You remember the creature’s offer. Unlimited power to destroy your foes for a lifetime of servitude. Servitude never suited you but you are sure you can find a way around that. In the darkness that encompasses you images begin to flicker. Memories. Flashes of your former life. You remember growing up in the cold. Hunting. Raiding. Spilling the blood of rival clans. Placing your father’s crown upon your head and strapping his great sword to your back. You remember your final battle. Rallying your clansmen against the Bull’s forces and being utterly decimated. You were captured. Dragged through the snow in chains. Crucified naked and unprotected against the elements. On your third day you threw up from the pain and exhaustion. The light began to fade and the fire of defiance that had burned in your chest and kept you alive longer than your peers began to cool. On what should have been your last breath the creature spoke to you. A giant ape like creature covered in spikes and blood red fur. It offered you power and promised you vengeance if you would only submit. You nodded acceptance with the last shred of your strength. The creature smiled as it punched through your chest and ripped out your heart and devoured it. The pain barely had time to register as it tore you to pieces and swallowed every morsel. Your consciousness didn’t die. You floated in darkness barely aware of the demon’s body calcifying into a diamond hard shell. The pain faded and you dreamed. You dreamed of green suns with burning light melting the flesh from the bones of your lessers. You heard the silent laughter of the demon wind scouring everything in its path. In these two icons you found rage, joy, truth and vengeance. It’s been five days since you were chosen. Five days since you first felt your body rebuilding itself into something….more.
You see light for the first time. You hear the distant shouts of men. A voice whispers in your mind. “your time for vengeance is at hand. Awaken.” Your shell explodes around you. You are reborn in perfect health amist the cold. Your left hand has become a viscous brass claw. All of your scars are gone. Your hair has turned blood red and you feel fangs touch the tip of your tongue. You smell the blood of the ten men before you. Soldiers of the Bull. No doubt they came to check your bodies. Now you can almost taste the fear from them as you stand before them in a bonfire of silent green light. You flex your talons and smile.
(you can describe how you attack them from here)