Accelerator
2019-02-16, 10:01 AM
Ok. First post on this forum!
Apologies if I made any mistakes. It said 'homebrew design'. So I let myself in.
Szonyeg, the invisible carpets
Progeny of the Great White Hunter
Demon of the First circle
The demon stands in his room, confused. His friends were here several hours ago, but now no longer. He is alone. Searching about with its four eyes, it sees nothing. Yet, it hears it. A faint rustling. A faint shiver. A faint sound, of cloth and movement. Then, his area of vision blurs and darkens. He looks up, eyes wide open in horror. Too late. The Szonyeg has caught him in his grasp, and with a sick crack, broke his bones, and digested him.
The Szonyeg, is invisible to mortal eyes and weak spirits. But if it were to be seen with one with enough clarity of perception, it would appear as a strange, coloured carpet, albeit one that closely mimics the colour of the surface it is on. Others, are not so lucky. The Szonyeg is an ambush predator. Days and days pass, and it lays there, either curled up or laying flat on the floor. Its body is composed of immensely muscular fibers, and it is flat and spread out, like a sheet. One side of the Szonyeg is composed out of a shape and colour-shifting surface, allowing it to perfectly reproduce any image or background. This is the surface exposed to the world, allowing the demon to hide nearly anywhere in Malfeas. The other side contains a multitude of tiny mouths, grasping and tearing hooks, extendable poisonous spines, and pores that can secrete deadly acid. It lays in wait, for days, until some unlucky prey stumbles upon it.
Then, it leaps, and enfolds the prey, muffling its screams with its charms, muscular body grappling, crushing, and squeezing it. Microscopic hooks tearing apart skin and sinew. Spines, injecting it with neurotoxic and spiritoxic venom. Pores, weeping acid, softening the body for consumption. The Szonyeg then wraps itself around its prey to prevent spillage of ichor and viscera, and using shuffling, peristaltic motions, moves to the corner of the room***. Moments later, its friends burst through the doors, hearing a thud. But could only scratch their heads and shake their heads as they beheld an empty room, and close the door behind them, not realizing that if they had simply extended a foot, they would have touched their friends corpse, and the beast that ate him.
Sorcerers summon these monsters for a variety of reasons. Sometimes, to dispose of corpses. Sometimes, to terrorize a mortal fortress or household. Many are the legends within the threshold, that speak of inhabitants of a house that offended a sorcerer disappearing one by one, with strange, inviting whispers drifting through the walls, of screams and thuds which when investigated reveal nothing. Or of a group of travellers that enter a dusty, abandoned house, only to wake up and find one of their compatriots missing. Or, if the sorcerer is particularly brave, he can put the Szonyeg on top of himself, and use it like a cloak, using the shimmering, colour-shifting skin to mask his approach.
Fast charms:
Invisibility - The surface of the Szonyeg shifts to whatever is behind it, making it appear just like it. Mortal eyes are completely deceived, with no chance of detecting it. Those with essence channeling, receive a penalty equivalent to the Szonyeg's essence.
No smell, no sound - The Szonyeg shifts its stealth to other factors of its body... or its wearer. This muffles any sound or smell that could give its position away. The charm is powerful enough to muffle loud screams, the crunch of bones, and the stench of rotting meat.
Concept: Ok, I'm thinking of having the Szonyeg be used as a form of deadly ambush predator, like a horror movie monster. Not truly... sentient. I mean, you can talk to it, and it can understand you. Its also not very interested in much things beyond eating and catching. They crush bodies and pulp bones beneath their muscular masses. And get this, can drink memories. Not anything specific, mind you. They suck at that. But they definitely know enough to know how their friends look like. Which one likes to be alone. How they are related to the victim. So they imitate their newest prey's voice, and call out to their fathers or mothers, calling for help, dragging more people into its maw.
Puska, the Thrice-headed centipedes
Progeny of the Living Tower
Demon of the First Circle
The Puska is a beautiful creature. Made out of a silvery, multicoloured, segmented crystal, with jewels studding its length and with three heads. Each head of a Puska contains a single eye, a glowing ruby with an inner fire. The main body itself is scaled, with the ability to climb on or twine on nearly any sort of surface. Many use the Puska as jewellery, as its appearance is beautiful and pleasing to the eye . But that is never its true, main use. Octavian is no social dilettante. The Puska was made in service for war, like many of his progeny. Upon a command, the Puska open their mouths wide. Lightning Essence intermixed with Air Essence, and a glowing, screeching ball of power is launched from its mouth, streaking through the air faster than an arrow and quicker than the mortal eye can track. The ball is composed out of volatile energy, easing causing deadly injuries*, setting wood aflame, and turning stone red-hot and molten if enough were to strike it.** Each head of the Puska spits out a ball one after another, their sensitive red eyes allowing them to calculate complex trajectories, angles, and distances with the ease a man may breathe. *****Their tendency to take turns to fire means that a Puska can vomit out a continuous, non-stop stream of projectiles, allowing them to pin down their victims behind stone battlements and inside trenches, forcing them to move around or thin their numbers by rushing at it.
In the wars of Malfeas, the Puska are often used to kill off mass charges of weak demons, and are draped across frames where they can rest and Attack at any angle. In Creation, it is much the same, with cults and sorcerers using Puska to rob treasuries and storming official buildings.
Some have breeded and mutated the Puska, merging their heads together and enhancing its power with Malfean fungi and Kimberrian Lichen. Their bodies are now short, squat, thick, and nearly immobile. They have a single head, and a single mouth, with three eyes clustered about them. They now vomit a single bolt, sacrificing rate of fire for firepower.**** Their projectile are now even deadlier, transforming solid stone into molten slag or explode amongst a squad of demons, causing horrific, injuries of melting flesh and green sun wasting.
