Operation DEMONHOOD Impoved
CFM, Forge-temple
Worship during the operation, KY needs every bit of power
KY:
1) Take some invisible, stealthy form
2) Magically attack the keep, focus on disabling their evil detecting capabilities\keeping awake mages busy
3) Aid Green Imps in laying illusions\hiding Undegrounders
4) Aid airforce (keep titaneghoul sedated, make dragons stronger, hide them)
5) Attack the Keep in Barlog form if things go very good
Undegrounders:
25 Green Imps
25 Black imps
5 Greater Spectres
Dal'Kahh the Avaricious
10 Armed cultists
Amberashs packs (in bags, as much as soldiers can carry weithout losing much stealth)
Orders: Try to sneak past scout\guards (don't kill, sneak, use green imps for invisibility\hypnosis... If noticed, try to kill guards before they raise an alarm) Start digging a tunnel near one of the wall, get inside, start killings (try to focus on priests and mages) . Dal'Kahh the Avaricious should know about Titaneghoul and retreat earlier.... other will not know about Titaneghoul, it's not like we can't afford losing them
Airforce
10 Black dragons, sedated Titaneghoul
Orders: Throw it (from not very high attitude, of cause) in the center of the keep. fifteen minutes after Undegrounders enter the keep. Provide fire support, after delivering the "present" ( Of cause try not get near Titaneghoul)
If undegrounders fail or alarm is raised, throw Titaneghoul as fast as possible
Dragons should retreat if things look to dangerous for them
Hidden reserves:
100 Spectres, 5 Greater Spectres
Stay not far away, attack if the operation go very good
Midnight. It occurs to you that it was one rotation of this pathetic planet around its sullen star ago that you first arose- ignorant of many things, unsure as to your purpose or desires. Of course, you didn't let that stop you. You found purpose; you found desires. And now, several of those desires is going to be fulfilled: Death, Chaos, and Terror shall be brought into the world, and all shall tremble and bow before you. You feel your followers across the lands chanting your name; even those in far off cities across the world throw festivities in your honour, where ignorant party-goers toast your name as they revel in base urges. The surge of power motivates you, brings you back from metaphysical speculation to the here-and-now, where the operation is about to begin.
Dal'Kahh and ten of his warriors kneel before you. Behind them, fifty imps, green and black, stand to attention. Five greater spectres bow respectfully. In sacks upon the warriors shoulders, five packs of amberärshs slumber. You confirm their mission, remove all fear from their minds, and command them march. The green imps swell up, and together blow a shimmering bubble which envelopes the group, obscuring them from sight. You make sure the magic has been cast correctly, and then they head off, no more than a faint shimmer and a few errant footprints.
Once they have been under way for some time, you begin the second phase of the operation. You project your voice, cold and hard and filled with evil power, into the mind of the Titaneghoul. You bid it rise from its slumber, exit its cage; stand upon the vast canvas sheet (reinforced with strands of steel and dark enchantments), and slumber once again. You then summon the dragons, who alight by the rings set into the side of the sheet, which they grasp with their claws and prepare to fly. You infuse each with demonic strength, lighten the Titaneghoul with dark magics, then bid them fly.
Slowly, wings straining, with irritated rumblings coming from the Titaneghoul within, the canvas is lifted from the ground, and begins its slow aerial journey towards Hugh's Shade.
Now you- with considerable effort- take mortal form; dressed in the uniform of the Barrtal army. To compress your power such costs great effort, and it costs greater effort still to prevent it from spilling from every pore of this human body. Once you are quite certain that you are to all but the most talented observers a regular human, you mount a horse captured from the enemy, and ride towards the Keep. On a small hill overlooking the keep, you dismount, and greet your fellow scout. "No troubles?", you ask, as you walk towards him.
"Not one thing, all night. If you ask me, its all one big joke- there ain't no demon", he responds.
"You know, I can't help but disagree", you say thoughtfully as you put one hand over his mouth and slit his throat with the other. You briefly allow yourself a flash of demonic power to consume the body, then take up the former scout's position, and send out your mind.
