Creatures/The Ebon Dragon

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The Ebon Dragon

Causality, Consequences
Progeny Count: 8:17:19!
Back to /ATaxonomyOfMadness

  • Erembour, That Which Calls to the Shadows
    • Alveua, Expressive, Keeper of the Forge of Night
      • Firmin, the Needlemaker
      • Sesselja, the Stomach Bottle Bug
    • Makarios, Warden, the Sigil's Dreamer
      • Chrysogona, the Crying Woman
    • Nedian</b>, Defining, The Unknown Dark (TheMyriadOfShades)

Nedian's true shape is that of Erembour's true shadow-- when he is off on his own, either by some private whim or by sorcerous command, Erembour is left to effortlessly craft a more mundane shadow for herself. If Nedian were to be destroyed, Erembour would temporarily be without a real shadow and would lose her command over the creatures of the night (and, in Malfeas, the monsters that lurk in the Ebon Dragon's Shadow) until she regenerated him. This takes a lunar month in Creation, a week in Malfeas, and a single night if she can summon Aluveia to her side and set her to the task of remaking Nedian. Nedian can take the shape of any of the creatures of the night, but is more often a formless, shifting shadow. He has no human shape, as his was the love of the dark beyond human settlements, from whence spring the things that haunt men in the darkness. The creatures of the underways beneath the world do homage to him, for his darkness is that of things beyond the influence of both men and gods.

  • <b>Euthychia, The Bull Slain on Stagnation's Altar
  • Marsilion, the Eidolon of Shadow (Quendalon)

In every shadowed hall and darkened cellar of the Demon City, Marsilion waits. He exists to know and to share the solitude of the shadows, and his patience is boundless. The demons of Malfeas bring light with them whenever they tread the dark places lest they fall victim to his power. Marsilion has no body of his own; he manifests by possessing a mortal host, which hardens into a slowly moving statue of black stone, and he will do the same to any summoner who fails to provide a suitable vessel. In his presence, dead flesh turns to stone and shed blood becomes a fine black dust that sifts away on the wind. His touch petrifies flesh and bone, turning victims into living statues, immobile but aware, forever trapped in a prison of obsidian or basalt. He may offer a summoner knowledge of anything that occurs in darkness.

    • Achololim, Wisdom, He Who Awaits the Sign (Quendalon)

Like a gargoyle, the bat-headed, bat-winged Achololim perches atop the parapets of the Demon City. Jet-black skin, threaded with scars white as bone, covers his muscular frame, and his barbed tail lashes the air. Wherever he goes, even into Creation, the very stones beneath his feet whisper their own secret dooms. Achololim awaits the coming of a nameless being whose destiny has been blazoned upon the twisted skies of Malfeas. He knows nothing of the one he seeks, not even whether it is a demon, a mortal, or some other thing; but he continues to watch, and wait, for he knows that his time will come.

      • Naneke, the Reader of Forbidden Texts (Quendalon)

Of the countless demon races, there are many whose sole purpose is to deal in the lore of the demon world. These beings haunt the great glass libraries of Malfeas, seeking the truths placed there by Orabilis. Most of the demon scholars fear to read too deeply, lest they awaken Orabilis’ ire; but the Naneke have no such fear. Burning for the touch of Orabilis, they plumb the uttermost depths of Malfean lore. Each appears as a hunchbacked mortal with the head of a preying mantis, whose long-nailed hands glitter with countless tiny barbs.

Dark veils conceal the true semblances of these squat, lumpish demons. Their keen noses discern the scents of pain and despair, drawing them like moths to a flame. It is their nature to offer surcease, whispering words of solace in their wearisome voices, and so lulling their charges to sleep. Their words dissolve those whom they press into slumber, transforming the sleepers into tears, wine, oil or blood, depending on their nature.

    • Alioth, Messenger, Night’s Embrace (Quendalon)

Alioth appears as a cloud of velvety blackness that drifts like fog upon the air. His embrace grants the gift of solitude; those within know only darkness, cut off from all light and from all sound other than their own voice and the beating of their heart. For over a thousand years, Alioth has been bound within the Tomb of Night under the city of Nexus, and he yearns to be free.

      • Ferimur, the Evanescent Journeyman (Quendalon)

These swirling ribbons of reddish-black fog coalesce into manlike shapes with long, delicate fingers and scarlet eyes. They fashion the metal and stone of the demon realm into cunning forms, constructing blades and tools, talismans and ornaments, always working a measure of their own substance into their creations. For all of their skillful craftsmanship, such devices bear the curse of the ferimur, bringing dark moods and ill fortune to those that bear them. Eventually a ferimur invests the last of itself in an item, and ceases to be; but when one of its creations is used to kill, a new ferimur rises from the blood shed thereby.

