Chapter Text
It is said in tales of old that forneus used to be a praised alchemist in his home of thabes, but after losing his wife he became obsessed with the concept of raising the dead. Soon he became lost in his madness and in his grief. In his experiments with the dead he created a new creature that acted as a parasite in the bodies of the deceased. With the creation of these thanatophages and the death masks, he was able to assert control over the dead and have them do his bidding. The council of thabes took notice of the missing populace around forneus’ labyrinth and after an intense investigation sealed the man away in the catacombs with the unholy beings he had created.
Before his imprisonment, the alchemist had attained a vial of the great goddess naga’s holy blood. He had also had his army of thanatophages hunt and kill naga’s children to collect more research material. With this, he performed an alchemic ceremony where he fused his magic, he and his late wife’s blood, and the blood of naga and her children with other grisly spell components. No one knows what he was attempting to create, but the result of this sacrilegious act birthed the first of the fell blood. The creature began its life as small as the palm of its creator’s wretched hands. As forneus fed it his lifeblood, the squirming creature began to grow and resemble a draconic being. One day it opened its six pairs of red eyes to gaze upon its creator. The alchemist could of sworn it gave him a toothy smile. As it grew, its six wings became strong enough to lift itself off the ground. The beast had angular curled horns beside its draconic maw and inky black feathers that shone like oil. Its slender neck and back were plated with a dark scale like carapace. Their feathered tail would sweep the floor of the ruins as it eagerly followed forneus everywhere he went.
It soon became eerily clear to the crazed man that the creature had incredible intellect, learning and growing as a human child would. He would hear its voice rumbling in his head, questioning the whys and hows of everything around it. And so forneus taught it everything it wished to know including magic and his craft. The beast took to it like a fish to water, excelling in the art of dark magic. The young wyrmling grew and grew with every taste of its creator’s life essence on its tongue. Soon it was the size of a full sized drake, still stumbling over its six taloned feet to scamper after him. Forneus began to plan his revenge on thabes and the council. With the fellblood wyrm he christened ‘the creation’ he would destroy the civilization that turned their backs on him and locked him away. And so, the tests and experiments on the creation began. The wyrm was forced to fight in all sorts of scenarios and had a penchant for destruction as well. The creature’s pained wails rung in his head as he conducted test after test. Despite its pleas for its father to stop harming it, the man continued onwards. The beast was merely a tool to be used as means to an end after all. Such an unsightly creature could never be fit to be his child anyways.
One day after another feeding of blood, the fell beast made its way into his alchemist chambers on shaky human legs. They resembled an adolescent adult, with a long mop of messy white hair that matched his own. They retained their six eyes, their horns, wings and tail. The creature gurgled an attempt at speech before correcting itself in thabeian. “Father. I have changed my form so I am not as unsightly to you. Now you will surely recognize me as your child.”
Forneus furiously demanded how the beast knew of his thoughts. “Fell one, how do you know of this?!” The drake in human skin cocked its head in a facsimile of curiosity. It turned its head too far in one direction giving an uncanny chill down the alchemist’s spine at the gesture.
“Every time I feed from you I see your thoughts father.” The man hissed under his breath. The wyrm was too smart for its own good, he would have to stop feeding it his own blood and procure a new source for its nourishment.
And so, forneus offered the beast the rotten blood of the risen instead. They were long dead so surely no thoughts and feelings would remain in the controlled husks. Or so he had thought. The wyrm in human skin began to wear its mortal disguise more and more often much to the mage’s chagrin. It also began questioning him of the outside world with knowledge it should not have access to. He began to have philosophical debates with the creature as he ran tests on both its forms.
One day the fell one cornered him in its human form. “Father, why do you put me through such brutish experiments? What are you planning? Why have you killed all these people?”
He refused to answer, for the beast already questioned too much. “That’s none of your concern worm. Know your place and stay out of my way.” Before he could react, the wyrm reached out with a clawed hand and swiped at his skin. It brought bloodied claws to its lips and began partake on its creator’s inner thoughts.
The drake flinched hard, and scrambled away from him making to flee. But it was too late, forneus had already cast the restraining spell and cuffed the beast with blessed chains. The creature wailed and cried for its release but the alchemist would have none of it. And so began the torturous years of the creation’s young life. No matter what form he took the chains grew with him and he could not free himself. Adoration and respect for his father became fear and hatred of the wretched man. Forneus ran all sorts of tests and experiments on the wyrm. He tested its regenerative abilities by severing its limbs. Tested its limits against holy spells and artifacts that burned its pale skin. Even tried forcing dominion over it by placing those cursed parasites inside its body. All the the fell blood knew was the agony and cruelty inflicted by its creator. Despite the alchemist’s attempts, he could not gain control of the fell beast. So he made a plan. If he spilled the creation’s lifeblood into the stone of the door which sealed them away, the powerful blood may just be enough to shatter the protection of the sage’s shield. And so he pierced the wyrm’s fragile human heart and left it to bleed into the cold rotting stone. Miraculously, the powerful fell blood was just enough to break forneus’ bonds. The man ordered his thanatophages to wreak havoc on the ancient city of thabes.
It was a massacre. No one was prepared for the threat the alchemist and his undead horde posed. However the massive bloodshed above trickled down to the creation’s shuddering weak body. With each death the wyrm’s strength grew as did its draconic form’s size. The cries of the people rang in its ears, their dying thoughts and feelings overwhelming them. With a agonized shriek they shifted into their draconic form, which quickly outgrew the confines of both their bonds and the labyrinth itself. With an ear shattering explosion, the wyrm’s large horned head broke through the rubble of the now destroyed labyrinth. It shrieked and screamed as it wriggled to the surface and flared its six enormous wings in the acrid desert air. It swung it’s fanged maw towards where forneus marched with his undead army. Hatred burned in their six eyes as it made its way through the rubble of thabes to confront its creator.
Upon hearing the draconic wails forneus snapped his head back in the labyrinth’s direction, only to see a dark looming shadow taking flight in his direction. For the first time in a long while, he felt fear clutch at his heart as the beast was now upon him. He tried to cast a spell but it simply bounced off the thick black scaled carapace of the creation’s neck. With a deep exhale the wyrm breathed wretched black and purple fire upon forneus and his army, utterly destroying them. The last thing the alchemist saw was those hatred filled eyes and a familiar voice booming in his skull.
“I am the wings of despair. I am the breath of ruin. I am the fell dragon grima.”