Soulcatcher Character Update

[Soulcatcher]

I am posting this thread to gain input on a character that I am developing for 5th Edition Hero. The characters name is Soulcatcher and she is a Metaform character. This is a character concept that I have been developing over three different editions of Champions/Hero, 3rd, 4th and now 5th.

The basic idea of the character is that she is able to absorb the lifeforce of a being/entity at or shortly after death. Once she has absorbed a being/entity she is eventually able to assume the form that was absorbed. The new form is, in actual fact, the entirety of the form that was absorbed, including the mind/body/powers/character limitations of that form. In essence that form emerges and replaces the original base character and vice versa. You end up having multiple beings existing within the same construct.

These beings can and do communicate with each other at any time because all the forms are passengers in the mind of the form that is currently active. The result is that the character can sometimes have conversations with itself. The will of Soulcatcher is predominant in the character.

I will be making an extensive character in terms of complexity and depth. I would appreciate any suggestions that members of the Board have about any aspect of the character design including even suggestions about background, appearance, literally any aspect of the character. You could even post suggestions about alterations or additions to the character background story. I am willing to contemplate improvements to everything about the character design.

I will shortly be posting the first piece of the character design that I have developed. I wish to thank you ahead for any input that you may make.

[Soulcatcher]

The first part of the character that I am posting is the background to one of the characters absorbed by Soulcatcher.

Johnathon Colt Background:


The Early Years:


Johnathon Colt was born on a sunny day at Camp Lejeune, North Carolina, Tuesday, April 4,1976, to Jeremy Colt, a US Marine Captain, and his wife, Martha Colt, a homemaker. Johnathon, who friends called Johnny, grew up in the military lifestyle. He grew up fast in that environment and respected his father tremendously, especially for the work that he did and the responsibility he had defending the United States. His father was his own personal hero. Not every kid had that.

Johnny was very athletic and an excellent student. His love, though, was baseball. He played baseball at every opportunity that he could. He was the star athlete at High School. Girls were not far behind baseball, although the girls tended to complain, eventually, that they couldn’t compete with the diamond. Some thought they could but they found out otherwise. Still, Johnny was ever polite with the girls and they were always around.

Not Just Another Saturday:

Johnny enjoyed living in Hawaii the most. It was such a blast until that fateful day in November. The date was Saturday, November 13, 1993. It was another bright sunny day that would forever be burned in his consciousness, a day that would scar him for the rest of his life…


…It was a Saturday, a glorious Saturday. Johnny woke up early to get his chores out of the way. The sooner drudgery got done, the sooner he could meet his friends and get in some baseball. Karen would be calling too, but that could wait, at least for a little while, but not too long. Karen O’Brien was a redheaded lass that he felt much stronger about, maybe even love. For the first time in his life baseball was coming in second place. He wasn’t sure when it happened, just that it had. Surprise of surprises.

His mother was up doing her usual Saturday morning routine, baking. The smell wafted through the house and it was, oh, so delicious. He thought that, perhaps, he would need to do a reconnaissance to the kitchen before he left, to get supplies. Mom’s baking usually went well with almost anything…

…He double-checked everything: ball, glove, bat, can of orange juice and last, but not least, a good supply of fresh-baked cookies. She’d notice them missing eventually but not before he could get away. He reached for the doorknob and turned it.

As he opened the door, time began to slow down. He saw the man standing there, a surprised look on his face, hand reaching for the doorbell. Then it registered; the man was his fathers’ best friend, Colonel Jack Strait. Then Johnny saw his eyes, his watery eyes. It was all he could see and all he would need to see, to know the awful truth.

The world closed in around him and darkness shadowed the sun. He did not see the envelope in Jacks’ hand but he didn’t need to. Suddenly, from far away he heard a voice scream. He wasn’t sure whose voice it was although it did sound familiar. In the far distance, he heard a crash…


They never found Jeremy Colts’ body. All Johnny and Martha had was an American flag, a medal and memories that were such sweet sorrow now. The Marine Corps would not or could not tell Johnny what had happened to his father. The only thing they would say was that it was a top-secret mission and that his father died a hero.

Changing Priorities:

Johnny took it hard. Things fell apart. Johnny kept thinking about his father, if only he could have seen him one more time, if only he could have talked to him one more time. There was so much they would miss together that it ripped a hole in his heart and soul. Somehow, the not knowing became harder than the death itself. Johnny took a long time to come to terms with his grief, along the way his relationship with Karen became another casualty of an unknown war.

A new determination grew out of the depths of his despair. He had finally come to a decision. He would follow in his fathers’ footsteps. Martha was not happy with his choice having lost her true love, Jeremy. In the end, she supported Johnny’s decision. It’s what Jeremy would have wanted. When Johnny turned 18, he joined the Navy and gave up on his dream of a baseball career, a dream that died with the loss of his father. No longer would they play catch again.

Naval Career:

Johnny’s career in the Navy took an unexpected turn when he was invited to join Naval Intelligence at Annapolis. His mental aptitude had quite impressed his instructors. Johnny excelled in Intelligence and rose quickly up the ranks. As a Naval Intelligence Officer he ran across some unusual cases that peeked his curiosity. He found reports involving strange and unexplained circumstances. For some reason, he could not let go of those cases. It was during such an investigation that the next seminal event of his life occurred.


… The report said a Navy Seal Team was missing. No one knew what had happened to the team. No one believed anything could have happened to that team, they were the best. They had been on a training mission to assault an “enemy” location on a small, uninhabited pacific atoll. The mission had been going well, then, in the middle of monitored communications, all contact with the team was abruptly cut. A search was performed on the island. There was no sign of the team. It was as if they had simply vanished off the face of the Earth. The Navy chose to bury the incident and the men but Johnny couldn’t and wouldn’t, so now he found himself on that very same atoll reading the final incident report.

He was alone. He didn’t mind, sometimes it was better that way. Others thought he was on a fool’s mission. Maybe he was. He found the last reported position of the missing team while he thought of his father. Others should not have to go through what he had. “No one will be left behind,”is what the military kept saying. His father was left behind. If at all possible, he would bring the team home.

He scanned the area, nothing unusual. (Where could they have gone? What could have happened to them?) thought Johnny. He made a decision to walk towards an immense boulder based upon a feeling, a hunch he had. Where that hunch came from he wasn’t sure. He got these hunches and feelings sometimes and they always seemed to work out. He wasn’t sure why but he had begun to put faith in them.

As he cautiously walked towards the moss-covered boulder, it became more than just a feeling, it became a tingling sensation. The tingling intensified and spread from his fingertips to engulf his entire body. When he reached the massive boulder, placed there by some storm a long time ago, the tingling reached his eyes and he abruptly saw a glow of coruscating, blue light just before him from a dark line down the center of the boulder.

Johnny knew it was a doorway and how he knew, he didn’t have a clue. He just knew it. Pulling out his pistol, he reached out his hand…


The final report, on the Ashira Atoll incident, chronicled how Marine Lieutenant Johnathon Colt had recovered the missing Seal Team from what could only be speculated as some type of rip in the space-time continuum or gateway to another dimension. The team had suffered from their ordeal but would recover. Lt. Colt would get a medal. It was considered a fortunate accident that Lt. Colt was able to stumble across the rip or gate and recover the team, also highly improbable. Lt. Colt and the Ashira Atoll would both require more scrutiny. The atoll became a restricted area. Lt. Colt was assigned a permanent partner. According to protocol, a copy of this report was forwarded to Aegis.

Johnny’s career in the military continued to progress until he starting delving too deeply into cases that crossed into the strange and unusual. He began to undertake too many unauthorized missions that, despite any success he may have achieved, caused him to get into hot water, continually. Eventually, the bureaucracy of the Navy removed Lt. Colt from the investigative branch of Naval Intelligence. Johnny continued to perform his duties as required by the Navy but his heart was no longer in it. A world beyond the ken of man had grabbed a hold of his mind and imagination and would not let go. In 2002, Johnny Colt retired his commission in the Navy.

Self Discovery:

He started a journey of self-discovery and came to the realization, while in Tibet, that he had a talent in the mysterious arcane arts. He had finally discovered that, on the Ashira Atoll, he had sensed the magical essence of the gateway that the Seal Team had accidentally stumbled through and had actually manipulated the forces of magic to rescue them. For a year, he diligently studied with the monks learning to harness the powers of the inner self. As he delved into the mysteries of the world beyond the senses, he began to live a dream. More and more often, this dream would trouble his sleep…


…It was happening all over again. He was plummeting in utter blackness; the suffocating wind was whipping by his face carrying the stench of death. Darkness was clawing at his chest trying to rip out his heart. He reached out to grab something, anything, but there was nothing. Panic began to well up. Suddenly, there was a beautiful, lilting voice reaching down into the depths of his soul. “ Come to us Johnny. Come to us. We can provide you with salvation. You haven’t fulfilled your destiny yet. Come to us.” The voice calmed his panic, his fear. The lightness and warmth of its sounds reached out to him and caressed his spirit, gathering him in…He woke in a cold sweat. “Not again,”he muttered…


Somehow, he felt time was running out. It felt like a darkened train was barreling around the curve of the tracks in the pitch of night, horns blasting, and still he couldn’t see it, but he could feel the thunder on the tracks as he stood on them. He resolved to return to America and face whatever wicked was coming his way on home turf. It was always best to fight in your own ballpark. He said his farewells to the monks of the temple, fearing he would never be able to return to finish his studies…


"I have full confidence that you shall return to us one day. You are but a caterpillar striving to become the butterfly. The journey is winding, yet wondrous", whispered Master Tao as Johnny turned to leave. (What kind of butterfly?) thought Johnny, (Will I even recognize myself?)…

Back in the USA:

Upon Johnny’s return to the States, he decided to open a private investigation agency specializing in the strange and the unusual. The city he set up practice in was Boston due to the apparent high level of interesting activity in the New England area. Business was slow to start. At the beginning, Johnny would take normal cases too, to pay the bills. He also continued his research into the arcane arts on his own, gradually enhancing his knowledge and power.

Within a couple of months, a government agency, Aegis, hired Johnny on a retainer, a nice way to keep an eye on a subject of interest. The Mystics of Earth started pushing a lot of business Johnny’s way as well. Things were finally taking off in Johnny’s new career and he was beginning to make a reputation as someone who could get things done or resolved, whether an investigation, protection, retrieval or courier job.

The dreams also continued, occurring more frequently and intensely. Johnny couldn’t shake the feeling that the forces of darkness were gathering, that time was growing short. Nothing he did or learned could assuage the growing cold grip of fear in his gut that something bad was going to happen…

Destiny:

… (Dammit! The package was a girl with some type of metal collar, probably controlling her,) thought Johnny as he quickly analyzed the fluid tactical situation. Two of the four opponents were down already in his teams’ sudden strike to retrieve the ‘package,’ as instructed. This job would soon be over.

Then a squealing noise brought Johnny’s head around in a quick snap. The back door of the truck, at the end of the dimly lit alley, was swinging open to reveal the presence of a .50 caliber machinegun. Time slowed down. Johnny started to pull around his Desert Eagle pistol as the machinegun swiveled in its mount seeking its target. The race was on. As the machinegun settled on its target, Johnny’s mind screamed, (Not the girl!)

There was only one thing Johnny could do. He leaped towards the girl with the beautiful, long black hair who stood meekly. His arm twisted, trying to gain a bead on the machinegunner at the same instant. The machinegun began to spit death and destruction down the alleyway. As the bullets came screaming, Johnny pressed the trigger and fired. In the middle of the alleyway, death passed each other like ships in the night carried on the winds of doom. Darkness reached towards the unsuspecting girl but found itself tearing into the flesh of another.

