There once was a human man named Eldrax. Eldrax was raised poorly by a mother who never loved him and a society that was disgusted by him. The poor boy only wanted to be loved. As he grew older, that want for affection turned into a sense of hatred. He despised those who dared to cut off a basic human's needs for so long. Eventually, he snapped, and he left in search of something that he heard could grant someone immense power. The Philosopher's Stone. Only the greatest of alchemists could create it, and he knew a place far away that had many alchemists ready to sacrifice everything for such a powerful artifact. It took him about three years, but finally, he made it to Eldland. After recruiting about fifty alchemists, he was ready. He had the alchemists begin the ritual as he stood in the middle of a hollowed out colosseum. It was going perfectly, until one of the alchemists had to sneeze. Even the slightest decrease in power caused the stone to go berserk. Instead of the smooth transition from each phase, it instantly turned blood red. Eldrax watched in horror as the life force of the alchemists were seemingly drained by the stone. Once it accumulated enough energy, it drove itself deep into Eldrax's chest. When he woke up, he noticed the surrounding area was turned to gold. As he looked down at his hands, it seemed that he too was turned to gold. He did in fact get the power he desired, just not in the way he thought he would. Still satisfied with the outcome, he molded Eldland into his perfect kingdom. Over the years, his form turned more monstrous. He grew horns, got MUCH bigger, and had two pairs of eyes. He was no longer the man he was before, but he was okay with that. He hated the man he was before. He was now Eldlich, the Golden Lord. The ruler of Cursed Eldland and all of its inhabitants. His life was perfect now.