These slender androgynes offer solace to all who desire it, their night-dark eyes bewitching any who meet their gaze. Their breath sharpens the mind but dulls the senses, eventually leaving their lovers helplessly deaf and blind. Contrariwise, the blood, sweat, flesh and tears of the Shadha all sharpen the senses while dulling the mind; such demons as would slay and feed upon them become mindless ravening beasts that haunt the darkened places of Malfeas.

  • Aramedisae, The Path Between the Forgotten and the Lost (Translucidity)

The ninth soul of the Ebon Dragon, Aramedisae is the shadowed corridor that leads to a boundless eternity, the paths that only the lost and the blind can navigate, and the edge of labyrinthine darkness within every mortal's soul. Her darkened doorways touch upon Creation in a thousand places and nowhere, for those that walk within her halls travel within a shadow of themselves, never emerging unscathed, perhaps never emerging at all - but she holds a path to every place lost to other ways, and it is for this reason those who seek the forgotten brave Aramedisae.

To look upon Inchoal is to see one's own firstborn staring back, their eyes full of hurt. It is to see them a twisted mockery of the human form, a vision so painful to regard that it sears itself into onlooker's minds for a year and a day. Perverting any true image of that child they might behold, the torment of such a sight pulls tears of blood from their eyes, and filled with loathing, they are driven only by a burning need to destroy the abomination they have spawned. Such is the power of this madness that even the childless are not spared it, though at least they endanger nothing more than their sanity and Inchoal himself.

The third soul of the Ebon Dragon appears, disarmingly, as a man clad in black robes. This raiment goes beyond the pitch that even the greatest dyers in the world can manage, and in it one can see nothing but perhaps half-remembered snippets of their own nightmares. Should his smoked spectacles be removed, though, one will see pits of darkness where he should have eyes. Echthros is something of the abyss, and for this he consumes as he will, and as those who summon him would, and wipes that which he takes from the minds of all. He is rare among his bretheren for having ony six souls: perhaps Nothing casts no reflection, or perhaps the introspections that soul showed him were displeasing, and he ate her much as he has consumed so much before.

Roiye is perhaps one of the most dangerous demon of his kind to the mighty. It is given to him that the more powerful and divine a heavenly creature is, the less visible he becomes in its eyes. He exists more thoroughly outside the watch of Fate than most other demons, such that those creatures who are bound to heaven and its service find it more difficult to percieve him, and his actions are completely unpredictable by astrology. He can also extend his touch to others, shielding them from the watch of Heaven for a time.

      • Relkast, the Spider's Mask (Mockery)

The shadowy, hulking figure that is a Relkast is the stuff of nightmares. Its breath stinks of rot, and in its massive jaws one can see the remains of those who stood against it before. Its three-dozen eyes scan before it,and it hunts with predatory ease. Yet it seems that its crafter planned greatly upon its ability to intimidate; this terrible visage exists only in front, and if one should get a clear view of its back, they will see the little heart of the Relkast, a diminuitive, spidery puppeteer, soft and unarmored.

      • Tluspa, the Forlorn Seekers (Mockery)

There are few things more pitiful and wretched than a Tluspa. Their eyes are huge and despairing, and they speak in hushed sobs. Their faces are pale, and their robes are drab and ragged. Some confuse them for ghosts, and something in them is much closer to human than many other demons. But the warmth of a mortal embrace, the only thing that stills their tears and for a moment ends their sorrow, also freezes the marrow in the bones of the hapless mortal, and quickly kills them. It is said that every Tluspa has one mortal they are destined to meet, whose embrace will not grow cold, who will still their tears forever. Those who whisper this legend, however, often disagree whether this means the destruction or salvation of the demon.

Kassat wears robes (and is composed of) of shimmering glass, prismatic and bright. Underneath these, she holds treasures the like of which the world may never know. The folds of her garb part from time to time, and what it reveals is never human beneath, but a collection of oddities and wonders the likes of which even the Wyld might find far-fetched and amazing. Sometimes, little trinkets fall free from her body, and she does not notice this unless called to her attention. What falls may be as unimportant as a sphere that emits a gentle glow, and does not move from where it is placed, even if that place should be in midair, or a first-age weapon of unfathomable potential. Kassat deals only in unique items: that which she has already will not interest her, unless its possession makes her own more valuable.

