Death of a Demon

Payne stood up and scanned the darkness, the shadows almost impossible to see through.  He knew he was being followed and he had an idea by who.  Closing his eyes a moment, he drew a breath and listened to the near still sounds of the forest.  Five miles, maybe six.  They could cover that distance faster than he could.  Any Tormentor would be an even match for a Shadow Fiend, but Payne was not just any Tormentor.  He was seen as weak by his own kind.  Tall, willowly and gentle, he had a soft spot in his black heart no other of his kind had.  As a youngling he found a dying dog and instead of torturing it in its final hours, he held it in his arms and cried, finally making one single violation of the animal’s life to create a monstrous Tormentor-dog pet.  His father slit the dog’s throat when brought home and beat Payne for hours with a whip to teach him a lesson. 

“Youngling, you are weak!” He hissed between lashes.  “How dare you use our powers to make your own pet.  If the council were to find out, they would end your life slowly”

Payne shuddered as the sound of his father’s voice echoed in his mind… so many years past and he went off on his own, away from the rest of his family.  The only minor familiar thing he kept with him was the ragged teddy bear he’d found in an empty farm house as a youngling, tucked away in his tight coat.  His long fingers stroked the lump where the little toy lay underneath and hidden away.

He shook his head, to bring him back to the now, moving quickly to find a place best suited to defend himself against the enemy.  The shadows were used to their advantage, but Payne knew what would work for himself.  A mile along the shallow creek was a enough of a drop off to make a decent waterfall… here he could back himself against the stone and face the enemy and have a chance to save his own skin. 

It took him no time at all to find the rock wall, the water tumbling down over the stones.  This would have to do, it was only a little taller than himself, but he crouched down with a long piece of wood gripped in his hand to wait.  He felt his way to the middle where the rock created a bit of an overhang, his coat slick with water and his boots heavy, making his progress difficult, but he could hear the odd whispers over the splashing water. “Seee… you.”

He turned to face the shadows in front of him.

“Weakling…. all alone.”

Payne let out a hiss, but sadly it was one that wouldn’t instill fear in a rabbit let alone a Shadow Fiend.  Perhaps the rabbit did faint, he couldn’t know for sure.

“Alone… unwanted.” The voice whispered.

He growled like an angry feline. “Never!” his voice cracked a bit has he uttered the word.

The darkness seemed to chuckle as a pair of red eyes peered at him from the shadow. “Coward… hide in the waterfall like a frog.”

Payne finally bared his sharp teeth at the being. “Hardly… if you are so brave, you come forward!”

The shadows seemed to fold around the eyes and the male finally stepped forward. “Fine, I will come and get you coward Tormentor.”  The long black-purple hair moved like a veil around his face, his own twisted smile full of sharp teeth.  “I don’t fear your kind and to kill the coward Tormentor will be an easy one too.”

Payne shook a bit in rage, which the other being took for weakness and came forward slowly and further from the shadows. “An easy kill for me, yes….”

“No female… no one wants you. Such an embarrassment you are.  Kill you and keep your head for a trophy.

Without the shadows, the Fiend had much less power, but was still strong.  Thankfully he didn’t see the long branch he gripped in his arm under the falling water.

“Bold statements for you, tracking down a Tormentor!”  Between his own anger and the cold water, he couldn’t help but chatter his teeth, making the Shadow Fiend laugh even more.  Stopping only outside an arms length from Payne he looked him square in the eyes. “Are you ready to die young one?”  Without hesitation, Payne swung his arm, log and all, bringing the full force across the side of the Fiend’s head, knocking him down.  Taking the opportunity to pounce on the falling creature, he dug his claws into the other’s face as he pushed it down under the water. 

The Fiend scrambled to dig his own hands to free his face, now submerged under the cold water.  In a panic, he tried to squirm away from the young Tormentor, but soon he would need to breath or slip into the shadows to escape.

Payne clung to the wiggling being, desperately trying to throw a leg around the other’s body to hold him down till he drowned.  It was a true fight to the death… and within five minutes was over as the Fiend sucked down water instead of air.  Gasping for his own breath, Payne finally let go after feeling the other creature stop fighting.  He gripped the male by the hair and pulled him from the creek, twisting its neck to make sure it was truly dead before dropping to his knees in the gravel.  The weak Tormentor killed his first foe.  He would be welcomed home as one of his own again with no questions. 

