Malheorte is a thriving domain. Its lush forests provide timber, rare herbs and mushrooms, the pelts and meat of animals great and small. Its rivers and lakes provide fish and shellfish, and the odd handful of pearls. Its mountains are rich in gems and ore. The soil is so fertile that the farming folk of the two cities and three towns can easily reap two harvests every year, and the forests easily regenerate what the lumberjacks take.
If there is anything negative to say about Malheorte, it might be that the weather is always at least a little colder than one would expect, the sky always at least a little overcast.
The people of Malheorte tend to be both hearty and beautiful. Given the abundant resources, even the meanest beggar can eat well (not that there are many beggars; there's plenty of work to go around), so long as they are willing to either brave the forests or steal from the acres. When women give birth, it is rare for them not to have fraternal twins or triplets. Discrimination based on race, species or gender is not part of the locals' mental landscape; humans may be the dominant intelligent lifeform, but they are open and welcoming to anyone willing to follow the laws and keep the peace.
Malheorte has no central government; the two cities and the three towns each answer to their own lord or lady mayor, who arrange matters concerning the whole nation in an annual meeting. Lords and Ladies Mayor are appointed and dismissed by popular vote during a bi-annual election, and settle matters among each other by majority vote.
The Lords and Ladies Mayor also jointly oversee the nation's militia; a surprisingly well-armed and harshly-trained body of men and women who undergo rather extreme surgery and whose names are stricken from their family records as part of their training. The militia answers to no one save the Lords and Ladies Mayor and their own commanders, and they are both greatly respected and feared.
Malheorte is welcoming to all faiths that respect local law (loose as it is) and maintain the peace. There is no native religion, but there is a general belief in reincarnation, a belief that spirits exist in every living thing (and thus, that every living thing is part of the cycle of reincarnation and must be treated - or indeed, used - with appropriate respect) and a monastic tradition which is pursued in monasteries and nunneries. In these secluded communities, those drawn to the Path of Purificiation work, study, fast and meditate, honing their minds, bodies and souls to the point that they transcend the purely temporal and achieve the infinite.
Shamans (PF 1E, Advanced Class Guide) or Voodan (D&D 3.5, Dark Tales and Disturbing Legends) are the default spiritual classes of Malheorte, but there is a smattering of Clerics of foreign faiths, and a bare handful of Druids are in hiding in the depths of the wild woods.
All in all, Malheorte seems a pleasant enough place to live. Resources are abundant, the government is not openly oppressive, the people are welcoming and solidarity is considered to be an important virtue by both the aristocracy (such as it is) and the commoners.
So why is it that a pall of fear seems to draw over the domain as soon as the sun sets? And why are so many of the small monasteries and nunneries now abandoned, with those still inhabited either adopting a siege mentality or hotly debating the virtues of relocating to the cities? Why do the Druids hide and cower in their groves, and where have the Rangers who once patrolled the forests gone?
Who's the Darklord? [4]
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Rock of the Fraternity
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Rock of the Fraternity
- Evil Genius
- Posts: 6077
- Joined: Wed Nov 21, 2007 1:16 pm
Re: Who's the Darklord? [4]
The Ripper is ancient. She has been ancient for as long as she can remember. She is so ancient that she has forgotten her early origins, so ancient that she has forgotten her Truename.
The fiend decided that the best way to end her existence was to scatter wide her essence to the point that she would no longer be the Ripper. This way, her legacy would live on without her needing to live on, and great evil would continue to be done thanks to her. But she could not do this in the Abyss; she was too old, too strong. If she scattered herself in the Abyss, her essence would simply corrupt and devour any fiendish being it touched, and their vitality would be added to her own as she reincorporated.
No, she needed hosts untouched by fiendish essence, who dwelled in a land that would reject her instead of empowering her. Pure hosts, living in an unsullied land. Clean hosts. Innocents.
As she sought a place to perish, the Ripper chanced upon Prime Material Malheorte, and the Nunnery of the Shriven Soul. The nunnery itself was a little too pure for her to invade, but she could sense that one soul within was far from shriven. That soul lusted for power, for control, for darkness... and it was easy enough for her to contact that soul and make her offer.