It was happening all over again, but this time it was not a dream. He was plummeting in utter blackness, the suffocating wind was whipping by his face carrying the stench of death. Darkness was clawing at his chest trying to rip out his heart. He reached out to grab something, anything, but there was nothing. Panic began to well up. (Where was the voice? Where was the voice? It had to be there. It had to!), Johnny thought as he panicked. As he continued to plummet towards the inky blackness that waited to hungrily embrace him, despair filled the deepest reaches of his mind…

[Soulcatcher]

There was a problem with the second post causing part of it to be italicized and missing. I have now corrected for the problem. Sorry about that.

[Soulcatcher]

I really wouldn't mind any input.

[Soulcatcher]

Here is another character background for a form absorbed by Soulcatcher. Even if you have no input, I would be interested in any feedback.

Doomsday Background

The Nine:

One Millennia ago…


… The last one entered the barely lit chamber hewn from pure black obsidian and strode quickly carrying a large oaken staff with a gleaming ruby at the head. He stopped in the place reserved for him among the Nine in the circle. His raspy voice echoed high into the upper reaches of the chamber, “The Nine have finally gathered to fulfill the purpose for which we have labored so long and hard, to seal the final enchantment into our greatest creation!”

His staff, held by a gnarled hand, slammed down hard on the obsidian chamber floor, radiated ribbons of pure light to the far reaches of the chamber, its sound reverberated high above in the rough-hewn chamber. The light illuminated all of the robed and hooded figures of the Nine as well as a tenth figure, male, all black, except for a pale red loincloth, standing silently in the center of the chamber, in the center of the Nine. The raspy voice continued, “ We shall now begin the thirteenth and final enchantment.”

The voices of all nine rose in unison to chant the verse of the spell in a long dead language not heard of since time immemorial. Tendrils of mystical red energy, the color of blood, slowly emerged from cowls of the nine. The chanting continued, as the red tendrils snaked their way from figure to figure. Never once did the tendrils approach the lone, silent tenth figure. The chanting continued for hours and, as it did so, a humming vibration began in the obsidian surrounding the Nine and the one. The humming would rise and fall in cadence with the voices of the Nine, in a language not meant for human ears.

Finally, with belabored breath, the last eerie chorus was sung and, as arms were raised on high, a vortex of writhing multi-hued mystical energies formed around the lone still and silent figure. When the chanting ended, the vortex swirled into the single figure to be illuminated solely in the eyes and then was no more. The Nine all sagged from the enormous effort of this last and most powerful enchantment. “It is done”, sighed the raspy voice.

“Only one more small step for me to take”, whispered a female voice from within a cowl borne by a lithe form.

“Yes, but be quick about it. Already, I can feel the stirrings of curiosity in the Old Ones from the ancient spell that we have tapped”, interjected a deep voice from the figure to the right of the latter.

The cowled one, with the lithe figure, looked at his face and could discern, deep within the darkness they all craved, his six glowing eyes. She sauntered up to the lone figure in the center, purred and whispered, “Come my pretty, it is time for you to begin your journey.” She reached up to touch the figures pure and unblemished black face and, as she did so, the robes slid down her arm to reveal her reddish scaled and clawed hand. Both of their figures shimmered and vanished.

Slowly, silently the others shuffled out of the chamber till there were two left. The last one spoke, in a musical voice, to the other with the oaken staff, “Is there any hope, any realistic hope that what we have done will work?”

“Always the pessimist, Turshani”, the raspy voice replied.

“Always the realist.”

“There is always hope if we are right. So much can go wrong but not yet. Not yet…”

The Pyramid:

… Both shapes shimmered into existence on a plane of misty, grayness. Floating before them, with a slight counter-clockwise spin was a pyramid of green, crystalline blocks with a single, black block shaped like a door. She stepped, lightly, unto the landing in front of the black onyx door. “Come my pretty.”

The other figure followed her unto the platform. She passed her blood red clawed hand in front of the black onyx block and it began to slide aside with an audible scraping sound intensely irritating to the ear. She winced. As she stepped into the pyramid, followed by the silent figure, the crystal blocks lining the corridor within lit up with an ambient green glow.

They stepped silently through the tunnel until they reached the marble-like floor of the central chamber. Her gaze scanned the pyramidal interior and its now familiar arcane symbols with admiration. Her work was the masterpiece of a lifetime. None could match its intricacy and form. It would be perfect for the thousand years that it would be needed.

She pointed to the raised green crystalline throne in the center of the chamber. The silent figure stepped up unto the dais. As he sat down, his eyes began to glow the same color as the multi-hued mystical vortex. The arcane symbols carved into the green, crystalline blocks responded and, also, began to glow in the same colors.

“Ah, it is perfect my pretty. You are perfect.” As she admired, with a lick of her lips, the Adonis form in front of her, she draped herself on him. Her lithe body moved and writhed against his black skin. Her clawed hands caressed the features of his face. “I so wish that we had more time, my pretty, but I can’t dawdle here any longer. You wouldn’t satisfy me for a thousand years, no matter how perfect you are.” She gave him one last intimate caress and a lick of her red serpentine tongue. “ Good-bye, my pretty, enjoy your time in Limbo. Be sure to say hello for me.” She blew a kiss towards his eerily unmoving form.

With that, she sauntered out of the pyramid. She shimmered with a last look at the pyramid, the onyx door having already been replaced by green, crystalline blocks…

The Wait of a Thousand Years:

…The figure sat, never moving, never flinching and never even breathing. Anyone observing him would believe that perhaps he was just a statue. He wore a short, pale red loincloth, the only color present to offset his vistas of darkness. His skin was a very dark black like the gap between the stars. The form was perfectly shaped and muscular with all things darker than the deepest darkness. The limbs are smooth with rippling muscles, no blemishes, no scars and no imperfections at all. The eyes are pure midnight. They neither shift nor blink providing what appears to be a vista of darkness. There is no hair at all. Perfect ebony best describes his appearance. Time moved forward inexorably…


…He sensed things from time to time, testing the pyramid. Some tried scanning the pyramid. When some tried teleporting in, one particular group of arcane symbols would briefly glow intensely and those beings were never seen again. Some tried smashing open the pyramid. Some tried to use energy beams of various sorts. No matter what was attempted by the creatures or travelers of this dull, gray, misty plane, all failed. Time moved forward inexorably. The Battle of Hastings was fought. He continued to wait. Columbus discovered the New World. He still sat silently. The Atomic Bomb was dropped on Hiroshima. He observed less and less interest in the pyramid…

Unity:

…He sensed the young woman approach the pyramid cautiously, then hesitate. Something else was coming in fast. It veered towards the woman and slammed into something that had appeared, shrugged itself and then limped off. The woman began to approach again. When she stepped upon the landing, a humming sound began to build in the central chamber. Recognition dawned in his mind; the next stage in the journey was about to begin. The thousand years wait was finally at an end.

He could feel the black, onyx door materialize and begin the slow process of opening. The ambient lighting grew in intensity throughout the complex as the One entered the outer tunnel. The wait would not be long now. The One finally entered the central chamber, looked at him, then peered at the glowing arcane symbols on the interior. The One moved over and touched a symbol, then peered back at him. Finally, the One began to approach him.

Anticipation was being felt for the first time in his existence, he wondered at it. The One was now standing right in front of him. In a fluid motion, he quickly rose up and towered over the One. His perfect ebony arm shot out towards the One as shock was mirrored in the eyes of the One. (Unity) was his final thought…

[Soulcatcher]

Here is another bacground to another character that is absorbed by Soulcatcher:


Orb of Daedelous Background

Ten Millennia Ago…

Uncertainty:

…“The prophecy is clear!” the man spoke in a heated voice.

“I have spent years on the Prophecies of Y’gresh Al’zwarsensui without, at all, coming to a clear understanding of what they represent,” sighed Daedelous.

“ ‘The Shadowed One shall engulf all that she embraces’ obviously means that she is the Destructor of Worlds as mentioned earlier!”

“Prophecies are both complex and subtle. The meanings that you attribute to one area will affect the meanings in another, you must understand that. If you change the original meanings, you change the meanings in other areas, as well. There is no way to be absolutely certain of the meanings of these prophecies.” (This is getting no where as usual), thought Daedelous.

“But the danger is clear! We must do something or we may all perish!” spoke Juresh in a rising voice.

Daedelous turned away from the First Minister certain that Juresh had just enough intellect to be dangerous where these prophecies were concerned…

Revelations:

Daedelous knew that the Prophecies of Y’gresh Al’zwarsensui were of vital importance because they had proven so in the past. Yet, many misconstrued the ultimate meanings of these prophecies and often inflicted more damage than they had tried to prevent. The prophecies were a double-edged sword and the ones involving the Shadowed One were more so. The prophecies concerning the Destructor of Worlds were apocalyptic in nature, the End of Times. How the Shadowed One interacted with the Destructor of Worlds passages was unclear at best, entirely cryptic at worst.

One thing he could be sure of was where the prophecy would be played out; an inconsequential planet called Earth. Nothing significant there, only some very primitive culture. He also had a clue to the locale of the Shadowed One, ‘the shadowed one shall be passed on to the tazs at the strike of nine’, whatever that means. The nature of the Tazs was most alarming in that it was a Cambion, part-devil part human, but what type of Cambion?

The strangest part of the prophecies, though, was that he was named in it. No one knew of this secret that he held closest of all. In an obscure passage, located well outside the bounds of the Destructor of Worlds chapters, Daedelous had discovered, ‘He, who swam the stars with trigorsen, would come full circle with destiny enhanced and weave the fabric of the ancient zealous sun till the precipice is reached under the shadow of the one moon.’ Trigorsen was the secret name of a childhood friend who had drowned on an outing with him while at Star Lake. The prophecies were speaking to him directly. For anyone else to discover his part in the prophecy would surely mean his doom.

It's Alive!

… (The Orb is finally complete after six long years), thought Daedelous, (and at great sacrifice.) He turned and looked at the picture of him and his dear friend of long years, Ctharr. “If only I could have taken your place, my…friend. If only…if only.” He bowed his head and slowly rubbed his eyes to wipe the tears away. “If only…” He walked slowly to the grayish Orb with marvel mixed in with grief.

Only one step left, activation. He began to speak the activation codes, “Trigorsen, Daedelous, Ctharr, zero, zero, seven, Tazs, zero, one, activate, activate.” Suddenly, a chill draped the underground chamber, hidden deep beneath his laboratory, and frost began to form near the Orb. A brief pulse of luminous energy spread away from the Orb. When the energy pulse collapsed back into the perfect sphere, the Orb turned an azure blue and lightening began to arc within it to be matched by red plasma roiling on the exterior surface.

“You have fulfilled your part of the prophecy Daedelous.” The voice emanated from the Orb accompanied by images of Daedelous, the prophecies, Ctharr and the Orb reflected upon the surface of the sphere. “ You have created the Orb of Daedelous, as spoken of in prophecy.”

“Yes, but what have I really done?” inquired Daedelous, warily
“You have given the universe a choice.”

“What do you mean by a choice?”

“You have given opportunity to Destiny. The Prophecies of Y’gresh Al’zwarsensu, like all prophecies are shrouded in semantics, hyperbole and metaphor because truth is not absolute, probabilities are not finite. The threads of prophecy are wound tight but can be cut by free will. You have given free will to the Destructor of Worlds.”

“Free will to do what, destroy?” responded Daedelous in apprehension.

