A festering cloud of death magic awaited the newly crowned Queen of Phorzhicoa, but this was not a surprise nor even unwelcome to one who descended from a House of watchers known to murder rivals and render prey into hollowed out echoes of humanity. She wore her power like diamonds and it glowed beneath her dark brown skin like magma. The Ruler of the Phorzhicoa kept relative peace among the nine houses and hundreds of clans branching out from each house from her throne, or as it was commonly known, the Fire Seat, an ascension that would surely lead to certain death by its occupant because of the necessity of the ruler’s perpetual connection with the Watcher God Hoomudl in constant pulse, which in turn flowed out to watchers like manna. Thus, the life force that kept her people alive was also the death magic that would eventually consume her. The draw of the Fire Seat had to surpass the will to live, an appeal that was irresistible. Desire that would draw a queen who believe herself powerful enough to stave off death itself, even if it cost the lives of her own people or worse, anger the God who filled her body with energy.
To the people, Hoomudl was the breath of life that allowed them to feed and thrive. To her, He was an alien who needed to be unmasked and drained.