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Description
He was a hard working man, just like his father before him. From a young age his parents had taught him the value of labor and honest work, and he held that in his heart every day. He did not follow this ideal in the hopes of wealth and fame, as the simple joy of a job well done was all he needed. This ethic of his led to a humble life, and he was happy with that. However, another saw potential within him, and thus a voice visited him one night. A promise of greatness and purpose was bestowed upon him, an offer he hesitated upon. It was never his intention to become something so grand, as he just wanted an honest, happy life. Sadly, this choice was not up to him, regardless of his answer. What arrived within his mind left a wretched infection, and it began to take over his life. He continued his labor-filled life, but each swing of the hammer grew faster and wilder, and each stomp of his boot was louder and harder. His body was becoming restless and uncontrollable, unable to sit still for even a moment. For a brief bit of time, this endless energy seemed like a blessing, but soon it began to consume him. He could not rest, or even stop for a moment. Each pause was agonizing, and his mind believed such pain was punishment for his laziness. He had to move, had to work. That was his job, his duty. Sleep became impossible, forcing him to continue endlessly for days, and then weeks. He was being driven forth by the Spurs of Diligence, and they would not allow a moment of respite.

The horrid creature that scurries throughout the land is what became of this poor soul. Driven by an endless compulsion, his body has warped into a twisted beast of grasping hands and twitching limbs. Its flailing form tears across the landscape with no rhyme or reason, as it cannot stop or pause for the slightest moment. Every part of its body is in a constant state of motion, causing the beast's path and movements to be extremely erratic. While other infected may seek out victims or sinners, he merely plows forward without direction. Those who suffer at his hands are those who had the misfortune of being in his path. When his endless charge runs into another soul, his limbs lash out and seek to snare them. If the grasping hands grab hold, they shall drag the victim along, as he does not pause his rampage for anything. What happens to his caught victims is up to chance. Some may perish as they are violently pulled along, while others may be torn apart in a frenzy of clawed limbs. Escape is possible, as one may break free of the iron grip, or the twitching limb may simply let go in its frantic state. However, they may not escape unscathed and that can lead to a terrible fate. The sharp spurs that jut from his appendages are coated in a wretched venom. Those pricked by these thorns will be infected with his horrid drive, as the poison attacks their nervous system. Violent muscle spasms will occur, and their body will be driven into a state of hyperactivity. At this point, they will be unable to control their own flesh, as every fiber in their being goes on a crazed frenzy. Those who receive a low dose of this venom will experience terrible seizures and uncontrollable twitching, but time may cause these to fade. The poor souls who are pumped full of this foul substance will not be so lucky. With every muscle going into overdrive, they shall flail about violently, their obscene movements going faster and faster until their body tears itself apart. Bones will shatter under the stress, muscles will snap and limbs will rip themselves out of their sockets. Even when the poor soul is reduced to a broken pile of meat, their corpse will continue to twitch and shudder. When this scurrying beast rips its way through town, many will fall to his terrible venom. His flailing limbs and erratic movement will ensure that all who get too close will feel his terrible spurs.

While he goes upon this mindless rampage, a great cacophony is created. All know when he is coming, as silence and subtlety are not possible in his maddened state. But even amongst the violent din, the loudest sound one can hear is his pained, ragged breathing. Like the wheezing of a race horse driven past its limits, every desperate breath he takes is raw and agonizing. The suffering that can be heard from this beast may suggest that his victims aren't the only ones who suffer from this rampage. With his own limbs moving endlessly on their own, who is to say this creature has any control over its own flesh? Perhaps its tortured mind can only watch and lament as its own body drives itself to ruin, unable to stop its self-destructive mania. Perhaps a bit of the poor man remains inside, desperately praying for death so that he may finally rest....

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This one came out kind of odd. I do like the multitude of hands, but a part of me think he came out a bit too alien. A want the virtues to have some semblance to their human roots, and I think this guy could have stand to have a bit more reference to that. Oh well!

