SteelAngel/DivineMortifier

The Divine Mortifier of the Thrice-Cursed Desert

Also known as the Nocturnal Saracen and the Ombudsman of the Dried Bones, The Divine Mortifier of the Thrice-Cursed Desert was once a powerful Twilight Solar from the Desert region. Once a simple tribesman that dabbled in shamanism, when he was Exalted during the First Age by Unconquered Sun, he gladly rose up and helped overthrow the Primordials with powerful, blunt Tribal magics. He was known for his lack of sophistication and straightforward approach to everything, even in the Age of Wonder; his magics would light the entire sky in the South, making the sands sparkle and causing joyous celebration in the tribesfolk that he still called his own.

He, though, like the other Solar Exalted, was smitten by the curse; his mind grew complicated, and politics and paranoia drove him to greater and greated acts of tyranny. Before the Usurpation, he had convinced himself that he was really a god, and as such dictated the forces of life and death. Those tribes that had loved him started to fear him, and his Lunar mate left, exiling herself to the anonymous desert away from him. Without her stabilising effect, he went totally off the rails, and was as such utterly unable to defend himself when the Usurpation came for him.

When presented with the offer of He Who Devours All, one of the more prominent Neverborn, he gladly accepted. His madness became a cold crystallised logic, a logic that granted him an in-depth understanding of politics and intricate planning. He became one of the Thirteen, taking his place once more in the Southern deserts, and crafting his Shadowland and Fortress alike with his powerful sorceries.

The Thrice-Cursed Desert is a huge shadowland. Winds constantly stir up the sands throughout the ruins of old settlements and demolished mine workings, obscuring vision to fifty yards ahead at best. Entrance to it is marked by the sand slowly becoming more grey and pale, and softer; the closer one gets to the citadel, the more it resembles ash, until at the base of the fortress, it actually IS ash. However, only one Exalt has ever made it to the citadel, and certainly no mortals, due to the warding of the shadowland. When any living thing enters the Thrice-Cursed Desert, within half a mile of entry, they become irrevocably lost; they can wander for hours, days, even weeks before emerging from the shadowland at another point. Those that are misdirected stand a half-chance of actually emerging in the Underworld; those that do soon realise their mistake, but are often too late to correct it.

Surrounding the shadowland in the Underworld is a tribe of ghost barbarians that were all killed and bound to the Divine Mortifier's service when he arrived in the region. They have all been warped and twisted by the powerful Ghost-Shaping Shaman amongst them that master the arts of the shaping Arcanoi, and make short work of any living thing that intrudes on their territory. They are a first line of defence, only bested by the second.

The fortress itself is a truly frightening sight. It is made of volcanic rock, and rises out of the ground in five mighty spires that curve inwards and meet half a mile in the sky. Crowning these five spires is a circular podium fifty yards in diameter, and upon this sits the Divine Mortifier on his throne of Soulsteel. Stood in front of each door into each spire is a horrific creature forged from the blackest Daybreak necrosurgery, each one singular and fantastic in its sheer might and originality, capable of freezing the hearts of any that might look upon them that are not already frozen to such things.

The Divine Mortifier himself is far less terrifying than those five sentinels, at least, to the eye. He is six feet tall, with dark southern skin and shaven head, white iris-less eyes gleaming out from his skull unblinkingly, seeing far-off things. He wears the pieced-together tribal garb of a Southern lizard cult, dark red scales stretched over his specially-made armour, and the skull of a southern lizard crowning his head, fitted with the black feathers of some extinct species of bird. It is when he speaks that he is truly his most terrifying; his voice isnt his own, but the sussurations and echoes of all the singular souls within his armour, and his mighty weapon: Dirge.

Dirge appears to be similar to a single Tiger Claw, except for its construction. His right fist is utterly encased in it, the gauntlet itself carved from the bones of a wyld-tainted giant and engraved with glyphs that hurt the eye, and the blades that extend over each finger are forged from a very special Soulsteel: they are made entirely from the souls of innocent children. As such, when he speaks, his armour speeks in deep somber tones, while Dirge is childlike and melodic. He uses Dirge to great effect in combat, especially its inbuilt ability to slash people in twain, cutting adrift the Hun and the Po and devouring both to feed his sorceries.

The true power behind the Nocturnal Saracen is obviously his sorcery. He uses it to keep his realm in check, and as such, needs few Abyssal Exalted to aid him in his task. This means that each of them enjoys a greater measure of trust than most Abyssals might in service to their Deathlords; especially the master of the Divine Mortifier's secret police, who maintains his interests in Creation throughout the South, even going so far as spying on the First and Forsaken Lion.

While most Deathlords find the Divine Mortifier unpalatable to deal with, he and the Silver Prince have brokered a particularly potent deal. Between the two, they could neatly divide up the South from Wood to Water, if only for the presence of the First and Forsaken Lion; as such, they are making their own moves. The Bodhissatva Anointed by Dark Waters is crafting an alliance with the first of the Deathlords, while the Divine Mortifier seeks to undermine his position; depending on how the Lion reacts, his fate could either be shared with the two, or he could be removed entirely.

This would be made possible by the Divine Mortifiers own extremely numerous and potent military; while he has few Abyssals at his command, he has a huge amount of walking dead and war ghosts in his service, and a large selection of necrosurgery war machines crafted by the twins simply known as Black Orchid and White Orchid. They were the first to experiment with the wings of the huge flying lizards known as Sandsoarers that lurk in the high reaches of the south east, and have even crafted a Warstrider-like construction.

All this, though, has come at a price; for the Divine Mortifier of the Thrice Cursed Desert is totally and utterly insane.

He believes that oblivion will wait for him. His ultimate plan, in a typically blunt fashion, is to take over everything that he can lay his hands on, and rule over it, in hopes that the Neverborn will allow him to control the entirety of Creation if he forces all to channel their prayers through to his Malfean masters. This is of course wrong, but any that have tried to tell him have died at his hand; a notable incident was the slaying of a servant of the Mask of Winters who dared to imply that the Divine Mortifier was wrong.

Still, he waits for the opportunity to spread his shadow across the South and beyond, through alliance or treachery.

Potential plots to use the Divine Mortifier in are normally less centered around subtle politics and affairs of state, and are more focussed around power plays and outright military onslaught. His current machinations are diverse in nature and scope, but potentially include:

• The sacking of Gem; an infiltration of the city through the Shadowlands in the lower mine workings, followed by a lengthy internal siege that eventually becomes a simple war of attrition. The undead can't really lose such things, so the fall of Gem would follow. This would be a direct offensive movement against the First and Forsaken Lion, and he would be likely to respond in kind.
• An alliance between the Divine Mortifier's forces and the tribal folk of the desert to overturn The Lap, a first step toward ridding the South of Immaculate interference. Such a siege would be more like a classical siege, with dramatic battles and war machines being brought to bear; note that such an action would most likely not be as resisted by the First and Forsaken Lion, as it would be a big thorn out of his side.
• Outright war between the First and Forsaken Lion and the Divine Mortifier. An epic battle between the dead, swayed easily one way or the other, since the two have comparable military forces; should the Lion win, he could quite easily march to the Thrice-Cursed Desert and assault it with full force. However, the Lion's own dominion - The Thousand - would provide an entirely different prospect...
• The Silver Prince making outward motions all across the West, backed up by the Divine Mortifier, who keeps the Lion busy and provides supplies and soldiery. This kind of operation would provide advantages for both Deathlords, in that it would allow them to surround and overpower the Silver Prince if it came to it.

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