“Emotion veils your mind. You have given her a choice where none was had before. Sometimes people believe that they act according to free will when, in fact, the choices were made long ago. I am choice!” declared the Orb.

“But how are you choice?”

“You chose to create me,”replied the Orb.

“That was only because prophecy told me to.”

“You still had the choice not to create me. Juresh would not have made your choice.”

“That’s only because he is an ignorant fool!”

“Exactly. You have made an intelligent choice at great personal risk and that is the key. I provide the Destructor the opportunity of choice to embrace the dark or the light, when all was in the shadow of the abyss before.”…

Parting:

… Daedelous looked at the Orb with disbelief mirrored in his eyes, “How can you do all that you say? I did not make you that powerful.”

“ You have no idea what you have truly created, my old friend. What you think you have done is to barely scratch the surface of the reality of what you have truly created. Do you think you were all alone in the matter of my creation? There are mysteries in the universe beyond your perception or even conception. However, the mysteries of the universe sometimes need to remain mysterious.”

“ Will we ever meet again,” mumbled Daedelous, knowing that the moment of leaving was to be soon upon them and he would never see or speak to what had become of his friend.

“ I do not think so. The journey is far in both distance and time. I will never forget you and what you have done and neither will others, far into the future, for good or ill,” said the Orbs voice in a surprisingly melancholy tone.

The door chime reverberated with its elegant tones throughout the residence. Daedelous spun and began to advance towards the carved oak door, while checking the monitor. “ The Faceless Man is here. Are you sure that you can trust him?”

“He is the only one I can trust to do what I need. Do not, again, ask me to explain how I know this. Some things must remain silent.”

Daedelous reached the door panel and inputted the security codes to deactivate his defense system…

Journey through Time:

The mountains would be the perfect location to await the Destructor of Worlds. Not many would bother him there, even if they could find him, which they likely couldn’t. From here, he would be able to monitor the world as it changed on its journey through the cosmos.

The Orb of Daedelous peered into the minds of the Paleoindians who came and spread upon the land, who were hunter-gatherers, and provided what little aid and comfort that he could, without disturbing destiny. Some would call him the Great Spirit, but it was not a mantle he would choose to wear considering the pain, suffering and loss that this people would endure. He could only try to prepare them, as inadequate as it was for their inevitable fate. He also gingerly probed the rest of this world, called Earth, to verify that the tapestry of prophecy remained true and to observe the Enemy.

Time proceeded on its journey as well. Empires rose and fell. Good and evil played with the fates of man. Sorrow and joy were constant companions as was day and night, light and dark, yet still the Orb of Daedelous waited and pondered. The Roman Empire was finally born, the most pivotal moment in the history of this world. All the threads of the future were still intact. Even in death, the Empire served destiny, just as Ctharr of the Xrix did. One reality died and another was born. Even in death, the Roman Empire, now called the Byzantine Empire, became the bulwark of Europe against the rising tide of Islam. So little did the Europeans help Byzantine, yet so much did they owe. What would be owed to Daedelous?

As the Orb contemplated his future death and everlasting life or not, he wondered at the costs and consequences of all who would be involved including the Shadowed One, the Seeker, the Destructor of Worlds, the Holy Spirit, the Innocent One, the Twice Dead Man, the Silent Death…



… The world has passed into the Dark Ages, finally. The Orb considered their small minds, that they would think this to be the Dark Ages, when something so much darker and deadlier awaited them in the fullness of time, just a blink in the eye of the Universe. He wondered at fate and choice, as they shall intertwine to determine existence and non-existence…



…The Paleoindians now the Iroquois, among other tribes, have finally succumbed to the forces of change that ravage the world and, yet, not all is lost for them. Still, the Orb of Daedelous felt for their loss and the little that he could do for them or any of the tribes. To do more would only alert the Enemy and risk all. He silently vowed to give their descendants the chance that they never had to avert destruction…



…With the world at war, the sign of the Enemy grows stronger. The time draws near for the final step, but at least Sanctuary is prepared. The Orb waits and contemplates as all the strands of fate come together. A wait of ten millennia is well nigh completed. Time has little meaning for the Orb, who perceives future, present and past as interchangeable elements of the space-time continuum. All that truly matters is the tapestry of fate and prophecy being maintained till the moment of decision…

Monsters are Real:

…The foghorn blew yet again and echoed through the cobblestone courtyard of the darkened Victorian-style mansion. The sea breeze, which fingered its way through the giant willow trees, swayed the branches through the mist and creating small eddies of fog as another scream, of blood curdling terror, echoed through the night. A loud snap and peace settled on a night so still with neither bird nor cricket making a sound.

The sounds of quickened footsteps echoed through the courtyard. A shadowed form darted towards the well at the center. As the shadow reached the lip of the well, a loud explosion could be heard shaking the entire mansion, accompanied by the shattering and crashing of many windows, followed by an inhuman roar of anguish. The shadowed form turned toward the mansion revealing, in the hazy moonlight, the tearstreaked face of a young girl in her teens, “Father.”

A light, as bright as the sun, cut beams through the murky night, illuminating her and the basket that she carried in her hands. Another roar of agony is ripped into the night from inside the mansion. She turned back to the well and gingerly placed the basket on the edge. As her hand reached into the basket, she lowered her head and whispered, “Quiet, little one. This night of all nights, you must be quiet.”

There was a terrible scream from within the mansion that was suddenly silenced with a mighty roar. She turned at the sound with a forlorn look of fear. She knew, in her heart, that her time was almost over. She turned back and had one final look, in the shrouded moonlight, at the tiny infant girl in the basket. “Good-bye.” She picked up the basket and then dropped it into the well with a splash.

She took a quick look around the courtyard and began to run towards the front gate. At that moment a huge explosion tore away the carved doors to the mansion, silhouetted within the foyer was the huge gruesome, blood-dripping form of the chaos beast. The girl was almost knocked over by the shards of the disintegrated door but she kept her balance and sprinted towards the gate.

The chaos beast saw her and let out a roar. Despite the large gaping wound on its right side oozing greenish-yellow puss, the chaos beast moved with unnatural speed to intercept the fleeing girl. It reached forth with its writhing, barbed tentacles, grabbed the girl and lifted her off the ground. She screamed. Quickly, the beast tore her body asunder with a spray of reddish blood. It roared in pleasure as her screams of terror were silenced.

Her head, frozen in a mask of fear, dripping blood, arced towards the well and fell in with a sickening thud and then a splash, while her body crumpled against the side of the mansion, covering everything in a geyser of blood. From within the well came a babes startled cry.

The chaos beast slowly turned towards the well while extending its deformed ears. {You heard nothing. They are all dead. No one is left. You heard nothing. They are all dead. No one is left} penetrated a voice into the intelligent mind of the chaos beast. The chaos beast hesitated, then turned slowly back to the mansion disappointed that it had not found its intended target. (The Lords would be displeased.), it thought.

When the Chaos Beast and its other monstrous minions had vanished, the Orb of Daedelous, all black and silent, drifted down into the well to check on the infant. The Orb first noticed the face of terror floating beside the basket. It was a shame that he could do nothing for the girl. His intervention had to be precise and oh so slight, lest the Enemy discover his involvement. He wondered at the regrets that such a long existence would weigh on his soul.

The infant lying in the basket, covered in some blood and water, stared at his approach with wide eyes. As the Orb hovered above the baby, it gurgled happily and reached upwards.

The Orb whispered into the murky silence,“It is not time to play, yet, little one. You will have time for that and much else later. What matters, is that you are safe. I must go, for now, but we will meet again. Sleep.” The Orb then put the child to sleep with a suggestion spell.

(The tapestry remains intact, so far, and the police will find her in the morning. All is as it must be), contemplated the Orb, in satisfaction tinged with sorrow, as it vanished into the cool shroud of mist under the ghostly moon overhead…

Remembering:

…The threads of prophecy were finally being drawn together towards the nexus point, where the fate of not only this world, but also many others, would be decided. Daedelous would have been astonished and proud at what he had wrought. Still, the Orb felt a deep sense of loss at knowing that his friend and all that he had known were washed away in the sands of time. Was it worth it? The answer was still yes but would it always be so? He did not know the answer to that question, despite all the knowledge that he possessed. Wherever the tapestry of fate led him, he would do his duty, of that he was sure…

The End of the Beginning, the Beginning of the End:

The infant had grown up, in more ways than one. She had endured a journey few could imagine and even fewer, if any, survive. She had withstood much pain and anguish that had forged her into a person of great resilience and cunning, enough to best those who held greater power than she.

Only love was a power that she was unprepared for, incapable of besting and vulnerable to. In this, the Orb knew he could not help. It was the necessary last step. The seed born of its majesty or pain would bare the fruit that would become known as the Destructor of Worlds. On a dark and stormy night in June, the Destructor of Worlds was born with a tiny cry. The end of the beginning and the beginning of the end had come.

Choice:

…She was coming closer with every minute that passed. The mind probe had worked, as the Orb knew it would. It was a difficult climb up into the Appalachian Mountains to where he was but she was determined. She was resourceful and had so much wisdom for one so young. She was her mothers’ daughter, though she would vehemently disagree with that conclusion.

Ten millennia were coming to an end as if the journey had just begun. Thoughts began to drift back to Daedelous and the life he had had before as Ctharr. He wondered what had happened to Daedelous after he had left on his journey. They had had such times, the two of them. Things were going to change once again. The life he would have now would be like none that had ever existed before. She was almost to the entrance to Sanctuary.

The waterfall did not deter her at all. She cautiously worked her way to the cave entrance behind it. She had learned her survival skills well. This was a tricky path; one misstep and you could tumble to the rocks below. She finally made it to the end of the path. To the uninformed eye, it was just a gray rock wall like any other in this section of the mountains. To her…ah, she has already penetrated the gateway, impressive!

Now she has stopped, undoubtedly surprised by the vista that has greeted her. She has found herself not where she expected. She has decided to turn around and examine the portal more carefully, having learned that she had not spent the necessary time examining the magic before stepping through, the folly of youth. Her mother would not have made that mistake having already learned that lesson more than once. Finally, she turned around, ready to uncloak what has drawn her to this place, so far from her world.

She moved steadily towards the only structure on this plane of existence. He could sense her carefully probing ahead to discover any more surprises, there would be none but him and that she would not be prepared for, or would she? The Orb observed her enter the building carefully with mystical defenses fully active. It would not matter, she could not defend against him, he was confident.

He considered the ethics and necessity of what he was about to do to her, the lack of choice for her to give her choice. Her life would, forever more, not be her own. She would become a monster in the eyes of some, perhaps even herself. That she would survive the process was not certain, that she had to, was. The sacrifices made of others are sometimes justified and sometimes not, it is often dependent on your perspective. Sometimes evil must be done to fight evil. Would she understand?

It was almost time. She had just reached the entranceway to the central chamber and found it blocked by a mystical energy barrier. She began to hurl successive mystical probes to uncover the root of the beacon luring her here. (No reason to postpone the rendezvous further, best to keep her off balance,) thought the Orb with trepidation for the future, both immediate and far. The barrier of cerulean opaque energy, between them, dissipated.

“Greetings Tasha, welcome to Sanctuary,” announced the Orb.

“Who are you and why am I here?” retorted Tasha warily, eyes shifted continually, keen for any peril. She shivered as she proceeded to advance towards the Orb, carefully, across the frost-laden floor.

“I am the Orb of Daedelous, and you are here to embrace destiny.”

“ Destiny?” She swirled her head, and her long black hair cascaded around her shoulders. “ What is happening to me?” Her breath became heavy and ragged, her eyes dilated as the sensations began to build in her body, irresistible sensations. “Have you…done…something to me?”