With the aid of that one, foolish mortal, the Ripper established herself in one of Malheorte's finest mansions. Having desecrated a lair in the cellars as her shrine to Evil, the Ripper first lured and abducted fresh victims to serve as host for her essence, then later had the hosts go out to bring more victims for her to use.
Only women were suitable to be hosts, but as they mutated into succubus-like creatures themselves, they had needs of their own. And the Ripper still enjoyed a bit of entertainment while she waited for the end.
And such entertainments...! Under the Ripper's guidance, her creatures would steal young brides and leave clues to lure frenzied grooms into her clutches - and the clutches of those same brides, grown fiendish and ravenous due to the transformation. She claimed nuns from the nunneries as her get, monks as feasts. When the protections of the monastics' sanctuaries failed, she had them swarmed and desecrated.
And as her host of monstrous 'offspring' grew, the Ripper felt herself growing weaker, closer to death. It was glorious...!
But it needed a last, grand finish. A final flourish of Evil and depravity to sign her death warrant.
And so she had her creatures steal the last prize; a kind-hearted, golden-haired girl, half of a pair of fraternal twins.
Just as expected, her brother came after her, guided by taunting clues. He plunged into the trap-filled depths of the Ripper's mansion. He struggled; he fought; he strained his mind and body both.
Exhausted, he stumbled into the darkest depths of the cellars, where the dying demoness awaited him. But she was not alone; the boy's sister stood at her side, the final host. Under the influence of uncontrollable urges, before a jeering audience of fiendish hosts, the sister committed horrors against her brother as the Ripper dictated. Horrors which ended with her brother's death, as she drained his life-force into herself.
Sweet oblivion tugged at the Ripper and she surrendered, ready to die with a smile as she beheld the death of innocence and the flowering of a garden of corruption she had planted.
Yes, she was at the very threshold when her eyes met those of the girl, her last host. Eyes filled with hatred and self-loathing as the corrupted girl cradled her brother's corpse in her arms.
"Monster I am, beyond all doubt, but a far greater monster are you," the last host proclaimed. "As I will never know peace again, so may you never know peace."
Sweet, sweet oblivion ... turned cold. The darkness that had eaten at the corners of the Ripper's vision turned to fog.
Current sketch:
The Ripper is still tired. She is still ready to die.
The mansion in which she once lurked is inexplicably gone, and she now lairs in the dungeons of an ancient castle in the domain's mountains, forgotten by all but the most learned sages.
She still wants to scatter her essence into hosts and disperse, but she is unable. For some reason, whenever she imbeds her essence into a host, that host still undergoes the transformation, but her essence gradually regenerates! Everything the Ripper knows of fiendish lore says that should not be possible, and yet it is still happening. Maybe if she could imbed a large number of hosts in one sitting, she could finally escape into Death's embrace, but this is logistically difficult.
There are plenty of women in Malheorte to implant, but they live quite a distance from the castle. The nation's militia, whose surgical alterations and training are designed specifically to combat the Ripper's creatures, are ever alert for her agents and will give chase if they detect an abduction. Even if the militia fails to catch up the Ripper's raiding parties, there are frequent attacks by other creatures of darkness.
If the Ripper could just bestir herself to attack the cities, she could probably implant a sufficient number of hosts to end her existence, but she feels deathly tired even when she is at the height of her power. She can move freely inside the castle, but she grows more lethargic the further she travels from its walls, until a point comes where she becomes virtually immobile and needs to be carried back.
All of this has done nothing to improve her character or reduce her spitefulness; when victims do arrive at the castle, the Ripper spends days tormenting them by sending them through the mad labyrinth of passages and traps she has constructed inside the castle. Her creatures prowl the passageways, offering riddles, tests and punishments for those who fail. Their suffering brings her the only relief she feels from the ennui of her existence and the frustration of her inability to end that existence.
It is far better for an intruder to die somewhere in the labyrinth to the whips, claws and hungers of a fiendish or half-fiend host, than to be delivered to the shrine where the Ripper lounges on a bed upholstered with human skin, illuminated by glass spheres that contain bound souls.
The Ripper is ready to die. But she will make Malheorte suffer as much as she can until she does.