Description
He was a hard working man, just like his father before him. From a young age his parents had taught him the value of labor and honest work, and he held that in his heart every day. He did not follow this ideal in the hopes of wealth and fame, as the simple joy of a job well done was all he needed. This ethic of his led to a humble life, and he was happy with that. However, another saw potential within him, and thus a voice visited him one night. A promise of greatness and purpose was bestowed upon him, an offer he hesitated upon. It was never his intention to become something so grand, as he just wanted an honest, happy life. Sadly, this choice was not up to him, regardless of his answer. What arrived within his mind left a wretched infection, and it began to take over his life. He continued his labor-filled life, but each swing of the hammer grew faster and wilder, and each stomp of his boot was louder and harder. His body was becoming restless and uncontrollable, unable to sit still for even a moment. For a brief bit of time, this endless energy seemed like a blessing, but soon it began to consume him. He could not rest, or even stop for a moment. Each pause was agonizing, and his mind believed such pain was punishment for his laziness. He had to move, had to work. That was his job, his duty. Sleep became impossible, forcing him to continue endlessly for days, and then weeks. He was being driven forth by the Spurs of Diligence, and they would not allow a moment of respite.

The horrid creature that scurries throughout the land is what became of this poor soul. Driven by an endless compulsion, his body has warped into a twisted beast of grasping hands and twitching limbs. Its flailing form tears across the landscape with no rhyme or reason, as it cannot stop or pause for the slightest moment. Every part of its body is in a constant state of motion, causing the beast's path and movements to be extremely erratic. While other infected may seek out victims or sinners, he merely plows forward without direction. Those who suffer at his hands are those who had the misfortune of being in his path. When his endless charge runs into another soul, his limbs lash out and seek to snare them. If the grasping hands grab hold, they shall drag the victim along, as he does not pause his rampage for anything. What happens to his caught victims is up to chance. Some may perish as they are violently pulled along, while others may be torn apart in a frenzy of clawed limbs. Escape is possible, as one may break free of the iron grip, or the twitching limb may simply let go in its frantic state. However, they may not escape unscathed and that can lead to a terrible fate. The sharp spurs that jut from his appendages are coated in a wretched venom. Those pricked by these thorns will be infected with his horrid drive, as the poison attacks their nervous system. Violent muscle spasms will occur, and their body will be driven into a state of hyperactivity. At this point, they will be unable to control their own flesh, as every fiber in their being goes on a crazed frenzy. Those who receive a low dose of this venom will experience terrible seizures and uncontrollable twitching, but time may cause these to fade. The poor souls who are pumped full of this foul substance will not be so lucky. With every muscle going into overdrive, they shall flail about violently, their obscene movements going faster and faster until their body tears itself apart. Bones will shatter under the stress, muscles will snap and limbs will rip themselves out of their sockets. Even when the poor soul is reduced to a broken pile of meat, their corpse will continue to twitch and shudder. When this scurrying beast rips its way through town, many will fall to his terrible venom. His flailing limbs and erratic movement will ensure that all who get too close will feel his terrible spurs.

While he goes upon this mindless rampage, a great cacophony is created. All know when he is coming, as silence and subtlety are not possible in his maddened state. But even amongst the violent din, the loudest sound one can hear is his pained, ragged breathing. Like the wheezing of a race horse driven past its limits, every desperate breath he takes is raw and agonizing. The suffering that can be heard from this beast may suggest that his victims aren't the only ones who suffer from this rampage. With his own limbs moving endlessly on their own, who is to say this creature has any control over its own flesh? Perhaps its tortured mind can only watch and lament as its own body drives itself to ruin, unable to stop its self-destructive mania. Perhaps a bit of the poor man remains inside, desperately praying for death so that he may finally rest....

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This one came out kind of odd. I do like the multitude of hands, but a part of me think he came out a bit too alien. A want the virtues to have some semblance to their human roots, and I think this guy could have stand to have a bit more reference to that. Oh well!