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- Dec 26, 2009
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Tee.dubs made the http://www.hiveworkshop.com/forums/models-530/blind-beast-159688/ model, but didn't have any story for it. He asked for one, so I slapped one together. Here it is:
After several hours of hacking through the dense forests of the region, Kent and his faithful dog, Scar, made it to the cave. Rumors of horrid monsters, who possessed squid-like faces and dark magic, had come to Kent from the local population. He had been promised a hefty bounty if he entered the cave and found the truth of the same rumors. There was nothing strange about the cave entrance, but just in case he drew his sword. Whistling for Scar to follow, he entered the darkness.
The darkness overwhelmed him almost immediately after he left the cave entrance. Lighting a torch with his flint, he continued on down the dark, narrow cave. After several minutes of walking, Kent came to a fork in the cave paths. Realizing this was not a cave, but an entrance to some underground region, Kent stopped.
“Alright, Scar, which way?”
Wagging his stub of a tail, Scar sniffed both passages, but when he came to the left one he wrinkled his nose and turned away.
“Alright, that way it is,” Kent said. Carving an arrow onto the wall of the cave, he started down the left path. Scar whined a bit, but still followed Kent on the slight downward slope into the ever-thickening darkness.
After several hours of progressing like this, Kent stopped for a quick bite to eat. He was thinking of continuing on for just a bit more, and then turning around. He would tell the villagers that it would be very advisable to block the cave off, in case some horror were to stumble out, but he had so far found no danger other than poisonous mushrooms.
Scar was off a bit ahead, hunting a small rat he had found. He was very nervous, because of the scent that filled the corridor now. Back at the first fork, e had caught the first whiff of it - a dark smell that he had never experienced before, not even in the evil ziggurats of the Scourge. He was worried, but The Master intended to continue on, so Scar would follow.
Just as Scar was within striking range of the rat, something touched him. It wasn’t any kind of physical contact, but as if some disembodied mind were floating there, surrounding his own. It reminded him vaguely of the undead shade that had tried to possess him, but this was far more than that experience. The shade, despite the curtain of death it hid behind, was still a human. This monster here, now, was far beyond anything Scar’s simple mind could describe.
Hello, little one, it impressed on Scar. What are you doing here?
Scar was too terrified to do anything but whimper. The voice in his head was dripping with evil and malice, and the somewhat pitying tone was not helped by the layer of sarcasm draped over it.
Just thought I would ask, it said. It is considered polite to ask before ripping information from the brains of others. The cloud of presence over Scar started pressing down on him, and his head started to pound. Whimpering more, he lay there for several minutes, unable to do anything as his head was slowly filled with the other thing there. Do you know what potential you have, little one? Imagine the power you could claim if you cast aside the bounds your masters placed on you and ruled yourselves, it whispered. Scar balked at such a notion; life without The Master would be meaningless. The next words were even worse, as they went against every instinct and thing he had learned over his life. Kill him, the weak one who relies on you for everything. What has he brought to you, in return for your undying friendship? An image rose in Scar’s mind, a memory of fighting evil men who stank of blood. In that fight, Scar had lost most of his tail to the cruel bite of an axe. He uses you. He doesn’t care about the meaning of friend; he only cares if you were worth the gold when all is said and done. How many times have you saved him? How many times has his faithful pet taken him from the jaws of certain doom? And what do you get in return? Another image was pulled from Scar’s head; getting kicked as a puppy when he broke a plate. The only thing that saved Scar from falling to the voice’s persistence was the call of The Master.
“Scar! Are you alright?” Hearing that call gave Scar more strength than the evil voice had anticipated. He growled from deep in his throat, and pushed the presence out of his mind with enough power to release it’s formidable hold on him. Despite it’s banishment, Scar could feel the presence around him, storming and angry. Scar had time only to whimper in fear one more time before the voice grew tired of playing and speared into his head.
Such forced entry is dangerous in any creature, because the only result would be the shattering of the victim’s mind. Scar’s possessed body jumped up at Kent, and after only a brief struggle got into his throat. This final act, defying millennium of instinct and a life of friendship with Kent, destroyed the last real remains of Scar, and when the insidious voice left the body reverted the mindless state of a vegetable, only breathing. A few minutes later, several dark shapes detached themselves from their fellow shadows and claimed the still-living body.
