Tag: demons

#02 Man of Sorrows

| November 3, 2012 | 2 Comments

The Man of Sorrows is a sorceror who sought to trade his soul to an assembly of demons in exchange for immortality and incredible power. The demons, in a rare capricious moment of mingled mercy and cruelty, let him keep his soul instead. So he feels the full weight of all the evil he does, the suffering he causes, the certain knowledge that what he does makes the world a darker, meaner, lonelier place. The tears and pervasive aura of sadness comes from this weight, but it does not deter him from his pursuit of power.

He has now been alive for eight hundred years, but due to the demons’ deal, the emotional toll of the murderous soul eating, belief vampirism, and unspeakable rituals he must perform to attain whatever equivalent of godhood he seeks, has not dimmed one solitary bit. It hounds him now, drives him, has made him even more merciless. Those who know best hide their faces from this twisted messiah. Good friend, hope that you never hear those dragging yet persistent footsteps behind you. Pray your ears never know the sound of imps teeth grinding wet spectral flesh. Pray you never hear that voice full of the centuries’ tears, whispering in a trembling tenor “I’m so, so sorry….”

#2 Eyre

| November 4, 2011 | 14 Comments

#2 Eyre by Daniel Govar

A Blue from Charn, Eyre is of course one of their warrior caste, exemplified by his blue burn and four arms. Eyre is known as a world conqueror; bringing five worlds under the Majestrix’s domain. Eyre commands the elite Twelfth Column and reports directly to the Pillars themselves.

Eyre is surprisingly young for a Blue with his accolades, being only on his sixth burn. Like all Blues, Eyre has distaste for the lower burning Ambers and Yellows. Bred for war and educated by imprint well before his first burn, Eyre has only ever had contact with the lower castes through the off-world missives of the Pillars. The Amber, Phoen, appears to him competent, unlike most Ambers, and far more fetching than he was led to believe capable in an Amber. He has heard of color-mixing before, but typically the Blues and Greens have destroyed their lovers afterwards to remove evidence of their lapses in judgement. Eyre finds this weakness for carnal pleasure strange. Why risk so much?

#1 Maurice Estlebraun the Gunpriest

| November 1, 2010 | 0 Comments

The air in the room hung low overhead, musty and thick like the grey grasping plumes of smoke at the Olde Sanctuary once did years earlier in celebration of a successful exorcism.

“A simpler time,” thought Maurice as he lifted the remains of the body slightly with the barrel of his abnormally long pistol.  A dry, black arm crumbled off at the joint with the small movement, settling on the smooth pavement below without sound. Small flecks of previously pink flesh darted upward from the resulting breeze, glad to be free of the charred husk. The smell that wafted into Maurice’s nostrils would make any lesser man cringe and wretch. There was something oddly familiar about this unidentifiable and burned corpse. He thought of flowers.

Maurice Estlebraun stroked his thick brown mustache outward in thought using his thumb and forefinger, surveying the scene. He had an intense face, a brow perpetually furrowed and a mouth like a razor’s cut, thin and sharp. His hair had gone years ago, even before he was consecrated. He wore the garb of the Gunpriests, white and red robes atop hinges and clasps of dull steel and worn leather.

As a Gunpriest of the Unified Church-States of the Judeo-Christian Order proper for the better half of his 39 years, Maurice had seen and smelled horrors such as this many times before. His Brothers in training at the Olde Sanctuary had told him stories… self-impalements, self-flayings, self-incinerations. The Demonkind would use these displays of mutilation as demoralizing examples, shock and awe. It is the first known instance of the Hellhounds’ adaptation of human combat tactics since the war began. It seemed so long ago now, so many lost and missing months as the fight spiraled into wanton destruction. So very many days in service to the Lord and his herd, so many hours since he had breathed in the hint of jasmine in her hair.

With an exhalation, Maurice grimly rose from his kneeled position and holstered his Crucifixion Device, the smooth golden hilt felt familiar as it slid down his palm and into its leather cradle. He closed his eyes and muttered a short prayersong for the deceased. Afterward his eye caught a glint in the death that laid before him.

A jolt of electricity shot from his gut to his throat.

