Dark Lord of the Polvere Nera
Copyright 2012 - Murphy
For more than 150 years, Sabrero, Necromancer and Dark Lord of the Polvere Nera controlled the earth. He gave man the magical grains that fueled so much discontent. As its spell over the world grew, mysterious vials of the ‘black powder’ were responsible for much iniquity and death.
“Behold, Vertigo! Look upon the evil of man! Witness the vileness of his ways; his greed; his lust for power. Watch, as he plunders and kills others, taking from them that which he wants! This gives me pleasure! I will never forget the day that I gave Bacon, Franciscan man of God, the means to make the devil’s fire.”
Sabrero’s manservant Vertigo stood beside his master and watched the field of death that grew ever larger. Men fought and died. They stabbed and gouged each other; the sheer malevolence of a world on fire could be seen in the eyes of the men with the black powder sticks.
Sabrero chuckled to himself and said, “Bacon was in awe and frightened both, when he made his first bowl of the magical powder. What was it he said?”
"He thought himself profound. No so! He was bewitched!"
Sabrero stroked his long white beard and contemplated the folly.
“Indeed, Bacon never saw Beelzebub’s hand, nor mine, in that sulfuric mix. It feeds the evil. Watch, as they kill each other. It is the powder that changed man. It truly has taken possession of his soul. Though the secret is known only to a few, it’s very existence has influenced the world! They will continue the battle until no one is left standing. They do not know how to control the powder. In truth, it controls them!”
“Master, will the powder not fail after a time?” asked Vertigo, confused that such a simple mix of ingredients could destroy the world.
“It can be made to fail, but man preserves and guards it. He makes ever increasing amounts of the powder, so that he will never run out! He generates his own misery. It is an obsession! It is his doom!”
“But Master, can they not break free of the spell?”
“Never! They are too weak; too self absorbed to be its master. As to your question - ‘Will the powder not fail after a time?’ The answer is no. As long as there is evil in man’s heart, it shall continue to gain strength and spit death upon all who touch it! This is our gift of pestilence!”
Copyright 2012 - Murphy
For more than 150 years, Sabrero, Necromancer and Dark Lord of the Polvere Nera controlled the earth. He gave man the magical grains that fueled so much discontent. As its spell over the world grew, mysterious vials of the ‘black powder’ were responsible for much iniquity and death.
“Behold, Vertigo! Look upon the evil of man! Witness the vileness of his ways; his greed; his lust for power. Watch, as he plunders and kills others, taking from them that which he wants! This gives me pleasure! I will never forget the day that I gave Bacon, Franciscan man of God, the means to make the devil’s fire.”
Sabrero’s manservant Vertigo stood beside his master and watched the field of death that grew ever larger. Men fought and died. They stabbed and gouged each other; the sheer malevolence of a world on fire could be seen in the eyes of the men with the black powder sticks.
Sabrero chuckled to himself and said, “Bacon was in awe and frightened both, when he made his first bowl of the magical powder. What was it he said?”
“When the flame of powder toucheth the soul of man, it burneth exceeding deep.”
"He thought himself profound. No so! He was bewitched!"
Sabrero stroked his long white beard and contemplated the folly.
“Indeed, Bacon never saw Beelzebub’s hand, nor mine, in that sulfuric mix. It feeds the evil. Watch, as they kill each other. It is the powder that changed man. It truly has taken possession of his soul. Though the secret is known only to a few, it’s very existence has influenced the world! They will continue the battle until no one is left standing. They do not know how to control the powder. In truth, it controls them!”
“Master, will the powder not fail after a time?” asked Vertigo, confused that such a simple mix of ingredients could destroy the world.
“It can be made to fail, but man preserves and guards it. He makes ever increasing amounts of the powder, so that he will never run out! He generates his own misery. It is an obsession! It is his doom!”
“But Master, can they not break free of the spell?”
“Never! They are too weak; too self absorbed to be its master. As to your question - ‘Will the powder not fail after a time?’ The answer is no. As long as there is evil in man’s heart, it shall continue to gain strength and spit death upon all who touch it! This is our gift of pestilence!”
