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Mother3
Perpetual Pariah - by Elobo

Explorers in the Agrilla Pass are often beset by a strange creature of palpable self-loathing. The oral tradition of Agrillan survivor descendants mentions a creature composed of the negative energies the civil war and slaughter left deep-rooted in the land. A creature of anger was born as spirits who could not find a host, and were bound eternal to that cursed place, coalesced at one point. At first it was furious that it could not leave the Pass to fulfill its desires. Then, the contrasting points of sorrow of the many that made the whole caused self-doubt withi the creature. The more it tried to leave, the more impotent it felt. It felt more and more helpless, more and more anguish. Years of isolation made it a wreck of pure emotion. An empath feeding of the negativity of others, welcoming all pain they bring. It is irreproachably twisted into feeling pathetic and it is cursed to remain that way forever. Even though it accepts defeat, the pull of the land is too strong – it comes back. But the words is speaks… are these its own or is it reflecting your innermost sorrow and fear? Is it merely giving your most crushing emotions form?

Author	Title	Description	Date
Elobo	Quicksilver Highwayman	It takes real grit to crawl to the top of the Scarabian underworld. To control the black market and to scream across the sands in search of quarry ripe for plunder. He's a master criminal. Lightning fast and untouchable. Yet fastidious, exacting, and meticulous. Of course, such desperadoes demand a high ransom. Not monetary, but in the position that comes in offing number one. Being on top means always keeping watch over your shoulder.	8/2/12
Elobo	Desperation	Our consciousness streams inwards, crushing itself. Our mind barely has strength enough to stitch this world together anymore. It tears apart at the seam. The dark recesses of our mind bleed through. Nightmare tendrils reach down to strangle the colour from our form. We grew overconfident, riding high on the devastation of the guardians. But now, we are simply alone on a pile of battered corpses, they have no more energy to give. Our courage has been rent in twain again and again, and we simply do not have the fortitude for it anymore. All that is left is Desperation. All that is left is to blindly flail at the encroaching nightmares while we cling desperately to the decadence of our memories of former conquest. But we are alone now, courage left us a long time ago.	8/18/09
Elobo	Propagation	There are many fungal monsters, but few are as vile as the Zombieshroom. Its vast, undead network strangles its small island home. Whenever someone washes up on shore, it must slake its thirst for violence and need to propagate. The hapless victim is beaten, then slowly and painfully engulfed and changed by fungal growth. Finally, the brain is eaten by the Zombieshroom, and replaced with a new Zombieshroom core. The new zombie will either try to set out to flex its sickly influence elsewhere, or become yet another piece of the organism that just killed it.	5/14/09
Elobo	The Way We Live	The first killing bite sends fibrous feelers through the Slitherhen in a capillary assault. Fungus starts to grow from the small creature as the Muttshroom starts to digest it before it even ingests it. It is not cruelty, it is merely natural efficiency. But its meal may soon be forfeit, as a hungry Dog Fish stalks in the distance. The Muttshroom starts to catch, but his, and everyone's satisfaction tonight is always in motion. Always tumbling, never certain.	6/3/09
Elobo	The Pestilence Crawling Below	Small mice, large mice. Young mice and their elders. All Deadly. All issue forth from the gaping, hate-filled maw of the dreadful Plague Rat of Doom. The dark master of filth brings foetor and decay to the city above. The mice and rats spread out like searing tendrils of disease. A creeping death to all in its path. And all those foolish enough to brave its domain will be rent asunder by its absolute fury.	4/28/09