Soon enough you come across a ring of wards set up around the keep. The first layer does nothing but detect intrusions. Though powered by many minds, and some other source you cannot quite put your finger on, the ward is crude, and you easily subvert it, as that it will never trigger, but still drain power from the casters- A very small amount of power, but every little helps.
The second layer is a catch-all anti-magic-barrier. Fireballs, dark blasts, even magical entities would be stopped by it like a brick wall. You tear down the wall brick by brick, easily avoiding triggering the myriad of fail-safes that exist to prevent this from happening.
The third layer is a complicated mess of wards and enchantments. Detection, protection, nullification- all very clever, very well made, but as mighty as the wards are, you are mightier. You pull down each and every single ward and enchantment on the place, until it is as vulnerable to magical attack as a straw house is to the wind. You still notice a variety of powerful minds within who glow with justice and Goodness- but that is what the next part is for.
You look upon the field where the enemy wished to do battle. A trio of scouts with torches ride across it, watching carefully for treacherous night attacks. They ride past the shimmering bubble that is Dal'Kahh and his treacherous night attack group, but the scouts don't notice a thing, and ride on, into the distance. The bubble continues on its way across the fields, until it is just fifty meters from the walls, the torches thereon just failing to illuminate the footprint path. The bubble is still for a while, then slowly shrinks until all that is left is a small bubble covering a patch of completely untouched grass and the mound of dirt that is not on it.
Black'ns said we had to go deep, avoid the walls. Orright. They know what's up- or rather, heh, they know what's down. Dug fast, too. And the way they tore through the earth, it barely left any rubble. Magically destroyed, one explained. When we were finished here, he could show me a trick with a drawbridge and an elephant. I told him to shut up and dig faster.
Took a few minutes, during which I had an enlightening conversation with one of the Spectres, who had apparently known one of my ancestors quite intimately. Turns out being a serial killer runs in the family. He wasn't mad, though. He explained that he had poisoned my ancestor's soup beforehand, and that even as the blood ran from his body, he could see the green pallor creeping across his killers face.
We laughed about that, when one of the Black'ns said they'd reached the walls. Whaddayamean, reached the walls?, I said. The runt showed me. Sure enough, big stone wall in the middle of the passage. Didn't we go deep specifically to avoid these, I asked. Blackie says the walls go deeper than usual, that if they dig deeper than this they'll hit rock, and we'd be down here for hours.
Well, can we go through the wall, I asked.
Sure thing, it says.
Then go through the wall, says I. The digger team had been beneath for some fifteen minutes, when suddenly you notice a flare of mental activity from the keep. You cast your mind outwards, and find a wizard- or rather, a novice dressed as a wizard, who in his scans of activity noticed something attacking the walls. He is about to sound the alarm, so you- very carefully- turn him off. Not dead; just... off. His fellow wizards shouldn't notice he isn't with them anymore, and unless you come back to give him an order, he will probably just sit at his desk for the rest of the battle.
So one of them imps just pulls a pickaxe from nowhere, whilst the rest take out a bunch of other equipment I could really have had some fun with back in the day, but I assume served some more mundane purpose here. And in a few minutes, there was a decently sized hole in the wall. Just... deconstructed. Won't that make the rest of the wall unstable, I ask. The imps just laugh. I smack one of 'em with Barrsdoom, and that shut 'em up.
They got back to digging, I got back to explaining to the spectre what I did to the girl over in Boat'. He was much amused, and confessed to having done similar things in his lifetime. Although he had had servants who cleaned up afterwards, and he never got in trouble with the guards over it, primarily because he was the one who told them what to do.
Then the Black'ns motion me over, so I creep up the tunnel to see what they want. They point at the roof of the tunnel and made 'listen' gestures. I obliged. Now, I know for a fact that those hairy bastards won't so much as look twice at the whores in Barrspring, so I don't know why they think this is funny. 'till I noticed their other, more frantic gestures.
I had one of the boys hand me a spear. Good, sturdy thing. Steel head, reinforced haft. The blackn's did a little extra digging to give me some room, I listen one more time to get the right place, and then I stab that spear up through the earth with a vengeance. We were rewarded by twin cries- man and a woman- and wouldn't you know it, it sounded completely like they'd just finished. Blood dripped down the shaft of the spear. I tell the imps to get back to digging- up, and have the mopey green bastards step forwards to do the filthy bubble thing again."Sweet Orseth, those two are noisy."