After traveling for several hours, always going down, those dark shapes entered a vast cavern, dominated by an enormous pool of water. The entire cavern was lit by a soft glow, originating from luminescent mushrooms growing on the walls. The dark shapes were revealed as purple-skinned, deformed monsters, with a face filled with writhing tentacles and deformed limbs, ending in more tentacles and barbed hooks. Moving to the edge of the vast pool, they put the body in the water, where it floated for a moment. It was soon claimed by a pale tentacle, arising from the depths and pulling the body down.
I would have preferred that I got the creature with it’s mind intact. I underestimated the power it was hiding in that little mind, and if I had claimed it as our own this creation would be so much better, the voice told it’s minions.
Dark bubbles started to rise from the lake. As they burst they released small clouds of dark gas, which would have killed the creatures in the room, had they not been created by the same dark process. After a few minutes, a shape ascended from the pool. The thing brought up by that tentacle, however, was no longer Scar by any stretch of imagination. The thing was covered in a slimy, leathery skin that took on a deep purple hue. Each of it’s front legs now ended in a single long claw, more suited for slicing through flesh than before. There was no longer any face to speak of; only a set of slimy tentacles, which bore hundreds of microscopic hairs. With practice, the new creature would be able to use them to far greater effect than any eyes possessed by mortals.
These creatures are far more powerful than their mortal counterparts. Go to the surface, and find me more of them. My newest children shall bring about my return to this earth far earlier than any hopes I had before. Go, my child, and bring about a new era. The era of Yogg-Saron!
The two creatures standing on the bank of the river got a glance of their god through the murky waters - rows upon rows of gaping maws, all filled with razor-sharp teeth and all seeming to smile at them, in a deformed and evil way.
“As our god commands,” one of the pair said. Bending down to the creature, it added, “Come, blind beast. You will be the instrument of Yogg-Saron‘s will, as are we.”
Turning away from the pool and prison of their master, the two creatures left, followed by the ‘blind beast,’ as it had been named. It was clumsy and tripping over itself frequently, but even by the time it had left the cavern it was getting better.
Created by Yogg-Saron as the next generation of warriors for his army, the blind beasts serve as elite support for his Faceless armies. Originally common domesticated dogs, Yogg-Sarron's dark magic has turned them into powerhouses of destruction going far beyond their previous lives and bonds. There have been scattered reports of their powers, from breathing fire to reincarnating soon after death, but they are so contradictory that none can be trusted.
EDIT:
Added a small description to complement the story.
Changed the faulty spelling "Yog'Sarron" to "Yogg-Saron."
Made a few slight changes after reading over it again.
Increased the size of the text.
After several hours of hacking through the dense forests of the region, Kent and his faithful dog, Scar, made it to the cave. Rumors of horrid monsters, who possessed squid-like faces and dark magic, had come to Kent from the local population. He had been promised a hefty bounty if he entered the cave and found the truth of the same rumors. There was nothing strange about the cave entrance, but just in case he drew his sword. Whistling for Scar to follow, he entered the darkness.
The darkness overwhelmed him almost immediately after he left the cave entrance. Lighting a torch with his flint, he continued on down the dark, narrow cave. After several minutes of walking, Kent came to a fork in the cave paths. Realizing this was not a cave, but an entrance to some underground region, Kent stopped.
“Alright, Scar, which way?”
Wagging his stub of a tail, Scar sniffed both passages, but when he came to the left one he wrinkled his nose and turned away.
“Alright, that way it is,” Kent said. Carving an arrow onto the wall of the cave, he started down the left path. Scar whined a bit, but still followed Kent on the slight downward slope into the ever-thickening darkness.
After several hours of progressing like this, Kent stopped for a quick bite to eat. He was thinking of continuing on for just a bit more, and then turning around. He would tell the villagers that it would be very advisable to block the cave off, in case some horror were to stumble out, but he had so far found no danger other than poisonous mushrooms.
Scar was off a bit ahead, hunting a small rat he had found. He was very nervous, because of the scent that filled the corridor now. Back at the first fork, e had caught the first whiff of it - a dark smell that he had never experienced before, not even in the evil ziggurats of the Scourge. He was worried, but The Master intended to continue on, so Scar would follow.
Just as Scar was within striking range of the rat, something touched him. It wasn’t any kind of physical contact, but as if some disembodied mind were floating there, surrounding his own. It reminded him vaguely of the undead shade that had tried to possess him, but this was far more than that experience. The shade, despite the curtain of death it hid behind, was still a human. This monster here, now, was far beyond anything Scar’s simple mind could describe.
Hello, little one, it impressed on Scar. What are you doing here?
Scar was too terrified to do anything but whimper. The voice in his head was dripping with evil and malice, and the somewhat pitying tone was not helped by the layer of sarcasm draped over it.