*Kills mortals with ease. Not much use against guys like blood apes, though
**First hits like normal. Subsequent hits get one more dice. Then another. And another. Until it just falls down.
***I need a good drawback and a good limit break
****Bazooka
***** Whatever weapon analogue you’re thinking of? They got better range. And are self-aiming.
Lazado, the Rebellious Rabble Rousers
The Lazado have many forms. Perhaps he has the form of a man, wearing a trenchcoat, smoke billowing about his face. Perhaps a man, dressed all in green, with a feathered cap.*** Perhaps a thief in the night, smirking and grinning, with a hat he tips to the ladies. No matter. The Lazado is a rebel and destroyer of authority. Created by some 3rd Circle as a slight against the priests of Cecylene, the Lazado are rebels, malcontents, and generally, anarchists against all forms of authority. Whether to kick out all the teachers in a school and let the children run wild, or to overthrow the Kings and distribute the treasury to the rabble outside. Often, he causes trouble for the princes of hell, inciting serfs to rebellion. Were he to be caught by Cecylene, his demise would be slow and painful. Which is why every single Lazado thirsts to enter the blue skies and clean air of Creation, to wrack havoc.
Let us say, a ordinary kingdom within the Threshold. The king is... mostly just. A few things which made his subjects grumble and the monks titter. Heavy taxes, like normal. Cruel and greedy nobles. Squalor and ghettoes. There, the Lazado appears. He gathers a posse of men, all discontented like himself, angry and unhappy. Perhaps they had nothing to do, or the king's policies cost them their job. He calls them some pretentious name, and goes about wrecking havoc. Burning down government buildings. Waylaying tax collectors. Breaking into the houses of the rich princes and barons, stealing their treasures and families, then distributing it to the poor.
The law enforcement tries to catch him, but they fail. They attack once, slaying dozens of soldiers, then retreating into forests and bushes, escaping from them. Nightwatchers chase after them, only to be delayed as sympathetic citizens help hide them or help ward them off. Door to door searches are made, while they hid in the cellars of their supporters.
He makes appearances into market squares and public streets, making grand speeches about tyranny and freedom and all that sort.
At first, people look at him and nod in agreement. It was unfair that taxes had been raised so high. Then, as nods become shouts of agreement, the speeches change. It changes, shifting and altering, until the words bear little resemblance to reality. The king has raised taxes. The king has levied fines. The king has taken your daughter and wife for his harem, although they are standing right next to you. The king has slain your dog, although it died of sickness 2 weeks ago. The king murdered your family for speaking a word against him, though you go home to them. The king does not worship the gods, although he just visited the temple of the unconquered sun a month ago. The king has taken thousands of people for sacrifice to the Yozis, despite no such thing happening. Again and again, until the Lazado can shout about how the King has stolen the sun and darkened the world and thus must be slain for light to reenter the world, and the crowd can shout in thunderous agreement, all while sweating beneath the noonday sun.
Then the crowd storms the battlements and the fortress. Knights and elite commanders are cut down by demonically blessed arrows, shot by warriors enhanced by unholy magic, burying into throats and eyes, leaving the soldiers defenseless. All is burned. Nobles, princesses, barons, elders, all those of temporal power and high office, dragged into the streets to be murdered gruesomely. Priceless objects and artifacts, money stored within the treasury, anything of value, is taken and distributed amongst the people and the poor.* Courtrooms and lawhouses are torn down, for the people will not obey the laws of tyrants, but their own.** Then it gets worse and worse. Next are the leaders of the rebellion, for do they not send men to die for their cause? Then the city elders. For do they not tyrannize others, based on seniority? Until at last, children murder their parents in their sleep for telling them to go to bed, and silence falls.
Whether or not the people see through this spell, the Lazado will nod his head, turn about, and skip off merrily, singing a jaunty tune, towards another kingdom or city-state.
Motivation: To tear down all governing authority, no matter how small
Stats:
Attributes:
Charisma 4, Appearance 4, Dexterity 3, Strength 3, Intelligence 2, Stamina 3,
Abilities:
Archery 5 (+3 surprise), Melee 4 (+3 against armour), Social 5 (+3 for attacking authority), Presence 2 (+3 for crowds), Larceny 4 (+2 for breaking and entering)Bureaucracy 1 (+1 for insurgencies), Stealth 4 (+3 amongst others), Craft 3 (+3 for improvised weapons), Dodge 4, Ride 2, Sail 2, Linguistics 2, War 5 (+3 small unit tactics), Occult 1 (+3 demon beckoning), Investigation 2 (+1 for finding malcontents, +2 for finding weaknesses in authority), Resistance 3, Medicine 1 (+2 for poor conditions), Lore 1, Performance 2 (+2 in charming ladies +1 for the common people
Quick charms:
I'm a man of da people! - No matter where and when, the Lazado will appear as a perfectly normal citizen and native. Were he to walk down the street, no one will give him a second glance
One of us! One of us! - Whenever he speaks, the mortal feels as if the Lazado not only has suffered as they have suffered, and knows how they feel, they find their own hearts resonating with him. Any mortal of no significant station or political office, has an external penalty equal to the Lazado's (Essence - 1) to himself whenever trying to resist his rhetoric or lies.
Chanting of the men - Singing a jaunty song together, the Lazado and his victims sing together, and in so bind their essences ever closer, letting him impart some of their power. This lets the Lazado enhance his elite guard, granting them an advantage against ordinary mortal soldiers****
Down with the state! - The Lazado makes a case against authority, either pointing out their flaws, exaggerating their crimes and failures, or outright inventing them. Even if the king were to be a selfless saint who works flawlessly, day in and day out for the people, they will still be turned against him, eventually. This charm can inflame feelings, compell people, or even outright rewrite their memories.
