys, homes and forests, letting her darkness shelter secrets.
Harik Krows hasn't slept well at all for ages now, but tonight he did. An unimaginable burden has been lifted off of his self and he is once again whole, and he had nobody to thank but himself. Even the whispers of his dark lord went unheard, possibly even ignored by the sleeping man who has been renewed with the sense of self worth.
Harik though was woken with a start. His blankets on either end of him pull down with supernatural force as if the sheets were pulled down by the weight of giants. The sheets could have been ripped apart by the strong man, but along with the vicelike grip, a cold black hand grasps his heard forcing his body to remain ridgid in a fear induced paralyzation, but lucid to his surroundings...Only the dim residual light from a distant streetlamp filters in through the dirty window of his room. His eyes darting back and forth, the only thing on him can move sees movement from the corner of his bead rising up slowly as if coming out from under the bead.
At first it was a pale gray dome, but as it slowly rises up from under the bed, adjacent to the immoble mans pillow it reveals itself to be a skull. The grip on Hariks heart strenghens causing jolts of pain to scream through the mans body at the same time blue fire flares to life within the sockets of the skull. Thoughts filter into his head in an insidious manner that could only be described as worms burrowing into his skin, skull, and brain, in order to relay their words in ancient Netherese; Our deal is complete, and you yourself will never in any reality or birth-form shall feel the bite of your sword again. It is a pity that your god could not help one as strong willed as you, gods after all are charlatans and you would do well in remembering that. Your other request I am here to fulfill. You do not want to know of me, and I don't want you to either, so I am now going to absolve our association. Let us see how strong willed you are!
The blankets pull harder, as Harik feels the tendrils of shadow grip his heart so hard he can feel it's darkness course it's way through every vein and capillary in his body in an intense burning cold. Still unmoving, his eyes can only flutter-bloodshot as the pain moves it's way through his body, up his neck, through his cheeks.... the veins in his eyes go black and his sight is gone, but he is still aware as the darkness leeches through his brain with a intense flash of orange....
...From a nondescript building along the streets of Sundren, a mans scream tore through the night. The shrill horror indused howl could be heard within every domicile on the block, those that didn't wake from the primal screaming were plagued with nightmares as they continued on sleeping. Nearby watchmen say that the house in which the unearthly scream of torture and terror came from had then burst into flame as if the gates to hell itself blew out from within. Those involved in trying to find help for the fire did not notice the silloutette of a naked man crawling out of the inferno on his hands and knees to pass out in a puddle in a nearby alley.
((DM told me to post this and yes its suppose to be vague ))
During the peak ours of the early morning, the darkening when the moon sets but the sun hasn't risen is the witching hour. The time when shadow covers all and Shar breathes through alleys, homes and forests, letting her darkness shelter secrets.
Harik Krows hasn't slept well at all for ages now, but tonight he did. An unimaginable burden has been lifted off of his self and he is once again whole, and he had nobody to thank but himself. Even the whispers of his dark lord went unheard, possibly even ignored by the sleeping man who has been renewed with the sense of self worth.
Harik though was woken with a start. His blankets on either end of him pull down with supernatural force as if the sheets were pulled down by the weight of giants. The sheets could have been ripped apart by the strong man, but along with the vicelike grip, a cold black hand grasps his heard forcing his body to remain ridgid in a fear induced paralyzation, but lucid to his surroundings...Only the dim residual light from a distant streetlamp filters in through the dirty window of his room. His eyes darting back and forth, the only thing on him can move sees movement from the corner of his bead rising up slowly as if coming out from under the bead.
At first it was a pale gray dome, but as it slowly rises up from under the bed, adjacent to the immoble mans pillow it reveals itself to be a skull. The grip on Hariks heart strenghens causing jolts of pain to scream through the mans body at the same time blue fire flares to life within the sockets of the skull. Thoughts filter into his head in an insidious manner that could only be described as worms burrowing into his skin, skull, and brain, in order to relay their words in ancient Netherese; Our deal is complete, and you yourself will never in any reality or birth-form shall feel the bite of your sword again. It is a pity that your god could not help one as strong willed as you, gods after all are charlatans and you would do well in remembering that. Your other request I am here to fulfill. You do not want to know of me, and I don't want you to either, so I am now going to absolve our association. Let us see how strong willed you are!
The blankets pull harder, as Harik feels the tendrils of shadow grip his heart so hard he can feel it's darkness course it's way through every vein and capillary in his body in an intense burning cold. Still unmoving, his eyes can only flutter-bloodshot as the pain moves it's way through his body, up his neck, through his cheeks.... the veins in his eyes go black and his sight is gone, but he is still aware as the darkness leeches through his brain with a intense flash of orange....
...From a nondescript building along the streets of Sundren, a mans scream tore through the night. The shrill horror indused howl could be heard within every domicile on the block, those that didn't wake from the primal screaming were plagued with nightmares as they continued on sleeping. Nearby watchmen say that the house in which the unearthly scream of torture and terror came from had then burst into flame as if the gates to hell itself blew out from within. Those involved in trying to find help for the fire did not notice the silloutette of a naked man crawling out of the inferno on his hands and knees to pass out in a puddle in a nearby alley.
((DM told me to post this and yes its suppose to be vague ))