Amaranth is not a person, but a sentient weapon. It has existed across many planes, leaving destruction and chaos in it's wake. It has known many "Hosts" and taken many a life in it's existance, but none have been enough to sate it's hunger and desire for more power. In fact it only seems to become more lustful for new blood as time has gone by.
Description: A black long sword, the blade is etched to give the appearance of souls writhing and screaming in pain. Holes in the blade match up with the souls mouths and have the effect of making a howling or wailing sound when the blade is swung. The crossguard is shaped like a flowering plant, the hilt and pomel a twist of thorny vines that cut into the palm of the person unlucky enough to try and wield the blade.
Any blood that touches Amaranth appears to sink in, or be absorbed into itself.
::A man in robes came to a deserted crossroads and set his bag to the side. Pushing back the sleeves of his robes he reached inside and drew out some small bowls and placed wrappings of dried herbs within them before placing them around the edges of where the roads crossed.
With the muttering of a few words and the wave of a hand, smoke could be seen to rise from the herbs as the faint glow of embers could be seen near the bottom. The scent filling the open air around him.
With ritualistic motions he stepped to the center of the crossroads and drew a dagger from the folds of his robes. Holding both hands high in front of him, he slashed into his palm and let the blood drip to the ground below with a soft pat, pat, pat...
"Su...::cough::...Su...::gasp::::choke::
Dude! Light a MATCH! Seriously!"
::The man, obviously a mage, turned to face the voice and found himself face to face with a strangely dressed man. He wore nothing but the faded and worn coat and pants of a once well tailored grey suit that clearly did not come from this world. His hair was fire red with streaks of black, particularly around the temples where it gave the impression of horns. And oddest of all, the shadows about seemed to shift and move as if he were the brightest light source...
The mage gave no indication that he was thrown off by the Man's appearance, but kept a grim look on his face.::
"I have summoned you, Demon. And now you must do my bidding!"
"Whoa! Slow your roll there, Hoss. Give me some time to take in the new digs, would ya?"
"I shall not. I have come to make my wish. And I will have it granted!"
"Yeesh! What crawled up your butt and died?"
"ENOUGH!
I want POWER! I wish for ultimate power!"
"Yawn... That's original... You willing to pay the price there, Chief?"
"Yes. YES! Whatever it takes! Anything! I must have the means to lay waste to my enemies!"
::Shrug::
"Allllrighty then, shall I see what I have in my goodie bag then?"
::The Man reaches into nothingness and pulls out some kind of padded glove, more a mit really, with a splendid floral pattern on it and places it on his hand.::
"Always use protection." ::Wink::
::He reaches again into nothingness and pulls out a black long sword in the gloved hand. The crossguard shaped like a blooming flower and the hilt like wrapped vines, the thorns glistening in the starlight. The blade was long and wrought with the shapes of screaming souls, holes in the blade where the mouths would be. Keeping the blade at arms length like its something foul, he offers it to the mage whose eyes are full of greed and desire as he gazes upon the beautiful weapon.::
"It is magnificent! I can FEEL its power calling to me! None will be able to stand before me with this weapon! Men will fear to behold me! The world will tremble in my passing! I shall be the most powerful man in the world!!"
"Yeah...what ev's... Think you can take this? It's getting heavy...
::The mage reaches out and grabs the hilt, all to anxious to have the power he so hungrily sought. He winces as the thorns cut into his palm, but no blood drops to the ground, as it is all absorbed into the weapon. Only the briefest flashes of doubt, followed by panic can be seen in the mage's eyes as the veins in his arm turn dark as the weapon seeks to take control. The struggle is brief as the mage's mind is not match for It's power and his eyes turn black as control is taken.::
"You said you wanted power. You should have asked for control... Seriously.
Welcome back, Amaranth. I do think your return is going to be...Legendary."
::With a smirk, the Man turns and disappears into nothingness, leaving the the cursed weapon to its own devices...::