The cruel god Tergol, a haunt, a liar and cheat, the adversary hiding in dark places. To many he is known as the child-thief, a practitioner of the foul and profane mystic arts that even the most craven and deranged dare not touch. Tergol surrounds himself with all manner of wicked theurgies. He is hated by all, and loves only himself.
A dark spectre in the corner of the mind, Tergol's influence in these warring times has grown. Where he once twisted bone and sinew in his foul experiments, now he pursues the deeper mysteries of SLAGGVARA, seeking to harness its power to surpass the limitations of carnal destruction for himself. Monstrous creations wander the broken battlefield, wreaking only pain and destruction in their path. Without any solace of their own.
In fact, many blame the wanted criminal for the rapid infection of SLAGG-based weapons and heinous engines that hastens the death of the Dying Lands. Even now, he has discovered something deep within the bowels of Murland that piques his interest...
War is an amazing proposition for an alchemist of flesh. He maintains allegiance only to himself and his work. He deals in guile with fixations of his interest: weapons of war, impossible steeds and machinery, living weapons, scrolls and forbidden knowledge, as well as the true nature of SLAGGVARA. His home is chaos, and he is a vagabond.