Reluctantly reaching back down, he pulled the shining bauble closer to his face: a silver cross, its perfection starkly contrasting with the morbid surroundings of the cellar. Along the side, an engraving.

It read, “To my Rose: God is with you, even though I am not. I love you. -Maurice.”

The cross clanged as it hit the cold ground, a mark left on its face, never again the same.


#1 Gerard (Jerry) Lynch

| November 1, 2010 | 0 Comments

In the not-very-distant future, the human race is on the run from an extra-planar invasion force. About ten years ago, the demons broke through from their own universe to our own. Technically, they’re not ‘demons’, but they bear enough superficial similarities that a majority of the remaining humans simply call them that. They are, technically a single race. Or, rather, were a single race. They diverged evolutionarily to fulfill specific niches on their impossibly harsh home-world, forming a number of castes that have learned to work together to further their current goal of subjecting the human race. The demons are ridiculously evolved. The harsh environment of their home-world and the constant infighting of the castes has pushed the demons into an evolutionary arms race with one another, creating the incredibly powerful monsters that now rampage. The demons, however, have a weakness. Ultraviolet light is extremely damaging to them. Unfortunately, their skins are strong enough to withstand the light for short time, or long periods of low exposure. A high-powered UV lamp will burn them almost immediately, but the damage will be skin-deep without exposing them for upwards of thirty seconds for the smallest, ranging up to three minutes for some of the bigger ones. The solution to this is that once the skin is pierced, the UV radiation can be applied to the more sensitive flesh, reducing the demons’ affected tissues to their carbon base. The resistance continues to fight the demons, though the demons have, so far, been successful and taking out resistance groups that grow large enough to pose a threat.

Modded human. Before the demonic invasion, humankind had grown bored. One of the most popular trends was gene-modding, a practice that involved altering one’s genetic structure to make yourself better or more interesting in some way. Most are superficial things, altering the color of one’s hair or eyes, though some go more in-depth. Gerard got three main modifications. One was a external mod that gave him his signature pink hair. Another was more in depth, altering his bone structures to start building carbon deposits, reinforcing themselves. The third involved getting a tiny processor wired into his brain, then co-opting the nerves that ran to his fingernails and replacing the nails altogether with highly conductive silver plates. This allowed him to jam his fingernails into any USB port to interface directly with the computer. Using this allowed him to forgo using keyboards and communicate his thoughts directly to the computer.

Gerard is an extremely toned not-quite-muscular man, about 26 years old. His pink hair is trimmed into a military buzz cut and his face is lean. He has gray eyes, a common side effect of the gene-modding, and his fingernails are metallic silver. His nose is slightly crooked, an incorrect heal from before the invasion. He used to have a number of facial peircings, though they’ve healed over since he stopped wearing them.

Gerard’s prize piece of gear is Behrtgar, his Trident-class cavalry vehicle. It resembles a motorcycle to a degree,  mostly in it’s narrowness and low profile shape. It has eight wheels, two next to each other on each of four struts that can raise or lower the vehicle‘s body or spread out to resist rollovers. A skilled rider can use the struts to jump his vehicle over short obstacles, or to ‘pounce‘ into combat. based on the situation . The wheels are heavily reinforced and puncture-resistant, allowing the trident cavalry vehicle to drive over virtually any surface without worrying about punctures. A lucky blow for a demon could still take out a tire, however, which is why there are two on each strut. The entire top of the vehicle is a streamlined, armored shell that protects the driver, who lays on his stomach, his body about level with the top of the wheels. It folds up to allow the rider to enter and exit the vehicle. The main weapon of the trident-class cavalry vehicle is it’s signature trident, a trio of penetrator lances that retract into the undercarriage when not in use. When deployed, the lances jut forward past the wheels a good four feet. Each lance is an eight-foot spear of reinforced steel with a hardened tip. The first foot of the lance is marked by four separate inch-wide bands of clear reinforced glass. When the tip is fully embedded in a target, a UV flash bulb goes off at the base of the lance, delivering massive amounts of UV radiation deep into the demon’s vulnerable flesh. A direct hit with the trident is a sure kill on most demons, though some of the largest demons commonly seen will survive it. On titan-class demons or larger, two or three tridents working in tandem are usually enough to bring them down. The Trident is also equipped with ten high-powered UV lamps. Four forward mounted, two mounted sideways, two vertical and two rear-facing. The Trident is also equipped with twin grappling spike launchers which are each capable of hauling the trident and rider vertically without support. Gerard’s is modified with a interface port that allows him to control the vehicle’s features as though they were an extension of his own body.

