Lord Zee
BellBottomBlues
Lewascan2In ancient myth, there was supposedly a Goddess of Life. They called her the Goddess of Life, not because she gave life to anyone, but because she sought life for herself - for she was dead since antiquity. The ghosts of her wish became disembodied souls, yearning for life and breath that only mortals possessed. So they spread across the world to seize it by force, possessing the flesh of any living things they encountered. Heaven, displeased by this turn of events, issued forth its angels to imprison these souls within the belly of the world for their error.
But greedy men saw only riches, power, and mana where the souls were imprisoned, and so foolishly opened gateways to the core with the blood of millions to tap into it. The ghosts fell upon the world like a flood and feasted upon the living once more, reveling in their newfound power as the bodies of men fell into their grasp.
Humankind would not fall so easily, and so began a long and bitter war between the living and the dead. The goddess's servants could not be slain, for they were already dead, and reissued from the belly of the world whenever the weapons of man sent them back. The only way to stop them was to lock the prison once more, in the same way it was opened: with the blood of millions.
Thus was the wretched tower built, to channel that blood into a magic spell so powerful that even a demon could not open it. Millions upon millions of people were dragged into its coffins, where they were placed in eternal slumber to continually give of their mana to charge the spell.
But greedy men saw only riches, power, and mana where the souls were imprisoned, and so foolishly opened gateways to the core with the blood of millions to tap into it. The ghosts fell upon the world like a flood and feasted upon the living once more, reveling in their newfound power as the bodies of men fell into their grasp.
Humankind would not fall so easily, and so began a long and bitter war between the living and the dead. The goddess's servants could not be slain, for they were already dead, and reissued from the belly of the world whenever the weapons of man sent them back. The only way to stop them was to lock the prison once more, in the same way it was opened: with the blood of millions.
Thus was the wretched tower built, to channel that blood into a magic spell so powerful that even a demon could not open it. Millions upon millions of people were dragged into its coffins, where they were placed in eternal slumber to continually give of their mana to charge the spell.
