[ WP ] You are an ancient evil , sealed away millennia ago by a legendary hero . You have escaped your imprisonment and attained a physical form . The first course of business ? Learning how to walk .

In the days of old, the men of iron 
 
 By great will of berserkers, and mighty sorcerers 
 
 Did trap trap the horror, spawn of malediction 
 
 While it was still vapor, never to walk like man and beast 
 
 And here it shall lie, heed this writ 
 
 *-Runic inscription on 10th century Icelandic jar* 
 
 Life, everywhere, that's what she felt. Life, dripping from every direction like honey from a beehive. The first thing that came to her when her clay prison cracked. Life, that vital catalyst of the dark magics that made her. In the old days, such energy could only come from years of pilgrimage by her faithful followers, but now this power had grown, and she greedily drank it in. It was clear that so much time had passed, and that the people of this world had truly multiplied and conquered. 
 
 It was so wonderful, so perfect, with such ease she could now finally take a physical form in this realm and unleash the full extent of her unholy power. The transformation would be effortless and graceful. Each sacrifice to her was not, as her followers thought, an offering, but a way for her to study the body, in order to build a perfect one of her own. This was the moment, centuries of dark machination, once thought interrupted, suddenly coming to fruition. 
 
 `` Oh fuck. What the Hell, this is so top heavy how do-'' 
 
 Her new figure was striking, tall and darkly beautiful with pure white skin and deep black hair, dressed in a sinister, yet revealing cloak. This would have been impressive if she was, for example, riding a dragon, or shooting lightning from her fingers. It was not impressive while she flopped and screeched on the floor of a museum storeroom. 
 
 `` How do you move these flesh sticks'' She has assumed that moving a body was like using magic, where picturing what you wanted would cause it to happen, but it would n't work, no matter how how hard she visualized. She could get her fingers to twitch, but she could n't pin down the technique. `` Why did n't I expect this, WHY DID N'T I EXPECT THIS'' 
 
 The words came out, but there was no skill to it, no pattern to copy, just confusion. The door burst open, revealing a sweaty man in a blue suit wielding a flashlight like it was a mighty weapon. He looked down at her, panted, and then took out a phone from the depths of his pocket, which he clumsily dialed. A tinny voice spoke: 
 
 `` You have reached Lesstoffan, number one solution for cursed or haunted artifacts, please hold'' Beep. The man sighed as annoyingly soothing music played. Meanwhile an entity of unspeakable evil sobbed on the ground. `` Hi, this is David from Lesstoffan, how can I help you' 
 
 `` Yeah, uh, hi. I'm calling from the history museum in, uh, oldtown, we've got another one, it, uh, looks like, I dunno, some sort of witch or sexy demon or something, came out of a jar by the looks of things'' 
 
 `` Thank you, we'll be right over''. 
 
 

