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03/21/12(Wed)19:01 No.18408766It Which Sings
A long, plain spear tipped with jagged, crude head. Shadows near to It Which Sings grow brighter, slight ones vanish entirely, but the deeper into darkness it is placed, the more beautiful and ornate it appears. It grows ever more appealing the closer to darkness it comes, until, in the depths of a pitch blackness it cannot dull, it is rapturous to behold. And, in that abyssal night, when it is the only, wondrous, sight; It Sings.
It Which Sings contains the essence of a Demon Lord whose name has been lost. In his true form, he strode the world as an ever-silent butcher, who spoke and sang through the screams and sounds of those who he would rend asunder. His music is the sound of despair, of dying stars and stillborn mercy. When he was slain and bound, the pain he endured caused him to utter a single syllable of pain, and his shock and shame burned the memory of his name from all minds, mortal and demonkin.
If not gorged on blood, pain and, most importantly, the sounds of suffering, It Which Sings begins to snuff out the light around itself. |