The Orb knew exactly what she was feeling, for he felt the same powerful forces building within. “We are…made for each…other. Don’t…resist.” The Orb began to spin and gyrate at ever increasing velocities, with bursts of yellow luminescence streaking outwards. Each burst that struck her staggered her.

She struggled to find the words as she stumbled forwards, “What…what…why?”

Only one word could escape him before they made contact, “Choice.”

As they touched, confusion and fear turned to wonder in Tashas’ eyes followed by darkness. At that precise moment, students at the Adirondack Community College in North Hudsons Fall, New York, detected a minor quake measuring 3.4 on the Richter scale in the upper reaches of the Appalachian Mountains.

[Soulcatcher]

I am not ready with another character background just yet, so here is header information:


Soulcatcher Header Information:


Shadowyn:

Real Name: Tasha Arissa Ziex Shatospon
Player Name: Michael Legard
Concept: Super Mage/Metaform
Nationality/Race: Canadian/Human
Hair/Eye Color: Black/ 1 Red & 1 Black
Place of Birth: Town of Markham
Height/Mass: 1.68m/56.70kg
Date of Birth: June 6, 1986


Orb of Daedelous:

Real Name: Orb of Daedelous
Player Name: Michael Legard
Concept: Mentalist/Base
Nationality/Race: Ancient Artifact
Hair/Eye Color: N/A
Place of Birth: Proteus III
Height/Mass: 1m sphere/ 200kg
Date of Creation: 10,000 years ago


Ctharr of the Xrix:

Real Name: Ctharr Crtaskt Krtynol
Player Name: Michael Legard
Concept: Energy Blaster
Nationality/Race: Hasratzi/Xrixian
Hair/Eye Color: Dark Green, Brown and Yellow/ Yellow
Place of Birth: Mrtalsa IV
Height/Mass: 3m/ 800kg
Date of Birth: 10,050 years ago


Morg:

Real Name: Morg
Player Name: Michael Legard
Concept: Base AI
Nationality/Race: Spirit Entity
Hair/Eye Color: N/A /Red
Place of Creation: Proteus III
Height/Mass: 2m/ insubstantial-negligible
Date of Creation: 10,000 years ago


Doomsday:

Real Name: Unknown
Player Name: Michael Legard
Concept: Brick
Nationality/Race: Unknown
Hair/Eye Color: Black
Height/Mass: 2m/ 400,000kg
Date of Creation: 1,000 years ago


Johnathon Colt:

Real Name: Johnathon Colt
Player Name: Michael Legard
Concept: Martial Artist/Weapon Master
Nationality/Race: American/Human
Hair/Eye Color: Black/Blue
Height/Mass: 1.93m/89kg
Date of Birth: April 4,1976


Tashriel:

Real Name: Tasha Arissa Ziex Shatospon
Player Name: Michael Legard
Concept: Brick
Nationality/Race: Devil
Hair/Eye Color: Black/ 1 Red, 1 Black
Height/ Mass: 1.98m/800kg
Date of Birth: June 6,1986


Sir Garen de Valmont:

Real Name: Sir Garen de Valmont
Player Name: Michael Legard
Concept: Weapon Master
Nationality/Race: English/Human
Hair/Eye Color: Blonde/Green
Height/ Mass: 1.83m/95.455kg
Date of Birth: July 21, 1137


Sword of Aesteroth:

Real Name: The Sword of Aesteroth
Player Name: Michael Legard
Concept: Follower
Nationality/Race: Ancient Artifact
Hair/Eye Color: N/A / N/A
Height/ Mass: 1.5m/12.5kg
Date of Creation: Unknown


Silver:

Real Name: Silver
Player Name: Michael Legard
Concept: Follower
Nationality/Race: Pegasus
Hair/Eye Color: Pure White/ Blue
Height/Mass: 3m/800kg

[Soulcatcher]

Soulcatcher Quotes:


Shadowyn:

“ Things are not always as they appear to be.”
“ Everyone has a choice. Just not always a good choice.”
“Who the hell do you think you are!”
“Oh, shut up.” (Quietly)

Orb of Daedelous:

“Welcome to Sanctuary.”
“Do not vilify that which you do not understand.”
“The threads of prophecy are wound tight but can be cut by free will.”
“The mysteries of the Universe sometimes need to remain mysterious.”

Morg:

“Do this Morg. Do that Morg. It’s always something.”
“Yes, Yes. I’m coming. Really, I am…grumble…grumble…”

Ctharr:

“Nice to meet you in person, finally.”
“Let’s have a toast!”
“Sacrifice is sometimes necessary.”
“The Art of War can be applied to any situation.”

Doomsday:

No quotes because he does not speak.

Johnathon Colt:

“Ah, crap. Its’ too early in the morning for this.”
“It’s time, ladies, to lock’n load.”
“Lets’ rock and roll!”
“Have we met before?”

Tashriel:

“Burn me!”
“Tormenting you is one of lifes’ little pleasures.”
“Indulge your desires for tomorrow you may be toast.”
“I think I’m hot. DO YOU?”

Sir Garen de Valmont:

“Thy champion is at hand.”
“If thou hast a Quest, my blade is with thee.”
“My Lady.”
“Ho, Silver!”

The Sword of Aesteroth:

“Thy evilness shall end!”
“Thy will is my command.”

Pegasus:

“I shall ride like the wind. “

[Soulcatcher]

Soulcatcher Character Descriptions:



Shadowyn:

Her body is always sheathed in black leather. She wears a head-hiding black morion with black gloves and boots. She, also, wears a heavy, black greatcloak. The only color to break the black is a large red clasp for the greatcloak, silver studs and the red of an uncut ruby in the clutches of a five-talon claw attached to the pommel of a dagger that she wears in a black leather sheath at her waist.

When Tasha does not cover herself up in her Shadowyn black outfit, she is a very beautiful and sensuous young, 5’6” Caucasian woman of 16 years of age. Her eyes are alluring. She has one red and one black pupil although she does cover them with black contacts. Her hair is a long, luxuriant deep black. Her clothing is varied according to circumstances but, when not wearing something normal, she tends towards extremes such as studs, sexy black leather outfits or even hair streaking. She uses red lipstick to contrast with her typical black outfits. On her left breast is a symbol of a flaming silver skull surrounded by a silver circle. Her skull has a couple of deformities, one on the left and one on the right side.


Orb of Daedelous:

The Orb is a beautiful, perfect sphere displaying an ever-changing pattern of images, patterns, symbols and colors, although sometimes it will display just a single color, an azure blue. Electrical discharges arc within the Orb. Fire seems to flow upon its surface. The Orb can alter its appearance and form to show information and manipulate objects. To manipulate or grasp objects, it projects luminous pseudopodia. The sphere is made up of an unknown material.


Ctharr of the Hasratzi Xrix:

Ctharr is a Xrixian. The Xrix are an alien species. The main body of a Xrixian is roughly spherical, about 1m diameter and with a chitinous shell. They have 16 eyestalks and 16 tentacles, which protrude from their bodies in all directions. The eyestalks are ½m long while the tentacles are 1m long which end in clawed appendages that can be used for fine manipulation due to a series of recessed protrudences within each claw that can be extended. Six of the tentacles are required for walking at any one time. Xrixians have four orifices, which are used for eating, breathing, and exhalation of waste and sexual reproduction. Xrixians also have a very fine coat of short hairs covering their bodies, which are of a variety of colors dependant on the Xrixian clan in question. Ctharr is of the warrior clan Hasratzi and his primary coloring is a dark green with brown and yellow striations on the tentacles and eyestalks. The eyes are yellow and the orifices are a beige color. Xrixians do not normally wear clothes.


Morg:

Morg is a creature who has a dark, misty somewhat humanoid form that flows and glides. He appears to be covered in a great, misty hooded cloak. He has two red glowing eyes on his face that is the only really distinguishable feature on his body. Making contact with his form produces a chill as if someone has walked on your grave.


Doomsday:

Doomsday wears a short red tunic. He wears no other clothes. His skin is a very dark black. His form is perfectly shaped and strong with black hair, teeth, nails and gums. His limbs are smooth and strong with no blemishes like a statue. His pupil-less eyes are pure midnight. There is no respiration evident and his eyes neither shift nor blink providing what appears to be an empty gaze. Looking into his eyes closely gives the impression of a dark, bottomless vista into which you begin to feel you are falling. His steps make no sound or impression. Perfect ebony best describes his appearance. He has no hair at all.

Johnathon Colt:

Johnny is a Caucasian, tall with an athletic build and well-chiseled features. He also has a moustache and wavy, black hair. His eyes are a piercing blue.

When on a case, Johnny wears a black, full-length trenchcoat overtop black shirt and pants with black, silver-studded cowboy boots. He wears a black, turned down wide-rim hat. When not on a case, Johnny tends to wear casual clothes and attire, in addition to a Red Sox cap. He does dress up for an occasion if he must and is quite stylish if he has to be. He drives a Porsche.

Tashriel:

Tashriel is a beautiful, 6’6” tall, red skinned devil with long, luxuriant black hair and two large, black horns rising from the sides of her head. She has a long red tail and a pair of large, black bat wings. She wears a black suit of devilish armor covering parts of her body in a very suggestive manner. The devilish armor is covered in frightening scenes of horror. She has one red pupil and one black one. She also wears a symbol on the left breast of her armor of a silver, flaming skull within a silver circle. This symbol is also on her breast under her armor and not visible. The symbol is the sigil of House Ariel within the nobility of Hell. She does not wear any clothes apart from her armor and a black bikini beneath it. She has long, red claws extending from her hands and feet. She tends to walk and act, when not on a mission, in a very lustful and sensuous style.

Sir Garen de Valmont:

Sir Garen is a tall knight in shining half-plate/half-chain armor with a shining shield with the sun on it in gold. The cloth trim for his armor is blue and gold. He is a Caucasian with long blond hair. He is very handsome with a winning smile that women swoon over. Hie eyes are a verdant green. He wears a long gold and blue cloak over his shining armor. His shining helmet, shaped like pegasus, has a visor. On the front of his armor and on his cloak is embossed a pegasus. He carries the aura of a hero around with him in his demeanor, presence and verbally. Goodness and virtue oozes from every pore of this Paladin.

The Sword of Aesteroth:

This longsword gleams in light and reflects it with its mirrored surface. The pommel is gem encrusted with red, yellow and blue gems which sometimes flare when in use. The blade is perfectly balanced and seems to anticipate the moves of its possessor. It whirls with unimaginable speed and hums as it slices through the air.

Silver:

Silver is a beautiful Pegasus all in white, including its feathery wings. It wears gleaming barding with the same style and color pattern as Sir Garen. On its forehead is a radiant diamond. It is a majestic being in appearance and manner.

[zornwil]

Sheesh, Soulcatcher, it's GREAT, that's probably why you're not getting much input!

I'm still reading through it, in any case, excellent work.

PS/EDIT - have you read Ragman? You should, I think you can find some old copies easily enough in the used bins.

[Soulcatcher]

Another character background:


Ctharr Crtaskt Krtynol Background: (K-tar Ker-task-t Ker-tine-nol)



STAR FEDERATION INTELLIGENCE REPORT SUMMARY: 7-12-G935

SUBJECT: IDENTIFICATION AND ANALYSIS OF THE HASRATZI XRIX


HASRATZI HOMEWORLD:

The Hasratzi (Haz-rat-zee) Xrix (Zer-ricks) is an intelligent alien species located primarily in the Omicron Sector. Their homeworld is in the Mrtalsa (Mer-tal-za) system, on the fourth planet called Mrtalsa IV.

