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[An Unnamed Storyteller]

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It drifted aimless across the facet of Malas; long had it been forced into such an incorporeal state for what seemed to be ages without end, and without purpose. Like a child’s toy worn by time, this creature had been broken, discarded, and thought to have disappeared, never to trouble the world again. Indeed, how did such a state of affairs ever come to pass? Many had attempted to destroy this creature on several occasions, even by use of armed. This creature, tempered in the fires of Oblivion and Entropy, held its barbaric grasp on the City of Spirituality with the sole purpose of bleeding the land dry. None could seemingly undo its dark magic until unlooked for luck appeared. It is not recorded who was the one that destroyed the creature’s source; it was done and a city was freed, that is all that matters. Deeply damaged, but not destroyed, the creature, retreated to its dark citadel, were it rested for years in a vain attempt to undo what had nearly destroyed it. During this, there were several that sought the creature out for advice, knowledge, and power; it detested all with cruel bitterness, even that which saw itself as its own progeny, and the creature needlessly attempted to make blood sport on them, even sacrificing one of its most loyal servants, all while confined within the walls of its own vile domain. And yet the blow that had been dealt to this thing proved to be more fatal then it could imagine; time saw that it could not even manifest a physical form and eventually it vanished, thought never to trouble any again. Its remaining followers lost faith and its domain was swallowed by the very earth itself, an act that shows how nature rights the very worst of wrongs which should never occur. The strange natures of such things, however, are always covered in mystery. This creature, whose consciousness had nearly evaporated, has somehow discovered its self-awareness once more. It does not know why, it does not know how, it does not even know by what means, but somehow it has once again awoken…

Res...torati...on...

It is broken, beyond any condition that might be deemed tolerable at any level. History, however, has always shown that where there is a will then there will always be a way; so it has gone and so shall it go.