      • Fillax, The Wondrous Butterfly (Mockery)

There are times, even under the green sun of Ligier, where pure white light pierces Kassat, and in the space of a few seconds, she births through her mouth a caterpillar the size of a dog. With its creation, Kassat chooses a thing that it admires, and at the next calibration, it metamorphoses to resemble this: a sword, a man or woman, a tree or other demon. The Fillax has nothing but adulation for that which it resembles, and will seek it out in Creation, if it has the chance, and can be told apart from its original only by the prismatically-hued wings it sports that can carry it anywhere. However, if its perfect image of the original is cracked, if the original changes in any way from how it was at the Fillax's creation, if it is scarred, if it learns or changes its mind, love withers and turns to hate, and the Wondrous Butterfly will do its utmost to destroy the original, even though it, too, will die in the process.

      • Uthiul, the Vitreous Jailer (Mockery)

There is no set shape to an Uthiul, merely a color, a glassy, smoky, and empty grey that neither reflects light nor lets it through. They hide easily, rarely larger than a handful of their substance, and move quickly to engulf anything that catches their eye, or that a sorceror commands them to consume. Their touch is smooth and cool, and in less than a minute, the tiny blob can engulf a large man, and then suddenly collapse back to its regular size. Anything or anyone thus eaten goes Elsewhere, to remain until the Uthiul elects to give up what it has eaten.

All men and women have secrets. Desires wear away self-control, and one's holding back slowly gives way, and a dam-burst of vice is the result. Mellamy will listen to you. Mellamy will absolve your sins. She smiles, takes your hand, and for one last night, those whom she blesses indulge themselves with her as they see fit, be it in gambling, drink, drugs, sex, or violence, until they pass out from exhaustion. When the sun rises again on them, their sins seem distant and far away, and the concept of indulging again, just a little, is foreign to them, though new vices will always spring up to take their place. Mellamy appears as a lovely, tempting young woman with ruddy hair and grey eyes, dressed in argent sheets and veils that never truly reveal, but hint at what must lay beneath. She may take other forms, though this is her favorite. No matter what shape she wears, she may be picked out by her necklace of clam-shells.

      • The Pearl Child (Mockery, FourWillowsWeeping)

Whenever Mellamy steals a vice, one of her clamshells opens, and one of the Pearl Children is born. Like tiny nacre statues, they bear a strong resemblance to dreamflies, but their wings billow through the air like a fish's fins, and their faces have strange and frightening looks of fascination and addiction. The Pearl Children live to spread the vice that they embody; each seeks out a strong-willed man and weakens him by becoming a part of him. One can recognize a man being manipulated by one of these by the pearly colour of his eyes.

      • Tosuir, The Scourge of Souls (Mockery)

Mellamy's purpose is dual: to draw sin out where it exists, and purge it. To this end, she will at times crush one of the myriad shells that circle her neck, and cast the pieces away covered in her blood, and they form into a serpent. The newborn Tosuir searches out the guilty, and with its venom leaves them guilt-ridden, suffering regret for anything and everything that one may have doubts over. Those who commit suicide under such circumstances lose their souls to the Tosuir, and this strengthens them.

It is said that when Trespan first came into being, birthed from the wisdom of Echthros, he looked to his father and spoke The Truth. His words were not recorded, or perhaps they were, but the Rip in the World-Cloth has long since consumed them. He was cursed then and there to suffer, to know exactly what he looked at, to see nothing but the truth, the most awful truth there was. Since then, he has cycled between preternatural calm and insanity, regenerating his eyes only to tear them out when his too-keen vision divulges too much.

When Trespan tears out his eyes, they become the Fasherai, orbs of vision that roll gruesomely across the land, or walk, or fly, as each chooses. One who tears out one of his own eyes and places one of these in its place will have an eye that sees the Truth, but not the glittering Truth unobscured by opinion and doubt. The Fasherai, torn by their love of the Lord That Rejected, are capable of seeing only darkness and pain and hope for restoration; they slowly pass their madness on to one who takes them.

      • Merodui, the Tangled Whispers (Mockery)

There is something else that Trespan is known for making: just as he tears his own eyes from his face to bring himself into sanity, the last wordless hiss that emerges from his throat as he descends into madness also takes form as one of his offspring. A Merodu manifests as a crimson tangle of thread that moves by extending part of itself from the tangle, only to form a new knot several yards away. One can be cajoled into untangling itself, and may even allow itself to be woven into some article of clothing, a shirt or cloak. There, it will mutter to itself and its wearer, telling lies and half-truths that they both wish to believe.

To summon Oskilla, one must take the live egg of a bird. Any species of bird works, though certain First Age texts suggest the egg of a dove. The egg must be near hatching, though uncracked, and is placed within the summoning circle as the ritual begins. This egg and the new life it contains are annihilated in the summoning, and become the host for the massive, quasi-reptilian monstrosity that emerges, both strong of arm and quick of wit, and is oftened summoned for the visions he may induce.

