Scara’s log: HellDate 666.25.24 – Concerning Freedom
Pain, Suffering, Torment…These where the milk and honey of life, burning forever in the grip of vengeful demons barred from the World Above. Eternity passed and I suffered in the grip of Vice, in the thrall of Pride, unforgiving masters all; but new torments are a rare treat for the jaded, crushed despairing souls ground under the crimson throne. The Lords Below offer a new torment…FREEDOM.
They release me into the World Above, to walk were they cannot, free of their hand (or so they would have me believe) to gather the Souls of the Good and Pure; and to address the balance. Good has gained too much power, so evil must rise or the world will fall into Heaven.
Torment anew; Goblins and Kobolds and Lizardmen Oh my. Living like a savage when once I lived like…a King, a lord those memories are so far away. No leave the past a distant country focus…FOCUS . Death my ambrosia, suffering my wine. The frail, fragile sub-normals I travel with now are required, they are all required. Every hand of Darkness, every malicious thought must be gathered and nurtured, we need them all. Cast out to find the artfully monikered “Snotty Nose Goblins” by my new lord Azar Kul (He who followed the 5 headed dragon, she is not a pretty sight when enraged, I have suffered her wrath before, force to bear her weight with a million other souls in the great concordance celebrations, bearing her upon a Throne cast of Gold and Bone). I feel every stare, every muttered word in the shadows; they are watching, waiting for me to fail, to give me a taste of sweet life and snatch it away.
Wolf Souls taste of cloves and dirt. Better than nothing. My new chains of purgatory are not as inept as first thought, the Lizard especially can take many a pounding but is easily enraged, and I need to watch the Kobold…he’s sneaky, and the goblin..ha, he passes himself off as a mystic but I see through his deception, Simple powders and pongs of goblin kind are his weapons…but if a sub-normal can discover those, what else can he find? My gift of hellfire is fickle. It has the power to slay them all, to burn the world but it is not mine to command. I am a vessel through which the Lords Below can dance upon the world
Dearest Diary, I have a new friend, he is called Stemug. I need to find a leash for him or he will run. He is fragile and frail, more so than a normal goblin. We are now in a stinking hole, cold, damp and reeking of ineptitude. They will need my leadership if they wish to rise, I will guide them. Yurz and Weenog lead this clan, for now. I have been sent a vision by the Lords Below, Stemug must rise if they are to be saved. He must become the new chief. I must keep this hidden for now, until the time is right. When I return my torments will be anew, fresh…I must delay my decent, every soul I send them delays my fall… how many to elevate me to paradise? For I wish to see it BURN.
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