*Yes, this is a reference
**In other words, anarchy
***Another reference
****Not sure how powerful this should be.
Orvos, the needle doctors
The Orvos is a demon, resembling that of a bald old man, with both eyes blinded, and a hobble. This is an illusion, though. In a pinch, a Orvos can move as fast as a horse, and his sensitive nose and ears work as well for him as sight. His eyes do not detect light. Instead, they detect the flow of essence and life within the veins of living creatures, allowing him to assess their state. Their health, their level of energy, poison, disease, all can be diagnosed nearly instantly, in a single glance. More difficult disease require him to smell them, or to ask them questions about their lifestyle. But generally, it is quite easy. But that is not his main purpose. His main purpose, is to enhance bodies.
The teeth of an Orvos are sharp and needle like, capable of constantly regenerating themselves throughout his lifetime. The saliva of an Orvos acts as both an anesthetic and a antiseptic. Plucking out several teeth from his mouth, the Orvos looks upon the body of the patient. He sees the flow of essence and Qi. He sees how it flows, and how it pools. He sees how it shifts around, and how it pools. He sees the concentrations of Qi in various parts of the body, and in the various portions of the spine. And then, he begins to work.
His teeth contain essence, and are sharp. Inserting them into the patient's body, he stimulates their body and soul, increasing their native attributes and abilities. Stimulating the essence within a man's brain may make him cleverer, wittier, and more focused. While pricking his sternum and the middle of his back, vastly increases his vitality, enabling him to lift a cart or heft a heavy goremaul in a single hand.* Of course, for less important patients, the Orvos can simply do things like increase their resistance against disease, relieve their pain, or enhance their body recovery**
However, such a thing is always fleeting. Within a week, such an effect fades, and the patient has to come back for more. There are limits, however.***
The Orvos has a hatred of professions that use different methods than himself. He gains a point of limit whenever he sees a doctor, surgery tools, or medicinal herbs.
*Training effect, focused upon enhancing attributes instead of abilities. No xp debt, unless its permanent
**Yeah, its acupuncture
***Not sure
Sator, the living tent
~Demon of the first circle.
The Sator is a strange creature. A single, circular body, with a single mouth in the center. Centered about its central mass, are 8 large wings, with the structure similar to that of a bat, with fingers acting as a framework, and the membranes composed out of a strange mixture of gel and mucus. The Sator’s mouth has many sharp teeth within, and ringing it, are several spots that glow with bioluminescence. Eyes, stud the central mass, letting it see and observe the world about it. The Sator has no great claws. No great strength. And no great poison. And yet, it must feed. How?
By acting as a house.
The Sator’s eight wings can easily fold, twist, split up, and later their size and dimensions easily. It can easily stretch up to a hundred meters, letting it shelter a single battalion. Or it can shrink, and become a small tent that only protects half a dozen people. The Sator has several charms. One of these, is a massive amount of durability and resistance against the elements. The Sator is equally at home in the blazing sands of the desert, the acidic waters of Kimberly, the darkness of the Ebon Dragon, the coldness of the North, and other more insane places. And it can add the its durability to its inhabitants. There are Sator at the bottom of the ocean, acting as bases for Outcastes and Infernalists alike, containing supplies and equipment for pirating and scouting. Or any other, insanely dangerous places, where people need to store perishable goods in a hostile environment.
The Sator has no doors, windows, or hinges. Its transparent gel-like membranes, serve as all the protection needed to protect from the elements, bolstered by Essence. The membrane is transparent, though tinged purple, and to exit or enter the space occupied by the Sator all one needs to do is to close their mouth, and walk through the wing membrane, the gel parting from their bodies and reforming behind them. Unfortunately, this same ease of exit and entering acts against anyone entering martial conflict. The Sator allows one to enter and exit with ease.... and that applies to weapons. Anyone firing upon the inhabitants within the Sator will find that the gel-wings will be no impediment to any missile or ranged-weapon they bring to bear.
A safe refuge, is always precious. But there is always a reason why the Sator is not used more often. It hungers, often. Most can scrape by by grabbing fish, cows, nearby animals, or feeding it alchemical potions that keep it sated for weeks. However, the moment such methods fail, the Sator will turn against its inhabitants, extending its long tongue and flashing the light spots ringing its mouth in a hypnotic fashion, stunning its prey with a light show before the tongue grabs them and lifts them into its mouth, where its sharp teeth will devour them, showering gore and viscera upon the survivors.
Fullankar, the textbook wasps.
Demon of the First Circle
Progeny of the Obsessive Scholar
The Obsessive Scholar is a patron of the arts and of knowledge, with a grand wish to spread understanding and enlightenment throughout Malfeas, the Underworld, Creation, and Heaven itself. Each beggar a poet. Each street urchin a weapons grandmaster. Each street sweeper an artist. Sadly, in these fallen times, most do not have the time nor the inclination to study his books, no matter how well-written or how comprehensive. Why read about the vagaries of the stars, when one is wondering where to find his next meal? Why read about the Treatises of Ahnschlus, when one is trying to till the field for the next harvest? And so, the Obsessive Scholar, with some hesitation, made the decision for them. He made the Fullankar.
The Fullankar, in their dormant form, appear as any form of information recording, and acts as a comprehensive guide and work on a single subject, whether it is melee, war, or medicine. Whether in first-age crystal tablet, paperback book, or silken scroll. In this form, they are near-indistinguishable from other, more mundane books. Using the Fullankar in this form allows one to train themselves up as if they were studying under a tutor, and reduce training times to a third. The knowledge and words themselves slotting themselves into a reader's mind, the pictures, inscriptions, and diagrams, seemingly coming alive on the page itself, the reader's body subconsciously twitching as the book describes how one swings a sword or how to carry out a surgical procedure.
