He comes from the bloody plains of North Meeric, where barbaric tribes of demon worshippers burn and despoil what traces of civilization they can find. They have no name for themselves, but others call them the Filth. At night their camps echo with the screams of prisoners and the gibbering of madmen. Bodies bend and snap as they are wracked by mutation – dark payment earned with dark rituals. He is the Fourth Vessel – a harbinger of the degradation of all life. He is a receptacle for evil. He rarely speaks for he has no need. Why speak to mortals when you have conversed with the living face of damnation? As the Fourth Vessel he is a collector of things, and now he has set his eyes on the greatest of all prizes. The plains of North Meeric are running low on souls, but a Summoning Stone would fix that.
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