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#1 Kraikken Oct 18, 2007 16:09:26

Slaughter, butchery, barbarism delightful anecdotes used by the often altruistic ideals of "higher" beings who's lofty beliefs about the greater good will often summarize onto a simple act, kill. A quandary of a statement that perhaps makes little sense to the plain existence of my inferiors, so allow me to make it into much simpler points and occasions. What is it to be holy, if eventually all holy crusades end in worship to me? What is a holy warrior, without a holy war? My name is slandered by my counterparts who's earthly depictions are often ones bathed in light and cowled in white. Yet they give unto their patrons the powers, they provide the benedictions that ultimately lead to slaughter, that ultimately lead to me. So is it to conclude that in all creatures, great and small, pay homage to my great name? Even if the Paladin so virtues and true does not acknowledge my power, my existence, I still hear him. The silent prayer onto his sword, the grunts of exertion as he cuts, as he kills. The gently swaying grassy knolls churned to mud by the feet of thousands, the pounding of their footfalls; the drums heralding my coming! I am with him, banishing away the tentative protection that his deity offers as he wades deeper into my domain. I walk with him, hand in hand, as he deals out death to all manner of creature and foe before him. I whisper in his mind, cut, kill and he foolishly mistakes it for the urging of his god, that he still lives because of some fantastical shield of faith wrapped about his person. I make him more mine with every killing, with every wounded soldier left in slow bleeding pain in his wake. Ah, the sound of it makes me shudder with pleasure... But, I digress. It can be seen, plain and easily, that I, my very existence, my reason for being, is necessary. For what would happen to all those poor souls locked away behind yonder castle walls if had not their young men of arms so unmercifully butchered their foe? So should I, the patron of all things of war and slaughter, be cast in such inky light as those other gods who obsess with the chaotic or destructive? Of course not, for why would I destroy the place where all the best killings are done? Perhaps there are times where my presence has been so great that a man blood drunk from the ecstasy of my slightest attentions has butchered the lambs about him. Yet I ask for no apology to these little mishaps, as I am the scorpion drowning with the coyote, it is my nature. Is that so wrong? Perhaps we should ask a little child I know, rescued by a band of adventurers from the nefarious intentions of one rather unbalanced and chaotic wizard bent on destruction. Is it so wrong that his family, his children, be put to the sword as well? The seeds of his wicked deeds already firmly planted within their little minds, they would no doubt grow to be much worse than dear old daddy. (On a side note that little child went onto continue his "captures" work, by poisoning the entire water source resulting in the deaths of countless thousands. I much prefer the visceral sensation of metal cutting into flesh, and consider it to be an honest and good way to do business.) Perhaps I have swayed you? Perhaps the cloud of propaganda and filthy slander has lifted the cloud of hatred from your limited vision to see my presence in a better way. I do verily hope that I have, because that distant soft rumble is not the sound of a coming storm. They are war drums, and soon all will beg for my favor. [INDENT][INDENT]Sincerely, Erythnul, misunderstood God of slaughter[/INDENT][/INDENT] Kraikken, The Beast "I fear no King with a thousand men, and all the riches of the world! I fear but a single man, with a sharp blade, and nothing left to loose."