abz-j-harding: The cloak lay like a corpse over his body. Lifeless, in perpetual torture of hiding t
abz-j-harding: The cloak lay like a corpse over his body. Lifeless, in perpetual torture of hiding the body warped and remade by the powers of dark-ancient entities he had dared consort with.A clambering, wretched husk of hubris and longing, dragging, wreathing. A body no longer welcome to the warm, blossoming comforts of land. Constantly searching, reaching in the deepest, darkest, most forbidden places of the world for the one thing that he hoped, would sate this abyss that lay inside. This cruel and mangled visage of a noble sorcerer long gone. The scars on one’s hands from a life long forgotten by the creature who wore them. -- source link