He appeared in a pitch-black void. Beings of cosmic scale fought before his eyes. They fought and fought. Fought against the unending swarm. An endless multitude of amorphous flesh. Morphed into tentacles, morphed into worms, morphed into bubbles, morphed into flesh, flesh and the flesh. These beings came from the deep, from the depths of the cosmos, from the chambers of the chaos. They plucked out planets. They plucked out stars. They plucked out galaxies. They were… But alas, an earth-shattering explosion broke him free from his reverie as these visions of time immemorial turned to dust. That was enough, more than enough for him to reenact the fragmented memories of his kind, such was his destiny, to devour, to consume and to corrupt. For the Blood of the Outer Ones flowed through him and all the Ancestors before him. His name was Vincent Embergravve. A Prince of a Fallen Kingdom upon the Frozen Dominion. Forgotten by all, but not by those who coveted its dark secrets to no end. They unveiled the true purpose of the Embergravves, as they tore through the facade that fooled all men for ages past. A grave mistake on their part, for they set off a series of motions that would forever plague the realms of all mortals and gods. For the inheritance of the Ninth Monarch, one of the Blood Ancestors of the Outer Ones, lived through him to once again usher the Age of the Blood Tide.