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Description
Made with lexica

Suddenly, the brutalist statue risen from the boiling sea of blood came to life with unholy energy taking stone and turning it into a sinister eldritch flesh. Its hands begun to move, each finger spasming independently from each other like some sort of sentient tendril possessed by an otherworldy bloodfirst - the skin on them emaciated and weathered, each twice as long and with twice as many articulations as one would expect for a humanoid of its type, arcing like sinister hooks. There were no nails, but blades of metal growing directly in continuation of the bone, flesh wrapped chaotically at their base. Eventually, it finally took notice of us, and begun its mock.

"I am Bhaal, god of death, god of murder, god of slaughter. Where there is suffering, I languish. Where there is war, I thrive. Where there is joy...well, one can hardly have joy without another's suffering and bloodshed now, can they?"

"And now, you are mine."

Description
Made with lexica

Suddenly, the brutalist statue risen from the boiling sea of blood came to life with unholy energy taking stone and turning it into a sinister eldritch flesh. Its hands begun to move, each finger spasming independently from each other like some sort of sentient tendril possessed by an otherworldy bloodfirst - the skin on them emaciated and weathered, each twice as long and with twice as many articulations as one would expect for a humanoid of its type, arcing like sinister hooks. There were no nails, but blades of metal growing directly in continuation of the bone, flesh wrapped chaotically at their base. Eventually, it finally took notice of us, and begun its mock.

"I am Bhaal, god of death, god of murder, god of slaughter. Where there is suffering, I languish. Where there is war, I thrive. Where there is joy...well, one can hardly have joy without another's suffering and bloodshed now, can they?"

"And now, you are mine."