Amusing as it would be to do santa the demon, I'm not sure it would work.
Form: Vaguely humanoid, but with four arms. Our limbs are each half again as long as they would be were we human, and appear to be nothing more than skin stretched too tightly over bone and tendon. Our tail ends with heavy quadruple battle-axe style blades. As mortal gaze shifts from our extremities, our form is less well defined, replaced with a slowly swirling reddish-purple vortex roughly in the shape and size of a man's torso. Our head is an undefined haze of vortex, with two points of blue fire where our eyes should be.
Our disguise requires us to crouch down and wear a hood draped over our face.
Name: Krlnkir Yrlvnt.
The village is an iron mining town in the eastern mountains. It relies entirely on food imports, which are never of enough variety nor quality.
In the village of Barsspring, a man is having nightmares. He dreams of fire. Something is burning. A house? Is he in danger? No, he is not in the fire. The fire is over there. Blue fire. He walks towards the fire- despite the terror it brings him, it lures him ever onward. Then he sees a hand, reaching out of the the fire. Two hands. A pair of hands. Wait. Four hands? A quad of hands? He reaches out for the hands.
"Are you okay?", he hears himself ask. A horrible gasping is his only reply.
Two of the hands grasp his, with a strength far beyond what their slender complexion would suggest.
He tries to pull the man(?) out of the fire. He manages to drag the stranger back a few steps, but the fire advances with them.
He manages to help the stranger to stand. The man(?) towers over him, his long thin arms leaning on him for support- his spindly legs can surely not hold the weight of... of his torso, which is... still obscured by flames?
Good gods, the stranger himself is on fire! His entire body is wreathed in flames! The man starts beating at the fire with his hands, trying to extinguish it.
"Krln" speaks the stranger.
Some of the flames go out.
"Kir" speaks the stranger.
Unfazed by the strange words, the man continues to beat out the flames. It is working; the flames are reduced in intensity.
"Yrl" speaks the stranger.
As the man continues to beat out the flames, he begins to notice something. The man's torso, previously obscured by fire, is now revealed. It is not human. The man tries to back away, but the spindly arms, which rest so lightly on his shoulders, hold him steady. The stranger gets down on his knees so that the man can extinguish the flames on his head.
"Vnt" speaks the stranger.
The final flames die. Just two remain, flickering brightly where the strangers eyes should be. The arms release the man, and he backs away. Now he can behold the figure in all its glory. Its terrifying glory. And now, the figure spreads his arms, and the vortex that is his torso swirls, parts, and reveals something... other. Something worse. Something tempting, something evil, something-
The man shocks awake. Cold water runs down his body. His wife stands over him, a bucket in her hand. He leaps up, ignoring the burns that scar his body, and grabs her hand. He looks into her eyes, sees his own terror reflected in them, and speaks:
"Krlnkir Yrlvnt!"
The wife panics. Of demons she has heard, but only in stories. Of the minds of men being assaulted she has heard, but only in stories. Of dreams so horrid that they manifest in reality she has heard, but only in stories. But now she feels it- the true terror of her world. The fact that every human spends their life ducking under the blows of the raging forces of good and evil, trying to scrape a living from the war-torn land.
And now the war has come here.
Krlnkir Yrlvnt contemplates the village below. He has dreamt of dreamers- and the dreamers have dreamt of him. He has been filled with a sense of disgust- they, a sense of terror, or possibly death. He does not know. Nor does he care.
He shall presently
-Enter the village, pretending to be a simple traveller.
-Camp outside the village, and corrupt the dreams of the inhabitants
-Camp outside the village, and sneak in at night to hunt the villagers
-Do something else.
Name: Krlnkir Yrlvnt
Physical might: 10 manpower (You are as strong as 10 (average) humans. A well trained human, with the right equipment, could best you.)
Mental might: 10 menminds (You have the mental power of 10 (average) humans. This is equivalent to a highly trained human- an archmage, or somesuch)
Followers: 0 (willing mortals- follow you in exchange for power, or for not being eaten)
Slaves: 0 (unwilling mortals- you have broken their minds, if not their bodies)
Servants: 0 (Monsters under your command- be they mutated mortals or lesser demons)
Author
Topic: Demonhood. -Slumbering for an indeterminate number of Strange Aeons- (Read 224822 times)