Tomorrow Never Dies. December 14th 2014. This was the day I cast off the bonds of my slavery and turned to serve a true cause. It was the day Delirious pressed the Eye of Tyr against my head and whispered into my ear the very key to unlocking my shackles. I lived a lifetime in what was only experienced as a moment to the rest of the world. I saw visions that would shatter the minds of most beings like a piece of glass being dropped from the top of the world. Perhaps that was Delirious' intention, to make me into what he is, a raving lunatic. Regardless of what he wished, the images he showed me placed me on the path I walk this day.
I saw the stalwart broadsword. Implacable, unquestioning. I saw his brother the spear swung in a wild violent arc, spilling the lifeblood of our enemies. They were held together with a chain. Unbreakable. Inseparable. I saw the warhammer crushing to powder the walls that stood in our way. I saw the dagger, then already plunged into its target dripping with poison invisible to sight smell and taste alike. These things came to be. All Glory Nazmaldun.
I saw a great battle and in the midst of that battle I was covered in vermin. I cast them each aside as they slithered and writhed on my skin. Innumerable they were yet I emerged as the only survivor. This too came to be. All Glory Nazmaldun.
I saw his angel of death dragged away from the safety of the flames and into the darkness. I saw those flames reach out to scorch him a final time only to be dashed out underfoot. I saw brothers born of the same darkness he was ushered into. Brothers who fought to deny their true nature, at last cast back into the abyss from whence they came, arm in arm. Just as rot strips away the flesh and lays bare the bone, these thralls have been stripped of joy, love, and loyalty to others. In it's place is hate, spite, and reverie only in causing harm to others. Loyalty only to Nazmaldun and his cause. These visions came to pass as promised. All Glory Nazmaldun.
Yet there were more. Visions of three more before the tribulation can begin. These have not yet passed, but will come to be.
First, I saw The Wanderer. The painted man. He attempted to serve two masters and was ripped asunder for it.
Next I was shown The Worm. The one that should not be. He possessed a weapon of his own and my master beckoned for it.
Last I saw the betrayer. His blood was colder than the driven snow and he made corpses of his friends and allies of their foes.
These will form his eight pillars of woe, the eight points of darkness that signal Nazmaldun's ascension to total dominance. Once assembled there will be no way to cauterize The Rot from consuming every corner of the globe.
The last vision shown is one that will forever haunt me. It is of what will become if Nazmaldun is not victorious in his war. It is a vision I will never speak of. It does not matter who or what is put in our path, every drop of blood in my body will be spilled to make sure it does not come true. If all the blood of The Eight must be spilled, so be it. All Glory Nazmaldun.
-H