Dread and Nemesis (Beyzor Lord)

At the Height of His Power
Dread and Nemesis strode the field alone, at least, to the casual observer. He strode confidently forward as he stared down rank after rank of soldiers and they tore their eyes from their heads, screaming as the Beyzor approached. To the ranks engaged, before them appeared their greatest foes. They stared into the face of their greatest fears of death, for many, it was the Dark Lord, for some, it was more personal. Their king raising blade to them as they cast them from their home in exile, ignoring their pleas. Their cousin holding blade to their families throat, then letting blood pour from their bodies as they pleaded for the lives of their loved ones. Over and over the nightmare reborn to their eyes until they snapped, and tore their eyes out, and still the visions came, unavoidable, inescapable. Then the blades of the Beyzors slipped casually between their ribs, aiming true, finding their hearts, and to the casual observer, the armies had dropped their blades and allowed their foe to walk up to them, and run them through. So demoralized by their foe that they could no longer bear to fight or flee. Standing catatonic in waiting for their final gasp to be granted.

Interactions with Adventurers

His Defeat