The Ripper has spent an eternity in acts of temptation, debauch, treachery and murder. If there is a sin she has not encouraged or indulged in, she does not remember it. She has done and seen so much that she is ... tired. She is ... done. She is ready to die.The Ripper
CE Succubus Cleric 5 / Sorcerer 5 / Mystic Theurge 10 / Noble 20
The fiend decided that the best way to end her existence was to scatter wide her essence to the point that she would no longer be the Ripper. This way, her legacy would live on without her needing to live on, and great evil would continue to be done thanks to her. But she could not do this in the Abyss; she was too old, too strong. If she scattered herself in the Abyss, her essence would simply corrupt and devour any fiendish being it touched, and their vitality would be added to her own as she reincorporated.
No, she needed hosts untouched by fiendish essence, who dwelled in a land that would reject her instead of empowering her. Pure hosts, living in an unsullied land. Clean hosts. Innocents.
As she sought a place to perish, the Ripper chanced upon Prime Material Malheorte, and the Nunnery of the Shriven Soul. The nunnery itself was a little too pure for her to invade, but she could sense that one soul within was far from shriven. That soul lusted for power, for control, for darkness... and it was easy enough for her to contact that soul and make her offer.
With the aid of that one, foolish mortal, the Ripper established herself in one of Malheorte's finest mansions. Having desecrated a lair in the cellars as her shrine to Evil, the Ripper first lured and abducted fresh victims to serve as host for her essence, then later had the hosts go out to bring more victims for her to use.
Only women were suitable to be hosts, but as they mutated into succubus-like creatures themselves, they had needs of their own. And the Ripper still enjoyed a bit of entertainment while she waited for the end.
And such entertainments...! Under the Ripper's guidance, her creatures would steal young brides and leave clues to lure frenzied grooms into her clutches - and the clutches of those same brides, grown fiendish and ravenous due to the transformation. She claimed nuns from the nunneries as her get, monks as feasts. When the protections of the monastics' sanctuaries failed, she had them swarmed and desecrated.
And as her host of monstrous 'offspring' grew, the Ripper felt herself growing weaker, closer to death. It was glorious...!
But it needed a last, grand finish. A final flourish of Evil and depravity to sign her death warrant.
And so she had her creatures steal the last prize; a kind-hearted, golden-haired girl, half of a pair of fraternal twins.
Just as expected, her brother came after her, guided by taunting clues. He plunged into the trap-filled depths of the Ripper's mansion. He struggled; he fought; he strained his mind and body both.
Exhausted, he stumbled into the darkest depths of the cellars, where the dying demoness awaited him. But she was not alone; the boy's sister stood at her side, the final host. Under the influence of uncontrollable urges, before a jeering audience of fiendish hosts, the sister committed horrors against her brother as the Ripper dictated. Horrors which ended with her brother's death, as she drained his life-force into herself.
Sweet oblivion tugged at the Ripper and she surrendered, ready to die with a smile as she beheld the death of innocence and the flowering of a garden of corruption she had planted.
Yes, she was at the very threshold when her eyes met those of the girl, her last host. Eyes filled with hatred and self-loathing as the corrupted girl cradled her brother's corpse in her arms.
"Monster I am, beyond all doubt, but a far greater monster are you," the last host proclaimed. "As I will never know peace again, so may you never know peace."
Sweet, sweet oblivion ... turned cold. The darkness that had eaten at the corners of the Ripper's vision turned to fog.
Current sketch:
The Ripper is still tired. She is still ready to die.
The mansion in which she once lurked is inexplicably gone, and she now lairs in the dungeons of an ancient castle in the domain's mountains, forgotten by all but the most learned sages.
She still wants to scatter her essence into hosts and disperse, but she is unable. For some reason, whenever she imbeds her essence into a host, that host still undergoes the transformation, but her essence gradually regenerates! Everything the Ripper knows of fiendish lore says that should not be possible, and yet it is still happening. Maybe if she could imbed a large number of hosts in one sitting, she could finally escape into Death's embrace, but this is logistically difficult.
There are plenty of women in Malheorte to implant, but they live quite a distance from the castle. The nation's militia, whose surgical alterations and training are designed specifically to combat the Ripper's creatures, are ever alert for her agents and will give chase if they detect an abduction. Even if the militia fails to catch up the Ripper's raiding parties, there are frequent attacks by other creatures of darkness.
