Morphius
The Merchant of Misery
Born to a normal family of the middle class. Named Mortimer Scovet, and surrounded by an older brother, and two younger sisters. My brother left the family when I was ten, leaving to serve the purposes of a local warlock. He was a fast learner, and soon mastered his craft well. Time passed, and my younger sisters become of age, and were married off to rich merchants sons. I was left alone, and nearing the age of 22, my time had come to explore the world.

Leaving the comfort of my family, and throwing a pack across his back, I set off to find my fortune. Destiny arrived quickly, my first night alone in fact. Camping in the black shadows of a errie forest, I was attacked by a creature of vampyric origin. My brother(Who has changed his name to BlackSoul at this time. More befitting his new found place among the powerful warlocks) had mastered the state of immortality. I had mastered it too, although not by choice. The bite of the creature, and it's carelessness by allowing me to live, had altered my life forever.

My physical changes were only the start, as I felt the mental changes taking place. Unable to think for myself, as now I became the messenger of the Dark Ones. Memories of my past still stayed, no matter what was tried by the dark to rip them free of my mind. I was now the Dark Messenger, and my only goal was to do the dirty deeds of my masters. I set traps for the innocent, and layed long trails for the the fragil, and pure to follow to their own destruction. I followed the commands I was given, and reaped the few lives given to me for my own vampyric thirsts. With each deed finished, and the screams fresh in my mind, I grew more desperate. I hated the life I lead, and would give anything to escape to the peace of death.

My Dark Masters knew of my desires to escape, and felt I was untrustworthy, as their servant. I was sold into Beware, and used in the same evil manner here, as in my former realm. My new Dark Lord locked me in the deepest of pits, and stayed at my side day, and night. He chanted, and raved, poured the foulest of potions down my gullet, as I was subjected to the most painful of rituals. I was pounded for a month constantly with the darkest of spells. Fatigue forced my eyes closed many times during these dark hours, and angered my Lord to no end. He cut my eyelids from my eyes, to prevent me from sleeping, as I was engulfed in his mystic powers.

I was finally set free from the pit, and was renewed in his power. I was the Dark Messenger, able to see with ease in any darkness, owner of new oversized canines, capable of ripping thru the hardest of metals and armor , to feed. I as totally immune to all forms of magic, and spells. I was the perfect messenger for my Dark Lord, as I was able to enter anywhere, and move thru any warding, and spell cast. My torment of my past life was ereased, and a dark humor placed within me, in it's stead. I was able to perform all asked of me, without hesitation, as I no longer felt remorse. Talons rendered flesh, as canines feasted. Black desires took over, as well layed plans lead many in Beware to painful appointments. Deceit, and treachery became my craft, as I served my Lord well, but the memories slowly returned.

My nights filled with raids, and traps on the inhabitants of the realm. My days filled with fitful sleep, and anguish, as my past played heavy in my mind. I was looking for escape once more, and was desperate to find it. One night, when my Dark Lord was away, I slipped into his chambers. I stole the enchanted dagger he used for his evil incantations, and fled from the castle, and into the deep region of the darkforest. Alone and in mental collapse, as the pain of the past, and my deeds filled my head, I used the dagger's magic. I took my life, letting it spill to the forest floor, from the dagger's blade. As the darkness fell over me, even my lidless eyes could not pierce it's void, and breath grew shallow. Release was at hand, and my misery about to end, or so I thought...

"I will continue this tale later, as I hear dinner approach from above"

burping, as he pulls the finger bone from his canine. lidless eyes look to his story, and he pulls the quill from the well once more...

Unknown to me, as I lay dying, my brother BlackSoul was in the realm looking for me. He had heard the tales of my suffering, and changes. Feeling he had grown powerful enought to help me, he had come looking for his vampyric brother. Questioning many, and finding no answers to my whereabouts, he kept searching. The dark humor of the gods brought us together on that fateful night. BlackSoul found me laying on the forest floor. Tears welled in his eyes, as he lifted my cold body to his chest, and carried me deeper into the forest. finding a small clearing, he layed me down, and began buiolding a fire. The flames soon roared to life, as he drew the symbols of the dark one's about me, and cut their words into my flesh. Incantations filled the night air, as BlackSoul beseeched the evil ones of the dark to restore my life.

The Dark Gods are a hateful group, and revel in their dark deeds of agony, and pain. They spoke to my brother, and told him what must be done. He obeyed without question, and was rewarded beyond his own expectations, with their evil intentions. The dagger stolen from my Dark Lord was used in their physical ritual, and the results were astonishing. BlackSoul laid the blade across his own chest, and cut deep, as instructed by the Dark Ones. Bleeding, raked by pain, he laid the blade to my chest, and cut deep. Weakened, as he tried to chant the words given, and falling over my body. His blood mixed with my own, as the low, dark grumblings of the Dark could be heard. Their voices, their words surrounding our bodies, as my brother grew weaker, and I felt a stirring within.

pausing for a minute, as the pressure of a boil growing on his nutsack, pulls his attention downwards. reaching below his robe, and finding the painful festering pocket. squeezing hard, as the pain arouses his senses. his member grows hard, as the oozing core shoots down his leg, a ball of oil, puss, and hair. relieved, as his member continues to grow beneath his robe, and feeling for the small ball of fleshy filth. finding the core, as it sticks to his leg, and examining it's beauty thru lidless eyes. popping the small morsel into his mouth, as he savors the texture, and thinking back to his resurrection in the forest. clearing his head, and pondering the words he will write next, as he settles back, and thinks...

leaning forwards once more, and finishing his tale...

My brother's blood flowed into me, filling me with a stirring for life once more. His life force entered into me, waking me from my eternal slumber. The Dark one's had had their way once more. They had used my brother to bring me back, to do their bidding. I remember rising from the floor of the forest, and feeling the briefest of regrets, as I saw my brother laying before me. I was alive, and a new torment was about to befall me, as the Dark one's spoke to me. " Morphius , we set thee free, as you will be your own instrument of destruction, and no longer need our guidance".

The words burned in my mind, as a new hunger tore at my gut. My stomach was on fire, and the pain almost unbearable. The thirst for blood was agony alone, but now this new pain, the desire to taste flesh. The thought disgusted even the likes of one such as I, but the pain was overwhelming. A new addiction, and no relief in sight, except for... I will not explain the events that followed, as they are to painful for me. I left the forest, and found my way back to the castle. Moving to the catacombs, and building a lair.

I am Morphius , the Merchant of Misery . I am the thing that dwells in the catacombs, and hunts from beneath the castle floor. I am the bringer of pain, death, and mutilation. I have no earthly magic, and stand before A/all who do, in total immunity. I can't be touched by magic, or spell. I possess no weapons except cunning, speed, talons, and canines. When the hunger comes, the pain will drive me to any length to feed. I thirst for your blood, and hunger for your flesh. I don't know the difference between dark, or light meat. I will devour any, or all. My only defenses are my dark humor, as the memories are still present of my past. Laugh at me if you must, but keep your distance, I never know when the hunger will strike.

One night a month, as the first full moon comes to the realm. I take on one last change for 24 hours. But that is another tale, and my hunger starts to burn. I'm off to the castle now, this tale finished... Beware ...