Gift of Eomar
Xenegon the Pernicious
The Miasma Veil
With the complexion of a corpse recently drawn from the mire of a bog, Xenegon is a terror to behold. Wisps of muck stained robe sweep from him in tatters, cinched at it’s sunken waist. Black ichor drips from it’s scowl, lined with fangs the color of insect larva.
From it’s terrible maw, it’s face extends upward past where nose and eye sockets are normally found, winding their way up into two extended plates of pestilent flesh. Stringy hair the color of rotten wheat ebbs from behind the ghastly visage.
It’s exposed torso is made up of little more than the sickly skin pulled taught over it’s sunken ribs. The sinewy arms of the Pernicious One are stretch outward with a pair of hands marred by oozing boils. Each come to an end with a grasping hand with long nails, blackened by decay.
Hailing from the dread realm of Acherus, Xenegon takes what may be taken for amusement in the torture and subjugation of his victims. Those unfortunate enough to find themselves in the grasp of the Pernicious One speak of atrocities inflicted on their bodies, with a soul breaking madness the only end to be desired.
In concord with his Master’s behest, the Pernicious One has been squeezing the hope from those brought to the Solastarum Dormitories, bringing them within heartbeats of death itself before correcting their maladies. Once the creature is properly ground into a dismal state, the poor soul is ready to meet their fate with the new Master of the Tower.