"Ach, lett em be. T'ain't often you can go to warr with yer sweetheart, and it does me heart good to know that someone in this god-forsaken place is enjoying themselves"
"Well yes, but come on. It sounded like they were getting stabbed in there. I nearly thought we were under attaaaaaghh"
"What's that, laddie? Oh, gods! Who's-aaargh"
"Right", Dal'Kahh speaks, "You four imps, chuck the Amberärshs in these tents, and when the time is right, knock the lantern over. Then stick in the tunnel and make sure no one finds it. Rest of you, with me. The priesty-wandy-wavey people'll be inside. Greenies, we still bubbled?"
A green imp croaked an affirmative.
"Right then. The keep it is."
A spectre glided through the door, somewhat startling the soldier on watch behind it.
"Ah! Jolly good. Open this door, boy."
"A g-g-g-g"
"What? Speak up, laddie. Actually, don't. Just open the door, chop chop."
"A g-ghost!"
"Door's still shut, chap. I'd hate to have to open it myself."
"You're one of the demon's minions! I should raise the alarm!"
"Oh, botheration. Whatever happened to common courtesy? Listen, boy, in my day, a servant didn't listen to his betters, we cut his head off, but kept him alive using necromancy, so that we could boil his body in a vat of oil and still hear the screams."
The guard ran off.
"These days, I suppose we must make do with"-the spectre gave a grunt of effort-"this."
An otherwise entirely secure piece of masonry detached from the wall, crushing the guard's skull.
The spectre then returned to the door, and with considerable effort, lifted the heavy bar from the door and pulled it open.
"After you, gentlemen", he spoke with a wave.
A few hapless guards met swift demise at the hands of the warriors; a crossbow fired at point blank range from within a shimmering bubble is hard to avoid. The Spectres pointed the way to where the priests were sleeping. Within the Keep's chapel, a hundred bedrolls lay, and ninety priests slumbered. The other ten knelt before the altar, praying, keeping the candles lit in the shrines, and adding their voice to the mental chorus which aught keep demons at bay. The spectres and the imps were loath to enter, so Dal'Kahh and his soldiers entered alone. They walked as silently as they could; but before they had set a dozen steps, one of the priests praying before the altar spoke.
"Why do you disturb our midnight vigil, soldiers?"
"Father, my men and I wish to pray here, and show our respects to our lord."
The kneeling figure nodded, content, as eleven men with axes drawn bore down upon him.
The ten died; but not before letting out screams of various intensities. The rest of the room woke quickly, leapt out of bed, grasped their holy staves with blurry eyes, and started chanting scripture in a terrible approximation of harmony.
It stung, what those priest-folk said. I could feel my blood- my actual blood- writhing in complaint. But when I took Barrsdoom and struck down in a single blow the two nearest priests, and the blade sung out in praise of Krlnkir, the pain stopped, for the song of the axe drowned out the song of the priests. My companions took their blades to the foe, still to bewildered to defend themselves, and slew many. Then they started fighting back, whacking at us with their sticks- some even tried to draw their swords, which they didn't even know how to use. Still, there were plenty of them and not so many of us. I reckon seven to one, considering how many we took out 'fore they got their act together. A decent fight.
I took Barrsdoom to them, and they fell like strands of grass before my sweeping scythe. I danced from man to man, revelling in the blood. Yet on the other side of the room, my comrades were falling themselves- brought low by a men poking them with sticks. I leapt across the room, to where the priests were eagerly surrounding my embattled colleagues, and hacked into their unprotected backs. Though I felt staves slamming against my armour, I kept hacking, until I stood before the men I once called warriors, so that I could spit in their faces.
Four had fallen, two were bleeding heavily. Cowards, I called them, and struck my armoured fist against Barrsdoom. The axe shrieked, making everyone pause- priests included. I pointed towards the door. They nodded, ran, leaving the prone behind, whilst the priests gave them room under threat of the axe.
NOW, I shouted, IS JUST YOU AND ME. My voice echoed through the room, joining the voices of the dead and dying in cursing the blood-soaked stones.
