Dripping with the blood of the denizens of Nightsound Ghulen, a single figure weaves drunkenly towards the heart of the Dark City. The last death caused almost overwhelmed him with pleasure, thus the uncertain steps, but to any foolish enough to think of stopping this blood bedecked figure they only need to look into the eyes that shine with blacklight, and the face truely devoid of sanity.
the winds (and the cries of those in pain) follow in his shadow, and before him a path steeped in destiny and agony - but one of those is not for him....
The cult of spattered blood begins here, in the footsteps of the one simply known, for now, as Gore.
(hey all - just started with a codex and some kabalite warriors and thought i should say hello... so hello!)