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DOGS OF WAR
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Over a millennia ago, Odious' curse was proclaimed, he spoke of a plague that would take from all lands alike. And it came. It thundered down as brethren wailed and became sick in the night, faces marred with greed for suddenly an overwhelming lust grew from within. That's the way with war; swords unsheathe as battle fields become tainted red and lingers on even after a victor stands forth. The trajectory of every mortal's soul at his will and with it a creature surfaces from the dead, carrying a temptation too big to deny. Rampant with thirst, terror dawns.
The beast's hunger racked from within, each passing moment increased the ache that consumed everything in its wake, turning everyone into enemies for they were harbouring that vital fluid that was believed to be theirs. Bodies became nothing but a vessel of blood and bones to feast upon. At the beginning, long before, they may have feigned to have been merciful in their conquests but now they believed the flesh of the living to be a sin, for it was seen as a defiance and they will not stop until all wrists bleed in docility.
