Greater Daemons of Dracul 15
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Omake: Greater Daemons of Dracul 15
Warning: Unauthorized reading of this document will be punished with immediate execution.
Time: 6:21 AM Holy Terran Standard
Location: Starship Emperor's Fist.
Purpose: Information
Patron: Inquisitor Maximan. Ordo Hereticus
Begin Transmission
Quote of the day: Lives are the Emperor's currency. Spend them wisely.
Olera the Mourning Bride: Many are the woes that consume the galaxy. The constant strife that covers contested worlds. The poverty and despair of those who dwell on the Hive worlds. The apathy and lethargy of the nobility. The world weariness of the men and women of our forces. None more so however are as consuming as the power of grief. All in this millennium know someone who has been lost in one way or another. All have felt the weight of sorrow and pain in their hearts. Naturally the dark powers would seek to prey on this feeling.
A new greater daemon of Dracul had been sighted. The following is the information I have been able to gather on it. Once again there is no guarantee this information is the full extent of it or even fully accurate.
Olera is a strange creature. Like all of the higher daemons that her master favors she is handcrafted. Designed from the ground up in a way to fill an intended role. One that she fills well bringing many lost souls to her lord. She is crafted to prey on the sorrow that all men feel and exploit it. Twist it into something terrible and leave them easy prey.
She is a giant of a human woman. Spectral in form floating just above the ground. Her pale form covered in a long show white dress that fades into wispy tails. A silvery corset wrapped around her waist. Upon her face a veil falls covering her features. A pair of pale gold horns curving up from her head. A pair of tendrils falling to the sides with black flowers upon them along her dress. In one hand similar flowers make a bleak bouquet. In the other a tattered silver mourning bell. From beneath her veil fall tears of silver and constant cries of sorrow.
Her greatest power is that of her aura. It drives even the strongest of mortal men to the depths of despair. Bawling their eyes and lungs out while clawing away at their own flesh in misery. Reaching for many kilometers around she breaks battle lines without firing a shot. Her flowers litter an endless supply of petals that cut through the strongest armor with just a brush. Her bell rings and summons forth spirits of the dead to act for her. All too often those who have taken their own lives because of her.
Around her dance her attendants. Spirits caught in the throes of despair. Dancing in slumping moves and shedding their own tears with mouths agape to form endless wailing cries of sorrow. Mourning all that they had lost and their own fates while crying of the hopelessness of it all. When they come close they tear into victims with claws and blades as cold as the grave itself. Looking to add to their numbers.
@Alucard Vampiry
Warning: Unauthorized reading of this document will be punished with immediate execution.
Time: 6:21 AM Holy Terran Standard
Location: Starship Emperor's Fist.
Purpose: Information
Patron: Inquisitor Maximan. Ordo Hereticus
Begin Transmission
Quote of the day: Lives are the Emperor's currency. Spend them wisely.
Olera the Mourning Bride: Many are the woes that consume the galaxy. The constant strife that covers contested worlds. The poverty and despair of those who dwell on the Hive worlds. The apathy and lethargy of the nobility. The world weariness of the men and women of our forces. None more so however are as consuming as the power of grief. All in this millennium know someone who has been lost in one way or another. All have felt the weight of sorrow and pain in their hearts. Naturally the dark powers would seek to prey on this feeling.
A new greater daemon of Dracul had been sighted. The following is the information I have been able to gather on it. Once again there is no guarantee this information is the full extent of it or even fully accurate.
Olera is a strange creature. Like all of the higher daemons that her master favors she is handcrafted. Designed from the ground up in a way to fill an intended role. One that she fills well bringing many lost souls to her lord. She is crafted to prey on the sorrow that all men feel and exploit it. Twist it into something terrible and leave them easy prey.
She is a giant of a human woman. Spectral in form floating just above the ground. Her pale form covered in a long show white dress that fades into wispy tails. A silvery corset wrapped around her waist. Upon her face a veil falls covering her features. A pair of pale gold horns curving up from her head. A pair of tendrils falling to the sides with black flowers upon them along her dress. In one hand similar flowers make a bleak bouquet. In the other a tattered silver mourning bell. From beneath her veil fall tears of silver and constant cries of sorrow.
Her greatest power is that of her aura. It drives even the strongest of mortal men to the depths of despair. Bawling their eyes and lungs out while clawing away at their own flesh in misery. Reaching for many kilometers around she breaks battle lines without firing a shot. Her flowers litter an endless supply of petals that cut through the strongest armor with just a brush. Her bell rings and summons forth spirits of the dead to act for her. All too often those who have taken their own lives because of her.
Around her dance her attendants. Spirits caught in the throes of despair. Dancing in slumping moves and shedding their own tears with mouths agape to form endless wailing cries of sorrow. Mourning all that they had lost and their own fates while crying of the hopelessness of it all. When they come close they tear into victims with claws and blades as cold as the grave itself. Looking to add to their numbers.
@Alucard Vampiry
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