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Rolum

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  • Rolum

    Rolum's breath came slow and calm, peering deeply into the eyes of
    Muspell. For a moment they simply exchanged glances, not a word spoken
    between them, the silence becoming nearly deafening for the Assassins looking
    on. A slight smirk curled across his lips and he nodded, turning on one
    heel, the extremely soft light catching in the Ruby of his equipment,
    glistening even in the Eternal Darkness of Muspell's Lair. Rolum had long
    since learned to accept the Evil within him, the Ruby Aura that surrounded
    his body visible to anyone with an eye trained enough to see it. His body
    had been ripped, torn, and altered in the name of Evil, forever scarred for a
    purpose few could understand. Rolum had been born into a Society that
    was long since shunned from the Light, the Gates of Heaven eternally locked to
    it's Members. Things went on behind their closed doors that had brought
    fear into the black hearts of the most evil creatures. There was a time when
    they had subdued a Hound of Muspell, it's horrific screams of pain echoing
    through all of Muspell's Lair as they sacrificed it, Hammers and Daggers
    slicing at it's Flesh, warping it. When an Assassin had wandered out to
    see what had become of the hound he simply found it's Head, mangled
    and distorted, stuck into a pole, the pole situated directly in the
    center of Muspell's Altar. Muspell was the Ultimate Evil to the world, but far
    worse things walked. Rolum was one of those things. The Memory of
    Sacrifices ran through Rolum's mind as the chants came, nearly silent prayers
    in words that only the Gods to which he called could understand. His head
    leaned back as a bit of Virgin blood ran down his throat from the Goblet that
    rested at his side. He had stopped his chanting for the moment, the others
    around him taking it up. Suddenly his mouth came open, and a cry echoed
    through the enclosed stone hall, causing the other worshippers to screech
    before bowing their heads, realizing what was to come. His hands weaved in
    patterns through the air, a Ruby trail following his finger while it carved
    the Runic markings into the air, the same silent chants coming from deep in
    his throat. It began with a simple rumbling, moving to be what seemed like
    an Earthquake until the ground broke open, black smoke piling from the
    hole, marking the coming of that which they summoned. The beast reared it's head
    forward, snapping at the closest worshipper, looking for any sign of fear in
    them, searching for something to exploit and mutilate, but he stopped upon
    seeing Rolum. Rolum's body was a walking sacrifice, his mind equally
    tormented and warped.This was all the demon needed, it's long tongue
    moving over the venom-tipped fangs. The creature was ten times the size of
    an orc, but as it made it's way fully out of the hole it bowed.

    It bowed at the feet of Rolum.

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