Demonlord!

Created by the Fallen herself, your whole body pulsates with the power of forbidden magic. Black clouds of steam rise from your dark hide, smudging your silhouette for the eyes of the unadept. Glowing veins run across your pronounced muscles. All your scars, your maw and your empty eye sockets flame illuminated by the blazing hellfire inside of you. The wrath of the Fallen alone fuels your soulless demonic being to existence. Conquest and domination are the only things you, John, lust for. The and terror you and your brethren spilled over the lands of creation since the days of the celestial war have taken their toll on the hearts of the living. A cult of demon worshipers has arisen, in a dark scheme to fulfill the deepest desires of the Fallen. Today, another ritual would take place. In great anticipation, you lean in to feel the heat in your loins as you practically inhale the liquid from the stream at your feet. The daily blood sacrifice welcomes you to the lands your kind had originally been banished from. The summoning begins. "Theer-Ag-Ath-Garrakh!" - "Ag-Ath-Kraykhar."