CamiCat
Ariamis
Lonewolf685
TheWendil
mickilennial
Scrawl Banditta"Fresh meat from a fresh kill..."
Name:
Gregorovic
Title:
The Faceless One
Age:
Unknown
Gender:
Male
Allegiance:
Demons of Hell
Race:
Macabre Jester
Height:
7'01"
Weight:
97lbs
Personality:Gregorovic's personality is hard to pin down, though it's clear he has the mind of an apex predator. He has a deep cunning and generally knows more than he lets on, and seems to have deeper knowledge than most on the Nexus as a whole. He actively fights dirty and overexploits any weakness he may find, and places extremely low value on any and all life, even by the War's standards. Beyond this, very few have been around long enough to know the Faceless One. He’s a good representation of the sin of Gluttony.
History:The minute hand on the clock ticked once more, jerking the chains that bound their prisoner for the sextillionth time. Just three minutes until it happened again, a sort of ritual that occured once every six hours without fail since the last long-standing predecessor before Rufus took Hell's throne. Tens of thousands of years of monotany, broken only by the regular pained screaming of the lanky figure bound to a clock face by his wrists. There was a reason for why he was here, one the figure often mulled over in his cell at the bottom of an impossibly deep and wide pit in the furthest catacombs of Celestia.
He had been a dying man in some dimension outside the Nexus, an apothecary despirate to extend his life before his illness took him in an ironic fashion. He had imprisoned a tribe of elves known for living for thousands of years, determined to extract the secret to their longevity. After months of testing and disposing of bodies, the doctor was down to his last subject, a young and attractive female he had wanted to avoid testing on from the start. Unfortunately, in his bid to save himself, this is what it came down to.
The clock ticked. Two minutes.
He opened the cage with trembling hands and roughly grabbed her by the arm, taking her to a bloodied table that had seen much use over the last few fortnights. He laid her down, surprised by her lack of protest, yet totally unempathetic. He tied her in, aged hands clasping leather bindings around young wrists. She was perfectly steady, almost accepting her fate. The man pulled an anatomy chart and several surgical tools from under the table.
The clock ticked. One minute.
He gave up on science. He turned to the supernatural. He visited the Barrows, the collective tomb of six brothers turned into wights by an otherworldly mage. There, he sought out the mage, and offered himself and his loyalty in exchange for eternal life. The mage accepted the offer and killed the man, gifting his spirit the body of a macabre jester, and a set of instructions: "This body will never die a natural death, though it must consume others to survive, and will become more powerful as it does so."
Disgusted, yet grateful, the man bowed his thanks to his new master before setting off. He was now a terror of the night, a beast with no other motivation than to grow its own power. And that's exactly what it did, never changing form but growing more malicious by the day.
Thousands of years passed before two beings were left in the dimension: The man, and the mage. The mage knew his mistake now, there was nothing holding the man to him anymore. The need to consume had outweighed his loyalty bound by blood, and that meant he was the last one on the list. As he tired from his concealment of himself, the mage thought himself safe enough to sleep for one night in the empty universe.
He was wrong, the man found him within minutes and finished him off.
As the only one left in the dimension, it felt strange when he felt something pull at him. But before he register what was happ-
The clock ticked. The ritual began.
…
Except it didn't. No hooks shot into his abdomen, no knives sliced him open, not even the axe-wielding puppet came to cut his head in two. For no reason he could find, the chains that bound him to the hands of the clock went slack, and he found himself able to move freely for the first time in forever. It took him a moment, though his mouth split wide open into a smile to show off a full set of thin, needle-like teeth. The curved slits in his face for eyes briefly flashed a dull gold and chuckle started. It rose rapidly into a shrill laughter, piercing the eternal silence Gregorovic had lived in.
The Nexus was about to become a lot emptier…
Powers:Gluttony – Consuming living things adds to Gregorovic’s overall power.
Golden Eyes – Eyes of Destruction, turning the Nexus into a plaything waiting to be torn apart.
Limber – Blunt weapons from any faction do reduced damage.
Dexterity – Significantly boosts anything related to agility, including jumping and reaction time.
Advanced Regeneration – Rapidly regenerates damage done to him if not attacked for a moderate period of time.
Shadow Walk – Enables faster movement and short-range teleportation while obscured in darkness.
Blindspot - Allows the creation of short-ranged portals, ideally used for combat purposes.
Weapons:Shadow Glaives – A matched pair of mechanical glaives, enchanted to return to their owner after being thrown and capable of spinning at break-neck speeds. Their blades are capable of poisoning anything not venom-resistant should they break skin.
Trick Knife – A shadowy knife that, when thrown, bounces between enemies up to three times before returning to its owner.
Equipment:Macabre Jester’s Body – The body of a late macabre jester, surprisingly durable and expectantly fast and flexible, to the point of positions that should be crippling becoming possible.
Macabre Mask – A hardened mask, enchanted to act as a face. It is highly resistant to most forms of attack, essentially a stud in a wall.
@TheWindel@KoL
Here he be, add Greg to the list of underwhelming Demon names.
@TheWindel
Someone's really intent on pleasing (or ripping off) you here, uh? I'll let this judgment up to you since it was fun enough just to read this.
