User blog:Zeagoth/Introduction to Stalk the Herald of the Grand Harvest

This is just like... a sort of monologue he has for his log-in with an appropriate Shadow Isle theme. I just wrote this up so this is a really rough draft but this is what I have so far. The actual champion's kit is something I'm still deciding on. Anyhoo, monologues, yay (?)

This is currently a work-in-progress.

 " The Shadow Isles… Now… where do I begin? It feels like eons since I first met her. I’ll start from the beginning. I don’t even remember my name when I was among the living, I’m sure it was something meaningful, a strong name, like my mother always said. My profession involved artifacts and rare objects. You can call me a sort of pirate, for my methods of obtaining these said trinkets were… questionable, at best. My life in Bilgewater was becoming dull, you see. I hunted down paintings, ancient swords and enchanted armor for the rich fools who would pay out of the rear just for the opportunity to lay their filthy grip on these goods. The job paid well, I can’t complain. However, I wanted something more than just chasing worthless objects. I wanted power, you see. You can’t blame me, honestly. Ask yourself, if given the opportunity to obtain the power of gods, would you not seek it? That’s what piqued my interest in the Isles. I would hop from bar to bar listening to intoxicated tales of the Isles. I knew these sailors well, they were drunk as dogs but they wouldn’t lie. Every story sent shivers down my spine, electricity surged throughout my heart and my mind raced. My passion grew stronger when I heard the tale of the Ruined King. He left a blade forged in souls in his absence for unknown reasons. I knew I had to find this sword. Using all of the funds I could muster, legitimately and questionably, I set out across the dark sea towards the Isles. I braced black storms with piercing white lightning threatening to smite me where I stood on my ship. I slept through the moans and calls of the demons that lived under the pitch black skin of the sea. When my hope started to die out, when my soul started to ache and my will to live growing weaker and weaker, I finally caught the glimpse of her. How beautiful she was. In the distance, the glow of the Isles soothed my eyes, her dark emerald smoky shores beckoning me to come to her. I planted my feet upon the black sand. I had never seen such a beautiful world, a world devoid of the restrictions of life. I walked among the hollow spirits and shuffling dead, among the decayed trees with wicked grins carved into them. My heart told me I was home. All intentions of seeking the blade withered in me. All I wanted was to give myself to her, give myself to the Shadow Isles. They say that any normal mortal who sets foot upon the Isles faces the wrath of the undead, of the ghosts and demons that haunt every crevice of the shadowy mountains, the grim wolves that patrol the forests, seeking fresh meat, instantly devouring it without a moment’s hesitation. But, she did no such to me. She protected me. I don’t know why she chose me. But I knew that I belonged here, forever. Time passed and I soon was given the power as a gatherer of souls. I was a harvester and I must say that the feeling of controlling life and death filled me with joy. I felt like a god. I set sail on the ship she made just for me and I slaughtered innocents and grasped their warm souls in my hands, placing each one delicately in the lantern for the Chain Warden. I soon found myself questioning my existence. What was I? What had I become? I was once a gatherer of worldly objects but now I found myself taking souls of good men and their sweet wives, their children who had nothing to do with me. My god, the children… Their terrified eyes staring at me with raw fear as I drained the strength from their little hearts. I watched myself place small souls of babies in the lantern. And yet I felt no remorse, not a single shred of a human emotion. My mind wanted to break from her, but my soul was too darkened by her influence. I can’t escape now. I can’t help but feel the thirst to harvest. I can’t stop myself. Every day I find myself closer and closer to becoming a demon. And I am horrified since that time is most likely near. My humanity is gone. I am an animal. Does that even matter to me?! I find myself not caring anymore! I am a demon! I am a monster! Call me what you will, there is only thing that I know for certain: I will soon be one with my love, my true mother, my beautiful Shadow Isles. And in the name of the Ruined King, the Grand Harvest will begin, the hour when all life will be extinguished. And I promise that you will take part in it…"