For some time he sat, shivering against the cold before moving to the dead body.  A trophy… he must return with something!  He turned the lifeless body over to stare into the eyes that had turned black.  The head would be too cumbersome to carry, but the signet ring of the Shadow Fiends would be perfect for one.  He pulled the ring off the finger and stopped, slipping it back on and severing the whole hand from the arm.  A hand would do perfectly.  Not only bring the ring, but the whole hand of his enemy home!  He nodded, then bent over and gagged, spilling bile and some of the remnants of his last meal next to himself.  This would be something he’d have to live with for a very long time.

He moved to pull the Fiend’s bag from its body and shoved the hand inside, then searched the body for other trinkets and weapons to take with him.  When satisfied, he stood slowly and made his way in the direction of home. 

The demon was now dead.

Leachers

A non-corporeal demon who takes over mostly men, but occasionally women, latching onto their most darkest desires and often the worst ones.  Engaging in rape, incest, and mental torture, these demons only enhance the worst a person holds in their hearts and would do if they had lost all control of themselves anyway.

Mirror Demons or Mirrors

The Mirror Demon is a type of inter-dimensional traveler that requires the aid of a twin. Twin births are the norm, though a rare twin birth would consist of a male/female pair. A single birth is the rarest of all where the being can travel without the aid of a twin. 98% of all Mirrors are male/male or female/female twins, needing to be identical to do the travel. The male/female pair has a increased chance of difficulty in working the spell to travel between dimensions.

Their weakness lies when the twins are split between dimensions, one alone can be trapped or killed, leaving the other stranded for the rest of its natural life. Hybrids can occur in this type of situation but without training, the hybrids often lack the needed information to travel on their own. The hybrid offspring will often carry characteristics of both parents, but will always lean towards its Mirror lineage.

Pairing and breeding with their own kind, the pair will choose a mate and stay with them exclusively, at times switching between themselves. Since twins are identical down to the very genes that produce them, it is determined that both 'fathers' are the parent of each set of offspring. Offspring are raised in a home with four parents, two males and two females, all are treated equally.

Mirrors often have a form of silent communication between them, sharing a hive-like mind. While no words are formed, its more ideas or visions that are shared between the pair as that can travel further distances and between dimensions.

Prologue: Debitor's Prison

Sterling pulled on his jacket and hurried out the door. He had overslept a bit for some odd reason and didn’t know why. Any other time that him and Delilah slept together, he felt fine the next morning. Today was just off and he couldn’t put his finger on it. He had tucked away five orbs, ready to get to work, and at least they should be easy ones today, perhaps later he could bring home a treat for him to share with his love.

He stalked the shifty looking male, drat him, he keep moving into populated places and he could not get him alone. This would be his fifth soul today and the last one he needed to stay on track. Get him and a stop off at the chocolatiers and get some fresh dipped strawberries. Delilah would love that and it made his mouth water. He could feed them to her as desert and then a nightcap of alone time for them would be just what they wanted. He moved along in the crowd following the male, but he took a turn that didn’t seem to make sense. Sterling paused and was summarily bumped into. “Beg your pardon sir.” The voice came behind him.

“Oh, sorry, didn’t know you were back there. Forgive me.” He replied and started to head off.
“Mind if we have a bit of a chat guv’nor?” The voice came again.

Sterling turned and looks at the man, blinking and confused. “Yes, of course. Is something wrong?”

The man was dressed in a simple uniform, similar to a typical constable, yet the badge was unmistakable. “Just a bit of a chat is all, got a report here and just want to talk it over with yas.”

Sterling seemed confused, but nodded and motioned to a small out of the way place. It was odd that he was being tracked himself and by ‘them’. “If it’s about the male I am trailing, my contractor has the documentation.”

Three other males, each one seemingly larger than the other, followed along. “Nah sir, it’s wif you. You are under arrest for being delinquent in your souls.”

Sterling paled as the man spoke the words. “I have four souls now and I’ve been working every day this week. I don’t understand.”