HASRATZI XRIX DESCRIPTION:

The main body of a male adult Xrixian is roughly spherical, about 1m diameter and with a brown chitinous shell. Females are slightly smaller by 2cm. They each have 16 eyestalks and 16 tentacles, which protrude from their bodies in all directions. The males eyestalks are ½m long while the tentacles are 1m long which end in clawed appendages that can be used for fine manipulation due to a series of recessed protrudences within each claw that can be extended. The female appendages are slightly shorter by 1cm and 2cm respectively. Total male Xrixian adult height including appendages is 3m and for females it is 2.94m. Total Xrixian mass is approximately 800 kg for males and 700kg for females. The unexpectedly lower female weight is due to a lighter, thinner chitinous armor. The dimensions and weights listed can typically vary by 10% in any Xrixian.

A total six of the tentacles are required for walking at any one time. Xrixians have four orifices, which are used for eating, breathing, exhalation of waste and sexual reproduction, respectively. These orifices are normally covered by a retractable chitinous armor. Xrixians also have a very fine coat of short hairs covering their bodies, which are of a variety of colors dependant on the Xrixian clan in question. The clan Hasratzi has a primary hair coloring that is dark green with brown and yellow striations in the hair color on the tentacles and eyestalks. The eyes are shades of yellow and the orifices are a beige color. Males have brighter colors than females. Xrixians do not normally wear clothes.

HASRATZI XRIX SOCIETY:

Xrixian society has a clan-based structure. Each clan is signified by different color patterns on their bodies. Each clan has its own homeworld. If there is a central homeworld that they all originated from, as is believed, its identity and location remain unknown to us at this time. The Xrix do not speak of it.

Xrixians have some variation in their individual capabilities. Different Xrixian clans also have different societal customs, dialects, economic and military strengths. Some clans may be wanderers, pastoral, raiders, more or less technologically advanced, with varying degrees of religious fervor, some are peaceful, some are warlike and even mercenary. There have also been reports of strange abilities in some Xrix, which become outcasts from their own society. The breadth of variety is significant and is detailed in various intelligence reports.

The Hasratzi Xrixians value clan, family, honor, loyalty and obedience, in accordance with the military structure of their clan.

XRIXIAN CLANS:

Xrixian clans are in a shifting series of alliances, competition and even inter-clan warfare. Xrixians are a very powerful and adaptable race with their major weakness being their lack of unity. United, they would be a very dangerous foe. Only an overwhelming threat or an exceptional leader could unite most but probably not all clans. The Hasratzi Xrix fit the standard profile of Xrix behavior. There has been no evidence of any exceptional Xrix leaders, including the Hasratzi, with the potential to unite the clans at this time.

A Beautiful Son:

The year is 8,081 BC, on Mrtalsa IV (Mer-tal-za), in the Mrtalsa star system:
“The panorama of the universe is a wonder to behold beyond all wonders,” sighed Ceskat (Kes-kat), “with all of its majestic blues, reds, yellows, but it is nothing compared to you Ctharr, my gorgeous baby boy.” She snuggled him gingerly with three of her sixteen tentacles. “Isn’t he just perfect, Drtosket (Dirt-tos-ket). Aren’t those brown and yellow striations just to die for?” She swooned with her new baby. “I think he has your eyes. They are such a pleasing ivory-yellow color, just like yours Drtosket.

The Xrixian (Zer-rix-zian) Warlord of the 7th Hasratzi Sentinel inspected his scion with a critical set of eyes. “He appears strong and healthy. He will make an admirable warrior. Has the Recktshon (Rek-tis-shone) pronounced him fit.” He swiveled two eyes towards his mate, impatient with her infatuation with Ctharr.

“Yes dear. She pronounced him free of defects. We can keep him!” she exclaimed in joy. In her rapture, she counted, again, all sixteen tentacles and all the matching eyestalks of their newest offspring, a male, finally, to carry on the warrior tradition of their lineage. The tiny hairs on her body began to undulate in an arousing fashion in her ecstasy.

“Ceskat,” rumbled Drtoskets voice. “I think it is time for you to set him in his tank.” She quickly, but gently, set Ctharr down onto the bluish-gray sand in his tank.

“I see, I suppose you want to try to get a new recruit!” snickered Ceskat, while she ever so slowly began to intertwine her tentacles and eyestalks with Drtosket.

Growing Up:

Life for Ctharr, from a very early age, was one of preparation to become the new Warlord of the 7th Hasratzi Sentinel, the primary space fleet defending the Mrtalsa star system. His education began with the Hasratzi Code, progressed to physical training, military science and leadership. Ctharr showed excellence in all areas of endeavor, well beyond that even of his father, who was considered the best commander the Hasratzi have had in many generations.

When Ctharr reached the age of the warrior, at 25 standard earth years, he was given command of his first warship, the Frigate Durtraskt (Der-trask-tut). Ctharr excelled in the art of command and war to such a degree that he quickly gained promotion to Squadron First. Ctharrs’ reputation grew steadily with his successes. Drtosket beamed with pride at his sons’ accomplishments and contemplated the possibilities with Ctharr leading the clan or clans in battle.

Others took notice as well…




STAR FEDERATION INTELLIGENCE REPORT SUMMARY: 3-11-L749

SUBJECT: ANALYSIS OF THE HASRATZI XRIX LEADER
CTHARR CERTASKT KRTYNOL

Recent intelligence reports indicate that a Xrix leader named Ctharr Certaskt Krtynol has gained an unusual level of respect and support in other clans. This individual may represent a growing national security risk to the Star Federation if he is able to begin to unite the diverse clans of the Xrix. Further analysis of the risk factors and options to mitigate this risk has been requested of the Central Directive of Strategic Analysis (CDSA), pursuant to National Security Directive 79.

Menace from the Stars:

…Far from the centers of power in the Star Federation, a menace emerged from the galactic core. The fleet of the Drell came like locusts, scouring star system after star system, sweeping all opposition aside. The Star Federation 12th Deep Space Reconnaissance Squadron encountered the Drell at system FSS-7639. The Squadron was able to send an emergency subspace signal to Outpost 75 in the Dejendre System before it was destroyed.

When the SFCC (Star Federation Central Command) viewed the report from FDSRS 12 from Dejendre outpost, they were shocked and dismayed by what they saw. Data analysis by CDSA indicated that the enemy fleet numbered in the range of 20,000 ships, well beyond the capability of even the entire Federation fleet to deal with.

Further reports placed the timetable for invasion of Star Federation space at 2 years. Even with that lead-time it would be impossible to build a fleet to deal with the threat. The SFCC came to the eventual conclusion that an alliance with other races would be necessary to stave off inevitable defeat. The only problem was that the current geo-political circumstances weighed heavily against that option succeeding. The only valid choice ended up being one in which the solution could be as bad as the problem. That choice was to unite the Xrix, at least, temporarily.

For that purpose, the SFCC re-examined the usefulness of Ctharr Certaskt Krtynol. The threat that he presented as a leader of a unified Xrix now presented itself as a possibility to save the Star Federation. The Star Federation enlisted the aid of Daedelous, a Seer within the Triumvirate of Guldar, who had predicted this threat. It was on the basis of his analysis of foretelling that FDSRS 12 was sent to system FSS-7639, despite the opposition of the SFCC. The Triumvirate and its mysticism had more influence within the current Governing Council of the Star Federation than the SFCC liked.

Supreme Commander:

Daedelous was eventually able to meet and convince Ctharr of the threat of the Drell…


… “You can stop now, Daedelous. Really, you can stop trying to convince me. I give up. I surrender! I never thought I’d be saying that to a metrenor (met-tray-nor),” Chtarr spoke with great exasperation in his voice, as he flung out several tentacles in a gesture of submission. “ You wield words with the skill of a warrior. I have never met the likes of you before! Come let’s have a drink to celebrate this quest of a lifetime.”

Daedelous followed into the next chamber and piped up, “I think we shall be great friends.”

“I was thinking the same thing, Daedelous, the exact same thing. We are about to embark on the adventure of a lifetime that will be read of, in the history books, for thousands of years! Let’s have a toast!” exclaimed Ctharr, as he reached for two blue crystal flasks of Tordani nectar, the sweetest and most potent drink in this part of the sector.

“If we win, Ctharr.”

“No need to frown Daedelous. I have never lost a battle yet and don’t plan on starting now. Still, if we did lose, it will be glorious!”

Daedelous gulped, “What do you mean we and what do you mean glorious?”

“Well Daedelous, you are the one getting me into this, so your going to see it through with me, at my side,” chuckled Ctharr, who slowly placed a tentacle around Daedelous and drew him in close. “It will be glorious!”

“But…but…but…I’m not a warrior.”

“Congratulations, you are now!”…

To End the Threat:

Ctharr, with the help of Daedelous, was able to unite the Xrix in alliance with the Star Federation. As a result of their alliance, many other races decided to join in as well. The Alliance Fleet, led by Ctharr, met the Drell at Porteus Prime, a system of a billion people. A portion of the Alliance Fleet drew the Drell into a trap on the outskirts of the system incorporating a sudden artificial black hole. The black hole inhibited the maneuverability of the Drell Fleet and allowed the Alliance Fleet to pin them. The battle took almost a day but, in the end, much of the Drell Fleet was destroyed but at a significant cost to the Alliance.

Alliance Intelligence then discovered that the Drell were a predatory species much akin to a ravaging insect horde. The Drell did not have a homeworld anymore. They sought out starsystems to ravage and to take what they wanted, whether resources or technology. They even had manufacturing ships that could create anything from food to warships. The Drell were a species who now lived totally in space but were completely alien in nature and thought. All attempts at communication with surviving Drell prisoners failed. For some undetermined reason, all Drell prisoners died quickly, while in captivity.

The question arose, in the Alliance High Command, of whether to seek out the surviving Drell forces and to destroy them to eliminate the threat that they posed to all civilized worlds, once and for all. Ctharr, with the support of Daedelous, vehemently opposed the genocide of an entire species, just because our initial attempts to communicate with them had failed. Ctharr did not believe that the Alliance had the right to destroy a species without making every effort possible to end the conflict some other way. The Alliance voted heavily in favor of immediate pursuit to take advantage of the desperately weakened Drell forces. Alliance Task Forces were dispatched in search and destroy missions to finish off the Drell.

Ctharr could not condone the policy of extermination and resigned his position of High Alliance Fleet Commander. Some of the Xrix chose to follow Ctharr out of the Alliance and become independent again but many stayed…

A Different Path:

… “What shall I do now Daedelous? Even my own people participate in this folly! I just can’t believe my brother, Thtron (Tit-tron) would be chosen by the Captains to lead the Hasratzi in this vengeance and orgy of violence!” shouted Chtarr, as he slammed a chair into a wall, shattering the chair to pieces. “They are defeated, vanquished.”

“Calm down my friend,” beseeched Daedelous. “You did everything that you could. They simply wouldn’t or couldn’t listen to you. They are following the bloodlust, only death and mayhem will satisfy it.”

“But to kill every adult and offspring of the Drell. It’s too much! What have I done? I have become Death. The Xrix will shout my name as they destroy all of them. What can I do, Daedelous, what?” then Chtarr slumped to the ground and began to weep.

It was an act that Daedelous had never seen Chtarr do in the three years they had spent together. It saddened him beyond words, beyond measure. (If only his people could see him now, but would it make a difference, probably not.) Daedelous grabbed a stiff drink from the cabinet and sat down heavily beside his friend. “ I think it is time for a toast, Ctharr. To the Drell may some escape the vengeance that comes their way.” He took a deep swig of the drink and passed the bottle to Chtarr.