If the Ripper could just bestir herself to attack the cities, she could probably implant a sufficient number of hosts to end her existence, but she feels deathly tired even when she is at the height of her power. She can move freely inside the castle, but she grows more lethargic the further she travels from its walls, until a point comes where she becomes virtually immobile and needs to be carried back.
All of this has done nothing to improve her character or reduce her spitefulness; when victims do arrive at the castle, the Ripper spends days tormenting them by sending them through the mad labyrinth of passages and traps she has constructed inside the castle. Her creatures prowl the passageways, offering riddles, tests and punishments for those who fail. Their suffering brings her the only relief she feels from the ennui of her existence and the frustration of her inability to end that existence.
It is far better for an intruder to die somewhere in the labyrinth to the whips, claws and hungers of a fiendish or half-fiend host, than to be delivered to the shrine where the Ripper lounges on a bed upholstered with human skin, illuminated by glass spheres that contain bound souls.
The Ripper is ready to die. But she will make Malheorte suffer as much as she can until she does.
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Rock of the Fraternity
- Evil Genius
- Posts: 6077
- Joined: Wed Nov 21, 2007 1:16 pm
Re: Who's the Darklord? [4]
Sister Jessica is not so ancient.
She was still young and vital when the Ripper came to Malheorte, considered beautiful even by her handsome people. This was, in fact, the root cause for her problems; men were pressing their suits on her, and her father was practically weighing their wallets to decide who would get to take her.
Young Jessica fled into the Nunnery of the Shriven Soul to shake off the unwanted marriage offers and free herself from her father's control. It did work -- to a certain extent.
That extent being that she next found herself locked into a life of hard work, unending exercize and meditation, and dry study of the most boring subjects. Leaving the Nunnery should have been possible -- for anyone else.
To Jessica's chagrin, the other Nuns had in their own way become as infatuated with her as had her suitors of old. Upholding her as a shining example of physical perfection, they were determined to likewise perfect her mind and soul. Her dismissal was not to be thought of. Any attempts she made to force the issue by misbehaving was met with swift punishment and droning lectures on proper behaviour.
Jessica thought she must go mad ... and then she found the book in the forbidden section of the library during one of her acts of rebellion. It was a book detailing not ethics, not philosophy, but practical applications of the dark arts and the powers offered by wicked spirits. Hungry for the power the book offered, Jessica studied in the dark of night, when the other Nuns either slept or engaged in deep meditation.
When she started to hear the voice of the Ripper, Jessica knew full well what was happening. No matter what the fiend thought - what she still thinks - Jessica walked into their bargain with her eyes wide open. She also walked into it with zero intention of submitting to the demoness; rather, she would find a way to seize control of the thing and finally come out on top.
The fact that the Ripper was in fact suicidal filled Jessica with glee. She accepted doses of fiendish essence that made her the first host, greedily drank from the fiend's font of magical knowledge, and willingly provided the creature with victims to become additional hosts. As the Ripper grew weaker and weaker, Jessica grew stronger; as the demoness' first host and by both her physical power and growing magic, she took command over the other hosts. At times, the Ripper bestowed additional doses of essence on her, making Jessica ever less human, but also stronger, more likely to become truly eternal and free.
Let the Ripper cackle about her legacy and entertain herself, it was Jessica who saw to it that the victims kept coming and kept her creatures organized. When consulted on what would be the most fitting send-off for the Ripper's death, she hand-selected the last treat, the final feast; her own niece and nephew.
She jeered and laughed alongside the other hosts as the final farce was performed, the final desecration that would laud in her patron's death and her own ascension as the dark queen of Malheorte. Every torment visited on her nephew, every tear shed by her mutating niece, she witnessed and approved. When sister fell upon brother and the Ripper breathed her last, stuttering breaths, Jessica felt a great joy dawn in her. She, who had absorbed most of the Ripper's essence, was about to be transformed in an unimaginable way...!
And then her eyes met those of her niece. Eyes filled with hatred and self-loathing as the corrupted girl cradled her brother's corpse in her arms.
"Monster I am, beyond all doubt, but a far greater monster are you," her niece proclaimed. "As I will never know peace again, so may you never know peace."
Jessica's joy turned to rage as she hurled a bolt of power at niece and nephew both, but the unholy fire turned to fog before it could touch either. And the fog filled the room, engulfing all.