“That’s to be taken up wif the courts, we is just here to pick you up.” He motions to one of the largest males, the one with a pair of rusty shackles in his massive hands. He moves forward and locks them on Sterling’s wrists.

Rather than fight now, he would have Delilah summoned and she could straighten this mess out for him, or his contractor. In a matter of time he’d be back on the streets and in his home. Surely this was a simple mistake and could be rectified.

An hour later they arrived at the building, it was dark and gloomy inside and unpleasant for a collector of his status. Sterling was strip searched and many of his personal effects were taken away, locked up in bin and recorded as his.

He looks up to the male recording his items. “When will my contractor and girlfriend be contacted?”

The male looks up at him and wrinkles his nose. “We send a kid with word to them; now just shut your mouth unless you are asked specific questions.”

Sterling nods and stands silently as the orbs he had collected that day were recorded in the ledger. “Yes sir.” Were his only words.

From there he was taken to a cell, left for the time being. A meal was delivered to him of water and a thin gruel with a bit of bread. Sterling could only sigh and try to eat his tasteless and unappetizing meal. What had happened? Why was he picked up? So many questions ran though his mind and he had no one to ask.

The night was long and cold on that hard bunk, the sounds of other males and even a few females could be heard from time to time. A cough or sneeze, snoring, even someone must have eaten a bit of cabbage before their night here. Sterling frowned and did his best to get some rest.

The morning came with little fanfare save the rattling of a truncheon on the metal bars. “Wake up now ya lazy sods, breakfast is served for ya candy arses.”

Sterling dragged himself from the bunk to receive his ‘breakfast’ cold tea that was weak and no sugar to even give it flavor, a dry crumpet to go with and a boiled egg.

The male bringing the meal smiled. “Got some eggs today we did, a bit of a treat for yas.”

Sterling nodded politely and took his meal. “Thank you.” No matter what he’d still be polite and considerate, it was just how he was raised.

An hour later passed and they were shackled together in a long line of fifteen. “Best to all walk together, right leg, then left, that way ya don’t get tangled. Keep up or ya get dragged to court.”

“Court?” Sterling almost regretted opening his mouth and speaking that one word as he received a sound thump to the back of his head.

“Aye, court and mind ya mouth.” The male in the lead seemed to be the one with the gas issue as with every few steps he let off a new round of stuttering flatulence. Down a long dark tunnel and up the stairs to where they were made to stand shackled to a rail. One by one they were lead into the courtroom, none coming back the way they had.

When it was Sterling’s turn, the bailiff unlocked the shackle from the rail and led him into the small box where he stood before the judge. The judge looked over the documents before him and shook his head. “Mr. Darkfury, do you have any idea how many souls you are behind?”

Sterling shakes his head. “No sir, I wasn’t aware I was behind any. I had just gone out yesterday and collected four more. I work daily.”

The judge clucked his tongue in disapproval. “It says here you are behind a total of one thousand souls. That is the most I have ever seen in my tenure here on the bench.”

“A… a… a thousand? I assure you there is no way that is possible.” He couldn’t help but stammer. “Where is my contractor? He will tell you that I am not nearly that far behind, surely this is a mistake.”

The judge shook his head and held up the documents. “I have it all right here and now sentence you to a thousand days in debtor’s prison. You may take him away now.” He picked up his gavel and hit the block.

“No, you can’t, I didn’t do it.” Sterling shouted in a desperate attempt to be heard.

The large and menacing looking bailiff dragged Sterling off to a wagon where all of the collectors before him now sat, shackled one by one inside. “Enjoy your holiday.” Sneered the guard as he locked Sterling to his seat.

He looked at the others, many were older males, tired and worn out. Their hay day of collecting had long past. A few were just poor and struggled to keep up with their duties. A woman seemed to look Sterling in the eye for a moment, then away as if she were embarrassed for her fate. None had been dressed nearly as well as he was and as the wagon rattled off down the road they would all be treated the same.

From time to time, Sterling would look out the bars of the wagon as it rolled along. People walking past would stop and point, whispering or jeering at them. Demons, elves, fae, humans, they all seemed to wonder and taunt those being hauled off down the road. The massive draft horse plodded along, its load of misery in tow. It was as if their lives were over and they may never been seen again. Indeed this journey would end not long after the gates of the prison closed, the infirm would die there, yet others would survive and life to go back to life on the outside.

