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CHIRO

It had a terrible, insatiable hunger... one that could only be satisfied by gorging itself on the flesh of the fallen. Any man would not suffice; the beasts pallet longed for the taste of a fierce warrior. It wanted to bury it's fangs deep into the scarred, battle-worn tissue of those who had obliterated so many before him. Longing for the taste of victory, the demon will stop at nothing to satisfy his cravings, marching blindly into battle... "Incompetence in the field of battle just angers the beast. If you value your life, failure is not an option."-Unknown

INFINITEAMMO

They...change. I made them that way. I made them to change, to adapt.

I made them to protect people! I never made them with the intent to harm! But something went wrong. My command of Lifesculpting slipped.

Yes, they change. But throughout all of their incarnations, two things always remain the same: their insane lust for blood, and their tireless love of death.

I should have never created them. They are my biggest failure...and they may yet kill us all.

-from Chief Lifesculptor Aren Nidwray's journal

BDJSB7:

The thing, while not a man, pretended itself one. Eyes, maw, and nose in their appropriate place. Limbs- four and all. Skin the color of infection writhed in a wholly unnatural way. Its arm lunged toward my companion. Pulsing flesh split, and odd talons sprouted from the wound. These cut and killed with ease. My avenging blow struck true, but the satisfying sunder of flesh and bone was absent. Instead; the jarring recoil of an anvil strike. Its flesh had, in part, formed a hardened mail. Spines sharp as blades sprung forth, glistening in moonlight. As any sane man would, I ran. Huron Janus, "Accounts from the Front"

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