In the other form, the book itself unfurls. Transforming into a Fullankar's full form. It is the size of a dog. A stinger, composed out of punctuation. Wings, made from pictures. Feet, made from adjectives. A shell composed out of nouns. Flickering in and out of existence with compound eyes made from verbs, the Fullankar has a stinger composed out of prepositions, dripping with venom. It is the venom that is key to its abilities. When the Fullankar stings, there is no pain. And then, enlightenment.
The venom of the Fullankar is composed out of liquified and materialized knowledge, an exact copy of the knowledge composed in its other form. It is not harsh. Not much worse than a bee sting. As the poison courses through one's veins, the information within can be accessed by the mind of the victim, allowing it to act as if it had been trained in it all his or her life. A peasant farmer can become a melee fighter that surpasses all but the greatest of mortals, specializing in the use of hoes. An untrained beggar can become the greatest mortal surgeon in the entire region. An newbie brat can become a general that wins against all but the greatest of forces arrayed against him***.
This comes with a price, though. It being poison, and the Obsessive Scholar not realizing the complications caused due to himself being a second circle demon, the poison itself hinders the victim, or beneficiary, of the Fullankar. A swordsman will find his tongue numb, his speech slurred. A surgeon would find that, although his fingers are now nimble and precise, his feet have become sluggish, forcing him to use a cane. A great general's skin now produces a horrible smell, forcing all but the bravest of courtesans to flee from him. *
And it being poison, the Fullankar's toxin does damage to the body, costing one lethal health level per week. After several weeks**, the poison runs its course, and is purged by the mortal's native defenses, and disappears. And with it, goes the knowledge and puissance it grants.****
*Never will the penalty of using the poison of a Fullankar ever negate the gifts of its venom.
** A month
*** Increased dots, plus specialty. War 5 with a specialty against being outnumbered is a hell of a thing
**** I think I should put a limit on how many times one can get stung by a Fullankar before they collapse into a puddle of nouns.
Agyu, the blazing eyes of hell
Within hell, dancing lights are seen, floating and bobbing on unseen tides and waves. That is the Agyu. Spheres of Malfean crystal, with flickering green flames within them, glowing with a green light. A single symbol is on them, and the Agyu points these at things they examine, like the pupil of an eye, its flickering inner flame casting strange shadows. They are mostly harmless, flitting about Malfeas's layers in great swarms, avoiding the predators and acids of kimberry, escaping the darkness of the Ebon Dragon. But of course, all in Malfeas earn their keep. And the Agyu earn theirs, by being weapons.
The Agyu were made by an ancient warlord of Hell. Seeing that his demons lacked firepower, he devised the Agyu to act as installable weapons powered by an imitation of Ligier's power. The Agyu can meld themselves into a demons' flesh, their bodies warping into elsewhere so only their runic pupil sticks out from the surface of the demons' body. Only one Agyu can share a host at a time. Any more, and the host begins to suffer from burns, similar to green sun wasting, as the power of the Agyu seeps into them.
Each Agyu contains a great inferno, a pale imitation of the power of the Green Sun. And though relatively weak, it is still a force to be reckoned with. They can release this power in great exhalations, blasting apart fortress walls in a blast of green light, or destroying armies by releasing predatory gouts of green flame, that seek out the closest living thing to set alight and are immune to water. A sorcerer using an Agyu and backed by other spells can singlehandedly take on entire armies. So, too, has the Agyu gained notoriety when used by Yozi cults.
Of course, such power comes at a price. The Agyu can only swivel by a minimal amount when bonded, and so the host must aim for them. And the power of the Agyu is such that it must be expended each day, or else the essence build-up will injure the host.*
*Each day, the host rolls Stamina + Resistance against difficulty 1. Failure leads to a single lethal health level of damage. Each day, the difficulty increases, as does the damage. Until the host either dies, or the Agyu is fired. Then the difficulty and damage is reset.
Arynek, the chittering shadows
No one really knows who made them. Perhaps they were a curse, made for sport by a bored Deva in the time before. Perhaps a weapon made to destroy the source of Exaltations. Perhaps, a Yozi made them, to punish and torment the demons. It does not matter.
It all starts the same. A demon, wandering within the dark corridoors of Malfeas, hears a chattering sound. It starts. It turns around. It looks about. And then, it lights a torch, hoping to use the light to defend itself from whatever monster lurking within the depths. That is its worst and last mistake. The torchlight reveals flickering shadows... and one of them leaps forward, ten horribly elongated fingers reaching out towards the demon. The demon flees, running through catacombs and deserted corridoors, hiding, running, holding the torch aloft, attempting to flee the horrible abomination. It does not matter. The demon pauses for breathe, panting in exhuastion... and then screams as one of the fingers finally touch him.
The Arnyek are a race of shadow monsters, looking like horribly distorted shadows of human beings. Fingers reaching down to their legs. No head, nor facial features, but a pair of smoldering eyes in the upper section of its chest. The Arnyek does not exist. Not truly. They are absences of light, and so in places where no light exists they can not harm anyone. It is this reason that they seek out places without light, and make their customary chattering sound, hoping to instigate the lighting of fires and lamps. If there is already a lamp, then..... well, the Arnyek can always be counted on to be opportunistic.
The Arnyek's touch is rotting and twisted. The moment it touches anybody, it induces a crippling effect, turning the body into a frozen, immobile, pain-wracked husk. The person is left immobile for five days, until he finally expires. This always creates a hungry ghost, searching for vengeance against something that has probably long since departed.