The second piece of equipment he most treasures is his Longshot rifle, a high-powered long-range rifle equipped with a scope and laser sight. The Longshot fires illuminator rounds, which function much like the penetrator lances, although significantly weaker. The transparent round penetrates the demon’s UV-resistant hide and emits a UV flash that deals massive internal damage to the demons. The rifle allows Gerard to take care of long-range targets and flying foes, while the trident’s lances deliver devastating melee damage to large, heavily armored foes.

Some other pieces of gear include a heavy pistol that fires illuminator rounds. It also has a mounted full-spectrum flashlight. The pistol is mostly used for close-range combat, taking out smaller, faster demons than he can hit with his lances. He also carries with him a first-aid kit, some UV flash-bang grenades, and some personal body armor, including a steel-plated motorcycle helmet, a keeled tempered steel breastplate over a ceramic-and-kevlar scale vest.

Gerard was something of a wild child before the invasion. Very anti-authority and out to do his own thing. Since the invasion, the resistance has taken care of him. He still retains a highly independent outlook on how to do things, but he has developed a healthy respect for the rules and those in charge. Mostly, he simply realizes that if he was trying to take on the demons alone, he’d be long-dead, but there’s a respect in there buried under his backtalk and bravado. He knows he’s not a leader, he’s just a very effective follower.


Gerard was born to an upper-middle class family in the suburbs of Chicago. At a young age, he was much like the other kids. However, the teenage years came early two him, and thirteen-year-old Gerard quickly became ‘Jerry’. He started listening to louder and more violent music, screaming at his parents and defying authority in every method available to a thirteen-year-old suburbanite. He got Gene-modded on his fifteenth birthday, gaining both his signature pink locks and the extremely useful silver nails and microprocessor. By the time of the invasion, he was starting his own rock band.

The invasion was incredibly fast. It was on the news on Monday and by Friday only the major cities were safe anymore. The daytime was okay, because the sunlight burned the demons, but once night fell, you could hear the firefights in the streets. Jerry was in a shelter after the initial air-raids of the demon armies made the suburbs unlivable.

He and his buddies were, of course, not pleased by the demons’ invasion and, despite the warnings of the military and national guard telling them to stay inside at night, Jerry joined into a small mob of angry citizens, eager to bust open some demon skulls. They didn’t know yet just how powerful the demons could be if you weren’t prepared. When they encountered a Fiend-class demon, the mob attacked with pipes, knives, and molotovs. The demon seemed to take no notice of their attacks as he tore through the ranks of them like a lawnmower. Dozens died within seconds of engaging the demon. Jerry himself caught a almost-mortal wound in the process. The military managed to take out the demon before it could finish the job, thankfully, and Jerry managed to get treatment.

Once he was better, the invasion had pretty much wiped out the formal military presence. He joined the resistance quickly, eager to prove himself against the demons. Over the next ten years, he rose through the ranks of the resistance, earning himself the status required to have all the custom equipment he wanted.

Gerard’s desires are pretty simple on the surface. He wants to see the demons removed from the planet and see Chicago back to it’s former self. However, deeper down, Gerard secretly enjoys this life. He’s respected, he makes a difference, and deep down, killing demons satisfies some urge deep inside, a warrior’s drive.

Gerard has been serving the resistance for a long time and has seen a great many demons. But he’s heard tales that the demons he sees  are just the tip of the iceberg. Tales that tell of massive subterranean demon cities. Tales of what lies on the other side of the demon’s portal, demons too large to even fit through. Tales of strange devices being created by the demons, devices made to blot out the sun, or turn the earth into a caricature of their home-world.


Gerard’s secret is that, sometimes, he realizes how much he likes the war and, in the deepest portions of his subconscious, wants it to keep going. If the war ends, he goes back to being a crazy punk with no future. All he knows how to do is fight.