You’ve been bitten by a true believer… you’ve been bitten by someone’s false beliefs…
Deep red eyes stared out at the crowd, of which was decorated in deep blacks, purples, and reds. Beneath the hoods, a similar red glare could be spotted, of which matched the look of the man on the pedestal speaking out to his followers. Though, his hood was unique–it had the likeness of a spider, which described this man perfectly of course.
Salder Voidborne, with a scroll laid out in front of him, grinned happily. Everything was falling into place. He licked his lips, giving a light, satisfied laugh. As if he was a performer on stage, he gave a bow and shouted, “Our research has come to fruition, my subjects! The scourge will rise again, under a new power. The only answer is end times. The only solution is the void. The scourge will reap the living and give their suffering as an offering to the never ending darkness. We will bask in the benefits of the power our glorious gods give us. The only true way to exist is to give into undeath! We are the natural state! The living will perish before us! Only a few will be spared to feed our never ending hunger, like cattle will they be raised, whereas the rest will either be sacrificed to the void or join us as well! What better to show our appreciation for our newfound power than to offer a sacrifice to the glorious leaders?!”
The crowd went wild, pumping the air with their right fists, each of which held obsidian knives in the curl of their fingers. The cultists parted to reveal a male elven paladin, of whom was shirtless–and for a good reason. He had deep, glowing lacerations scattered across his flesh, as if he’d been whipped several times. Said wounds glowed with dark energy, most definitely that of the void. He was brought before Salder, of whom seemed to glide over and gave a cackle. The prisoner glared up at him, baring his teeth and seeming unwavering.
“You fiends will be destroyed by the light. The heroes of Azeroth have prevailed time and time again, and your end will be no different,” the man snarled, making sure to follow this with a spit to Salder’s face. The spider-hooded cultist would allow the drop of drool to glide down his cheek, not paying much attention to it. Rather, he merely grinned and shook his head.
“Where is your light now to save you, hm? Your light will be put out by our masters. All light fizzles out eventually. But darkness is eternal,” Salder hummed. With that, he withdrew a knife from under his robes, raising it above the man. The crowd looked on eagerly, wondering what could happen… Salder began to chant, his form wavering and swaying as he does so. The sky darkened and the sounds of thousands of tormented, innocent souls filled the air. For the first time in his life, the paladin showed fear in the whites of his eyes. And rightfully so, of course.
For from the knife dripped out an odd substance. Its viscosity was that of honey, and it began to pool on the paladin’s stomach. The substance was completely black, and seeped into the lacerations that littered the man’s flesh. Nothing happened for a good minute or so… until the artificial screams seemed to stop, replaced by the sound of one voice shrieking in agony. The paladin opened his mouth, his body jolting and twisting into unnatural positions. His back arced and his elbows bent the wrong way… his head twisted a whole 360 degrees before his jaw snapped open, clearly breaking itself and ripping his cheeks in the process. From deep within his throat crawled out thousands upon thousands of tiny, shadowy spiders. But his mouth was not the exclusive exit for these horrific abominations. You see, his eyes began to bleed shadowy spiders as well, followed by his ears, followed by his scars. Soon enough the paladin was writhing in sheer torture as the shadowy spiders began to eat away at every bit of his flesh. From within, the paladin’s mind was being bombarded by whispers of the old ones, and both his mind and body were being ripped apart at the same time.
The ritual completed, and the sacrifice was nothing but a puddle of black blood upon the ground. Even the remainder of his armor had been consumed by the void. The spiders combined and seemed to melt into a puddle. The liquid seeped back to Salder, seeming to absorb into him. The void priest froze a moment, taking in the power as his form snapped back, his back bending into an L position very unnaturally. During this, he threw his head back and began to gurgle and laugh. When this completed, his posture returned to normal, and he regarded his followers.
“Sacrifices please the gods. We need the chosen ones to take their place as true prophets of the void. We must convert those we can to our cause… and sacrifice the unworthy. So say I, the Darkbringer. Our Cult will rise and consume this world. The age of the spider is upon us. So say I!”
The crowd of cultists roared in approval, raising their knives and slicing into the palms of their hand, allowing blood to pool into the center of the ritual area. The crimson liquid darkened until it was completely black, and then seemed to evaporate. It appeared as though their benefactor appreciated the sacrifices it was offered…