Once upon a time, some people thought they could get away with doing anything they pleased. They found a little patch to call their own and invited all their friends. Then, when their true and rightful masters arrived, they tried to claim independence, seeing as they were getting along just fine in the "desert" without them.
Let's just say that didn't sit too well with the powers that be.
His bones a palace facade
their son flayed and remade
and the lovely, lovely chaos lady....
hmmmm, remind me to tell you about the time I actually married her. That was a fun couple of years before I fed her to a crocodile. Well, my fun, not hers.
We mashed the rebels into the flesh they had come to enjoy so very much, forced them to live over and over again. At the end of this last great Age, those who have earned their freedom will be permitted to slough off this filthy skin and be reborn to true life.
And if you believe that, I've some loooooooooooooverly swampland in Florida, cheap!
There's no escape for you, my ducks. Which is why on my way to hunting down the bitch who cost me my last body, I stopped to smell the roses, as it were.
I was well away from the woman before she noticed her babe was gone, and he was well on his way to the bottom of the river before anyone even looked in my direction. I find it easier to take care of the freshly incarnated while they are still too young to fight back. And I do so love that new baby smell.