The being known as Rilvor flicked three fingers, the other elongated two that formed the leading edge of his wing held expertly still. Bits of ground plants and ash trickled down through the air as he observed the completed ritual incense. Gripping a bit of flint and steel, he worked them together until at last the sparks began to stir the life of a snaking trail of smoke. Setting the tool to his side, the bat-like humanoid worked quickly with a stick of white chalk. Clerical symbols were no walk in the park to do, much less in a hurry. The temple room echoed with dozens of soft scratchings as he observed the detail.

Silence filled the hazy room as flame devoured the incense rapidly. The Xibalban took in a deep breath, twin coils of smoke slithering into his nostrils; his eyes closed as his mind opened, searching for the focus. It seemed almost as hazy as the room itself, a gaping chasm of never ending expanse. "There." He thought, latching onto a rope of life and allowing himself to be pulled into Xibalba. A dread realm of despair, torment, and humiliation, Rilvor hated coming here in mind almost as much as in form. His Master's domain was unforgiving even to its clerics, though he would admit being from it gave a comfy acclimation. Perhaps some petulant side of him simply didn't like taking orders.

Stepping out from one of the many alcoves in the central chamber with a clawed clicking, Rilvor cast his eyes about the room. Many like himself were residing here in physical form, garbed similarly in ornate headresses, jewelry, and decorations of various materials. Unlike him however, they did not also serve as an assassin for the deity and wore no hide kilt. Custom decreed baring oneself true to their deity, whether male or female, and thus there was no need for the frivolous coverings in Xibalba. His mental form approached the altar in the center of the room, the worshiping clerics taking no interest in his presence.

A voice like that of infinity resonated seemingly from everywhere, sounding both of screeching and rumbling speech. "You have returned. Speak." It thundered in his bat-like ears, nearly driving all thought from his mind. "Lord Camazotz, I have secured a proper place of worship. Yet but a few unworthy creatures remain in hiding, but I will cleanse them from it. What is thy next bidding?" The assassin-cleric spoke as he bowed his head in deference. He could feel the presence of the god about him, almost as if being caressed in reward for his efforts."Kuntas. Go there, and slay their Priest. He preaches blasphemy. Show them that none shall defy my inevitable return. Offer his heart to me upon the altar." the deity spoke, Rilvor bowing deeply in acceptance as his mental form began to fade.

The tall outsider stood from his meditative pose, the tip of his leaf-shaped nose twitching at the final throes of the incense. Solitude grasped at him from every angle, the forgotten ruins serving as his dwelling seeming to loathe the new presence. Securing his ritual athame upon the supporting cord that ran along his kilt, Rilvor drew his weapon from its dark scabbard. The enchanted shortsword gleamed sickly even in the faded rays filtering from the overgrown skylight. A vicious grin splayed itself upon his visage as he began to seek out the remaining creatures within the ruin. "This is truly the glory of a Fang of Camazotz" He thought to himself as the claws upon his bat-like feet clicked upon the stone in a grave portent.


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A rather short writing, but something to try and warm the rewriting of my oldest character. Long since dissatisfied with him being merely some assassin serving a deity for a vague reason, I think I have grown him into something "much more...muchier". We'll see how this all pans out, though I am eager to write more of him. With the change to his profession and motivations, a personality change of a sorts is about as well! I much prefer him as an actual sane, if evil, "person" in his actions and reactions. Meaning rather than simply overreact like an emotional adolescent, I much prefer how he now take things that anger him in, plotting and scheming something horrible and dastardly for his foes. Rather than simply tackling to the ground and attempting to stab them to death.

I'll be putting a much greater focus upon Camazotz in his character story now as well.