Apologies if I made any mistakes. It said 'homebrew design'. So I let myself in.
Szonyeg, the invisible carpets
Progeny of the Great White Hunter
Demon of the First circle
The demon stands in his room, confused. His friends were here several hours ago, but now no longer. He is alone. Searching about with its four eyes, it sees nothing. Yet, it hears it. A faint rustling. A faint shiver. A faint sound, of cloth and movement. Then, his area of vision blurs and darkens. He looks up, eyes wide open in horror. Too late. The Szonyeg has caught him in his grasp, and with a sick crack, broke his bones, and digested him.
The Szonyeg, is invisible to mortal eyes and weak spirits. But if it were to be seen with one with enough clarity of perception, it would appear as a strange, coloured carpet, albeit one that closely mimics the colour of the surface it is on. Others, are not so lucky. The Szonyeg is an ambush predator. Days and days pass, and it lays there, either curled up or laying flat on the floor. Its body is composed of immensely muscular fibers, and it is flat and spread out, like a sheet. One side of the Szonyeg is composed out of a shape and colour-shifting surface, allowing it to perfectly reproduce any image or background. This is the surface exposed to the world, allowing the demon to hide nearly anywhere in Malfeas. The other side contains a multitude of tiny mouths, grasping and tearing hooks, extendable poisonous spines, and pores that can secrete deadly acid. It lays in wait, for days, until some unlucky prey stumbles upon it.
Then, it leaps, and enfolds the prey, muffling its screams with its charms, muscular body grappling, crushing, and squeezing it. Microscopic hooks tearing apart skin and sinew. Spines, injecting it with neurotoxic and spiritoxic venom. Pores, weeping acid, softening the body for consumption. The Szonyeg then wraps itself around its prey to prevent spillage of ichor and viscera, and using shuffling, peristaltic motions, moves to the corner of the room***. Moments later, its friends burst through the doors, hearing a thud. But could only scratch their heads and shake their heads as they beheld an empty room, and close the door behind them, not realizing that if they had simply extended a foot, they would have touched their friends corpse, and the beast that ate him.
Sorcerers summon these monsters for a variety of reasons. Sometimes, to dispose of corpses. Sometimes, to terrorize a mortal fortress or household. Many are the legends within the threshold, that speak of inhabitants of a house that offended a sorcerer disappearing one by one, with strange, inviting whispers drifting through the walls, of screams and thuds which when investigated reveal nothing. Or of a group of travellers that enter a dusty, abandoned house, only to wake up and find one of their compatriots missing. Or, if the sorcerer is particularly brave, he can put the Szonyeg on top of himself, and use it like a cloak, using the shimmering, colour-shifting skin to mask his approach.
Fast charms:
Invisibility - The surface of the Szonyeg shifts to whatever is behind it, making it appear just like it. Mortal eyes are completely deceived, with no chance of detecting it. Those with essence channeling, receive a penalty equivalent to the Szonyeg's essence.
No smell, no sound - The Szonyeg shifts its stealth to other factors of its body... or its wearer. This muffles any sound or smell that could give its position away. The charm is powerful enough to muffle loud screams, the crunch of bones, and the stench of rotting meat.
Concept: Ok, I'm thinking of having the Szonyeg be used as a form of deadly ambush predator, like a horror movie monster. Not truly... sentient. I mean, you can talk to it, and it can understand you. Its also not very interested in much things beyond eating and catching. They crush bodies and pulp bones beneath their muscular masses. And get this, can drink memories. Not anything specific, mind you. They suck at that. But they definitely know enough to know how their friends look like. Which one likes to be alone. How they are related to the victim. So they imitate their newest prey's voice, and call out to their fathers or mothers, calling for help, dragging more people into its maw.
Puska, the Thrice-headed centipedes
Progeny of the Living Tower
Demon of the First Circle
The Puska is a beautiful creature. Made out of a silvery, multicoloured, segmented crystal, with jewels studding its length and with three heads. Each head of a Puska contains a single eye, a glowing ruby with an inner fire. The main body itself is scaled, with the ability to climb on or twine on nearly any sort of surface. Many use the Puska as jewellery, as its appearance is beautiful and pleasing to the eye . But that is never its true, main use. Octavian is no social dilettante. The Puska was made in service for war, like many of his progeny. Upon a command, the Puska open their mouths wide. Lightning Essence intermixed with Air Essence, and a glowing, screeching ball of power is launched from its mouth, streaking through the air faster than an arrow and quicker than the mortal eye can track. The ball is composed out of volatile energy, easing causing deadly injuries*, setting wood aflame, and turning stone red-hot and molten if enough were to strike it.** Each head of the Puska spits out a ball one after another, their sensitive red eyes allowing them to calculate complex trajectories, angles, and distances with the ease a man may breathe. *****Their tendency to take turns to fire means that a Puska can vomit out a continuous, non-stop stream of projectiles, allowing them to pin down their victims behind stone battlements and inside trenches, forcing them to move around or thin their numbers by rushing at it.
In the wars of Malfeas, the Puska are often used to kill off mass charges of weak demons, and are draped across frames where they can rest and Attack at any angle. In Creation, it is much the same, with cults and sorcerers using Puska to rob treasuries and storming official buildings.
Some have breeded and mutated the Puska, merging their heads together and enhancing its power with Malfean fungi and Kimberrian Lichen. Their bodies are now short, squat, thick, and nearly immobile. They have a single head, and a single mouth, with three eyes clustered about them. They now vomit a single bolt, sacrificing rate of fire for firepower.**** Their projectile are now even deadlier, transforming solid stone into molten slag or explode amongst a squad of demons, causing horrific, injuries of melting flesh and green sun wasting.
