Dark Eyes

level 76

ƒall into the Dark Shell

Age 3 years
Personality neutral
Guild The Forsakens Lament
Monsters Killed about 210 thousand
Death Count 94
Wins / Losses 73 / 15
Temple Completed at 05/04/2016
Ark Completed at 03/05/2018 (123.8%)
Twos of Every Kind 178m, 137f (13.7%)
Savings 5M, 955k (19.9%)
Pet Heffalump Moonkiller 23rd level


Weapon whoop-axe +87
Shield smug self-righteous attitude +87
Head frame of mind +85
Body dress rehearsal +85
Arms planetary rings +86
Legs laughing stockings +87
Talisman sense of impending doom +84


  • mating contact level 55
  • bad breath level 50
  • peek-a-boo level 49
  • clinical strike level 48
  • eye scream level 48
  • mass effect level 43
  • tin throat level 40
  • self-propelled feet level 38
  • knight's move level 32
  • exhaust of the dragon level 30




  • Honored Favorite
  • Animalist, 1st rank
  • Builder, 1st rank
  • Shipwright, 1st rank
  • Champion, 2nd rank
  • Fiend, 2nd rank
  • Hunter, 2nd rank
  • Martyr, 2nd rank
  • Careerist, 3rd rank
  • Invincible, 3rd rank
  • Moneybag, 3rd rank
  • Raider, 3rd rank
  • Renegade, 3rd rank
  • Savior, 3rd rank
  • Seadog, 3rd rank

Hero's Chronicles

The Dark One surveyed the Universe. So many worlds, and so many had fallen to him. But still, the Universe was almost endless. So much more left to consume and corrupt. The stars rumbled in his excitement and impatience. He wanted them all; all the galaxies, all the planets, all the souls. He sensed an approaching world, untouched by his shadow. He quivered with lust at all the people below, waiting to be devoured by the blackness. The heavens rolled in turmoil at the Dark One’s desire. The Universe was about to lose another child.

I will plant a seed.

A single spore to devour them.

He will take one soul.

He will take every soul.

The Darkest Ninth rose up, part of the Dark One and the Dark One part of him. The world below him teemed with flesh and bodies, but he could smell their souls. All he needed one was one, innocent soul, and the rest would succumb to him. He would taint their souls, and turn them to him. He descended to the planet, quietly, and settled himself in a small, forlorn house. He waited. Someone would come along. They always did.

And Dark Eyes Open

The old, abandoned house, having been vacant for over twenty years, was one day not so abandoned. Unfortunately, I stumbled upon this unwelcome knowledge by experiencing it myself, for it had been my practice to weekly visit the derelict and dormant structure for my childish adventures in imagination. However, that one, fatal day when I went in to play, I had no idea something else had moved in.

Upon entering the old building, a feeling of premonition settled over me, but like a fool, I attributed it to the moody, dark grey sky outside. I determined to use the uneasiness it caused to add to the realness of my heroic exploits, of smiting monsters in the name of my mighty god. Rain began to pour down from the heavens, and a cold, damp wind blew throughout the old and rotting wood house, chilling me to the core. I was a child, though, young and vigorous, and the cold dampened only my skin, not my spirits. I reached the living room of the house, slaying monsters along the way. This room could hardly be called a living room as much as the rest of the house could’ve been called livable. Cobwebs clogged with dirt hung down from the ceiling, dust generously covered every surface, and holes both gaping and small riddled the rotting walls. Stepping into the center of the room, I had just encountered a hulking, boss monster, when a final, wave of premonition washed over me. This time it was enough to pierce my childish density, and warn me of impending doom. All of my senses were screaming, on full alert, but that is what was so horrible about my last premonition. Deep and as dark as Hell, it was not a warning, but an indicator. An indicator of how foolish I was to have ignored fate’s first, generous warning, and how now it was too late to flee the terrifying cries of black danger exploding in my mind. I would have no second chance.

The floor collapsed under me, and I fell screaming into the darkest abyss of my existence, into blanketing solitude and endless silence.

Except I was not alone. I never again experienced the novelty of being alone after that.

Two days it took my clan, a proud, warrior people to find me, huddled in that dark pit. By then it was already too late. They knew something had changed in me, but they could not tell what. They could not get answers from one who refuses to speak, who will not even look them in the eyes. They learned quickly that I shunned company, that I preferred isolation. Yet they did not know that I was never alone. They knew not that I never spoke because I was afraid something other than my own voice would come out. I shunned eye contact in fear people would see something else staring back out at them.

