You have power now, a great deal of it, and plentiful followers. It is time to begin organizing them. You pick out the sick and the wounded and the old, and you have their throats slit and left in a pile. Meanwhile your followers begin to work, clearing away all the remaining statues and altars, although they are unsure how to rededicate the temple to you. They use the rubble to begin building a low wall, but it will take time before they can encircle the village.
You attempt to look for anyone of notable skill or ability as well. However, the only person you found who could be of interest has already had his mind completely shattered. The priest will do nothing without commands from you or your follower, and only when you puppet him can he imitate a man.
With that avenue frustrated, you attempt to learn what you can of the world outside the village. There is little enough they know. To the south, in the great desert, there are desert nomads, some of whom are supposedly savage raiders, although they have never troubled Dresick. There is another village about two week’s ride to the west, and a third about a week and half to the northwest. There are several small hamlets scattered about, although Dresick is the furthest east they know of – no one wants to go closer to the ruined castle than they have to.
Finally, there is apparently a “vast city” about three weeks to the north, located in between a river and a chain of low hills. Supposedly, all this area is part of the Andronian Empire, but none of these people have seen soldiers except the few who have gone to the “city.”
Casually, you then turn your attention to the murdered villagers, and let your power flow from you into them, attempting to direct it to make their souls rise in service of your will. As you do, a faint flicker of power seems to flow from somewhere else, guiding yours just slightly.
Though it leaves you feeling somewhat drained, the results are certainly worth it. Each of the fifteen corpses shambles back to their feet, eyes burning with the light of their corrupted souls, which drift around them like a cloud of smoke. You briefly experiment with controlling them, and find the soul can form a shield or a weapon, or cast itself away to search or spy or strangle, with the body knowing everything the soul does. You will need a name for these creatures, something to strike fear into the heart of those who face them.
You debate doing something with the living villagers, considering the possibilities, but eventually you decide to go ahead and try it. You order the two largest villagers to embrace, and then pour evil into their bodies. It is a simple process for you, and relatively easy as you use the energy of their own bodies and the ambient evil to fuel your work. Their chests merge, flesh wrapping around flesh before bloating and twisting, heads rising up and bending backwards so they can see before and behind, arms shifting to form crude imitations of your own form. They slaver and moan in a disturbing chorus, babbling constantly.
You step back, satisfied. That will need a name too, but you can already see it being a useful weapon. For now though, you are drained. Your followers will need organization – should they be part of the Broken or form their own cult? – and instructions on how to spend their time. And you must prepare for your next moves. Will you...
[] Lead an army to attack another village
[] Search for the desert tribes
[] Go off on your own to spread havoc and chaos
Name: Klx-Dryklfx
Time: 1 month
Physical Might: 16 (+1 ambient evil, - 5 undead, -4 mutation)
Mental Might: 16 (+1 ambient evil, - 5 undead, -4 mutation)
Followers: 13 Boneys, 66 Townsfolk
Slaves: 1 priest
Servants: 15 undead, 1 merged man-thing
Cults
The Broken
Members: 13 Boneys
Resources: 1
Power: 3 (2 spent worshipping you)
Author
Topic: The Rise of a Demon (Number of ritual wedding duels: 1) (Read 52136 times)