Oh, Great GodSinger, our town is constantly under attack and the knights and heroes don't do squat to defend us.
Elemental Affinity: Dark. The holy church and heroes of light failed to protect us. Maybe the side of evil has what It takes to defend us from the invaders
Patron: War. The men of our town aren't cut for battle. But maybe a strong hand can mold them into shape. Send a warlord if you must.
Goal: Bring us someone strong enough to protect the village. Do whatever you must, it doesn't matter the cost.
It’s hopeless. The town, gone. Everyone is dead. Blood gushing out of me with the fell sword impaled in my chest. The church… and their so called “heroes of light” didn’t answer our prayers. They left us here to die. Let that accursed necromancer ravage our hamlet. I wasted a lifetime believing their doctrine and performing their “prayers”.
Curse it all, curse it all to hell.
And here is the necromancer. Here to taunt me after all the carnage and blood spilled by his own hands. He looms over my kneeling soon-to-be corpse. No doubt wanting to turn me into his next soldier.
“Well, get on with it!” I spat at him. ”The dead aren’t exactly good company, though. Not that I imagine you’re looking for that, you sick bastard.” I added, sneering.
He only snickers. And an arrogant sounding snicker, at that. Wearing a smug smirk on his lips.
“I think I have enough soldiers, wouldn’t you agree?” He asked. “I think you’re suited to a much higher position, yes?”
“Go to hell, I’d rather be burning in hell than ever consider teaming up with you.”
“I think you forget who’s in charge here.” He snickered. “I wasn’t asking.”
“Besides, I know you have that dark spark already deep in your heart.” He deduced, getting on one knee and grabbing my chin. “That desire for vengeance, destruction, hatred. It’s in there, and it’s been there for a while, hasn’t it?” The hand on my chin began to glow with that familiar purple aura. My body grew cold, I felt my heart stop, a dark voidlike feeling swirled in my chest. My skin grew a sickly, ghostly pale white. I had died, but I was still here. His other hand was behind his back, reaching for something.
That thing was a helmet. A pure black helmet, two massive crimson horns sprouted out from the temples. That thing made me, a dead man; shiver in fear just looking at it. Without a word and only a sinister grin, he placed it on my head.
The helmet began to… whisper to me. I could feel its words in the back of my mind. Beckoning to me, urging me to give in. I summoned all the strength left in my corpse to resist.
“Your faith is quite weak for a temple knight. I can see it in your eyes.” The necromancer surmised: “So why do you follow them? Why do you believe in their doctrine?” He asked.
“I…I don’t know.” I murmured. He was right. Yes I prayed, yes I believed in their tales. But did I? There was always a nagging feeling in my heart whenever I went along with their tales. Something that told me that this was wrong. But for the sake of peace… I pushed that feeling away… and look where it got me! The void in my heart grew stronger.
My arms began to grow. Packing with thick muscle, swelling to twice the size of my head. My shoulders widened, hands thickened. What… what is this man doing!?
“They abandoned you, let all of these people die. That is MURDER. Pure hypocrisy at it's finest."
“So.. what!?” I retorted. “Just because I hate them doesn’t mean I want to join YOU.” I heaved.
“You and I are not too different.” He claimed. “We are both wolves among sheep. We were both urged to don the sheep’s clothing, forced to walk among the herd, hiding our true selves.”
I wanted to tell him to piss off, tell him he was waffling nonsense, but…! I only nodded. He… wasn’t entirely wrong. Anytime I tried to propose something that went against the church’s teachings, I was swiftly shot down, forced to hide my true thoughts deep down. That ever present void swirled even stronger. My core solidified, my chest jutted out and formed pecs. Six abs formed on my stomach. I felt myself grow taller, as well. Why did this feel… so good…?
“Sheep can only BE sheep.” He retorted. “But us wolves? We’re not bound by any herd, we can go anywhere, do anything BE anything we want.”
“Y-yeah… I get t-that.” I slurred out, my voice deadpan. It did sound right. I didn’t have to be bound by anything. I could be anything, do anything. But right now? I wanted revenge. I wanted to be someone that could strike down that accursed church… That void in my heart grew stronger, almost bursting out of my chest. My legs, beefed up with muscle, thick powerful tree trunks that held together an impressively solid and bouncy rear end. By this point, I was well reaching the necromancer in height, even though I was still kneeling down on the ground with both of knees. I let out a shocked moan as I thought about how tall and strong I could be.
My old armor, quickly fell off and shriveled into dust. Only black gauntlets, armored pants and boots remained. Leaving my upper body mostly nude to show off my mighty muscles. I smirked as I flexed.
“I’m glad you’ve decided to join me, my lord.” He said, smiling warmly. “Now tell me, what is your name?” He asked.
I paused. What was my name again? Several names popped into my mind. Most of them were too average, too plain, too human sounding. Wait, was I even human?
“Ah, right.” I apologized to him in my now demonic sounding voice. I gave his question more thought, until I finally landed on one name that I think suited me very well:
“I am Fellhardt the Dreadlord!” I roared, standing up. That’s right, that’s who I was. My face began to be shrouded by darkness, the helmet obscured my original face and in it's place, only two glowing red eyes appeared in the helmet.
"Yes! That's it, my love." He agreed, running a hand up my strong chest.
"Sterben! It has been ages." I said, patting his shoulder as I towered over him by a good 2 extra feet. I knew this man... he was my acolyte, the only person who prayed to this old god. His love... brought me here.
"I cannot believe... this worked, my lord." He awed as he gazed up at me. I, on the other hand. Gazed towards my acolyte's garb. Nice and tight, it showed off his sweet spots perfectly. I could even see a faint bulge in his groin. "It took ages to find a proper vessel, but..."
"Enough, my acolyte." I snickered, pawing my crotch. "With my resurrection, I intend to celebrate by indulging in the pleasures of human flesh once more. Care to join me, my acolyte?" I said as I reached behind and grabbed Sterben's impressively tight butt.
He only moaned and said. "Yes my lord! Anything for you!!!"
I laughed, undressing myself as I formulated: "Tonight we shall join together in bed. And tomorrow? We shall raise hell!"
"Extra Extra! Read all about it! Fellhardt the Dreadlord and his demonic army have been revived and are marching towards the capital as we speak!" The citizens panic, the sirens are sounded. Many are rapidly packing and fleeing. And the sheep at the church? Well, they're doing what they always do. Praying. Hoping for a miracle that I intend to snuff out! That's what I, Fellhardt the Dreadlord... am DESTINED to do!