The priests stared at me, and as one, lowered their staves like spears, and advanced towards me.
I laughed as some fell to the warriors at the door, who had swapped axes for crossbows. I laughed harder when the imps and spectres, who had no call to fear this blood-soaked chapel, came swarming in, and took the priests by surprise, tearing into them, until they realised that they must escape or perish. Few escaped, for by the doors the greenies turned on them, and they shambled back in, where they waited patiently until I chopped their heads off. It became obvious that something was happening inside the keep. Sounds of battle deep within were heard, guards rushed to make sure the king was okay- but the heavily guarded king was fine. The wizards! The wizards were fine. The knights! Also fine. Then... who?
By the time the guards arrived at the chapel, Dal'Kahh was long gone. The shrines had been burnt. The statues destroyed. The corpses piled up neatly.
And then a fire started in the tents outside. Soldiers rushed to stamp out the flaming wreckage of the tent, only to have the flaming wreckage bite back; Amberärshs rise from the remains; leap at the soldiers, and send them running. Eagerly they give chase, leaping around, over, and through tents and materiel which go up in flames as they pass. Soon much of the camp is burning, panicked soldiers trying to get out of their burning tents, but then ducking back in to grab their equipment. In the chaos, few noticed a barely-visible bubble make its way through the smoke, to stand by a curiously untouched piece of ground obscured by a similar bubble. And here, with a pop, the bubble disappeared, and Dal'Kahh hammered his axe until he had everyone's complete attention.
"IGNORANT FOOLS", he shouted, "YOUR DOOM IS AT HAND FOR DEFYING THE WILL OF THE DEMON LORD KRLNKIR YRLVNT! KNOW THAT HE SHALL STRIKE DOWN THE KEEP AND ALL WITHIN IT; IF YOU VALUE YOUR LIFE, FLEE NOW!"
"Now", he spoke, turning to the surviving cultists, the imps, and the spectres. "Four greenies come with me; the rest of you, get into the keep and cause as much chaos as you can."
"Where are you headed, Dal'Kahh?"
"Back. I hate to miss the fireworks, but being eaten often offends."
And with that, he ducked into the tunnel, which collapsed behind him.
And here come the dragons, bearing their grumbling load between them. All below look to the ground; look over the walls for the enemy force come to take advantage of the chaos; none appears. But considering the rumours of invisible enemies, this is no consolation; and whilst the wizards efforts to detect invisible units thus-far revealed only a single fleeing figure, they are sure more must be on their way from somewhere, and they focus all their efforts into finding these illusive legions. Meanwhile, the fires and the amberärshs lurking therein cause enough problems for the soldiers below; some die in a tangled mess of burning canvas, others do not see in the smoke an amberärsh leaping for their throat, some see the amberärsh but left their shield in their tent, and fall to a blast of fire.
One part of the courtyard is clear; no fires burn, and from the keep and from the tents march soldiers, who line up in tight formation, as knights march around reminding them not to be afraid; for fear is the enemies greatest weapon- deny him that, and the battle is ours. A thousand men cluster in the courtyard, waiting to hear from whence the enemy will strike.
And upon them falls the Titaneghoul, with an earth-shaking crash. Dozens are squashed beneath the canvas satchel; others knocked over by the force of the impact. But the knights remind them to be brave, as they approach the mass of canvas- curious as to what is contained within.
The Titaneghoul is contained within. And it is hurt, and annoyed, and its brains have been repressed by demonic orders into immobile silence for long enough. It shrieks in agony. Every soldier within hearing distance- which is to say, every soldier within the walls of the keep- freezes. Not for long, but long enough for the Titaneghoul to right itself, and sweep its arms through the annoying people surrounding it, stuffing handfuls of them into its wretched maw, which with the terrible sound of tortured metal grinds the still-living-soldiers to pieces.
