Zox looks down at this new world with disgust. Pitiful.
Zox surveys from afar as the others make what they want and construct their own dominions. Interesting.
Zox must waste no time. Living creatures, from what Zox can understand, require an atmosphere and such if they are to live on the surface. Zox has no need for such trifle things, so neither shall Zox's spawn.
With this thought in mind, Zox focuses Zox's power into the deeper parts of the planet, past the black soil, the unliving rock and the other worldly matters. Once Zox has focused deep enough, Zox begins working.
Zox uses Zox's energy to tunnel out a small system for those who will carry out Zox's will, all twisting black tunnels and large, circular rooms unlit by any light. Once sufficient quarters have been set deep within the veins of the planet, Zox works on Zox's spawn.
Tall, lithe creatures, a little over seven feet in height. Black scales adorning their bodies, glowing eyes, like those of a snake, deep emerald. Strong, thin limbs, and dozens of needle-sharp teeth and claws. No need to set out and hunt just yet, the will of their creator and the nourishing darkness will sustain them for a time.