      • Myrriah, the Madness at Morning (Mockery)

From the time that the rooster crows to the first time a subbeam hits the ground, the Myrriah stalks. It takes the form of a fine white cloud that might be confused for a cloud of mist, save that it pads on the ground like a cat. It hunts its prey, and when it finds a victim, it pounces, and the whole cloud forces itself into the lungs of the poor soul, who promptly goes insane. It can enter man, beast, or god, and consumes them from the inside out like a parasite, until all that is left is a dazed shell, and the Myrriah must leave.

      • Kerumath, the Lastling Road (Mockery)

The Kerumath is unassuming, a grey bird the size of a sparrow that flits from branch to branch and shakes itself fussily. It has a fondness for birdbaths. Like many demons of the first circle, though, this creature is intelligent, very much so. As long as one listens to it, they shall prosper in their endeavors. Business shall be brisk and profitable, skirmishes will fall in their direction. Unfortunately, while their chosen one proceeds to gain profits, every good thing that comes is counterbalanced by a misfortune that strikes a loved one. Jade and silver pours into his own coffers, and those around him become sickly, destitute, and die, until all that is left is a mighty lord standing alone, and the Kerumath leaves the man to his fate.

Sossurl appears as a massive man, broad of shoulder and stocky of build, a trowel in one hand and and a block of basalt in the other. He may lay mortar with the trowel indefinitely, and whenever he sets the stone down, a new one forms in his hand. Where he lays down a wall, a divide springs up among men, and their purposes will come to oppose one another. He works with joy, and watches the stife it causes impassively. For now, he waits with the patience of the stone he holds to break free, and to begin his work by walling apart the five poles from each other.

Those walls that Sossurl builds lead many to war, and there are times where two who hate each other by dint of those walls will slay each other. When they do, their higher and lower souls are pulled to the wall, and there are steeped in demonic magic until the next new moon, where at midnight from the rock crawls forth this thing, with four howling visages that leer like gargoyles. It knows no purpose but hate, and attacks all it can see, stopping only to open itself up to inter the bodies of the fallen.

Sometimes, there are no walls that Sossurl can build, and at these times he strikes at the stone in his hand with his trowel. The block cracks, and from within comes a six-legged foal that grows to maturity in a week. No Ferthan can walk along a field or a desert, or any place that does not by its nature divide one place from another. To do so will kill it instantly. The horse can, however, walk along any dividing line with ease, whether it be a road, a river, a fence, or the empty gap of a canyon.

The demon prince Jugurtha presides over a palace of torment on Kimbery’s bleak and empty shore. His massive black-skinned torso rests on a gargantuan serpentine body whose scales gleam like ripples on starlit water. Darkness roils about him and bends to his will, gaining substance with which to suffocate, crush and consume. For all his might and malice, he rarely kills, for he finds his greatest joys in breaking his prey in body, mind and soul. And when he utterly extinguishes the last spark of a mortal’s will, he replaces it with a wisp of his own shadow, making that mortal’s will his own.

    • Sekai, Messenger, the Shadow-Rider (Quendalon)

Sekai towers over most men, with broad shoulders and a powerful build. Her skin and hair are both a dull gray, and her eyes gleam like ivory. Darkness swirls about her, clinging to her as gleaming black armor, congealing into hammers and blades at her design. She rides her own twisted shadow like a horse, and it comprises the greater part of her strength; it may split into many or merge into one, or take tangible form and act on her behalf.

Forever in motion, this black wind consumes all that it touches. Rock crumbles to sand, plants turn to ash, and flesh dissolves into shadow. Only bone endures, transmuted by the wind into rough black stone. When in Creation, it carves out a steadily widening circle of sand and ash during the night; within that circle, fire and water sputter into smoke and mist, while the sun seems curiously dim. Sun, fire and water wound the Breath outside of its circle; within, it fears only ice, red-hot metal and the Five Magical Materials.

    • Talios, Lord Of Air And Darkness, Wisdom Soul of the Coils of Night (Falcon)

Building his shape out of transient shadows and the last breaths of mortals, Talios was always a greater power in Creation than in the stark green glare of Malfeas. When in the lands of mortals, everything spoken at night is carried to his ears by enslaved air spirits and he is constantly surrounded by a sussuration of nocturnal secrets. He is known to favour the number nine, although no one knows why, and he has not been sighted in Malfeas for centuries.

