"Within the whispered darkness
of the night I hear her voice."
Drip
"And in the misty morning
the advent of daylight
I can taste the salt of her tears"
Drop
The Thunder is her screams
and the lightning
is the work of my claws
upon the canvas of her body."
Angelo di Desolation
Drip
My history
"The sound of her blood falling from his claws was like the staccato beat of a drum which could not be drowned out, and each feather which landed within the growing pools of crimson hit like a thunderclap.
Her screams of pain to this day echo within my mind and haunt my dreams."
Angelo di Misericordia
The air within the cathedrals' catacombs is cool and damp, thick with the cloying scents of death and decay you stand uneasy. With barely anything more than the feeble light of a few candles to cast away the darkness, within your mind it serves only to make your environs even more sinister...the darkness that much darker...and the unkown only more dangerous.
You'd heard word of a man whom was seeking out information, the kind which only a rare select few were privy to...the kind of information which could only be had by those whom had survived. So here you now stand before the man, the thing which had contacted you. Only can you really call him a man? His face and form hidden as they are beneath heavy robes of black with a deep cowl pulled low to hide all of his features save for the fevered glow within his eyes. And as that piercing gaze settles upon you your heart stops and you find yourself fighting to not simply turn tail and run.
"You have something for me...information...speak quickly ."
There is no wamrth within his voice, no kindness, though neither is it truly cold...But cautious...yes...that they might learn before he is ready. But most of all you can sense his hunger and his desire for the knoweldge which you possess....You greed begins to rise...And when you speak of your difficulty in getting here, and all of the perils which you have faced to make it thus far, the Catacomb doors slam closed...A sinister chuckle emenating from the hidden features shrouded within darkness.
The air about his ashen gray hands glowing an errie blue as arcs of electric energy begin to leap from finger to finger...Hungry for the life and vitality which can be taken to feed him.
"So, you wish to renegotiate...So be it...the information for your life...I hope you find that agreeable."