The Tormented

'Do you hear it?'

The ghastly hymns of the tormented that have been forced to succumb to depravity at the hands of the Unknown. O how they rejuvenated the soul of those whose souls were tainted with the malignant belief of transcendence! Listen to the amalgamated psalms of the entities who have been depraved of divinity; Hearken!

'Can you hear it now?'

He can; he who is referred to as the Blacksmith as his runic engravings remained etched upon the exterior of his hammer as it brought down the wrath of the Gods upon the enchanted anvil. Mystogus circulated throughout the room that forbid sunlight's entry, seeping through every narrow gap that proved to be oblivious to the human eye. The metal that overlapped the surface of the anvil cringed as it was hit with the full brunt of runic magick whose purpose was used to reinforce. 'Twas the job of the Blacksmith, to reinforce and intensify the parameters of items that would prove to be efficient within the heat of combat. The bladed object was lifted off of the anvil as malevolent aura radiated from its hilt. Silver was its coating, as a gaseous crimson was its emitted bloodlust--such were the components that made up the weapon. Instead of tossing it upon a rack, where numerous other weapons crafted by Deucalion rested, the Blacksmith impaled the grounding with the blade. A aforementioned crimson shaded smoke enveloped the room, as its contents were transmogrified; it cascaded the room in its malevolent aura only to change the purpose of its contents. Each item that was tainted with the traumatizing aura, that gave off consecutive shrieks from the metaphysical, rose from its original placement to levitate within the air with the crimson coating around its form.

Such activities of beauteous displays of magick were interrupted by a calling. A voice that bypassed the refreshing screams of the cursed and spiritually neglected. It was he who defied reality, the one who could command the Blacksmith. An ethereal flame illuminated as its ascension was halted at ceiling level before the incorporeal flame took on a spherical form as the Blacksmith's body dissipated upon his entering of the flame. The same spiraling flame appeared above the duo that occupied the crust of the planet as the Blacksmith's descent was performed. Leather soles connected with solid ground as his body rose from its crouching position.

"Sorry I'm late....Crafting got a little....Intense...."