Current sketch:
She is in a position of great power, with unlimited access to all sections of the Nunnery's library. The Nuns of her order follow her edicts without question. The common people consider her to be a living icon of human perfection. The Lords and Ladies Mayor frequently consult with her by letter, hoping to benefit from her evident wisdom... and none of it means anything to her.
Jessica craves the depraved luxuries she was first exposed to as the Ripper's right-hand woman. She wants the freedom of eternal life and youth, to stand apart from frail humanity and mortals in general, to have truly forever to master the powers of mind and body.
Instead, she is constantly surrounded by sycophants who seem incapable of doing anything without her direction, called upon by ignorant officials who treat her as an unofficial sixth Lady Mayor, and forced to bend her not inconsiderable powers of magic and psionics to preserve her physical beauty.
While Jessica's physical and mental faculties are eternally preserved (and fixed; they can neither decrease nor increase for any reason), she has discovered that her appearance deteriorates at a frightening rate unless she preserves it with alchemical concoctions, psionic powers or arcane spells.
The best medicine to hold back the decay, or so Jessica has found, is to drain the humours of a comely youth and turn them into a salve. Unfortunately for her, she cannot simply go out and grab youngsters off the street; her appearance is well known in Malheorte, and her presence in any city or town leads to weeks of celebration. In addition, her favoured prey is also a target for the Ripper's creatures, which means she is competing with her former patron for victims.
The demoness may not be aware that Jessica still lives. If she does, she clearly does not care. But Jessica hungers for a chance to drain her old patron's essence and again set herself free from all the shackles of mortal life and humanity. Not that she would dare set foot in the Ripper's castle herself - she knows full well that either her old patron's creatures would tear her apart or the Ripper would just use her up unless she recognized her. And Jessica fate would be all the worse if the Ripper did remember her and decided to punish her for failure...
She was still young and vital when the Ripper came to Malheorte, considered beautiful even by her handsome people. This was, in fact, the root cause for her problems; men were pressing their suits on her, and her father was practically weighing their wallets to decide who would get to take her.
Young Jessica fled into the Nunnery of the Shriven Soul to shake off the unwanted marriage offers and free herself from her father's control. It did work -- to a certain extent.
That extent being that she next found herself locked into a life of hard work, unending exercize and meditation, and dry study of the most boring subjects. Leaving the Nunnery should have been possible -- for anyone else.
To Jessica's chagrin, the other Nuns had in their own way become as infatuated with her as had her suitors of old. Upholding her as a shining example of physical perfection, they were determined to likewise perfect her mind and soul. Her dismissal was not to be thought of. Any attempts she made to force the issue by misbehaving was met with swift punishment and droning lectures on proper behaviour.
Jessica thought she must go mad ... and then she found the book in the forbidden section of the library during one of her acts of rebellion. It was a book detailing not ethics, not philosophy, but practical applications of the dark arts and the powers offered by wicked spirits. Hungry for the power the book offered, Jessica studied in the dark of night, when the other Nuns either slept or engaged in deep meditation.
When she started to hear the voice of the Ripper, Jessica knew full well what was happening. No matter what the fiend thought - what she still thinks - Jessica walked into their bargain with her eyes wide open. She also walked into it with zero intention of submitting to the demoness; rather, she would find a way to seize control of the thing and finally come out on top.
The fact that the Ripper was in fact suicidal filled Jessica with glee. She accepted doses of fiendish essence that made her the first host, greedily drank from the fiend's font of magical knowledge, and willingly provided the creature with victims to become additional hosts. As the Ripper grew weaker and weaker, Jessica grew stronger; as the demoness' first host and by both her physical power and growing magic, she took command over the other hosts. At times, the Ripper bestowed additional doses of essence on her, making Jessica ever less human, but also stronger, more likely to become truly eternal and free.
Let the Ripper cackle about her legacy and entertain herself, it was Jessica who saw to it that the victims kept coming and kept her creatures organized. When consulted on what would be the most fitting send-off for the Ripper's death, she hand-selected the last treat, the final feast; her own niece and nephew.
She jeered and laughed alongside the other hosts as the final farce was performed, the final desecration that would laud in her patron's death and her own ascension as the dark queen of Malheorte. Every torment visited on her nephew, every tear shed by her mutating niece, she witnessed and approved. When sister fell upon brother and the Ripper breathed her last, stuttering breaths, Jessica felt a great joy dawn in her. She, who had absorbed most of the Ripper's essence, was about to be transformed in an unimaginable way...!