Chtarr slowly reached for it. “ May we find salvation on another path.” He then began to drain the bottle completely. After he finished, Chtarr turned to Daedelous, winked and said “I think this will be a fine time to get drunk…”

Atonement:

4 Years later…

“Are you sure Daedelous, absolutely sure?” questioned Ctharr, concern mirrored in his eyes.

“ I have verified it all, more times than I care to imagine. No one realizes yet that the Chronicles of the Avatar relate to the Destructor of Worlds Prophecy. Very few people study the Chronicles anymore because they don’t seem to make sense or lead anywhere. I only just began to study the Chronicles because a student of mine, who specializes in the Trelliut Prophecies, mentioned a passage out of it in support of a paper he had written. That passage led me to the connection between the Chronicles of the Avatar and the Destructor of Worlds Prophecies. That connection’s me!” Daedelous spoke excitedly and began to wave his arms to match.

“Aren’t you being a little melodramatic,” replied Chtarr, who was beginning to take more interest in both the subject matter, as well as Daedelous’ hands lest one of his eyestalks gets hit accidentally, that would be painful.

“In the 17th chapter of the Chronicles of the Avatar, it states,‘He, who swam the stars with trigorsen, would come full circle with destiny enhanced and weave the fabric of the ancient zealous sun till the precipice is reached under the shadow of the one moon.’ Trigorsen was the secret name of a childhood friend of mine named Jasil, who had drowned on an outing with me, while at Star Lake, our favorite camping area in the Firset star system. The prophecies are speaking directly to me,” enthused Daedelous, as he continued to flail his arms about, in his excitement. “I believe that ‘ the shadow of the one moon’ refers to the Shadowed One of the Destructor of Worlds Prophecy and this interpretation is supported in some other chapters of the Chronicles. On the other hand, ‘the ancient zealous sun’ refers to ‘tasz’ in the Destructor of Worlds Prophecy. It is completely interlinked.”

“But what is the significance of all this, Daedelous. I have never seen you this excited,” Ctharr questioned patiently, as he slowly backed away from Daedelous.

“Well, this realizetion means that I have a role to play in the foremost prophecy of all time. A foretelling of the end of the universe as we know it. That the universe would enter into perpetual darkness from which no salvation can be had. Its like the entire universe will become a black hole of evil.”

“Daedelous, you’re beginning to get me concerned. When is all of this supposed to happen?”

“Well, the prophecies indicate that this apocalypse will happen in about 10,000 years give or take a century,” replied Daedelous, as he suddenly stop waving his arms and say down heavily in the chair behind.

“I don't think we have to worry too much. Why the sudden sullen disposition, my friend?”

“There’s one problem with the prophecy,”sighed Daedelous.

“Only one problem. That doesn’t sound like a lot. What is it?”

“For me to play my role, and the signs and portents indicate I should to give the universe a chance, someone must make an unbelievable sacrifice.” Daedelous, looked down at the floor, then back up at Chtarr.

“What’s wrong Daedelous? You were just so excited and now this. Are you sure you’re not becoming a manic-depressive,” snickered Ctharr. Yet, Chtarr could not help but feel a foreboding growing inside himself.

“I have had an epiphany and…I,” stumbled Daedelous, not wanting to speak the next words, frantically thinking, with his eidetic memory, through the prophecies, trying to find a way out, to find anything.

“It’s me, isn’t it. I’m in those prophecies too,” stated Ctharr in a very quiet manner.

“Yes.”

“I’m the sacrifice?”

“Yes.” Daedelous simply could not look at his friend anymore.

“My friend, what is this unbelievable sacrifice that you speak of?” softly spoke Ctharr, as he reached forward one tentacle to rest on Daedelous’ shoulder.

“ You are to be joined to a Vessel of the Gods through the use of ancient forbidden magics to become an immortal.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” reflected Ctharr, curiosity stirring.

“You won’t be alive in the conventional sense. You will become something else. I don’t even know if you will be you anymore.” Still, Daedelous shied away from looking at his friend, trembling inside at the unfairness of it all.

“I accept.”

“What!” cried out Daedelous as he suddenly stood up.

“Daedelous, I have been looking for a way to atone for my role in the genocide of the Drell. This is it. Maybe this was always it, the reason I was born, the reason the Drell were sacrificed. Maybe I was being prepared for this role, I don’t know. What I do know is that I am ready to place myself in your hands so that we, together, can try to save the universe. Sacrifice is sometimes necessary in war and from what you say, we are all that stands in the way of annihilation. What better reason is their to sacrifice ones life.”

[Soulcatcher]

Shadowmist:

Note: this is the character background for Soulcatchers' mother.

This is a very long character background. I have never done this type of writing before this thread and that is why I would like to get feedback so that I can improve my writing and my storytelling ability.

I find that once I start writing that the ideas start to flow and I feel the need to write more, to provide a more complete story. This process seems to really generate a real feel for the character beyond the simple paper that it would be normally written upon.

With the size of this background, I felt that it was necessary to break it up into mini-chapters to provide proper pacing and perspective. I put alot of effort into generating interesting and amusing chapter headings, or at least I think so, and I was wondering what people think about that aspect, whether it was successful and if it connected well enough to the contents of each chapter.

I have also decided to add mini-chapters to my other backgrounds to ease the progression from one part of the background to the next part.

Feel free to provide any kind of feedback, good or bad or in between.

Background:

Shadows Shaken, not Stirred:

The blood dripped ever so slowly and caused tiny splashes as it impacted upon the rough-hewn floor. Rivulets formed that meandered their way, like a lazy river, through the uneven volcanic floor of the chamber, only to disappear into the ravenous maw of cracks that led to the unknown depths of this world of horror and evil, called The Netherworld.

The Shadows that flitted about, hurriedly, were proficient at their duties, while they ignored both the blood and the naked male form from which it flowed. Their Lord and Master would arrive soon and all must be at the ready. The consequences of failure were obvious even to their limited intellects.

Suddenly, they all froze, as a malevolent presence flowed into the bleak, desolate chamber to look upon the face of the enemy, laid bare upon the dark, blood-encrusted alter.

“ Galladorn, you look so weak and pathetic… Not awake yet, I see. I think it is time to meet your doom, face to face, fool!” rumbled the voice from deep within the coruscating darkness. “Let us get to the heart of the matter.”

A vaguely humanoid arm breached the darkness of the malevolent force, reached down into Galladorn’s chest and ripped forth his beating heart, yet leaving the chest intact. The wizards’ eyes opened abruptly and a scream erupted from his mouth.

“I see you are awake. I am Baal. You have tasked me like no other… but it is at an end,” Baal whispered. “I think that you will be able to appreciate the ancient magics that I am using now. This delicious enchantment allows me to devour you, piece by bloody piece and still keep you alive, temporarily. You will feel every bite, munch and nibble even from your heart in my claw because the magic keeps your mind in contact with every fragment of your body… You will no longer deny us.” Baal started to squeeze his heart.

Galladorn gasped with the excruciating pain in his chest. “You’ve lost…and…you won’t… know it… till its’ too…too late.” Galladorn clenched his teeth hard together, began to convulse, and then relaxed into stillness, eyes staring blankly.

Baal roared in fury, “NOOOO!” Shadows fled.

The Great Mating Game:

Deep within the bowels of a maelstrom of darkness, death, chaos and evil, the Lords of Darkness and Chaos led by Baal have plotted, for ten millennia, to loose their scourge upon the Earth, to subjugate that which they crave – life. These Lords of Ultimate Evil have sought, painstakingly, to forge a tool, so powerful, such that it could release their hordes by breaching the barrier between their domain and the Earth, which teems with life to corrupt and destroy.

Slowly and diligently, they have sought to fulfill the destiny promised by the Eye of Delphi. They had manipulated the bloodlines of those most powerful in both the mystic arts and those born of great supernatural power. Blood had always been the seed of power and these Lords knew it all too well.

Eventually, Baal faced the critical nexus point that would lead to the creation of their weapon. The daunting riddle that they faced was how to mate the powerful sorceress Queen of the Imperium, known as the Dread Empire, with Asmodeus, the Supreme Lord of Hell, to produce the necessary female heir to fulfill prophecy.

Baal set into motion a most daring and diabolical plan. Through the subtle manipulations of a traitor in Hell, the Lords of Darkness and Chaos were able to influence Asmodeus to hatch a plot to conquer, from within, the Dread Empire. The plot would involve Asmodeus siring the heir to the Imperium and by controlling the heir, he would hope to extend his Dominion to other dimensions because the Imperium was a transdimensional empire of magic fused with technology.

Queen Shatospon of the Imperium was having great difficulty in providing a female heir to become the new Queen. The politics of succession had become tense and fraught with danger for the Empire. Asmodeus, used powers of transformation and desire seduced the Queen. The Queen became pregnant to the great relief of the Empire. Asmodeus salivated at the prospect of ruling the Dread Empire as father and daughter.


Stork Delivers to Wrong Address:

Both Asmodeus and Baal plotted in utter secrecy to abduct the child soon after birth to fulfill their respective plans. To the surprise of Baal, something that occurred rarely, Ariel was born 5 weeks premature. It was not what the Eye of Delphi had predicted. To Baals’ great dismay, agents of Asmodeus abducted Ariel and delivered her into the care of Tophet Ilium, a most trusted servant on Earth, to prepare her for her role.

The Imperium was in an uproar. The sorceries of the most premier wizards were quickly put into play. A few agents of Hell were discovered, but died without revealing anything of consequence. All traces of Princess Ariel were lost. Some of the finest agents and heroes of the Imperium were quested to find the missing Princess, no matter what it took or how long.

To those on Earth, all of those titanic events were registered as a birth announcement for the Ilium family. Jasmine Ilium was born on February 6, 1966 near Stonehaven on the Scottish coast, just south of Aberdeen. She was born into a wealthy, eccentric, aristocratic family living on an extensive estate with a majestic view of the North Sea.

The Best Laid Plans of Mice, Men and Darkness…

On April 30,1966 local police responded to a call to the Ilium estate and found, to their horror, a massacre. Ten people were found butchered including Jasmines’ mother, father, brother, 3 sisters, and 4 servants. Jasmine, miraculously, was found alive, floating in a basket, within the central courtyard well. Police were dumbfounded and, eventually, closed the case.

Police could find no trace of other relations of the Ilium family. Children Services placed Jasmine into care, with a government appointed trustee to handle her financial affairs. As Jasmine grew up, she suffered from nightmares of hideous monsters and apparitions. Her dreams were relegated to a childs’ nightmare brought on by the impact of the horror of the massacre.

On August 17, 1971, she was placed in the care of Dr. Joseph Strong, a psychiatrist, at the Edinburgh Institute of Mental Health. He diagnosed her with a sociopathic mental disorder, which required constant treatment and supervision.

On January 7,1973, Dr. Strong was found dead in Jasmines’ room, with Jasmine sound asleep beside him. No cause of death was found. After his death, Jasmines’ personality and behavior issues improved in a dramatic fashion, such that in 3 months time, she was ready to be discharged.

The Lords of Darkness and Chaos Strike Back…Finally:

Unexpectedly, family relations turned up willing to take her in. After a one-month investigation, Children Services made a determination that it would be best to place her in the custody of her own relatives. The night before her release, on May 9, 1973, Jasmine disappeared amid the turmoil of a night of terror, as death stalked the halls of the Edinburgh Institute. On that moonless, eerie night of darkness and mayhem, Jasmine, amid a legion of supernatural evil, passed from this world to a new world, the Netherworld.

