• Not much is known about this monster. Some say he was never a standard, instead manifesting his existence through the malice and thirst of those who could never be redeemed. Others believe even before corruption, he feasted on pacas, and was only waiting for a form fit to hold his wretched soul. No one who once knew him was alive, or were so hidden from the world because of the shame, guilt, or fright of letting him get so far. Not even he remembered where he began. That, or his head was so filled with the stench of death, that he could not think of much else.
• But once, there was a Pacapillar. He had a family, and friends. A life worth living and love in his heart. But he wanted more. He needed more. A tug at his being he yearned to fulfill. He trained, studied, and sought for strength, for power. He shut himself off from those who cared. And lashed out at those who he didn't. It was still not enough. There was no longer room in his heart for compassion. Those who cared stopped trying. And his greed didn't stop growing. He started bringing harm to those who he once held close, putting those who pleaded him to stop in danger. Before their eyes he was changing, even if he couldn't see it. His silhouette now hidden under the looming shadow of the beast he was becoming. Until he finally snapped. The sins of the Pacapillar, the awful he had done, metamorphosing, erasing what humanity still clung to his body. Left behind was a feral creature, fueled by an insatiable hunger and obsession with magic. There was no will to live. Only to feed.