Just thought I would ask, it said. It is considered polite to ask before ripping information from the brains of others. The cloud of presence over Scar started pressing down on him, and his head started to pound. Whimpering more, he lay there for several minutes, unable to do anything as his head was slowly filled with the other thing there. Do you know what potential you have, little one? Imagine the power you could claim if you cast aside the bounds your masters placed on you and ruled yourselves, it whispered. Scar balked at such a notion; life without The Master would be meaningless. The next words were even worse, as they went against every instinct and thing he had learned over his life. Kill him, the weak one who relies on you for everything. What has he brought to you, in return for your undying friendship? An image rose in Scar’s mind, a memory of fighting evil men who stank of blood. In that fight, Scar had lost most of his tail to the cruel bite of an axe. He uses you. He doesn’t care about the meaning of friend; he only cares if you were worth the gold when all is said and done. How many times have you saved him? How many times has his faithful pet taken him from the jaws of certain doom? And what do you get in return? Another image was pulled from Scar’s head; getting kicked as a puppy when he broke a plate. The only thing that saved Scar from falling to the voice’s persistence was the call of The Master.
“Scar! Are you alright?” Hearing that call gave Scar more strength than the evil voice had anticipated. He growled from deep in his throat, and pushed the presence out of his mind with enough power to release it’s formidable hold on him. Despite it’s banishment, Scar could feel the presence around him, storming and angry. Scar had time only to whimper in fear one more time before the voice grew tired of playing and speared into his head.
Such forced entry is dangerous in any creature, because the only result would be the shattering of the victim’s mind. Scar’s possessed body jumped up at Kent, and after only a brief struggle got into his throat. This final act, defying millennium of instinct and a life of friendship with Kent, destroyed the last real remains of Scar, and when the insidious voice left the body reverted the mindless state of a vegetable, only breathing. A few minutes later, several dark shapes detached themselves from their fellow shadows and claimed the still-living body.
After traveling for several hours, always going down, those dark shapes entered a vast cavern, dominated by an enormous pool of water. The entire cavern was lit by a soft glow, originating from luminescent mushrooms growing on the walls. The dark shapes were revealed as purple-skinned, deformed monsters, with a face filled with writhing tentacles and deformed limbs, ending in more tentacles and barbed hooks. Moving to the edge of the vast pool, they put the body in the water, where it floated for a moment. It was soon claimed by a pale tentacle, arising from the depths and pulling the body down.
I would have preferred that I got the creature with it’s mind intact. I underestimated the power it was hiding in that little mind, and if I had claimed it as our own this creation would be so much better, the voice told it’s minions.
Dark bubbles started to rise from the lake. As they burst they released small clouds of dark gas, which would have killed the creatures in the room, had they not been created by the same dark process. After a few minutes, a shape ascended from the pool. The thing brought up by that tentacle, however, was no longer Scar by any stretch of imagination. The thing was covered in a slimy, leathery skin that took on a deep purple hue. Each of it’s front legs now ended in a single long claw, more suited for slicing through flesh than before. There was no longer any face to speak of; only a set of slimy tentacles, which bore hundreds of microscopic hairs. With practice, the new creature would be able to use them to far greater effect than any eyes possessed by mortals.
These creatures are far more powerful than their mortal counterparts. Go to the surface, and find me more of them. My newest children shall bring about my return to this earth far earlier than any hopes I had before. Go, my child, and bring about a new era. The era of Yogg-Saron!
The two creatures standing on the bank of the river got a glance of their god through the murky waters - rows upon rows of gaping maws, all filled with razor-sharp teeth and all seeming to smile at them, in a deformed and evil way.
“As our god commands,” one of the pair said. Bending down to the creature, it added, “Come, blind beast. You will be the instrument of Yogg-Saron‘s will, as are we.”
Turning away from the pool and prison of their master, the two creatures left, followed by the ‘blind beast,’ as it had been named. It was clumsy and tripping over itself frequently, but even by the time it had left the cavern it was getting better.
Created by Yogg-Saron as the next generation of warriors for his army, the blind beasts serve as elite support for his Faceless armies. Originally common domesticated dogs, Yogg-Sarron's dark magic has turned them into powerhouses of destruction going far beyond their previous lives and bonds. There have been scattered reports of their powers, from breathing fire to reincarnating soon after death, but they are so contradictory that none can be trusted.
EDIT:
Added a small description to complement the story.
Changed the faulty spelling "Yog'Sarron" to "Yogg-Saron."
Made a few slight changes after reading over it again.
Increased the size of the text.
Last edited:
