The arid desert air seems like a stalwart defender against any hope of releif. An occasional breeze does make it's way to and fro, but it only serves as a crushing blow and searing cut of intense heat. The sharp sand swirls about, ever moving, falling and rising in sandy sea of the Anfauglir Desert. A sterile, hostile place of the worst kind in Arda. The only place to find any sort of board and more importantly, water, was an old stronghold known as Angband. In order to reach that place, a traveller would have to brave the unmerciful terrain. Even if a person were to reach the place, they would find a anarchist soceity composed of outlaws, vagabands, criminals of the worst kind.
That is exactly where someone needed to be, at this moment, ironically, as he was pondering over his plan. Frozen in place by a fine yet very strong glass shell. The result of the intense heat of the desert and heat generated from another source, himself. How he had stayed alive all this time was a mystery to him. It was actually not very hot inside, which the creature was grateful for.
But was it worth it? He was by and large forgotten in the world. Few remained who even knew of the tales, let alone those who had actually known him in person. Was it time to start over? Thoughts were always a common occurence, a companion to him. Spending time here, for so long, not being able to move, forced him to sharpen his mind to a boggling degree. Unlocked portions of his brain were laid bare to him, and he took advantage of them all.
Yet, he had to learn more.
If only he could find a way out of the translucent prison. Gazing up, the shapeshifter had previously shifted his own eyes away from the front of his face in order to stop them being damaged by the sun. Moving them to the forefront, he perceived it was soon going to set over the horizon, however, as the cold night was to set in. Perfect.
Concentrating with all his might, he began to move bits and pieces of himself through the glass, one by one. A tedious process, but soon, the body was forming on the other side of the coffin. What seemed to be a dead mass, of twisting cords of black, red, and white. The dormant energies that composed his body slowly came to life, churning ever so slowly. His true self, what Ita the Reckless had made him to be. The Pariah considered it to be a purification, but, in all reality, it was an attempt at saving her only faithful servant at the time. Not long did it take her to find a fancy to others, and leave him behind. Even turn against him at one point.
Tithdaeron intended to pay her a visit. It would be interesting to see what her reaction is.
Sitting up, the chaos elemental quickly took the form of a desert traveller, ragged cloak and all. A dark skinned, rugged man with the look of experience in his eyes. And a burning inferno with in, a flame once so intense that it had landed him in the prison he had just slipped out of. Facing west, Tithdaeron began his journey to Angband.
Morgo began walking through the desert, towards his home city of Agband. The desert air seemed to stifle him, making it almost impossible to breath. He was panting lightly, trying to keep from more exhaustion. This is terrible, he thought to himself. He continued walking along through the desert.
The worst part of this trip was the agony of innocence. He had been free of a death for two days. His frenzy for killing had not been quenched for quite a while, and the effects began to take place. His eyes became bloodshot, and he would soon crack. Without filling this craving, he became crazy, well crazier. If he didn't get to Angband soon without killing an innocent, he might lose his sanity completely. If he did reach their in time, he better find a toddler to torture. He could hear the screams of the child in his head, giving him an even bigger lust of blood.
He went on top of the ridge, and came upon a shell, a thin layer of glass. Slowly, a mass of chaotic energy was squeezing its way out of the arcane prison. Morgo could feel the chaos swelling from the mass, and then it began to shapeshift. It turned into the form of a weary desert traveler.
Morgo need defense in case this creature was hostile. He began to chant a few unintelligible words, and red runes of chaos appeared in the air before him. They began to shine brightly, and then a massive golem, a Raa golem of chaos appeared before him. Morgo drew Denger's talon, and beckoned to Xoac and the golem. He charged towards it, and pointed to the mace at it. "Who are you?" he asked. "Tell me now, otherwise this golem will smash you and Xoac will devour you!" he bellowed. He could barely hold just slashing the talon down its stomach right away.