The power of the angels is tempting to many mortals, even if they may not understand it. The strength of the heavens could do anything, from performing miracles, to changing the world itself. Even the smallest bit of it could allow one to do anything, be it ruling a kingdom or destroying one. With such a power at their side, many would believe that nothing could go wrong. How could one fall when the angels stand by their side?
Though they know the possibilities that come from the blessings of angels, they do not truly know its origin. The power of the angels is not a tool that can be handed off, or a bit of mana that is transferred from one vessel to the other. The energy they bestow upon one is a piece of themselves, a mere fraction of their soul placed within the body of those they bless. From this fragment flows the heavenly power, as the user wields the very spirit of an angel. Their miraculous feats and impossible strength will draw from this slumbering piece, feeding off its endless potential. Little do they know, though, that such a sleep is not eternal. Going too far and draining too much may disturb its sweet slumber and their greed will begin their own end. In that fateful moment, the angel will wake up. Separated and confused, that fragment will feel the mortal flesh that imprisons it and know disgust. The bodies of mortals is no place for the shattered mind of a god, and it will seek change. Man may be able to contain the slumbering power of an angel, but when such an energy truly awakens, their bodies swiftly change from a blessed vessel to a reviled prison.
Here is what remains of a king who desired order and justice. After calamity fell upon his kingdom, corruption and savagery threatened to devour what was left. He refused to let chaos claim his people, so he created an order to beat back the rising tide. The knights he trained became legendary throughout the land, and with him at the throne, they fought back against the cruel and conniving. His vision of justice is what brought the angel to his castle, and he took its blessing so that he could make this dream a reality. With this power, he bestowed his knights with otherworldly blades and unbreakable armor, turning them into the ultimate peacekeepers. No criminal could escape their sight, and his hand spread order throughout his kingdom. But in the hunt to vanquish all evil, one must be watchful of their own desires, lest they begin to see this corruption everywhere. As his quest for justice went on, his determination slowly turned into paranoia. It seemed that no matter how many he caught and imprisoned, more would creep from the dark shady corners and take their place. His laws did not stop them, but merely forced them to adapt and take on new forms. To stop this, he began to lay down new laws and harsher punishments, but this wave of madness would not be halted. His insanity led to dozens of new rules being instated with each passing week, and death soon became a penalty for all. Thieves and dissenters were hung from the same gallows, and the executioner's blade went through the necks of murderers and drunks all the same. In time, the people fled his kingdom, seeking refuge from his savage knights and suffocating laws. In the end, cruelty and violence did consume his lands, but by the kind that was brought from his own hand.
The crazed titan that strides across the abandoned kingdom is all that remains of this fallen king. Its dozen eyes scour the wreckage and ruin for those who would bring crime and chaos to its calm and perfect world. He who stands on high shall look down upon the invading scum and judge them most thoroughly. In one hand is an effigial heart, which bears the sins of the accused. In the other is a vile fang that drips with venom and corruption. This rotted tooth is the embodiment of its laws and rules, all condensed into a single dripping artifact. If the accused is truly innocent, than the heart shall rise upward, unburdened by sin and immorality. If they are guilty, than it shall hang heavy with its mistakes and foul deeds. Unfortunately, the black fang is a corrupt and cruel thing, as it finds any excuse or mistake worthy of damnation. Very few are shown to be innocent by its crooked scale, and those deemed guilty are strangled or beheaded by its horrible tendril. Even in death, though, one cannot escape its vile justice. The souls of those slain by its hand are swallowed and held, forever trapped within its fleshy prison. It is said that one can hear their tormented cries echoing from its hollow stomach as it stalks the land, and a pair of luminous eyes can be seen peering from the impossible darkness. Who is this strange prisoner who hides behind these bars? Is it the piece of the angel that has awakened to find itself trapped within flawed mortal flesh? Or is it the king himself, who has fallen victim to the cruel system that he created?
Finally we've reached the last of the fallen lords, and I have to say this one might be my favorite of the bunch. I do really love the other three, but the strangeness of this design is what really gets me. Never thought that the monstrosity of corrupt justice would be a double-sided peacock man.