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[Lord Aragothias]

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Into the wilds.

Into the wilds went the once fallen Lord of Covetous, his mind still detached, his memories still only threads. What had begun a proud and meaningful quest into the depths of Britannia quickly became a desperate jaunt between seconds for survival.

Among the threads of his mind were the memories of two lifetimes, torn to chaos by just as many deaths. Since his reincarnation at the hands of the Lich Lord, and the blessing of Oblivion, Lord Aragothias had sought books of rare design, with a single topic... himself. Subtly and quietly he made his quest seem more of pride and arrogance than a weakness of mind... what would his underlings do if they knew... the Dread Lord was a nearly empty vessel, a traumatized mess of ideas, thoughts, memories and lost causes.

Ancient tomes began filling his mind, within them; some information but even more misinformation. However, within each was a clue to a puzzle. A steady flow of clues had led him this far... Into the wilds... and to the mouth of Hythloth.

Through a rough sea voyage, sea monsters and a hurricane... to the fires of Hythloth that boiled to the surface... Aragothias stood at the entrance to the dreaded pit, a broken mess of a man... his hair falling out, his beard grown wild and his fingernails torn off by the splinters of the oars... Inside, were all the answers... to the bottom of the pit... with the blessings of Oblivion, he would get what he came for, and escape with his life intact.

Through the fiery pit, through mazes and toils untold Aragothias crawled, his life barely holding on, and his mind fading even further into madness...

“The dark...” whispered the once proud ruler, “So, so dark... into the dark, yes! The dark!”

It was then the former Lord of Covetous heard a voice, a voice so recognizable it might as well been his own...

Through the hellish caverns of the dungeon, the Ancient creature from before creation lead Aragothias to a chamber of vile and yet beautiful trappings. A bed stood in the middle of a bloody pentagram, it was on this bed where the broken and nearly dead Aragothias gave up, and laid himself within the folds of Oblivion herself and passed into darkness.

For two long weeks Aragothias dreamed, of two lifetimes, of centuries in darkness, of death... and of betrayed love...

When he awoke Aragothias found himself upon the steps of the Temple of Hate, Vorik Dyn. He had been stripped naked, his hair had lost all color, and within his arms he held an ancient tome bound in the scales of a dragon... the cover read:

“Satih Ogara”

His quest had succeeded, but more importantly... Aragothias was himself once more.