When the effects of its initial shriek wears off, men turn and run. But the knights- oh, those brave, brave knights- rally them call them to attack the beast, leading by example. They hack into the unprotected flesh of its legs, which does not hamper the beast at all, but does the knights the great honour of being covered in its noxious blood, which hisses upon contact with their armour, and blinds those so unlucky as to get it in their eyes. All but undaunted, the knights continue, the common footsoldier behind him, hacking away at the legs, prising away the chitinous armour- then recoiling in horror at the faces beneath- stabbing, hacking, slashing, until eventually the legs give way. This small victory comes at a grave cost, however. Hundreds are slain as the beast swipes at them with its arms, either squashing them flat, or pulling them up and into its maw. And then from what looked like boils upon the beasts underside burst forth monstrosities; still vaguely wearing their knightly armour, though dented with the marks of giant teeth, and covered in a hideous grey slime. These monsters leap at their comrades, clawing vaguely at their faces with half-digested hands, leaving splatters of slime upon their faces, which upon contact with skin begins to give off a rancid smoke.
Having rendered the creature legless, the soldiers are willing to ignore their casualties and press on; hacking at the rotund torso of the beast, getting right in there and pulling at the plates of bone-steel until they fall off with a horrible squelching noise, splattering all around with noxious pus, and sometimes revealing a horribly distorted face which screams at the soldiers and waves at them with its (relatively) tiny arms, until stabbed in the eyes, whereupon it falls limp. Still the beast strikes, arms flailing at the people stinging its hide- though perhaps it weakens?
Some might think so, but when the beast in a particularly violent swipe knocks all those hacking at its sides back, allowing them to see how many have already fallen, whilst also seeing the beast pick up fallen pieces of armour and slap them back onto its hide, where fleshy tendrils soon secure them in place- many decide that a second charge may not be best for their health, and flee. A few knights shout about fear and bravery, but when they stand alone -with the beast at any moment to be finished re-plating itself in armour, after which it will surely be hungry-, they too tactically withdraw to a secure position, from whence a more suitable strategy may be devised.
Without its legs, the beast is constrained to its current location- though it seems not to mind, as it scrapes up... everything off the ground, and throws it all into its all-consuming gullet. Archers on the walls prepare to attack it, now that their friendlies have fled- only to be attacked by dragons, who swoop down across the walls, breathing fire across a dozen archers before gliding upwards once more. With ten dragons thus occupied, some seventy archers die in flames, whilst the rest are too distracted to loose even a single arrow towards the beast below- though some manage to fire a few arrows upwards- though not one actually hits the fast-moving dragons.
And slowly, the beast below is recovering. Its legs, hacked to pieces and separated from its body, sprout arms and legs of their own, as the faces on them- formerly 'dead'- recover, and walk themselves back into position. The Titaneghoul's flesh reaches out for them, steel/bone-bones snapping back into place, muscles regrowing in the blink of an eye, damaged bones repaired with the wealth of metal digested by the beast. And so the horrified watchers see how all damage is undone; and the beast recovers, then shrieks again, sending splatters of its meals up into the air like a blood fountain, and sending shivers down the spines of all who hear it- and for having heard it a second time, know they have no interest in hearing it again. The fleeing soldiers, recently reorganized, disorganize once more and flee for the keep. As the beast stomps over towards the walls, its long spindly arms reaching out for those upon it, the archers flee as well. Within the keep, the last surviving spectre shivers, and flees past the wizards, who are themselves too shell-shocked to cast even a single spell to stop it.
The Titaneghoul grabs off of the walls those who fled too slowly, then slowly lumbers around the courtyard, picking up corpses and broken tents as it goes, stuffing everything into the bottomless pit that is its stomach. Within the keep, men gibber madly, brave knights hide in alcoves, whilst the king himself, despite a lifetime of practice of not looking scared in public, sobs in fear upon Hugh's old throne.
Eventually, the Titaneghoul has picked the courtyard clean, and grows bored. The dragons are roosting upon the top of the keep. The Titaneghoul decides that it shall eat the dragons.
It sets its two burly arms upon a ridge in the construction, digging into the stone with steel-plated 'fingers'. With great difficulty- and in a manner which causes the entire keep to shake- it pulls its front legs of the ground, and manages to slam them into the masonry. Then with its longer arms, it grasps a ridge further up, and summoning its every reserve of strength, pulls its back legs off of the ground-
Whereupon the masonry it was grasping collapsed, and the Titaneghoul falls backwards and slams into the ground, on its side, grumbling angrily as it rolls about.
