[The Iron Jaw]

They betrayed me... Misled me... Used as their cannon fodder.

Varrach... K'thul... Sak'noth... 

They all, Forgot about me...

Surely, some tried but only to fail...  Only offered a true chance at life, barely by the hand of a sympathetic adversary...

Mortyl's mercy has offered me, another opportunity...

I will not let it go to waste.

Time has passed since the destruction of Abendrot. Since then, the fallen remains of Terminus had been carted off from the irradiated scene and left to the mercy of the seas themselves. At some point, it'd wash ashore... Carted away for a nameless cavern, where it'd fester for the time to come. Rendered immobile, by the mutating tendrils it lashes out to survive, siphoning at any and all ambient sources of mana it has managed to merge with much of the underground home of its finding.

... Until, one fateful day, a mage weakened the wards forged along its cavern's mouth... Allowing a nonmagus spelunker to stumble upon the meat moss in the coming months, and eventually...
The Terminal.

Swiftly captured by tendrils protruding from the ground akin to newly grown foliage, and earning the host's attention.



It has been one year since your capture...

Since then, you have been subjected to constant surges of occult essence through your circuitry and forcibly kept alive in an effort to forcibly train your body into a magus awakening...
During your times of unconsciousness, a construct of the demon's flesh has been conjured for your use.

• You were originally a non-magi forcefully induced into a magus awakening via months of experimentation and indoctrination
  
• Your age can be anywhere between 16 - 35 years old
  
• You are the inheritor of the final grimoire of Terminus' making: The Centricon Of The Reborn - a book forged of his own flesh, lined with runic symbols and pulsating with the demon's essence that grows in power with each use
  
• Your self-proclaimed Demon Patron currently looks upon you as his sole emissary and only influence beyond his cave, given his immobility, thus assuring you a status of leadership for his own declared coven.
  

"Did I do well, Lord Balar? Have I Become God?"

---

General Notes:

• Can be Main or Alt; though main is obviously preferred
  
• I am mostly active on weekends, with mild/sprinkled activity on weekdays, if any
  
• If one option would promote more interesting story, always go with that one over the other -- regardless of the consequences
  

Contact me at Scruqade, The Iron Jaw#0212

[The Iron Jaw]

"What has it been? How many... Years... Now...
He's dead. Certainly dead... The last human I awoken must've... Failed... A pity.
How I wonder what the surface is now? The many above where the sun shines still... Could they ever understand the depths I've been forced to?"

It has been over 12 years since the last Emissary was released.
It has been over 11 years since their disappearance.

In that time, many more would-be explorers have stumbled upon the Terminal's cavern, becoming victims of its ravenous clutches with fewer being chosen to become its experiments. You are one of those experiments.

"Let us hope you prove more fruitful than the others... I grow woefully tired of this prison of a body I've been forced within for so long. Then again... There is only eternity for me to get it right... Eventually."

Your flesh pod opens up to relinquish you to the flesh-moss-covered flooring of the cave...

• The same aspects above apply
  

• Much like the fallen prior, you are the inheritor of the grimoire of Terminus' making: The Centricon Of The Reborn - a book forged of Terminus' flesh