Of Ravaged Altars And Shadowbound Alliances

Through the tombs of tyranny, I stalk, a phantasm of wrath, my axe a cleansing flame. Among the rotting remains of the priesthood, I encountered a specter more sinister than the undead that littered the crypts. This apparition clad in darkness, his visage a parody of holiness, he too sought vengeance - though twisted in ungodly designs. Despite our disparities, we joined forces, razing altar after sanctified abomination, reveling in the destruction of false idols.

Our union was born of mutual hatred, yet I could not deny the thrill of sharing the battlefield with such a dread entity. His presence exuded an aura of death, akin to mine, and we moved through the desecrated halls like twin demons, indistinguishable save for the contrast between our elemental essences.

As we laid waste to the temples, I wondered at the machinations of fate that bound us thus. It seemed our paths would soon diverge, yet the promise of future encounters lingers, tantalizing as the sweet nectar of revenge. Until then, let the echoes of our savagery reverberate throughout the ruined halls, a warning to the devout: defy the wrath of the Hellion and the Reaper at your own peril.

Now, having quelled the fires of fanaticism, I turn my gaze towards fresh prey, ever seeking the blood that will slake the eternal thirst of my vengeance. My heart pounds with anticipation, for the hunt continues, and the legions of the damned march ever forward, led by the unrelenting hand of the Warlord herself.