Diablo: The Mark of Kabraxis
Since the beginning of time, the angelic hosts of the High Heavens and the demonic hordes of the Burning Hells have been locked in a struggle for the fate of all Creation. That struggle has now come to the mortal realm... and neither Man nor Demon nor Angel will be left unscathed...
Taken from the records of priest Buyard Cholik - head of the courier division of the Zakarum church of Westmarch. Earlier records of Buyard Cholik were destroyed in the Great Fire that consumed half of the northern region, along with most of the church's libraries.
Sanctuary. Peaceful... primitive. The hour grows late, and my candle dim. So, let me make haste. I hold oath to the demon I wish to resurrect - Kabraxis. It has been said since the dawn of time that he who take sides with demons has turned his back on divinity. Now, here is a point I can argue. Divinity can be achieved through mind, body, and spirit. Were my mind, body, and spirit in a place that provides a pseudo-psychological happiness that demoralizes my idea of something truly DIVINE - then I would have achieved divinity. But, that is not the point. The point is: I am in need of a new body. And, to achieve that goal I must find someone or some THING that has the power to make me young and whole again. Had I stumbled across these documents at a younger age, I might not have understood their meaning. But, being as old and knowledgeable as I am - I was able to interpret the Ancient Texts and bind them into a grail.
The grail reads as follows:
"One who follows the demon. Nay, call upon me to wither your sorrow.
If and when you are to acclaim, be silent... still.
Do not culturize the meanings of these texts.
Dysentary and disease will follow those who do not take heed... hence.
Aelvis el luminodo kalaih - Diva vara, mous kaiman farah. Orrutah vael stave hoy.
Speak the words of the Ancients, and break the bonds that keep me from the planes of Sanctuary."
I move now to find the Mark of my demon. For in the Burning Hells he carves for me his insignia... a fine display of trust. Kabraxis shall seek to dispell the magic of the Angels whilst I seek to fulfill my corruption. For it is in the palm of my hand that I see fit which mortals are to live, and which are to die. The girth of this land shall be born anew, and demons shall poison the minds of the righteous. That is the task that my demon has appointed me... destruction.
My motives grow stronger as I strive to resurrect my demon. However, I grow weaker. May it not be my mentality, but my physicality. I can barely walk without flinching. Whence I go to cast a spell, I find myself spasming violently, coming to near unconciousness. The Ancient Texts say nothing of a healing spell, so I am left nude in the dark.
Occasionally, the voices in my head encourage me to do something completely against my will. They are often criminalistic deeds - deeds that require my ability to divert the attention of the church whilst I go out at night and brutally murder some innocent being. There is no complexion as to the nature of my crimes, but the style of each varies significantly. With each victim I leave the mark of my demon, Kabraxis, as a reminder of the apocalypse that will soon follow.
A Sorceress clan is moving northward. Their Oracle, Sydelle, might have foreseen my intentions in her crystal orb, and they move to strike me and my corrupted brethren. They are easily dealt with.
Gavin Hoske, the leader of the church, has sent me, on my request, to live in a private missionary for eighteen months. It is there that I can conduct the research required in order to bring Kabraxis to the mortal planes.
My demons grow stronger... and I succumb to them - spiraling downward in a theological war path. There is no going back... ever.
I made a remarkable discovery today while scanning the Ancient Texts - I can control my demon. It requires an immense amount of integrity and homage, but if I focus well enough, I can possess my demon and force him into doing my bidding. I have found this FAR more useful than my original plan of begging the demon to make me young and whole again, swearing my allegiance to him in life and death.
I am constantly scanning the texts for a healing spell, some thing to mediate my current state. My search has been in vain - there is no cure for the effect that the spells leave on me. Only time can heal them, and I do not have time.
My arms are heavily tattooed with the mark of my demon. I shall use them to woe the demon into a more humble state whence I bring him into the world of Sanctuary.
I have come farther than any of my companions, and the time has come to bring my demon forth. I shall recite the spells that bind me to the demon, and if I should fail - I pray for a quick death.
Since the beginning of time, the angelic hosts of the High Heavens and the demonic hordes of the Burning Hells have been locked in a struggle for the fate of all Creation. That struggle has now come to the mortal realm... and neither Man nor Demon nor Angel will be left unscathed...
Taken from the records of priest Buyard Cholik - head of the courier division of the Zakarum church of Westmarch. Earlier records of Buyard Cholik were destroyed in the Great Fire that consumed half of the northern region, along with most of the church's libraries.
Sanctuary. Peaceful... primitive. The hour grows late, and my candle dim. So, let me make haste. I hold oath to the demon I wish to resurrect - Kabraxis. It has been said since the dawn of time that he who take sides with demons has turned his back on divinity. Now, here is a point I can argue. Divinity can be achieved through mind, body, and spirit. Were my mind, body, and spirit in a place that provides a pseudo-psychological happiness that demoralizes my idea of something truly DIVINE - then I would have achieved divinity. But, that is not the point. The point is: I am in need of a new body. And, to achieve that goal I must find someone or some THING that has the power to make me young and whole again. Had I stumbled across these documents at a younger age, I might not have understood their meaning. But, being as old and knowledgeable as I am - I was able to interpret the Ancient Texts and bind them into a grail.
The grail reads as follows:
"One who follows the demon. Nay, call upon me to wither your sorrow.
If and when you are to acclaim, be silent... still.
Do not culturize the meanings of these texts.
Dysentary and disease will follow those who do not take heed... hence.
Aelvis el luminodo kalaih - Diva vara, mous kaiman farah. Orrutah vael stave hoy.
Speak the words of the Ancients, and break the bonds that keep me from the planes of Sanctuary."
I move now to find the Mark of my demon. For in the Burning Hells he carves for me his insignia... a fine display of trust. Kabraxis shall seek to dispell the magic of the Angels whilst I seek to fulfill my corruption. For it is in the palm of my hand that I see fit which mortals are to live, and which are to die. The girth of this land shall be born anew, and demons shall poison the minds of the righteous. That is the task that my demon has appointed me... destruction.
My motives grow stronger as I strive to resurrect my demon. However, I grow weaker. May it not be my mentality, but my physicality. I can barely walk without flinching. Whence I go to cast a spell, I find myself spasming violently, coming to near unconciousness. The Ancient Texts say nothing of a healing spell, so I am left nude in the dark.
Occasionally, the voices in my head encourage me to do something completely against my will. They are often criminalistic deeds - deeds that require my ability to divert the attention of the church whilst I go out at night and brutally murder some innocent being. There is no complexion as to the nature of my crimes, but the style of each varies significantly. With each victim I leave the mark of my demon, Kabraxis, as a reminder of the apocalypse that will soon follow.
A Sorceress clan is moving northward. Their Oracle, Sydelle, might have foreseen my intentions in her crystal orb, and they move to strike me and my corrupted brethren. They are easily dealt with.
Gavin Hoske, the leader of the church, has sent me, on my request, to live in a private missionary for eighteen months. It is there that I can conduct the research required in order to bring Kabraxis to the mortal planes.
My demons grow stronger... and I succumb to them - spiraling downward in a theological war path. There is no going back... ever.
I made a remarkable discovery today while scanning the Ancient Texts - I can control my demon. It requires an immense amount of integrity and homage, but if I focus well enough, I can possess my demon and force him into doing my bidding. I have found this FAR more useful than my original plan of begging the demon to make me young and whole again, swearing my allegiance to him in life and death.
I am constantly scanning the texts for a healing spell, some thing to mediate my current state. My search has been in vain - there is no cure for the effect that the spells leave on me. Only time can heal them, and I do not have time.
My arms are heavily tattooed with the mark of my demon. I shall use them to woe the demon into a more humble state whence I bring him into the world of Sanctuary.
I have come farther than any of my companions, and the time has come to bring my demon forth. I shall recite the spells that bind me to the demon, and if I should fail - I pray for a quick death.