*Kills mortals with ease. Not much use against guys like blood apes, though
**First hits like normal. Subsequent hits get one more dice. Then another. And another. Until it just falls down.
***I need a good drawback and a good limit break
****Bazooka
***** Whatever weapon analogue you’re thinking of? They got better range. And are self-aiming.
Lazado, the Rebellious Rabble Rousers
The Lazado have many forms. Perhaps he has the form of a man, wearing a trenchcoat, smoke billowing about his face. Perhaps a man, dressed all in green, with a feathered cap.*** Perhaps a thief in the night, smirking and grinning, with a hat he tips to the ladies. No matter. The Lazado is a rebel and destroyer of authority. Created by some 3rd Circle as a slight against the priests of Cecylene, the Lazado are rebels, malcontents, and generally, anarchists against all forms of authority. Whether to kick out all the teachers in a school and let the children run wild, or to overthrow the Kings and distribute the treasury to the rabble outside. Often, he causes trouble for the princes of hell, inciting serfs to rebellion. Were he to be caught by Cecylene, his demise would be slow and painful. Which is why every single Lazado thirsts to enter the blue skies and clean air of Creation, to wrack havoc.
Let us say, a ordinary kingdom within the Threshold. The king is... mostly just. A few things which made his subjects grumble and the monks titter. Heavy taxes, like normal. Cruel and greedy nobles. Squalor and ghettoes. There, the Lazado appears. He gathers a posse of men, all discontented like himself, angry and unhappy. Perhaps they had nothing to do, or the king's policies cost them their job. He calls them some pretentious name, and goes about wrecking havoc. Burning down government buildings. Waylaying tax collectors. Breaking into the houses of the rich princes and barons, stealing their treasures and families, then distributing it to the poor.
The law enforcement tries to catch him, but they fail. They attack once, slaying dozens of soldiers, then retreating into forests and bushes, escaping from them. Nightwatchers chase after them, only to be delayed as sympathetic citizens help hide them or help ward them off. Door to door searches are made, while they hid in the cellars of their supporters.
He makes appearances into market squares and public streets, making grand speeches about tyranny and freedom and all that sort.
At first, people look at him and nod in agreement. It was unfair that taxes had been raised so high. Then, as nods become shouts of agreement, the speeches change. It changes, shifting and altering, until the words bear little resemblance to reality. The king has raised taxes. The king has levied fines. The king has taken your daughter and wife for his harem, although they are standing right next to you. The king has slain your dog, although it died of sickness 2 weeks ago. The king murdered your family for speaking a word against him, though you go home to them. The king does not worship the gods, although he just visited the temple of the unconquered sun a month ago. The king has taken thousands of people for sacrifice to the Yozis, despite no such thing happening. Again and again, until the Lazado can shout about how the King has stolen the sun and darkened the world and thus must be slain for light to reenter the world, and the crowd can shout in thunderous agreement, all while sweating beneath the noonday sun.
Then the crowd storms the battlements and the fortress. Knights and elite commanders are cut down by demonically blessed arrows, shot by warriors enhanced by unholy magic, burying into throats and eyes, leaving the soldiers defenseless. All is burned. Nobles, princesses, barons, elders, all those of temporal power and high office, dragged into the streets to be murdered gruesomely. Priceless objects and artifacts, money stored within the treasury, anything of value, is taken and distributed amongst the people and the poor.* Courtrooms and lawhouses are torn down, for the people will not obey the laws of tyrants, but their own.** Then it gets worse and worse. Next are the leaders of the rebellion, for do they not send men to die for their cause? Then the city elders. For do they not tyrannize others, based on seniority? Until at last, children murder their parents in their sleep for telling them to go to bed, and silence falls.
Whether or not the people see through this spell, the Lazado will nod his head, turn about, and skip off merrily, singing a jaunty tune, towards another kingdom or city-state.
Motivation: To tear down all governing authority, no matter how small
Stats:
Attributes:
Charisma 4, Appearance 4, Dexterity 3, Strength 3, Intelligence 2, Stamina 3,
Abilities:
Archery 5 (+3 surprise), Melee 4 (+3 against armour), Social 5 (+3 for attacking authority), Presence 2 (+3 for crowds), Larceny 4 (+2 for breaking and entering)Bureaucracy 1 (+1 for insurgencies), Stealth 4 (+3 amongst others), Craft 3 (+3 for improvised weapons), Dodge 4, Ride 2, Sail 2, Linguistics 2, War 5 (+3 small unit tactics), Occult 1 (+3 demon beckoning), Investigation 2 (+1 for finding malcontents, +2 for finding weaknesses in authority), Resistance 3, Medicine 1 (+2 for poor conditions), Lore 1, Performance 2 (+2 in charming ladies +1 for the common people
Quick charms:
I'm a man of da people! - No matter where and when, the Lazado will appear as a perfectly normal citizen and native. Were he to walk down the street, no one will give him a second glance
One of us! One of us! - Whenever he speaks, the mortal feels as if the Lazado not only has suffered as they have suffered, and knows how they feel, they find their own hearts resonating with him. Any mortal of no significant station or political office, has an external penalty equal to the Lazado's (Essence - 1) to himself whenever trying to resist his rhetoric or lies.
Chanting of the men - Singing a jaunty song together, the Lazado and his victims sing together, and in so bind their essences ever closer, letting him impart some of their power. This lets the Lazado enhance his elite guard, granting them an advantage against ordinary mortal soldiers****
Down with the state! - The Lazado makes a case against authority, either pointing out their flaws, exaggerating their crimes and failures, or outright inventing them. Even if the king were to be a selfless saint who works flawlessly, day in and day out for the people, they will still be turned against him, eventually. This charm can inflame feelings, compell people, or even outright rewrite their memories.