It occurs at this point that the Titaneghoul is too stupid to try to break into the keep without some form of encouragement. You abandon your human form, which explodes in a cloud of gore as you arise in your titanic, whips-of-fire wielding form, with a roar of demonic triumph which echoes through the lands.
You stomp over to the walls surrounding the keep and command the Titaneghoul right itself. You then segment off a portion of yourself and fire the beam of darkness at the keep's main gates. You feel a faint buzzing as dozens of terrified mages try to hold you back, but their efforts are in vain. The blast of darkness destroys the gates, and the masonry surrounding it, whereupon you command the Titaneghoul enter, and kill all within.
It complies almost reluctantly, though less so when it detects prey within. Terrified screams as the beast rampages through the grand hall; sound of crumbling masonry as its fists pulverize the interior walls. Terrible crunching as the Titaneghoul feasts on broken masonry, bonesteel teeth grinding ancient stone into dust.
Some flee the keep now that the monster is within; these are met by dragons, Spectres, and yourself. More sounds of collapsing masonry signal the Titaneghoul's failure to climb the stairs to the second story, although its long arms still swipe at those above, and its fists cause chunks of ceiling to fall away, bringing with it terrified morsels. Soon the ground floor is cleaned out, and all but the most solid walls naught but piles of dust and rubble. The second floor is filled with holes, and terrified people flee to the third floor- which is already full. The stairs to the fourth floor have been blocked off by the royal guard, for it is here that the king and his guard, together with the surviving wizards, wanderers, and knights, plan their escape from this deathtrap. But they can think of no way out; nor do they have the courage to do anything but sit up here and listen to the sound of their own men banging on the doors bellow, begging to be allowed up.
You stand before this keep, brought low by a band of invisible assassins and a single titanic monster. Perhaps if they had been luckier, they might have at least caught your fleeing general. Perhaps if they had been luckier, their wizards would have put less effort into searching for hidden enemies that were not there, but saved their energies for when an enemy presented itself. Perhaps if they had been luckier, they would have retreated from the Titaneghoul as soon as it landed, and let archers and mages take care of it.
But they were not lucky. And now, thanks to a string of foolish, unlucky decisions, what might have been an excellent way to take out a few hundred enemy soldiers and demoralize the rest has turned into the king and his entire (remaining) army trapped in his own keep and at your mercy. Well, time to
-Kill Them All! Pull back the Titaneghoul, set fire to the keep, and watch it collapse, killing all within.
-Don't Kill Them All! Convert, enslave, mutate, or just set the survivors free. (≈1500 people)
Yeah, okay, so. Tactical decisions are based half on 'what makes sense' and half on dice. As in, they will always try to do what- to them- makes sense, but the dice determine whether this course of action is actually the best one. Eg: Charging the Titaneghoul? Makes sense, to someone who doesn't know it. But running away and firing arrows also makes sense. And if the dice say they charge the Titaneghoul, then later all retreat into the keep, well, this happens.
Congratulations.
Lucky bastards.
Name: Krlnkir Yrlvnt
Physical might: 140 (+20: Sacrifice-rush)(-5: Commanding the Titaneghoul)(-5: Airlifting the Titaneghoul)(-5: Hiding Self)(-5:Commanding the Titaneghoul again)(-10: LAZOR)
Mental might: 150 (+20: Worship-rush)(-5: Commanding the Titaneghoul)(-5: Airlifting the Titaneghoul)(-5: Hiding Self)(-5:Commanding the Titaneghoul again)(-10: LAZOR)
Other: Corrupter.
Demonic Realm: Akataki, Barrspring, and Grantown. 3400 Peons. Provides 100 Resources per week. +7 Physical Might/week +7 Mental Might/week
Resources: 98 (-10/week: Sent to CFM)
Defences: Considerable.
Notable features: The Forge-Temple at Barrspring provides weaponry of darkbarr steel- high quality corrupted metal.
The forests and rivers of your land have been hunted and fished excessively. Packs of wolves roam, grown large and vicious from easy eating. Your peons must work harder to find meals- although for now, the stocks of food provide.
