The deity had shown herself to him, claiming to be there to congratulate him on his determination and ingenuity.. and to make him an offer. Nothing major, of course.. in return for her divine blessing, a gift bestowed to precious few, he had to continue this existence. Never in his life would he be allowed to join or form a clan, living out the rest of his days as an outcast to society.. a small price to pay, she had said, in return for what she was offering him. With a hesitant incline of his head, Nameless uttered his agreement, binding their contract; the moment the words left his lips, a smile as sharp as daggers flitted across the Plaguebringer’s skeletal features. With a flick of her mighty talon, she carved the rune of plague into the spiral’s hide, a permanent mark of her influence, and vanished in a disease-ridden vapour. Hunger, fierce and unyielding, began to gnaw at his insides, like the teeth of a dozen wolves, growing heavier as the minutes ticked by; it didn’t take him long to realise that something was horribly wrong. He had been granted many boons — with a metaphorical stomach of steel, he was able to eat almost anything he came across without inconvenience, and now the sickly aura that had resulted in his abandonment both physically and mentally affected those around him, making them hazy and weak-minded, giving him an advantage when both attacking and escaping, among other things — but also carried a price much heavier than first anticipated. No matter how much he ate, he would never truly feel sated. That awful pain would never fade — not completely, anyway.