The Fist Of The Herald

From the altar of Hextor, The Fist of the Herald arose amidst a ball of hell-fire that burned all who had laid their hands upon the altar, waiting for the day when the Herald would arrive.

Prophesy foretold of the day when Hextor would return to the Prime Material through the body of his Herald. The Herald of Hell would come forth to bid all his followers to unite for the final struggle which would bring him forth in all his glory. Only he who carried the divine spark could penetrate its hell-fire globe and bring this mythical hammer to bear. Many tried and many failed, even the strongest among the priests with all their divine protection could not bear the heat of its fiery wrath.

Then, one stepped forth from the crowd, the one called Pyromemnus called a meeting of the highest of the high, and gathered them all in front of the ancient altar. He spoke unto them a vision he had received, a vision of the Hammer held high above his head, the enemies of Hextor lying dead about his feet. The high priest laughed at him, and the others joined suit, for surely the chosen of Hextor would be his high priest, not some extra-planar half-breed, nor even one from amongst the ruling council that guided Hextor’s followers on this plane.

And so the brash half-fiend, Pyromemnus, stepped forward to the altar amidst a sea of raucous laughter, which met with sudden silence as his hand removed the warhammer unscathed from its fiery sheath. “The Scourge of Hell has called you together this day to discuss his will,” Pyromemnus boomed in the stunned silence of his peers. “You are no longer needed. Your council is slow and unproductive, and its corruption runs deep. As the Herald, I condemn you all to death.”

The Fist of the Herald rang out against armor whose enchantments failed time and time again. It left dead those who had thought themselves “chosen” but found that they could not bring their divine might to bear against the true Herald. Some fell upon their knees begging forgiveness, claiming Pyromemnus the chosen of their god, but Hextor shows no mercy, nor do his faithful.

Alone stood Pyromemnus before the altar, the bodies of his enemies now lay about his feet as he raised the Hammer above his head to receive the blessing of his Dark Lord. All who followed the Scourge of Hell received the same vision that night, of their new leader, and their new cause.

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