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Description
Since as far as we who have carried this mantle can remember, since the concept, knowledge, acknowledgement, personification and it's link between war. Death has been the very pinnacle, the apex of every war, conflict and battle across all known history as far back as the very first civilizations.

Death has gone by many names, the culture they have entered into branding them as beings of great and terrible deities or myths.

Some called one the Morrigan, some called it Arwen else where. But it has always been death. A hooded fighter that has wielded a truly wicked sickle, one of wood, one of copper, stone, steel and the latest and last held one of fire with a cloak and shawl of metal and oil.

The only people who know of this person are the militaries of the world wearers of the mantle, donners of the very mask. A mask older than most records, once said to be simple animal hide and the a fashioned hood and helmet. It is now a mere balaclava.

Thousands of years and descendants, blood spilt on its fabric and surface enough to Drown each wearer..and now it has been destroyed, the latest and last death was slain.

By his own son, his child who cut the mask from his face and carved the mouth out.. no longer has the mantle of death struck fear unto battlefields. Instead a new face, a new haunting phenomenon has be born and by the name and nature of two entities that surpass death.

A mass of the dead and dying or yelling in a chorus that is known as the Slaugh and, the pervading, immemorial and one day even the out existing death, time and existence itself force of chaos.

A mangled mask with jaws of a monster from the abyss, the cruel and tenacious determination of man once flesh turned else.

A monster...chaos incarnate...anarchy.-Unknown.

Description
Since as far as we who have carried this mantle can remember, since the concept, knowledge, acknowledgement, personification and it's link between war. Death has been the very pinnacle, the apex of every war, conflict and battle across all known history as far back as the very first civilizations.

Death has gone by many names, the culture they have entered into branding them as beings of great and terrible deities or myths.

Some called one the Morrigan, some called it Arwen else where. But it has always been death. A hooded fighter that has wielded a truly wicked sickle, one of wood, one of copper, stone, steel and the latest and last held one of fire with a cloak and shawl of metal and oil.

The only people who know of this person are the militaries of the world wearers of the mantle, donners of the very mask. A mask older than most records, once said to be simple animal hide and the a fashioned hood and helmet. It is now a mere balaclava.

Thousands of years and descendants, blood spilt on its fabric and surface enough to Drown each wearer..and now it has been destroyed, the latest and last death was slain.

By his own son, his child who cut the mask from his face and carved the mouth out.. no longer has the mantle of death struck fear unto battlefields. Instead a new face, a new haunting phenomenon has be born and by the name and nature of two entities that surpass death.

A mass of the dead and dying or yelling in a chorus that is known as the Slaugh and, the pervading, immemorial and one day even the out existing death, time and existence itself force of chaos.

A mangled mask with jaws of a monster from the abyss, the cruel and tenacious determination of man once flesh turned else.

A monster...chaos incarnate...anarchy.-Unknown.