*Yes, this is a reference
**In other words, anarchy
***Another reference
****Not sure how powerful this should be.
Orvos, the needle doctors
The Orvos is a demon, resembling that of a bald old man, with both eyes blinded, and a hobble. This is an illusion, though. In a pinch, a Orvos can move as fast as a horse, and his sensitive nose and ears work as well for him as sight. His eyes do not detect light. Instead, they detect the flow of essence and life within the veins of living creatures, allowing him to assess their state. Their health, their level of energy, poison, disease, all can be diagnosed nearly instantly, in a single glance. More difficult disease require him to smell them, or to ask them questions about their lifestyle. But generally, it is quite easy. But that is not his main purpose. His main purpose, is to enhance bodies.
The teeth of an Orvos are sharp and needle like, capable of constantly regenerating themselves throughout his lifetime. The saliva of an Orvos acts as both an anesthetic and a antiseptic. Plucking out several teeth from his mouth, the Orvos looks upon the body of the patient. He sees the flow of essence and Qi. He sees how it flows, and how it pools. He sees how it shifts around, and how it pools. He sees the concentrations of Qi in various parts of the body, and in the various portions of the spine. And then, he begins to work.
His teeth contain essence, and are sharp. Inserting them into the patient's body, he stimulates their body and soul, increasing their native attributes and abilities. Stimulating the essence within a man's brain may make him cleverer, wittier, and more focused. While pricking his sternum and the middle of his back, vastly increases his vitality, enabling him to lift a cart or heft a heavy goremaul in a single hand.* Of course, for less important patients, the Orvos can simply do things like increase their resistance against disease, relieve their pain, or enhance their body recovery**
However, such a thing is always fleeting. Within a week, such an effect fades, and the patient has to come back for more. There are limits, however.***
The Orvos has a hatred of professions that use different methods than himself. He gains a point of limit whenever he sees a doctor, surgery tools, or medicinal herbs.
*Training effect, focused upon enhancing attributes instead of abilities. No xp debt, unless its permanent
**Yeah, its acupuncture
***Not sure
Sator, the living tent
~Demon of the first circle.
The Sator is a strange creature. A single, circular body, with a single mouth in the center. Centered about its central mass, are 8 large wings, with the structure similar to that of a bat, with fingers acting as a framework, and the membranes composed out of a strange mixture of gel and mucus. The Sator’s mouth has many sharp teeth within, and ringing it, are several spots that glow with bioluminescence. Eyes, stud the central mass, letting it see and observe the world about it. The Sator has no great claws. No great strength. And no great poison. And yet, it must feed. How?
By acting as a house.
The Sator’s eight wings can easily fold, twist, split up, and later their size and dimensions easily. It can easily stretch up to a hundred meters, letting it shelter a single battalion. Or it can shrink, and become a small tent that only protects half a dozen people. The Sator has several charms. One of these, is a massive amount of durability and resistance against the elements. The Sator is equally at home in the blazing sands of the desert, the acidic waters of Kimberly, the darkness of the Ebon Dragon, the coldness of the North, and other more insane places. And it can add the its durability to its inhabitants. There are Sator at the bottom of the ocean, acting as bases for Outcastes and Infernalists alike, containing supplies and equipment for pirating and scouting. Or any other, insanely dangerous places, where people need to store perishable goods in a hostile environment.
The Sator has no doors, windows, or hinges. Its transparent gel-like membranes, serve as all the protection needed to protect from the elements, bolstered by Essence. The membrane is transparent, though tinged purple, and to exit or enter the space occupied by the Sator all one needs to do is to close their mouth, and walk through the wing membrane, the gel parting from their bodies and reforming behind them. Unfortunately, this same ease of exit and entering acts against anyone entering martial conflict. The Sator allows one to enter and exit with ease.... and that applies to weapons. Anyone firing upon the inhabitants within the Sator will find that the gel-wings will be no impediment to any missile or ranged-weapon they bring to bear.
A safe refuge, is always precious. But there is always a reason why the Sator is not used more often. It hungers, often. Most can scrape by by grabbing fish, cows, nearby animals, or feeding it alchemical potions that keep it sated for weeks. However, the moment such methods fail, the Sator will turn against its inhabitants, extending its long tongue and flashing the light spots ringing its mouth in a hypnotic fashion, stunning its prey with a light show before the tongue grabs them and lifts them into its mouth, where its sharp teeth will devour them, showering gore and viscera upon the survivors.
Fullankar, the textbook wasps.
Demon of the First Circle
Progeny of the Obsessive Scholar
The Obsessive Scholar is a patron of the arts and of knowledge, with a grand wish to spread understanding and enlightenment throughout Malfeas, the Underworld, Creation, and Heaven itself. Each beggar a poet. Each street urchin a weapons grandmaster. Each street sweeper an artist. Sadly, in these fallen times, most do not have the time nor the inclination to study his books, no matter how well-written or how comprehensive. Why read about the vagaries of the stars, when one is wondering where to find his next meal? Why read about the Treatises of Ahnschlus, when one is trying to till the field for the next harvest? And so, the Obsessive Scholar, with some hesitation, made the decision for them. He made the Fullankar.
The Fullankar, in their dormant form, appear as any form of information recording, and acts as a comprehensive guide and work on a single subject, whether it is melee, war, or medicine. Whether in first-age crystal tablet, paperback book, or silken scroll. In this form, they are near-indistinguishable from other, more mundane books. Using the Fullankar in this form allows one to train themselves up as if they were studying under a tutor, and reduce training times to a third. The knowledge and words themselves slotting themselves into a reader's mind, the pictures, inscriptions, and diagrams, seemingly coming alive on the page itself, the reader's body subconsciously twitching as the book describes how one swings a sword or how to carry out a surgical procedure.