The desires of the Lords of Darkness and Chaos were to finally be fulfilled. They were now ready to mold Jasmine into the weapon they envisioned, to lead their cultists on Earth to bring about their dominion. They were now one step closer to realizing their destiny, as prophesized by the Eye of Delphi. They hungered for Jasmine to become the ultimate weapon to breach the ethereal barriers blocking them from their feeding grounds. All they had to do was their specialty, corruption.

For many years, the Lords bent and shaped Jasmine into the tool that they desired, a tool that would hate humanity, a tool that would subjugate the Earth and rend it. All was certain in the minds of the Lords of Darkness and Chaos.


Behind Curtain Number 1:

In 1977, on the Netherworld, Jasmine began to have doubts about what the Lords of Darkness and Chaos taught her. Her doubts originated in dream conversations she began to have with Silvercloak, the leader of the Varee, a race of unicorns, who was trapped into bound servitude to Lords of Darkness and Chaos. How she was able to have these conversations, she was never able to figure out.

Silvercloak expressed to her a different reality. Jasmine began to learn about truth, beauty, love and all that was good, that had been denied to her. She also began to learn about the supposed virtue and purity of the powers of Darkness and the apparent evilness of humanity. These were ideas that she had immense difficulty in accepting. Nevertheless, Jasmine began to have qualms that humanity may not have been responsible for the destruction of her family.

She resolved to discover the truth of what had happened to Silvercloak, a seemingly noble and honorable creature. Using deception, Jasmine unveiled the truth of how Silvercloak was duped into surrendering himself to Baal to save his children. Jasmine pledged to Silvercloak to rectify the wrong done.

Jasmine had learned much about deviousness from Baal and much about law from Silvercloak. Using her knowledge, Jasmine tricked Baal into breaking the conditions that had held Silvercloak honor-bound in servitude.

This act infuriated Baal and, in a spasm of rage, he assailed both Jasmine and Silvercloak. Baal finally revealed his true venomous self. The lies came crashing down into ruin. Silvercloak escaped with a critically wounded Jasmine.

The last thing Jasmine heard before she passed out was the voice of Baal bellowing: “Lest you feel hope in this slight victory, hear this, you are part of us in body and soul. We are bound together. We are part of you, irrevocably. You shall return to the fold to be our sword or you shall, in your great, innate evilness, as in your father, Asmodeus, with terrible despair, breach the gateway to destroy us as is your only salvation from your destiny. Despair in your folly and fear, for all paths lead to our destiny to conquer the Earth, as is our right and as we had once ruled!”

Haven Today, Gone Tomorrow:

Silvercloak brought Jasmine to his own enchanting world, Syon. Jasmine was in critical condition but the finest Varee healers were able to save her life. It took many months for her to recuperate fully from her physical wounds.

Other wounds cut deeper. During her convalescence, doubt, fear and despair clung to her heart. She kept thinking back to what Baal had said at the end. Was it true? Was she evil and corrupted? Would using her power be evil or not using it? It was almost too much for her 11-year-old mind to cope with.

Silvercloak helped as best as he could. He knew that these were questions only she could answer for herself.

For her act of extraordinary courage and compassion, Silvercloak professed his and his peoples’ loyalty to her, even offering one of their kinds as personal steed. Jasmine refused vehemently, “Silvercloak, you and yours have served others far too long. You and I have no idea where that offer might lead you. No! You would best serve your people by being free and not beholding to some outsider. Be free. Act with discretion using your wisdom and kindness as guides, not obligation. Promise me that!” Silvercloak promised.

My Fair Devil:

A year later, the Varee returned Jasmine to Earth. On September 17, 1978, Jasmine wandered into a police station in Edinburgh, Scotland. She claimed that she had suffered memory loss. When her identity was confirmed, she was placed into care of William Drake at the special request of the government. Her estate, still in trust, was now to be administered by Mr. Drake as well.

William Drake was an unusual choice as trustee. His relationship with the British government went far into the past. He was a man of action, not used to the task of babysitter. But his retirement years were, to say the least, uninspiring. This particular case that the British government wanted his involvement with, at least, looked interesting. Even he had no clue of the new direction his life would take.

Jasmine developed a very close friendship with William, while under his care. William helped guide her emotional development, as well as teaching her what he knew of the world, which was considerable. Their bond became like that between a daughter and a father. It was a new experience for both of them. Not something either of them had expected, but rewarding nevertheless.

Despite how close they had become, William had come to know that there was something deep inside Jasmine, something dark and foreboding that troubled her. No matter what he tried, he was unable to reach that part of her which troubled her so greatly. She thought she could hide it from him, but he knew her well enough to see through her facade. He hoped that some day she would be willing to confide in him. He would be there for her when it was time.

I’m Evil, I’m Evil Not…

Doubt, despair and dread still clung sharply to Jasmines’ heart. Try as she might, she could not escape her feelings that taunted her incessantly, that she was evil and corrupted, unworthy of the love and caring of a friend such as William. She pained over the fact that she could not bring herself to reveal her innermost secrets to William for fear of losing her one true friend. She so desperately wished she could, to gain the comfort she so grievously needed. She simply could not face the prospect that he would see her as truly evil and condemn her as the monstrosity that she feared she was. Of all things, she couldn’t suffer to lose him. She feared that to lose him would cause her to surrender herself to the darkness that dwelt within her soul.

As she struggled over her destiny, she continued to develop the powers of magic that had been revealed to her by the Lords of Darkness and Chaos. Despite her uncertainty of purpose, she had promised herself that she would be ready for whatever befell her, no matter where her path would lead. Perhaps the only way a tool could be free was to be more powerful than the wielder.

The Road to Hell is Paved by Curiosity:

In 1982, while on an expedition to the Isle of Legends in a quest for knowledge, Jasmine was lured into breaking the seal to a tomb, within which was bound a Servant of Darkness and Chaos, a powerful demon. The demon and Jasmine became locked in a duel to the death, while the rest of the expedition fled for their lives, little that it would help them if the demon were victorious. Gradually, Jasmine began to lose. She did not realize, at first, but reality finally dawned on her.

Asmodeus, having kept a close watch on Jasmine, sent several of his most powerful minions to save her, in the face of certain destruction. The motivations of Asmodeus were twofold: a paternal instinct to protect his daughter and a desire to protect his investment, particularly since the child seemed to possess an inordinate amount of potential power which could be exceedingly useful, especially to sustain his status as Overlord of Hell. The rescue was a success and Jasmine was delivered to her new home on the Ninth Plane of Hell.

Princess Evil and the Seven Little Devils:

Jasmine finally came face to face with her father and took the discovery with aplomb. Somehow, nothing shocked her anymore. That Asmodeus was her father ‘felt’ right. There was some bond/connection between them that she felt instantly upon meeting him and hearing his words. She knew the truth. Did that truth also mean that she was evil? She was uncertain, but feared the answer to that question even more now.

Asmodeus told her much of her past, including that she was Princess Ariel Cassandra Seraph Shatospon of the Dread Empire. To discover that she was a Princess was an unexpected pleasure. One of her dreams, on Earth, had been to be a Princess from a fairytale so that she could escape the horrors of her life, rescued by a Prince in shining armor. Asmodeus, though, did not quite fit her expectation of her Prince.

Asmodeus introduced her to a world of hedonistic pleasure and power. He assigned seven devils to her to ensure that all her wants and desires would be fulfilled. For a while, the novelty of her experiences engrossed and distracted her. Yet, she found it both unfulfilling and repetitive. There had to be more to life than pleasure and power, though it seemed to satisfy Asmodeus and the other Devils. Her doubts continued to trouble her.

The tortured souls that she encountered distressed her despite all the justifications of her father. She did not see how eternal damnation was merited by their human failings. Silvercloak had redeemed her from a path of hate and darkness and for that he had her eternal gratitude. Why not give others the chance to be redeemed, too. All her attempts to convince her father fell flat, but that did not dissuade her.

A Fathers’ Scourge, the Teenage Daughter:

On the other hand, all of Asmodeus’ plots to entice Ariel into a life of depravity and amorality seem to flounder, unexpectedly. Asmodeus was a maestro of the art of corruption. He simply could not fathom his failure.

Despite their debates and arguments, a powerful father/daughter bond developed. Asmodeus learned to respect Ariel’s strength of will, perceptiveness and courage. Ariel’s personality was a refreshing change to what he had come to expect in Hell, especially in his own life. Despite all the sycophants, it was lonely at the pinnacle of power.

Still, she troubled him in more ways than one. Her magical prowess was both alluring and perplexing. He coveted that power but was apprehensive that he would soon not be able to hold her.

Her curiosity would often get her into sticky circumstances that would stress his forbearance, something that he was not noteworthy for except in her case. That phenomenon alone confused him greatly.

A Hell of a Life:

Ariel adapted to life in Hell with relative ease. Being a Princess of Hell was intriguing to say the least. Being inquisitive, she came to know the most notable personages of Inferno and some of the most secluded and remarkable places of Hell.

There were also many diabolic plots and machinations swirling around Ariel by those who wished to ingratiate themselves, to further their own aspirations as well as by those who wished to establish a new order. Those who sought to challenge and intimidate her discovered a formidable adversary who mastered not only the intricacies of hellish politics but also the skillful exercise of mystical power. Those who opposed her often came to regret it.

Ariel impressed many, particularly Mephistopheles. Mephisto became enamoured of her. He even desired her to be his consort, which she tactfully refused, although she was pleased that someone of his rank wanted her. Ariel simply could not trust his motivations and even had qualms that she could remain in Hell, despite her affection for her father.

Life’s a Bitch, then you get a Sister:

Although Asmodeus had fathered a second daughter, Glasya, his greatest love and affection remained for Ariel because she was special. Glasya was too much like all the rest of the devils, scheming, manipulative, and pernicious. Their fealty won over by might and guile. Ariel, though, was a daughter he could trust, a daughter with the potential to rival him in mystical might and strength of will, a daughter who could rule by his side. All that she lacked was a blackened soul but would he be able to trust her if she became like him.

Glasya knew who fathers’ favorite was and it burned her with enviousness. ‘ Why should a half-breed be favored? She was the legitimate successor to fathers’ legacy! She would show them, she would show them all!’ The anger flamed in the crevices of her mind.

When in Rome do as the Romans do, or get the Hell out of Dodge:

The evil of hell was a taint growing on her soul. It was an infection that Ariel knew would engulf her if she remained too long. To survive it, she had to leave the father that she loved.

It was a hard decision, one that she had agonized over for many weeks. Life was not fair. Shadows met her at every turn. She wondered that perhaps she was the victim of a capricious universe that took pleasure in making her life a living Hell.

Father could protect her from the Demons but not from herself. What he wanted from her would destroy her as surely as the Demons but he couldn’t or wouldn’t understand that. All he saw was the power that they could wield together, to dominate those that were weak and inferior. She simply could not make him believe that she was not naïve about the cosmos, that not just the strong should survive.

Perhaps her destiny lay elsewhere, she was unsure. So little of her life held certainty or even promise. What was she to do? Where was she to go? The only answer that came to mind was William Drake, her dear friend.

The Grass is Greener over the Septic Tank:

It had finally come time to say farewell to her father, whom she loved. She turned back to him and bit back her tears. This was not the time to show weakness. He would appreciate that.

“I will take my leave now, father. I know you think I should stay. I know you think I will be wasting my potential, but I have to figure things out for myself. It’s the only way.”

“Remember my offer, Ari. Together we can do great things. With the power that you would have, almost anything you want would be possible, even protecting some worthless lives. Think on it,” responded Asmodeus firmly, as he placed his mighty claws on her shoulders.

