Private Tales Machinations of a Drow Lord

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Three hours have passed since he began the tedious effort of creating a suitable killing machine, his efforts were not unfounded. Blazh stitched together half a dozen humanoid bodies of various species, sculpting the communal flesh like clay, mutating and disfiguring it as his mind saw fit. The end result was glorious, to say the least.


Menacing, slavering creature. It was large with bony limbs. The creature’s forelimbs were rather lanky compared to the rest of the body, and the back legs were short. The creature had what appeared to be two long, clawed fingers at the end of its forelimbs, but it probably crawled on its knuckles. It had tiny hair on its knuckles and backs of its fingers, which were covered in smaller hairs. It also had small spikes extruding from the knuckles and the base of its hind feet. From its stomach grew two more arms, probably used for actually eating the prey. The head appeared to be a solid sphere, but it opened its jaw extremely wide to let out a snarl, unfolding its head almost like an onion and revealing rows and rows of yellow teeth. The creature had a retractable inner jaw that acted as a proboscis, like a hydraulic piston it could shoot out with sufficient force to penetrate even granite stone, injecting the target with a lethal dose of fast acting, flesh dissolving enzyme. Its eyes appeared soulless, as they glowed a white color.

Despite it's relatively lanky limbs, it was a resilient organism. With powerful sinews rippling across its trunk, the rope-thick tendons allowed it to exert a great deal of strength, enough to crush metal plating like paper and leap to great heights, scaling vertical surfaces much like a spider would.


On the backside, above the hip bone, the creature possessed several dorsal spines on its back, consisting of two pairs — a larger upper pair and a smaller lower pair — with a fifth, sharper spine in the center below the base of the head. The exact purpose of these tubes was unclear, but the creator likely had some sinister agenda in his mind when he decided to construct them.

The creature possessed a self-destructive mechanism in the form of a biomechanical bomb, a large circular chamber within its chest filled with explosive sludge that could either be remotely detonated or would detonate automatically if the creature was extremely close to dying. Gods knew, Blazh didn't want some wayward fools to get their filthy and grubby little hands on one of his special designs.

Blazh admired the best with a sense of pride, stepping a few meters away from it. “Arise, my immaculate creation.” With a simple verbal command, the beast tore of its restraints as if they weren't even present to begin with. It smashed the gigantic metallic table like it was made from low resistance styrofoam. It's form stood hunched over, ever so slightly masking its height. If it dared stand up, it would easily be around 4 meters tall.

It released a soul shattering, bone chilling roar of madness. It was nothing like human speech or bird song, but more of a raw sound that started deep within it's body and was projected into the air with so much force that it would be heard for miles around. The sound itself had a strange, vibrational quality that was physically palpable. Creating a low powered shockwave that would make a living person feel tingles going down their spine.

The creature seemed obedient, for now at least, lowering its head before Blazh like some sort of grotesque dog; only for the humanoid male to reach down and give it an affectionate scratch, seemingly rewarding it for it's.... commendable behavior this far.

Blazh retracted his hands and clapped them together, only for the creature to stand up a little, not being at its full height, but still towering over Blazh by good 90 or so centimeters.

“And what about you, haven't you fallen asleep yet? You've been standing there for hours, sit down, rest those pretty elven legs of yours.” The comment was directed at the female drow, with a slightly genuine undertone.

Trevan Soithiel
 
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