Xa'al of Nyrax▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
"My lord, by your hand, I have been thrust into a land where even hope dares not linger. And yet, I do not feel despair — I feel purpose. The world is soaked in shadow, every corner filled with the whispers of the damned, and it is here, in the darkest of realms, that I shall rise. The weak would cry for salvation in a place like this. I only wonder how much of it is mine to take. After all, one cannot exile a monster to a world of nightmares and expect it to fear the dark. Bene patere, Supremus."
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Xa'al of Nyrax, 780 BC
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The Core beckons...To try and fathom the mind of such a monster is a fool’s errand, for it is a mind devoid of all but a single, terrifying impulse: to rend the world asunder. There is no reasoning with such creatures. There is no redemption to be found. Only death, despair, and the cold certainty that nothing — nothing at all — can stop the rise of a villain whose very existence is the embodiment of pure evil. Who or what could have hurt him so bad? What sort of atrocities may have taken place in this knight's life to deliver such a faithful heart unto darkness.
Perhaps it has something to do with Nyrax. Yet,
what is Nyrax? A location? An unholy vow? A secret cult? A deity?
None can claim knowledge of it.
This is a tale not of good and evil, but of something far more twisted. In a world where hope is but a fleeting whisper, the dark knight is almost a natural byproduct of it. His mind is not one to be understood, nor is it meant to be. There is no real morality in his thoughts, no permanent reason in his actions, only a singular hunger for domination and destruction for a greater, mysterious purpose. He does not seek to rule the world; he seeks to bask in its depravity. Every act, woven into a tapestry of pure malevolence, where mercy is a distant myth and forgiveness a forgotten dream.
Thus, the dark knight ventures into the many domains of the Core, a place where the very fabric of reality twists and churns. He, who commonly stood alone in somber contemplation and prayer, now seeks the unthinkable — alliances with those who would otherwise be beneath his contempt. He seeks not companionship, but a means to an end. For in the twisted corners of the Core, among the most treacherous sites, lie the keys to the power he craves. Whatever unholy entity he worships does not care for the blood spilled in these alliances. It does not care if the dark knight consorts with thieves, monsters, or even the very beings of holy light he had always despised. What matters is the acquisition of power, the wealth to mold the world into something far darker.
He will use false companionship as a stepping stone, gaining trust where there is none to spare, all while carefully accumulating power and wealth. He must press on, furthering his onyxian ambitions when the world’s eyes are turned elsewhere.
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