He that burns and is not devoured, overcomes and is never replete, kills and is ahead of all judgment. Lucifer transmits doom to all who would stand against him. Swallowing souls on the tip of a fiery sword, he is the Fallen One, a once-favoured leader from the realm in the wake of the light, cast out for the sin of disobedience: he would not kneel. Six times his name was rung from the great bell of Vashundol. Six and sixty times his wings were branded, until only smoking stumps remained. Without wings, he slipped loose from the binds that tied him within the light and he fell screaming to earth. A crater in the desert, Paradise lost. Now he attacks without compassion, without purpose, the only living being able to move freely between the seven dark territories. Lashed by inexorable needs, twisted by unbelievable talents, the Doom Bringer carries his own torment with him wherever he goes. Rebellious to the last.