  • Xipantek, the Shadow Feeder (Telgar)

The quintessential boogeyman, Xipantek is a living shadow that walked the dark corners of Creation before the Primordials were imprisoned. Any being standing in shadow is potential prey to Xipantek, who sucks the victim into the shadow and there feasts on their flesh. Once he has finished his meal, the Shadow Feeder expells the bloody remains from another shadow and returns to his prowling. In Malfeas, the favorite prey of Xipantek is blood apes and other low-ranking, unintelligent demons. He hungers for the sweet flesh of mortals and takes every chance to journey to Creation.

    • Yura of the Demon Hair, Indulgent Soul (Telgar)

A beautiful young woman, short and dark-haired, Yura spends most of her time manipulating weaker demons as puppets in her deranged shadow-plays. Wrapping her invisible hair-threads around them, Yura manipulates her puppets in a very real way, jerking their thoughts and bodies to dance.

    • Kambos the Flesh Eating Mask, Messenger Soul (Telgar)

Rarely seen in his true form, a stylized human face painted onto a simple noh mask, Kambos exists as a flesh-eater. He consumes the bodies of humans and demons alike, processing them into his own form, a congealed mass of brownish ooze that he can form into any shape that suits him. Most often the ooze appears in the rougly humanoid form of a hooded and cloaked savant. The flesh-ooze of Kambos quickly disintegrates, forcing the flesh eater to devour victims at a rapacious rate.

  • Urnammu, the Crushing Weight of Shadows (Quendalon)

Comments

Great stuff, Mockery. I particularly like the Eggshell Sentry. Two things, though: First, no Reflective soul? Second, if you would be so kind as to limit your descriptions to a brief paragraph and update the Progeny Count on the main page.. oh, that's three... - FourWillowsWeeping (I've dealt with the count, of course.)

I'll second that "Great stuff", even to the point of particularly liking the Eggshell Sentry. Just tweaked Inchoal, myself, after deciding that the previous version wasn't as interesting as it could be. - Translucidity

Interesting stuff; I particularly like Sossurl. I agree with FWW, however: as per the introduction on the main /ATaxonomyOfMadness page, the descriptions should be brief and to the point, no more than a paragraph of a few sentences, as these pages are meant for summaries, not for full NPC writeups. Additional information to flesh out a demon should go on its own page. - Quendalon

Good job on mentioning First-Circle progeny, by the way. I'm going to separate those out into their own entries, though. - FourWillowsWeeping

Done what I could about shortening the entries. I'll put the full writeups back on my own page later. I had my own ideas for The Pearl Children and the Fasherai, but the Tosuir can serve that puepose, and the Fasherai is almost spot-on with what I had in mind.(Mockery)

Awesome! It'll be great to have the long writeups still bouncing around. I'd be really interested to see what you had in mind for your version of the First-Circles... I just thought I'd try and riff off your ideas. It's fun! - FourWillowsWeeping

The Ferthan is the new one, eh? It's pretty cool! - Quendalon

The Flesh-Eating Mask reminds me of that hungry spirit from Spirited Away. I wonder if it's an actual creature from Japanese folklore?\\ _Ikselam

It may well be, I got the idea from Inuyasha. I don't have a handy source of Japanese mythology to check though. - Telgar

Yeah, Ms. Takahashi does have the tengency to borrow liberally from Japanese folklore. Might I note that in the manga, the mask's body was actually flesh-colored. A bit creepier, that way. Mockery

Telgar: You haven't attributed soul parts to Yura or Kambos. Might I suggest that Yura is the indulgent soul of Xipantek, and Kambos either his defining or his messenger soul? --MF

Falcon - Hope Quendalon doesn't mind me swiping his third-circle demon so I can give it some progeny. I've been looking for a place to slot Talios in since I invented him. There'll probably be more details on my page.

You aren't by any chance a Laurell K. Hamilton fan, are you? ;) Nice fiction on your page, btw. Incidentally, may I ask why Talios is a 'Communicator' soul rather than one of the standard seven types? - Translucidity

Falcon - I wouldn't say 'fan', exactly, but it was an idea too good not to steal. And according to Games of Divinity, communicate is one of the standard seven types (I checked before assigning :) ). Protect, gratify, define, communicate, express, reflect, understand. Or... would that be Messenger soul? Hmm.

Defining, Expressive, Indulgent, Messenger, Reflective, Warden and Wisdom are the standard terms used in titles; given that Jugurtha already has a Messenger aspect defined, may I suggest Wisdom? - it still fits nicely with the hoarding of secrets IMO. - Translucidity

Falcon - Right. I think we're looking at different lists, but Jugurtha does already have a Messenger. Wisdom it is, then. Edit edit edit...