In the following years, I recovered slightly. I could silently eat meals with my rowdy clan. I could walk in the woods and through the camp. I still would not speak or make eye contact. But something dawned on me during this time. My mind was opening up to evil influences. It was weak at first, but it grew stronger every day. The ability to see into peoples’ souls solidified within me. It was not a simple matter of reading minds, but rather, knowing and feeling every dark deed in a person’s past. I could sneak into the present, dark intentions fermenting in their minds, and easily watch the forming sins in their brains. Unfortunately for me, it seemed they could sense this unnatural unearthing of their darkest secrets. Things they had striven so hard to keep from the prying eyes of the world became unfurrowed. They knew it was me, reading their secrets, but they could never prove it. People would steer away and take wide berths around me, experiencing the same premonition towards me as I did towards my pit.

It took awhile longer for this to affect my clan, but when it did, I knew I had no choice but to leave them. They would not be able to bear my ravaging intrusions for long, and they would come to hate me.

I left to spare them, but I also left for my own safety. The human mind cannot deal with such invasions. It needs to be able to carry secrets. I believe that through time, my clan would have tried to kill me. I had already read the smallest whispers of murder in their head, their desperate, subconscious thoughts planning to murder me.

I lived in almost complete isolation. Even in the absence of other people in my life, I could still distantly sense the evil around, and my cursed power kept growing stronger. To escape the darkness my mind continually pulled in, I would go down to the river and watch the children splash and frolic, and the pureness and innocence of their souls would briefly cancel the encroaching darkness all around. But even the children grow cynical and embittered, and they begin to hate at the earliest age. Mankind is a sinking ship.

Men will boast about their goodness, and talk loudly about their progress and accomplishments. Hero’s brag about their mighty gods and goddesses, and claim to smite evil in the names of their holy supreme beings. But I see differently. Tonight they dine on sin, and tomorrow they will reap evil. They have tied themselves to darkness, and will be dragged down to the bottom of the abyss. They will always excuse themselves from the violence and evil of the age, but each one of them hides hatred and lies inside. Something so depraved and inherently evil cannot be inherently good. None are free from sin, the darkness that corrodes from within the soul. I know. I have pure evil within my heart and soul.

It has been many years. But that one, fatal day still haunts me, even though it occurred so long ago. The memory has not faded, for what caused my deep, intimate terror that day remains with me yet. I no longer mind the night as much, but the pitch black still terrifies me. I can talk again, but do so sparingly. I can meet other’s eyes, and do so rarely. For it is them who turn away now when I talk and look at them. The darkness within has grown so strong, and I am scared it will consume me. I can hear it beckoning me to leave my isolation, and to enter the world. I feel that if I don’t obey, it will devour my freedom and soul; my body will roam as an evil shell. If I do obey, I will spread it’s terrible darkness, under my own will and cowardice. I do not know what to do.

Please help me.

The Chase

He ran inbetween the hordes of monsters, dodging and rolling. Dark Eyes glanced back. A shadow tore through the monsters, ripping through them and throwing their bodies aside like paper. Dark Eyes continued sprinting along the battlefield. The monsters surrounding him bothered him not at all; he ran through them to slow the Darkest chasing him. But they barely slowed the rampaging beast behind him. Dark Eyes leapt over a cliff, and hit the ground running, then sliding under the legs of a dragon. The shadow followed, sailing over the cliff and landing on the dragon. It decapitated the monster with one slash, and sprung off it’s falling body. Eyes gleaming yellow, the Darkest pounded over the ground, bee lining for Dark Eyes. The man was running out of breath and energy. He vaulted over a downed tree, and grabbing onto a monster’s back, he used his momentum and slung it at the chasing shadow, launching himself off it’s back. The poor monster exploded as the Darkest tore through it.

His steps were slowing, and sooner or later, Dark Eyes knew he would trip and he would be finished. He couldn’t give up, but he knew the shadow would catch him soon.

Just then, the running man saw a group of heroes walking along. He sprinted towards, and shouted out. They turned surprised, and saw the creature chasing him. Dark Eyes dashed through them as they readied their shields and swords. The Darkest pushed the first hero aside, but the second successfully deflected him with his shield. The Darkest growled angrily as his inertia diminished. He whipped around, glaring at the hero who had stopped him. As the shadow stood still, he began to fade away, his darkness drifting into nothingness. The last thing to disappear were his yellow, gleaming eyes.

Dark Eyes collapsed in a heap, panting. Two heroes helped their friend up, and then the three rushed over to Dark Eyes.

“What was that?” one asked incredulously.

Recovering his breath slowly, Dark Eyes gazed at the heroes steadily.

“That, my friends, was the demon, Darkest Ninth.”

He got up, weakly, thanked them, and walked away.