In the other form, the book itself unfurls. Transforming into a Fullankar's full form. It is the size of a dog. A stinger, composed out of punctuation. Wings, made from pictures. Feet, made from adjectives. A shell composed out of nouns. Flickering in and out of existence with compound eyes made from verbs, the Fullankar has a stinger composed out of prepositions, dripping with venom. It is the venom that is key to its abilities. When the Fullankar stings, there is no pain. And then, enlightenment.
The venom of the Fullankar is composed out of liquified and materialized knowledge, an exact copy of the knowledge composed in its other form. It is not harsh. Not much worse than a bee sting. As the poison courses through one's veins, the information within can be accessed by the mind of the victim, allowing it to act as if it had been trained in it all his or her life. A peasant farmer can become a melee fighter that surpasses all but the greatest of mortals, specializing in the use of hoes. An untrained beggar can become the greatest mortal surgeon in the entire region. An newbie brat can become a general that wins against all but the greatest of forces arrayed against him***.
This comes with a price, though. It being poison, and the Obsessive Scholar not realizing the complications caused due to himself being a second circle demon, the poison itself hinders the victim, or beneficiary, of the Fullankar. A swordsman will find his tongue numb, his speech slurred. A surgeon would find that, although his fingers are now nimble and precise, his feet have become sluggish, forcing him to use a cane. A great general's skin now produces a horrible smell, forcing all but the bravest of courtesans to flee from him. *
And it being poison, the Fullankar's toxin does damage to the body, costing one lethal health level per week. After several weeks**, the poison runs its course, and is purged by the mortal's native defenses, and disappears. And with it, goes the knowledge and puissance it grants.****
*Never will the penalty of using the poison of a Fullankar ever negate the gifts of its venom.
** A month
*** Increased dots, plus specialty. War 5 with a specialty against being outnumbered is a hell of a thing
**** I think I should put a limit on how many times one can get stung by a Fullankar before they collapse into a puddle of nouns.
Agyu, the blazing eyes of hell
Within hell, dancing lights are seen, floating and bobbing on unseen tides and waves. That is the Agyu. Spheres of Malfean crystal, with flickering green flames within them, glowing with a green light. A single symbol is on them, and the Agyu points these at things they examine, like the pupil of an eye, its flickering inner flame casting strange shadows. They are mostly harmless, flitting about Malfeas's layers in great swarms, avoiding the predators and acids of kimberry, escaping the darkness of the Ebon Dragon. But of course, all in Malfeas earn their keep. And the Agyu earn theirs, by being weapons.
The Agyu were made by an ancient warlord of Hell. Seeing that his demons lacked firepower, he devised the Agyu to act as installable weapons powered by an imitation of Ligier's power. The Agyu can meld themselves into a demons' flesh, their bodies warping into elsewhere so only their runic pupil sticks out from the surface of the demons' body. Only one Agyu can share a host at a time. Any more, and the host begins to suffer from burns, similar to green sun wasting, as the power of the Agyu seeps into them.
Each Agyu contains a great inferno, a pale imitation of the power of the Green Sun. And though relatively weak, it is still a force to be reckoned with. They can release this power in great exhalations, blasting apart fortress walls in a blast of green light, or destroying armies by releasing predatory gouts of green flame, that seek out the closest living thing to set alight and are immune to water. A sorcerer using an Agyu and backed by other spells can singlehandedly take on entire armies. So, too, has the Agyu gained notoriety when used by Yozi cults.
Of course, such power comes at a price. The Agyu can only swivel by a minimal amount when bonded, and so the host must aim for them. And the power of the Agyu is such that it must be expended each day, or else the essence build-up will injure the host.*
*Each day, the host rolls Stamina + Resistance against difficulty 1. Failure leads to a single lethal health level of damage. Each day, the difficulty increases, as does the damage. Until the host either dies, or the Agyu is fired. Then the difficulty and damage is reset.
Arynek, the chittering shadows
No one really knows who made them. Perhaps they were a curse, made for sport by a bored Deva in the time before. Perhaps a weapon made to destroy the source of Exaltations. Perhaps, a Yozi made them, to punish and torment the demons. It does not matter.
It all starts the same. A demon, wandering within the dark corridoors of Malfeas, hears a chattering sound. It starts. It turns around. It looks about. And then, it lights a torch, hoping to use the light to defend itself from whatever monster lurking within the depths. That is its worst and last mistake. The torchlight reveals flickering shadows... and one of them leaps forward, ten horribly elongated fingers reaching out towards the demon. The demon flees, running through catacombs and deserted corridoors, hiding, running, holding the torch aloft, attempting to flee the horrible abomination. It does not matter. The demon pauses for breathe, panting in exhuastion... and then screams as one of the fingers finally touch him.
The Arnyek are a race of shadow monsters, looking like horribly distorted shadows of human beings. Fingers reaching down to their legs. No head, nor facial features, but a pair of smoldering eyes in the upper section of its chest. The Arnyek does not exist. Not truly. They are absences of light, and so in places where no light exists they can not harm anyone. It is this reason that they seek out places without light, and make their customary chattering sound, hoping to instigate the lighting of fires and lamps. If there is already a lamp, then..... well, the Arnyek can always be counted on to be opportunistic.
The Arnyek's touch is rotting and twisted. The moment it touches anybody, it induces a crippling effect, turning the body into a frozen, immobile, pain-wracked husk. The person is left immobile for five days, until he finally expires. This always creates a hungry ghost, searching for vengeance against something that has probably long since departed.