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This room; this small dungeon chamber altered the very course of history, twisting mankind;
removing the shroud to reveal the ugliest side of human nature which set into motion
the true events that would bring about darkness; consuming the light. This room... is where
the Father of the Abyss was born. The Age of Fire is dwindling, and the Witch
of Izalith has been mutated by chaos in her misguided attempt to recreate the power of
the First Flame. With the failure, hope is fading alongside the Age of Fire. All avenues
to reinvigorate the flame have been exhausted; all but one. There is still a powerful soul
that remains -- the Dark Soul -- believed to be buried in the ancient human city, Oolacile.
"Oolacile has brought the Abyss upon itself. Fooled by that toothy serpent, they upturned
the grave of primeval man. What could they have been thinking?"
A primordial serpent would be the first to convince the people of Oolacile to open the
grave of primeval man, likely initiated by Kaathe with the hopes of setting in motion
the prophecy of the Dark Lord. Or was it Frampt, attempting to harvest the power of the Dark
Soul in a desperate act to satiate the Fire Link?
It matters not which serpent unleashed Manus' wrath. Ultimately, the outcome would benefit
neither. Manus' *** spewed darkness, further endangering the already-fleeting Age of Fire.
And his rage corrupted humans by driving their humanity wild with mutation; perverting the
prophecy of the Dark Lord in the process. But, before Manus was the harbinger of the
Abyss, he was simply a man; a man who rested in peace.
But, convinced of the powers to be extracted from the primeval man, the Sorcerers uprooted
their ancestor; placing Manus deep within Oolacile; in the bowels of the dungeons. This
would become a treacherous place Manus wishes he could wipe from his memory. The tortures
he endured here are unspeakable; torments of both a mental and physical nature.
Manus was assaulted, often to death, but a bonfire was created for Manus' cell; making
it easy to continue torture immediately after his body had expired. And when his body could
withstand no more, the attack on his mind would begin. Oolacile sorcerers' magic is
manipulative and illusionary in place of combative. With most heinous trickery; the wicked chameleons
created false images; twisting Manus' perception of reality; pushing his mind to the brink.
Manus was tethered to reality by the smallest of threads. He had retained a pendant, a sentiment
of a time when he could remember love. The pendant and the memories it aroused brought
him the faintest of joy. In the seldom moments of solitude, free of torture, Manus would
think of his lost joy; and fantasize of escape. But the memories wash away as hopelessness
overwhelms him, causing Manus to strike the wall of the prison. Again. Then again. And
what was once a moment of defeat turns into a delusion of hope; a futile attempt to escape.
He prays his will alone is powerful enough to crumble the wall.
Manus swings until his arm can no longer move; he swings until the pain is all that is left.
Each day Manus tries and fails to escape and each day the sorcerers return. But similar
to any other day, in the mists of the blood and suffering, one sorcerer notices the pendant
buried in soot and dirt in a pathetic attempt of concealment. It is a locket of sorts, of
magical origin, able to manifest memories. But this is no place for nostalgia, only torment
can be found in these walls. With the pendant gone, something changes within
Manus; he resents his kin; his humanity. Little by little the foul people of Oolacile were
altering as well, for Manus was a primeval human and all parties were unaware of his
great influence over humanity. Manus' influence; his pain was so powerful it was beginning
to mark those around him. It would seem evil breeds evil. Over time, the sorcerers of Oolacile
were beginning to go mad. Their magic was altering with their minds; turning dark and
physical, characteristic of the torture they performed on Manus.
"Seduced by a dark serpent or no, they awoke that thing themselves and drove it mad. One's
demise is always one's own making." No complex emotions are needed now, his mind
is primal; abstract -- only shapes that once resembled emotion remain. Rage and survival
are all that matter, and escape is the route to both. Manus stands in front of the wall
one last time and begins to slap the worn flesh of his fists against the grime-covered
brick. The sound of cracking was apparent, whether the sound's origin is bones or the
brick was indistinguishable. That was, until the wall crumbled in his mad
furry; revealing an enormous cavern, with a darkness below; an Abyss. The black void
was calling to him. Did Manus' hatred create the Abyss below, or was it there all along;
feeding on his anguish; transforming him, preparing him for this moment? Manus looks
back to the prison that once held him, now torn asunder; recognizing then what the chamber
truly was -- a cocoon; a shell to contain his struggle, his strength, his metamorphosis.
Blind to any other alternative, he moves toward the Abyss.
Manus did not choose this path; he was forced down, into the darkness.
"Humans, hhhmmmm. What vile creatures."