Ichor Stag

Corruption Given Form by Oil and Iron

The desecration of the natural world has profound consequences; wisdom often forgotten by the hand of industry that intrudes further and further each passing day. As the poison and violation seeps in, pools of waste pollute the waters and forests, twisting earth and metal into one and the same. With time, terrible creatures are born of these forced fusions; beings whose veins pump with slick oil, and whose hides have given way to iron. Blank, empty eyes peer ever onward, with little in mind save for the propagation of their distorted kind. 

Desecrated Existence. Once mighty and majestic beasts of the land, these pitiful beings have become hollow shells of their former selves. Now devoid of life and mutated beyond recognition, they walk upon metal limbs as more of their flesh is replaced by oil and steel. As it slowly approaches completion, the stag’s gentle and wary nature becomes no more; instead replaced by a never ending desire to spread its contamination ever outward, such that others may be consumed as it was. 

Walking Contamination. Over time, the flesh and blood of the stag becomes little more than a factory of oil slick and ink-black ichor. This same substance that pours by the gallon from between its nooks and crannies is responsible for its sorry state, and the stag continues to spread it across the land. Forest floors turn barren, rivers and lakes choke, and the air itself begins to taste of iron as the stag continues its infernal work. With enough time, an entire ecosystem can fall to the machine, its denizens either dead or corrupted just like their destroyer. 

Army of Blight. Though a singular ichor stag may not prove much of a threat in combat, the true terror it instills is due to its eerie ability to raise the dead in its metallic image. By the time its existence is even discovered, the stag is sure to be surrounded by swarms of ichor-dripping beasts under its command. Even the proposal of hunting a stag must be made with the utmost caution, as half measures to destroy the beast would only serve to increase its numbers with even mightier soldiers. 

A pair of glistening horns breaks the oily surface you see before you, rising higher and closer with each passing moment. Soon the horns are accompanied by a skull, one recognizable as vaguely deer-like, save for the empty black orbs within the eye sockets. As the abominable creature rises to its true height, you see sinewy cords writhing in place of muscle beneath steel plates. All the while gurgling black ichor seeps from every conceivable orifice, pooling with each step the machine beast takes in your direction.