Mister Rancor had been noticeably absent from much of the specifics happening in the cylindrical world, with the multiple events and objects from the accident of Etterskell only opening more opportunity. Rancor shook his head.
He stood on the land that had been scarred.... glancing at the doom brought forth by his son. Rancor was not sure if what he was feeling was pride... or truthfully resentment of being surpassed by one so young. His feelings for Crax were complicated, but was much more pure than the feelings he had for his siblings.
Rancor had been existing within the shadows of Masque, a place where he felt comfortable, but the brazen attack demanded his attention.
Shifting forms into what appeared to be a survivor, one of those saved by the hopeful, whose resiliency always turned his stomach. When he had the chance, Mister Rancor found himself whispering into the ears of the survivors. "Why did the God of Heroes cast us aside?" "Clarkent Kal has forsaken our justice." "Alitheon brought death to us all." "I heard the Elven nomads Aelf were the true unspoken force behind the assault. Such black eyes..."
As he spread the rumors through the survivors, planting seeds intended to sprout into the burning hatred and thriving revenge, Mister Rancor decided to target Hedonia as well. Gambling is such an ample target. The house never loses and those who find themselves unable to cope, have hatred fueling within their breasts. Rancor made sure that these hapless losers knew whom to blame for their lot in life... those who worshiped Nagus Sterling.
Mister Rancor never wanted the direct action, preferring to allow the explosion to form from within. Those were always the most damaging.
Secondary Domain: Manipulation & Lies