High Mortican
Molonstk stood upon a carpet of flesh in his charnal hall. The black figure of the necromancer king standing in stark contrast to the bright reds of the room, and bone white of his throne. Xavier knelt before his lord, head low. The God-King's high priest continued to make his droning anointment. Declaring his god's will, deeming all of Xavier's success to be a product of Molonstk, not him.
Xavier cared not for the stolen credit, he just cared for the power. The ability to control armies, and wage war. He had killed his predecessor, and turned his corpse into a servant, just has his predecessor had done before. He manipulated the entire organization to become his puppet. It was his time, he commanded the Soul Collectors. The only power he dared kneel to was in front of him. Xavier viewed his lord not as a barrier, but a trophy. One day he would take this thing's kingdom from him. He would rule the land as a god king, and make the neighboring states weep in terror.
The priest stopped, and the God-King approached. He spoke with a voice that was as soft as a winter breeze, and as loud as a thousand wailing souls. "I charge thee with the souls of this city. Take up the title of Mortician and give me the fuel that drives upon our glorious work." The God-King then pulled an orb from a nearby chest, and placed his hand upon Xavier's head. All stood still for a moment before a rush of power flooded into Xavier's head. His body was awash with power that threatened to tear himself apart. He relished it, reveled in it, then realized something was very wrong. He had lost control, he merely watched and recommenced as his body moved without him. This couldn't be happening! not to him! The voice whispered again "Don't pride yourself, you were not the first to try overthrowing me. Thank you for your service, child." With that, Xavier screamed.
Qualifications
High power necromancer.
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