Sophrus — Roleplayer Guild

Unyat


Unyat raised himself from his slumber, coiling his body underneath him to support his weight. Trying to banish the horrific images from his mind. The lance of pain already seceding. The Nglui seem restless and are raising quite a frustrated clamor, although it may be because they did not eat yesterday.

'Silence!' shouts Unyat in his mind, pouring a tiny trickle of magic towards the Nglui. Their reaction is to cower from him as though he is some god to them. 

Unyat tries to meditate but the vision of the iron gate floods his mind every time he closes his eyes. This memory comes with a brief stab of pain into the recesses of his minds. Unyat gives up in frustration and eyes a subtly glowing vial, a soft blue light emanates from the vial. The glow comes from angel tears, to Unyat they are a mild narcotic to dull the madness that comes from contemplating the unknowable. Angel tears may be used for something else or effect others differently, Unyat never cared enough investigate. After some thought Unyat decided 'No, my mind must be unfettered to investigate this curiosity.' The gate must reside very deep in the catacombs, for they do not seem familiar. 

Unyat opens his Tome, the book filled with his magical calculations and incomplete theories. When all else fails, the Tome is his comfort. His solace is often found in decoding the secrets of Pandaemonium or the lost rituals of his long dead gods. As Unyat flips through his tome he comes to a page that strikes his interest. 'Now, that is an idea I could use a hand for this task.' He begins rereading his notes on necromancy and reanimation. Over the next hour or so he works on the ritual he would need to create some temporary slave or golem. It wouldn't last for more than a few days before the magic dissipated. Once he settles on the execution he goes looking for a victim in the catacombs.

A simple task to find a seldom traveled rout in the catacombs but often enough that Unyat does not wait long. He finds a luckless victim, a bulky but lesser demon. Unyat prepares his attack while the demon approaches, it should only take a moment. The magic boils violently in Unyat's mind as he holds it ready to unleash on the foe. Just as the demon passes in front on the passage Unyat it hiding in, he unleashes the magic quickly as a crushing assault on the demon's mind. With no more than a yelp of surprise the demon goes slack jawed and collapses to the floor, his mind utterly destroyed leaving no more than a hollow shell. Unyat sighs at the rush of energy out of him feeling a dull tiredness spread through out his body, as though he had finished some great physical effort. He reaches out with his many tendrils grasping the corpse and dragging it into a near by alcove that should offer him sufficient privacy for his black ritual. 

He holds the head of the corpse and begins to carve graven runes into its head and face to prepare for the ritual, chanting all the while.

“gtrah iru ftagn,
gtrah iru ftagn,
gtrah iru ftagn,
Iah, Iah, Iah, Iah!”

The magic begins to roil in his mind again, but it feels thick and unclean like having tar poured into his skull. An angel, or even perhaps a demon, would recoil in revulsion from this magic. Old Ones do not fear these black rituals for they are older than Pandaemonium itself. As the ritual begins to reach its climax the energy being held to fuel it begins beat against Unyat's mind brutally, as though it has a will of its own. Many eons of working with these secrets has braced Unyat from such assaults. 

“gtrah iru ftagn,
gtrah iru ftagn,
gtrah iru ftagn,
IAH, IAH, IAH, IAH!”

as the magic floods out of him the runes carved into the demons head begin to glow and steam. The flesh on the corpse's head begins to burn, boil, and rot away leaving nothing but bleached bone. As the ash and steam clear the creature stands slightly unsteady on its feet. 

“I am Unyat, I am your master”
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