Demonic Armies: 240 Armed Cultists, 25 Sergeants, 20 Living-Polybolos-Wielders, 250 Armed Zombies, 400 Skeletal Warriors, 25 Skeletal Knights, 15 Amberärsh Packs, 25 Giant Rat Packs, 100 Spectres, 5 Greater Spectres, 20 Haunted Armours, 100 Beastmen, 30 Armoured Sintaurs, 10 Living-Polybolos-Wielding-Sintaurs, 100 Ghouls, 4 Armoured Baneghouls, 10 Black Dragons, 6 Water Elementals, 50 Red Imps, 25 Yellow Imps, 5 Green Imps, 25 Blue Imps, 5 Catapults)
Cults:
The Mad Flames: Low organisation. 35 Cultists in the Church of the Flames of Madness. Led by Balthanor the Necromancer
Power Level: 15
Resources: 120 (+3/week: Workshops)(+9/week: Received from Barrspring)
Cultists: 12 Cultists, 20 Acolytes, 3 Invocators
Servants: 10 Amberärsh Packs
Other: Your Acolytes manage to develop a series of simple spells that can be used to increase the effectiveness of a Cult's activities; brainwashing spells which allow them to temporarily enslave mortals as well as you can; pleasurable spells which give a taste of the rewards of serving you; and rituals which make pyres burn blue and brighter, and give off a faint sense of the Tall Man's presence. Having an Acolyte or Invocator to oversee a cults activities will increase their effectiveness.
Followers of the Tall Man. Very high organisation. 72 cultists in six locations; Dragonsnest, Greywinde, Port Hope, Goldhall, Easthall and Narsis.
Power Level: 14
Resources: 0
Cultists: 66 Cultists, 6 Acolytes
Locations: Dragonsnest, Greywinde, Port Hope, Goldhall, Easthall and Narsis: 11 Cultists, 1 Acolyte each.
Other: Whispered words, reports misplaced, edited, or forged outright- with little things, your cultists slowly build up an image of King Malcolm that sets his recent call for help against a demonic threat in a new light: that it may have been some sort of trap; that whilst the anarchist uprising was real, the demonic influence was not- but Malcolm would wait until Confederate forces came to crush the rebellion, then test his dark powers of necromancy on them- a perfect plan; getting rid of the anarchists, weakening his opponents armies, testing his dark powers, whilst his own forces survive unscathed, and no one would suspect a thing, as he had warned of demonic influence. This rumour is carefully nourished and spread throughout the courts, and leaves many wondering what Malcolm is up to...
Missionaries of the Alternate Faith. High organisation. 27 members in five locations.
Power Level: 9
Locations: Noragan (9 cultists), Sal'Sarrin (9 Cultists), Barrsmouth (3 Cultists), Cleomenople (3 Cultists), [Major City] (3 Cultists),
Other: The Alternate Faith organizes a few parties in Noragan, which are- anonymously- attended by some of the most influential people in the city. They bring Barrtal into the conversation. Unfortunately, it would appear that whilst publically many political figures spit at Barrtal, in private, when they can speak freely, they don't really care about the place- a war would just be more ugliness. Your cultists drop a few lines into the conversation trying to steer things the other way, to some sucess; mentioning that Barrtal itself has been mobilizing recently, and that apparently all is not well in the realm. Many nod thoughtfully- it would be an ideal time to invade, and they have always said they should...
Champions:
Alyshtr Yrlvnt: Half-demon. 5.5 months old.
Physical Might: 2 (+1: Imp bodyguard Squad)
Mental Might: 3 (+1: Imp bodyguard Squad)
Equipment: Red Imp pet (fire magic and demonic tales), pet slave, Black Imp pet (metal working and demonic ales), Green Imp pet (illusion magic and demonic wails), Yellow Imp pet (shapeshifting and demonic grails)
Knowledge: Demontongue, mind-corruption, basic fire magic, granting demonic power to mortals.
Personality: Chaotic. Cruel, with a twisted sense of humour. Cares about her mother.
Other: Learnt well from your lessons, and promised that in future she would fix her own things.
Consort: Mother of Alyshtr.
Physical Might: 3
Mental Might: 2
Knowledge: Faint ken of Demontongue, sort-of-half-forgotten basics of Necromancy.
