Glandre Malleus

> *“One day, you muster the courage and let go of the fear. In a brief moment of insanity, you do everything ever wanted to do. In that instant, something about you changes. It is addictive. You discover yourself. You are alive. You are powerful.” -* Glandre Malleus
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## Story

Once upon a time, a human escaped the clutches of Vrael masters, shed their chains and trekked to the heart of the wasteland, braving the horrors, the disease, the shadows that prowl in the darkness, just to prove it could be done.

Now, generations later, we have the Obraxis Brotherband. A place I call home, and a land I call Mother. A land that is always freshly bathed in brutal conquests as we campaign the constant expansion of our dominion over the pale, lustless world around us, transforming it in our image... A vision in blossoming tendrils of violent and vigorous life.

But why do we keep waging war? We have land aplenty, surely? These lands are wide and desolate, there is place enough for everyone.

If you ask those spineless slaves, you'll get an easy consensus that we conquer simply because we are the devil incarnate. But understand, Pestilence in itself is neither good nor evil. It is simply powerful. The Vrael born of it choose every day how they will use that power.

It is great indeed, to be powerful. And no matter how strong I am, I can always get stronger. I can amass more territory, more numbers, more materials, more gold, more *everything*.

Oh progenitor who had first defied the Vrael, if only you could see us now, sharing in the thirst of the Blight itself. Would you be proud, of the glorious species you have created? Of every generation who had dared to go a little further, push a little more?

Though my ancient ancestor might not have been of the Mother, they were stronger in spirit than any of the frail, fearful creatures today polluting the world beyond our borders. My ancestor saw death and confronted it, made a home in it. Is it any wonder then, that we strike such terror into those who have never seen past their soft and lust worlds? As if their gods will protect them from the dangers that skulk in their nights and in their nightmares.

I do not hide. Even with the power of the gods against me, I survive because I am the danger, the nightmare. I defy the death and virulent disease surrounding my home every day. Survival is suffering and struggle. Only the harshness of life breeds resilience in the living. And so I fight. I wage war and conquest. I set armies against each other and stain the world with violence. It is their own folly, if they did not amass the strength to defeat me.

From the first outsider who looked upon the wasteland and found it beautiful, every generation after them adapted, changed, evolved. Obraxis Prime is now a part of us as much as we are a part of it. We grew powerful. The Blight runs so strongly within my blood, that even a single touch will gift a wealth of misery to those who have lived under only fair plains and high suns.

Warfare has never been so easy.

## Relationships

*"Glandre lives a life of passion. His blood is Obraxis-born, and runs hot. His world is no more permanent than smoke rising from a flame. Whatever his struggles and triumphs, however he may suffer them, all too soon they bleed away, just like an ember in the rain. Tomorrow is a new day, unencumbered with old nonsense. It's a pure and perfect way of life, freeing, to remember nothing and want for everything." -* Venomscale

*"Glandre is a living example of why dreams can be such dangerous things. They so easily go out of control. Scaling walls and jumping over trenches. Sparks leap like fleas and a breeze could carry embers for miles. Better to tend that spark and pass it from one generation to the next, like a torch. Carefully controlled. But Glandre is a conflagration. Doing anything and everything on a whim. It has consumed him completely; he burns in it, and he'll die in it someday."* - Megrim of Maillard