And then her eyes met those of her niece. Eyes filled with hatred and self-loathing as the corrupted girl cradled her brother's corpse in her arms.
"Monster I am, beyond all doubt, but a far greater monster are you," her niece proclaimed. "As I will never know peace again, so may you never know peace."
Jessica's joy turned to rage as she hurled a bolt of power at niece and nephew both, but the unholy fire turned to fog before it could touch either. And the fog filled the room, engulfing all.
Current sketch:
After the Mists rolled back, Jessica found herself back at the Nunnery of the Shriven Soul. To her horror, she was fully restored to her humanity (such as it ever was), and installed as the Nunnery's Matron Mother.Sister Jessica
LE middle-aged female human Monk 2 / Wizard 3 / Psion (Egoist) 3 / Enlightened fist 5 / Cerebremancer 5
She is in a position of great power, with unlimited access to all sections of the Nunnery's library. The Nuns of her order follow her edicts without question. The common people consider her to be a living icon of human perfection. The Lords and Ladies Mayor frequently consult with her by letter, hoping to benefit from her evident wisdom... and none of it means anything to her.
Jessica craves the depraved luxuries she was first exposed to as the Ripper's right-hand woman. She wants the freedom of eternal life and youth, to stand apart from frail humanity and mortals in general, to have truly forever to master the powers of mind and body.
Instead, she is constantly surrounded by sycophants who seem incapable of doing anything without her direction, called upon by ignorant officials who treat her as an unofficial sixth Lady Mayor, and forced to bend her not inconsiderable powers of magic and psionics to preserve her physical beauty.
While Jessica's physical and mental faculties are eternally preserved (and fixed; they can neither decrease nor increase for any reason), she has discovered that her appearance deteriorates at a frightening rate unless she preserves it with alchemical concoctions, psionic powers or arcane spells.
The best medicine to hold back the decay, or so Jessica has found, is to drain the humours of a comely youth and turn them into a salve. Unfortunately for her, she cannot simply go out and grab youngsters off the street; her appearance is well known in Malheorte, and her presence in any city or town leads to weeks of celebration. In addition, her favoured prey is also a target for the Ripper's creatures, which means she is competing with her former patron for victims.
The demoness may not be aware that Jessica still lives. If she does, she clearly does not care. But Jessica hungers for a chance to drain her old patron's essence and again set herself free from all the shackles of mortal life and humanity. Not that she would dare set foot in the Ripper's castle herself - she knows full well that either her old patron's creatures would tear her apart or the Ripper would just use her up unless she recognized her. And Jessica fate would be all the worse if the Ripper did remember her and decided to punish her for failure...
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Rock of the Fraternity
- Evil Genius
- Posts: 6077
- Joined: Wed Nov 21, 2007 1:16 pm
Re: Who's the Darklord? [4]
So to you falls the question: which of these two villains is the Darklady of Malheorte...?
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Mistmaster
- Evil Genius
- Posts: 1142
- Joined: Fri Feb 19, 2016 5:27 pm
Re: Who's the Darklord? [4]
Easy one this, Sister Jessica. A succubus has no much of a choise, being evil is in her essence. A fiend can be Darklord materizl only if that fiend is a mortal being turned fiend by its own depravity, in my hopinion.
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brothersale
- Evil Genius
- Posts: 292
- Joined: Thu Mar 25, 2004 9:02 am
Re: Who's the Darklord? [4]
I agree with Mistmaster, Sister Jessica. The Ripper by nature is inherently evil, and possesses no steps to fall into corruption.
If Ripper had been written as say a fallen angel tired of existance then maybe, or alternatively usurping an existing darklord or failed her final power ritual in some horrific way that could work as well. But the latter options would be just too many steps IMO and the end result could be lacking, as what benefit would such a option add to the setting be.
If Ripper had been written as say a fallen angel tired of existance then maybe, or alternatively usurping an existing darklord or failed her final power ritual in some horrific way that could work as well. But the latter options would be just too many steps IMO and the end result could be lacking, as what benefit would such a option add to the setting be.
All great movements require a few martyrs... -Moebius (soulreaver 2)