Once a kind of mercenary in the service of the heroes, The Blightlord was now something worse, marching with heavy steps and animated with a grim determination, he hoped to find Moonlight, he burst in a fat and heavy laugh, proof of the diseases that lived and developped on him, a chubby little horned creature came out of the hole from the bottom of his armor then scaled his armor to perch on his right shoulder pad and began fiddling the bell on the horn of his back-pack, with a mischievous laughter at every sound it made, there were small metallic sounds as the policemens bullets were ejected, replaced by small bumps on his armor, he turned his head left and right, his fluorescent green lenses staring malevolently at his surroundings...
[ @
Teddie Horror , here's the Blightlord, now a steel and flesh abomination!]