Mutations: Refined Cannibal. Increased Strength. Slight Resistance to disease/poison. Excessive moonlight causes fits of rage and insanity; during this state she is capable of performing advanced necromancy, which she does- killing and consuming all around her, shrieking in Demontongue at the top of her voice.
Other: You brute-force her back to health, with Alyshtr by your side. The influx of demonic energy empowers her mind and body, alowing her to shake off the insanity- though the scars will always remain. More importantly, the evil coursing through her veins causes her to mutate randomly. Her strength increases, and she acquires a resistance to disease and poison- not as much as her daughter or a ghoul has, though. She also receives a slight lunar-activated mutation. One which only manifests after she first walks the streets at night again; when the moonlight struck her brow, she began to glow with a dark red light, and leapt at her companion- fortunately only a minor cultist-, and ripped his throat out. Afterwards she floated through the village, throwing blasts of dark magic all around her and scrieching in Demontongue, sending many citizens mad. In the morning, she was found lying in bed, with no memory of the night before.
Dal'Kahh the Avaricious: Warrior with demonic strength, armed with Darkbarr armour and Barrsdoom.
Physical Might: 7 (+3 Axe) (-3: Injuries)
Mental Might: 4 (+1 Axe)
Equipment: Barrsdoom (Axe; +3 to physical might, +1 to mental might. Inspires friendly troops, causes fear in enemy troops)
Knowledge: Tactics, Leadership.
Other: Suffered severe blows at battle. Heavily bruised; may have dislocated something or broken something else. No worries. He's had worse.
Nameless: Former Akataki Guard. Being corrupted. He will fight for you... but only in defence of your consort.
Physical Might: 2
Mental Might: 1
Other: Decided he would guard your consort, to make sure she had recovered completely, and to keep her out of the moonlight. Seems to enjoy the 'corrupt' life; attends ritual of worshipping you- not to worship, you understand, but for the afterparty.
Balthanor the Necromancer: Travelled to Akataki to join your cause. Has considerable knowledge of magic and necromancy.
Physical Might: 4 (+2: Living Polybolos)
Mental Might: 13 (+5: Dark Crystal)
Equipment: Dark Crystal which emanates evil energy (+5 Mental might. Requires basic knowledge of necromancy to use). Living Polybolos (+2 Physical Might, Ranged)
Knowledge: Magic, Necromancy.
The Titaneghoul: A massive monster made of steel and flesh.
Physical Might: 40 (-10: Major Injuries)
Mental Might: 5
Other: Indescribably tormented minds: Requires considerable effort to control; almost entirely immune to hypnosis and illusions. Omnivore: Will eat anything. Friend, foe, or scenery. Unstable Biology: Physical might will rise and fall at random. Terror-inducing-shriek: May randomly shriek, causing terror in all around it. Only entities which are entirely incapable of feeling fear (greater demons, greater angels, elementals, entirely mindless undead) are immune.
Fortresses:
The Church of the Flames of Madness. Formerly Dolnar Asylum, HQ of Barrtal monster hunters.
Mighty Walls (50). Moat (5, slows attackers). Dark Wards (30). Evil Stones (cause illusions and madness to attackers, also act as a second set of Weak Wards(10)). Rampant Spectres (cause madness to attackers. May randomly attack enemies)
Sacrificial Chamber: An excellent location for worship and sacrifice.
Workshops: A large forge and a series of workshops allow cultists to refine resources much more efficiently. With the resources sent from Barrspring, the Cultists can use the workshops far more effectively than before.
Library: A library and series of studies allow cultists to learn the arts of magic. Contains a host of information on both Magic and Necromancy, enabling Acolytes to be upgraded to Experienced Cultists, and for a wide variety of spells and rituals to be learnt.
Sending Circles: A pair of raised daises, linked to a similar pair in Barrspring, which can send and receive objects given a source of power. Balthanor's Dark Crystal powers the circles.
Amberärsh Furnace: A horrific device which industrializes the summoning of Amberärshs. Animals go in, Amberärshs come out.
Author
Topic: Demonhood. -Slumbering for an indeterminate number of Strange Aeons- (Read 237233 times)