A few of the old men talked, a year sounded to be the average term there, a short trip was six months. How had Sterling managed to be in for a thousand? That would nearly be three years of incarceration for a crime he was sure he didn’t commit.

The ride took hours and it was near dark by the time they arrived at the prison. The fog has started to roll in and it made Sterling shiver, he looked up at the tall stone walls and guard towers. He would learn to live within these walls come hell or high water. He sighed as they were marched into the receiving room. One by one they were given uniforms and boots to wear, then herded off to change and get locked in their cells.

Meals were delivered to them in their cells, if the food at the station was bad, this was worse. Sterling couldn’t tell what it was that he was eating, just that it tasted awful. It resembled a broth of sorts, with cabbage and a tiny lump of gristly beef floating on top. A white thing in there seemed to be a turnip; but again, it was hard to tell in the low light of the cell. The bread was hard and dry, so he dipped it into his soup to soften it up some. He gagged when he bit into something that didn’t taste quite right, but food was food and he had not had anything since his egg and tea. The water he had was stagnant and foul, but tepid, at least it wasn’t hot.

Sterling wanted to cry, but he had heard all sorts of bad things and that would be the last thing you wanted to do. Never show weakness and don’t let them think you are. He set the empty dishes just outside the bars as he was instructed when done eating and sat on his bunk. This would be a very long thousand days.

Ice Demons

Ice Demons are often seen with bluish or whitish skin, eyes that seem foggy and similar in color to their skin, pale hair that is often light blond, white or gray. Their features are harsh and pinched at time, as if they are cold and unfeeling. Typically they thrive in chilly climates, where there is snow or cold a good part of the year. Siberia, Greenland, Alaska, and Scandinavian countries up near the Arctic circle are where these demons live most often. Yet they will venture further south into cool climates such as the UK, Northern Europe and Canada, they stick to coastal regions where they have access to water.
Their power over water and ice is well known among demons and they will be seen bearing a blade of finely honed ice, magically bound and strong as steel. They will use chunks of black ice to scry or see anything that they chose. While this is not a form of mind reading, anything that is said or done while they are watching will be used to their advantage.
Most demons body temperature runs warmer than humans, an ice demon runs much colder. This will vary upon where they live between 80 degrees and 20 degrees. The further northern they dwell where there is snow and ice more often, they have adapted to the colder climates by having a lower body temperature, while those who live further south, like the UK, would be warmer and up around 80 degrees.
They like lavish clothes and will chose colors that seem to accent their skin and hair, blues, grays, with silver threads, yet they can and will chose other colors for variety.

Harvesters or Soul Collectors

Soul Collection
~~~~~~~~~~~~

Demons are created or born by many means. Those created typically have purposes in mind by their creator; those born however have ability or properties as a result of natural recombination properties of the parent(s). One property of a demonform born is that of soul collection, and is a natural ability.

As demons have no souls and souls are eternal, they naturally become something of value to demons, particularly those entites driven by power and suffering. The more evil the psyche and deeds of a soul, the greater the souls' worth to a collector; said soul can be tortured and drained of its vile energies to power greater, more arcane and heinous magicks. Therefore, the collection of souls has become an art and basis of eternal competition between several 'families', all vying for ultimate power in the demonworld.

A demon that is a soul collector has to sign a contract to actually collect souls. Contracts are not to be discussed with others, not even one's mate. Demons operating outside of contract are deemed rogue, and are actively hunted by the stronger contract familes, so as to cut down on competition. The premise behind such contract is one would have to collect X amount of souls in order to fullfill their contract with the Contractor, the Contractor being a more powerful demon. Assumption of said contract permits the collecting demon not only protection from hunting by all contracting families, but also allows the collector to draw on the strength of the family in support of the collectors' efforts to complete their contract. Completion of the contract guarantees the contractee's eternal freedom, although freedom is unusual; typically a demon will continue contracts/contracting for all time, simply because there is little else a soul collecting demon can do that will not conflict with the desires of contracting families--demons are not above destroying the competition.

Collectors
~~~~~~~~
A novice collector would be granted time to gain experience in their field by learning out to determine colors of souls as well as how to capture them for the contract holder. Intermediate collectors would have more strict guidelines and so on and so forth with advanced collectors. Collectors who advance far enough would be granted a special status to bring in those collectors who are in forfit of their contracts. This is sort of a promotion in their world.