Ariel reached over with her right hand and tenderly stroked the claw on her left shoulder. She sighed, “I will father. I’ll also think of you and the time we had together.” She stood on her toes and reached up to touch his left cheek. Her touch was ever so slight. “I’ll be back, even if only to visit.”

Asmodeus’ eyes bore into her soul,“Remember what I have taught you.”

“Yes, father, you know how obedient I am,” she laughed heartily.

He laughed and roared, “ If I had anymore like you I would have needed to slit my own throat to put myself out of my misery!”

Without warning, he yanked her towards himself and embraced her briefly but fiercely. He whispered, “Remember.”

She peered back with all her strength as if branding his face forever. She deftly twisted out of his clasp. She squeaked, “Time to go.” Ariel took several fleet steps and twirled, “Do you think I’m presentable?”

“You look much too human for me, daughter.”

“Well, it wouldn’t do to scare them, would it father?” With a quick gesture, she shimmered and was gone.

Asmodeus lingered to look at where she had been and spoke into the silence, “But you will anyway.”

Back Out of Hell:

On Earth, William Drake had almost given up hope of ever seeing Jasmine again. The stories relayed by the expedition were unbelievable and frightening. To have Jasmine saunter into the mansion, as if she had just come back from her afternoon stroll, was almost too much for William, as the broken teacup would attest to.

Their reunion was joyful and remarkable in its’ intensity for William. He had never felt anything like it in his life. His questions came out in a torrent; “ I just can’t believe this. What happened? Where have you been? Are the stories of the expedition true?”

“Did they make it out ok?” she asked with concern mirrored in her face.

William replied carefully, “ Yes, they all made it out but they said they wouldn’t have, if it hadn’t been for you.”

Ariel visibly relaxed. She didn’t know, until now, if her father had told her the truth about the fate of the expedition. She was glad he had. She looked up at William pensively, “I can’t tell you right now, I’m sorry Will… I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to talk about it.”

She cast her eyes down but William saw that familiar shadow cross her face. ‘ If only she would trust him, he could help her’, thought William, with sadness in his heart.

All’s Quiet on the Demon Front:

It was now 1986 and, being of age, Ariel was able to finally gain access to her inheritance, which was, to say the least, abundant. It seems that she would still be able to live in the lap of luxury, if she wanted to. Hell had given her a taste of both the fouler and finer things in life and death. She contemplated about it for a spell before the question was resolved. Her final answer was: why not? Life had been both bitter and harsh. Why not live a little, in the here and now. To gain some enjoyment out of life was not a sin, at least not yet.

Ariel, also, continued her studies both of archeology, her passion for things ancient, and the mystic arts, her passion unbridled. Brilliance was a word that was often used to describe her academic work at Oxford. In 1988, Ariel completed her Ph.D. in Archeology.

With no Ilium ‘family’ ties left and not wishing to remain in Scotland anymore, Ariel decided to immigrate to Canada. It was the one place that she could think of, where she could try to be inconspicuous and have the freedom to journey the world in search of answers.

Having nothing better to do, William Drake announced to Ariel that he had also decided to move to Canada with her and that there was nothing that she could do about it. In her joy, Ariel had hugged him fiercely and told him, emphatically, that it was the news that she had hoped for but not dared to believe, considering what her luck was like sometimes.

Ariel decided to open a specialty antiquity shop in Toronto to shroud her activities while, simultaneously, providing her with useful contacts. Archeology was the perfect vocation that allowed her to explore different regions of the globe in pursuit of her research.

A Nightmare to Remember:

Although William argued against it, Ariel had finally resolved to return, to Scotland, to the family estate to face the demons of her past. It was time to lay to rest the nightmares that had haunted her from that night so long ago.

The doctors’ never believed her when she told them about the nightmares. They insisted that no infant of her age could actually remember the true happenings of that night. Even when she was young, she believed in those nightmares with all the fervidness that she could muster. Those visions of terror were as real to her as the waking world was to everyone else. Why others could not recollect memories from infancy still puzzled her. Those ghosts needed to be confronted and put to rest, even if they were only in her mind.


…Ariel, sobbing, slumped, in a trance, against rough-hewn stone of the well, in the center of the courtyard. She didn’t even notice the pain from the scrape on her knee anymore, from having tripped on an overgrown vine. She was back to that night, reliving it, but from the perspective of someone else.

Quivering, Ariel was swiftly striding toward the well, carrying a basket with both hands. It was difficult to see where she was heading in the dense mist.

She now knew who she was, Corinne. Ariel remembered being in the basket looking up at Corinne’s forlorn face, wondering what was wrong to cause her to be crying so much. Corinne was the only member of the Ilium family to truly care for her and for that Ariel had loved her. Her magic, that allowed her to see and hear everything from Corinne’s perspective, as if she were there, was overwhelming. The emotional walls that she had thrown up all these years were beginning to crack.

A loud explosion could be heard shaking the entire mansion, accompanied by the shattering and crashing of many windows, followed by an inhuman roar of anguish. Suddenly, Ariel turned toward the mansion, her tear streaked face whispered, “Father.”

It was almost too much for Ariel to endure. The emotional turmoil and terror of that night were coursing through her entire being, shaking the foundations of her fortress of fear.

A light, as bright as the sun, cut beams through the murky night, illuminating her and the infant within the basket that she carried in her hands. She turned back to the well and gingerly placed the basket on the edge. As her hand reached into the basket to comfort Little Ariel, she lowered her head and whispered.

Ariel could remember the words as if they were spoken yesterday.

“Quiet, little one. This night of all nights, you must be quiet.”

It was an inexplicable feeling that came over her as she saw her own eyes, one crimson and one raven, looking back at her, reflected in the intense saffron beams of light that erupted from the mansion. Little Ariels’ eyes held trust and love in abundance for Corinne, even under those grim circumstances. Ariels’ heart began to tear.

Ariel turned her head to gaze back at the mansion with a desolate look of fear and foreboding. She turned back and had one final look at herself in the basket. The eyes locked for an eternity that lasted a mere instant. “Good-bye.” She picked up the basket and then dropped it into the well with a splash. She checked to make sure that Little Ariel was safe.

This was the last moment that Ariel could remember of Corinne, the first love of her life.

She took a quick look around the courtyard and began to run towards the front gate. At that moment a huge explosion tore away the carved doors to the mansion, silhouetted within the foyer was the huge gruesome, blood-dripping form of the chaos beast. She was almost knocked over by the shards of the disintegrated door but she kept her balance and sprinted towards the gate.

Ariel could feel the adrenaline rush of fear pumping through Corinnes’ body.

The chaos beast saw her and let out a roar. Despite the large gaping wound on its right side, oozing greenish-yellow puss, the chaos beast moved with unnatural speed to intercept her. It reached forth with its writhing, barbed tentacles, grabbed her and lifted her off the ground. She screamed. Quickly, the beast tore her body asunder with a spray of reddish blood. It roared in pleasure as her screams of terror were silenced…

Ariel came crashing back into reality. She sobbed and cried uncontrollably, as the vision dissipated. Ever so slowly, as the minutes ticked by excruciatingly, the anguish of her heart diminished and she was able to wipe away the tears of loves’ loss. All her life she found the dark of the night to be tranquil, this night, however, the moon shadows gave little succor to her spirit.

For a moment she stared blankly. Stars began to coalesce above her as she lay staring at the vault of heaven. A sense of wonderment crept about her soul as she came to realize the truth of what had happened. Corinne did not die because of her but rather for her. Corinne had sacrificed her life to save someone that she had loved. It was an act of courage and selflessness that stood in sharp contrast to the abyss of life that Ariel had seen, lived and been subjected to so often.

With wonderment, the final walls of guilt came crashing down to be replaced with the effusing warmth of the memories of the love that she had had for Corinne. A tremendous weight had been lifted off her soul as she laid to rest the ghosts of an baneful act, an act that had placed a millstone upon her spirit with a guilt that had been devouring her.

Ariel felt lightheaded and giddy as she tried to cope with the new feelings that she was experiencing...

You Only Sin Twice:

Ariels’ journey back to Scotland had resurrected many of her feelings of rage against the demons but she was able to regain composure, to realize that she could lose herself in a war against the demons and become that which she feared and hated.

For a long time, Ariel had sequestered her alter ego from society, in the hope that, if she did not use her mystical abilities, she would not fulfill the destiny prophesied by the Lords of Darkness and Chaos. That was all to change in the spring of 1990.


…His body lay in ruin. A severed hand still gripped the pistol that had been useless in protecting himself from the demons that had gutted him.

Ariel cradled what was left of his face. She had liked Colin, even though he was a mercenary. She thought back to the beginnings of their friendship and cried. They had come from such disparate backgrounds, yet she and this gruff and tough mercenary had become fast friends through the various assignments that she had hired him for. He had been a good man and deserved a far better fate than this.

Then Colins’ face appeared to become that of another’s. Corinnes’ innocent face appeared to beseech Ariel. Anger, suppressed for so long, boiled to the surface.

Rage seethed, in Ariel, at the demons that had slaughtered Colin and at the demon that had torn beloved Corinne apart. It was twice too much! They would be made to suffer! Ariel raised her head to the stars above and howled into the darkness, “Never again, BAAAAL! These fell deeds shall be avenged! I, Ariel, daughter of Asmodeus and Queen Shatospon of the Dread Empire, do, hereby, swear to destroy you, Baal, Lord of the Netherworld. Vengeance will be mine and it will come hot from hell! Your foul deeds shall end with your begging for death! This I, hereby, SWEAR!” Cry ‘Havoc’, and let slip the hounds of Hell!"

Ariel collapsed atop Colin and murmured quietly, “Baal, when you look into the Abyss, I will be staring back.”

The war against the demons had begun.


From Hell with Love:

After her explosion of rage had tapered, Ariel searched her soul and came to the tortuous realization that to await the demons was foolhardy. Both action and inaction had their consequences. The use of her mystical powers could result in corruption and lead her down the path of darkness, but to not use her powers to protect others could allow evil to fester, grow and consume the world. Perhaps Baals’ prophecy was a lie:

“Lest you feel hope in this slight victory, hear this, you are part of us in body and soul. We are bound together. We are part of you, irrevocably. You shall return to the fold to be our sword or you shall, in your great, innate evilness, as in your father, Asmodeus, with terrible despair, breach the gateway to destroy us as is your only salvation from your destiny. Despair in your folly and fear, for all paths lead to our destiny to conquer the Earth, as is our right and as we had once ruled!”

Perhaps the prophecy had a grain of truth, as they usually did, she didn't know. She hoped, that if she did breach the gateway, that it would cause the doom of Baal and his demon hordes, instead of humanity.

She came to believe that it would be better to fight, even at the risk of Armageddon, than to die the death of a thousand cuts of doubt and despair. The shadowy tendrils of the Enemy on Earth would be fought with all her might and cunning. She would seize whatever hope there was and strive for victory for mankind over demonkind.

The innocent would have a new champion and evil would have a new foe, Shadowmist.

[jackalope]

This stuff is really cool. As a GM it would make me run screaming for the hills. They'd find me curled up in the fetal position rocking back and forth muttering "So much background information..."

But still, very, very cool.

[zornwil]

It's very good Soulcatcher, I haven't quite gone through all of it as it's a lot of info and the tone changes a bit jarringly across the entries, but I really like the story and it's good writing.

[Cheiro]

Really just echoing the senitments already expressed by others-Great Stuff.
What strikes me is the detail in your writing. I haven't gotten through all of it yet, but thanks for sharing.