Advanced Collectors: 10,000 souls per contract
Journeymen Collectors: 5,000 souls per contract
Novice Collectors: 2,500 souls per contract
Collector in Training: 1000 souls gathered under at least a journeyman collector.

Spells used by collectors.
-Create Portal: This enables them to enter and exit hell. It is not time travel as they can only go into specific time periods. (Ie: 1891)

-Harvest Soul: The actual spell that removes the soul and traps it in a soul orb.

-Soul Test: This is the spell one would use to test and see if their subject has a soul or not. This would only apply if the subject is not on the list that they are collecting from.

Consequences of collection:
Results vary depending on the level of roleplay the 'victim' wishes to engage in:
--death without resurrection
--zombie (partly attached to their soul)
--normal; posessing a soul borrowed by the collecting family pursuant to a family contract to regain their soul
--possessed; while the soul was taken, the body was possesed by a wraith or other disembodied entity. This entity may or (most likely) may not have the possessed body's interest in mind.
--normal; not participating in the soul collection roleplay. The soul is credited to the family but the victim is not required to further participate in soul collection play.
--collected; a soul may participate in the play as a collected soul by the family--this might get a bit boring ;)
--other; a victim may suggest some form of recompense for retaining their soul or paying of a lein against the soul to the Covenant. Use one's imagination!

Target Selection
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Each collectior shall perform research on a person he or she would like to submit for collection. Such research shall consist of at least a look at the profile for the ominious no perma death limitation, or other restrictions that would preclude possession and whatnot, plus observed or recorded vile behavior that would indicate a particularly desirable soul to collect. Actually take some time to make sure there is a RP reason for this collection. Each name should be added to a list for consideration. A random name generator then would be used to select one. Optimally, there should be a SP be present at each actual name drawing, so all interested parties have documentation.

A suggested checklist for collection includes:

1. Does the person have no perma death in RP limits? If the person has no perma death in RP limits, then see how many Covenant members are in favor of approaching said individual. Simple discussion and vote should suffice here.

2. What RP reason is there for the soul's collection?

All information collected shall be compiled into a notecard called The Writ of Collection, detailing why the soul is subject to forfeit and listing the possible options for the victim should soul be "collected". This is a semi-IC document which details the motivation for collection should there be conflict with the victim. Regardless, a collection should not be presented as a fait, but as an opportunity to engage in a different form of RP.

Contractors:
~~~~~~~~~~
A contractor is a demon who holds the contracts of the soul collectors themselves. They can call the collectors to sign a second contract or extention to make sure they are doing the job right. They have already risen through the ranks and have gained enough experience to assign contracts of their own. Further, they have the ability to issue special contracts for collectors deemed in default on their obligations or to eliminate demons declared rogue.

Novice Contractors: Oversees 10 Collectors
Intermediate Contractors: 20 Collectors
Advanced Contractors: 30 Collectors


The Board of Directors:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Overseeing the contractors are thirteen elite contractors known as the Board of Directors. Only the number of members is known. The names of board members and their true motives stand a mystery, but we can assume that souls collected are used in some way for rituals and power plays beyond mortal comprehension.

Songcrafter Demons

They craft the songs of other demon's glory, singing praises solo or in groups. But do not forget music can be a powerful too and they can use it as a weapon as well. Their knowledge of other demons is extensive and unsurpassed, they know more about the other races than the other races care to admit. This leads to a very lonely existence as they can't speak of any information outside of their own world. To do so would be considered treason and they would be put to death.
Intimacy with outsiders is discouraged and with humans it is strictly forbidden. Any human found having intimate relations with a Songcrafter would be put to death and the demon would have his or her vocal cords ripped out forcefully.

Not all songcrafters will go on to craft songs, many are indeed utter failures at the craft. These will often go on to do more menial work as scribes, documenting mating marks of royals and other nobles or general record keeping.