Forsaken Vow
From Unofficial Handbook of the Virtue Universe
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| Any soul can be brought to penance through pain. | |
| Forsaken Vow | |
| Player: @Gravewhisper | |
| Origin: | Magic |
|---|---|
| Archetype: | Brute |
| Security Level: | 50 |
| Personal Data | |
| Real Name: | Valriel Shattermoon |
| Known Aliases: | Regent, Valeria the Betrayer |
| Species: | Infernal Construct |
| Age: | 433 |
| Height: | 5'5" |
| Weight: | 130 |
| Eye Color: | Blue |
| Hair Color: | White |
| Biographical Data | |
| Nationality: | Shadosian |
| Occupation: | Mage Hunter |
| Place of Birth: | Evanth Village, Shados Empire |
| Base of Operations: | None |
| Marital Status: | Single |
| Known Relatives: | None Known. |
| Known Powers | |
| Enhanced Regeneration, Unbreakable Will, Control of the Deep | |
| Known Abilities | |
| Fencing Mastery. Acrobatics. | |
| Equipment | |
| Hell-forged dual swords. | |
| Footnotes | |
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"The depths of Hades were created to house the first traitors in history--those among the Glorious Hosts that refused to obey the Holy Powers at the creation of mortals. Many souls call this realm of punishment their prison for different reasons. From demons to Condemned mortals, each have been cast out by their respective creators for some reason. It is a place created to house those that have sinned beyond any chance of pardon or redemption..."
~The Divine Plan, The Role of Hades
She exists as an example to those that would turn to darker powers to cheat their role in life. A slave in her former life, the one hat would become known as Forsaken Vow sought to rise above her humble origins. Courting favor with the Infernal Powers, she carved out a power base that would lead to her ascent within the Shados Empire. As Empress, she founded a nation built on the blood of sacrifices and broken souls fed to the Demon Lords. Through her leadership, a nation fell into a dark age where the bonds of family and friendship were cast aside. The pursuit of power came at the expense of what one was willing to sell for it.
Her story within CoH/V begins after she has endured the punishments for her crimes within Hades. After slowly coming to repent for her past life, she has been reformed into a new life. Cast beyond any chance of a pardon of the Powers she betrayed, she has been left with one option to try and prevent others from repeating her her former mistakes.
By daylight's hours, she serves her sentence within the Infernal realms ever reminded of the sins she has committed in her past...
By moon's light, she spends the time she is allotted within the mortal world attempting to combat the spread of infernal corruption that threatens the balance of the Divine Plan...
Forsaken Vow is a reroll of a background of a Brute that is played in CoV. My goal was to do something a bit different than a vengeful demon bent on world domination. Her story holds strong levels of angst and is a mature 'RP' concept. The character is a firm believer that she has lost the right to self-pity and feels that her past merits little sympathy for her current state. She has been created as a crusader determined to ensure no one else has to experience her sentence.
Contents |
Visage of the Fallen (Appearance)
Her appearance has been crafted to create a physical representation of the corruption that she brought upon her soul through her use of the dark arts during her life. She appears as a humanoid female that has been carved out of an organic black marble. Veins and runes of glowing blue energy run through her flesh as an outward reflection of the infernal power that has been poured into her transformation over the centuries. In order to keep a 'human-like' quality in an inhuman creation, Arguile also included a shock of white hair that flows to her shoulders unbound. Her 'flesh' has an organic feel and does not affect her sense of touch. The black essence carries a dull sheen that runs unmarred over her form, except for thin scars from Shaldor's whip, Tearbringer, that lace her back.
Legacy of Sin (Personality)
In her former life, Valeril had been known as an arrogant woman with little regard for those beneath her. Her leadership style was hallmarked by her ruthless nature and deceptive means. People of use were drawn close and given the illusion of a 'friendship' in order to make use of their skills for her schemes for her empire. Once these advisers or servants had ran their use, she would have them disposed of as sacrifices on the altars that had come to span the nation. Her liberal use of demon pacts and dark arts had corrupted her morality beyond the point of remorse by the end of her lifetime as a mortal.
Sense her existence as a Condemned, her personality has been completely reworked at the whim of her master. After the alterations of her mind, the callous veil that had built over her conscious was stripped away. She was left to face the weight of her sins with a fresh sense of morality. The loss of this buffer also removed the trait of the mortal mind to cope and slowly come to terms with painful memories. This has left her with a sense of remorse she is unable to come to terms with on an emotional level. It has also made her emotions more sensitive to reminders of her past and the pain of her punishments within Hades.
Her overall persona is one of a humbled penitent that wishes to make up for their crimes. This desire, however, is a remorse that was created by her master's alterations and a desire to escape her punishments. Due to this factor, she lives with the realization that she is unable to find true release due to the nature of her repentance being from her construct nature. A drive has been instilled within her, however, to be unable to break under her pain and forced to face each day with a renewed resolve.
The Confession (History)
Fall of the Empress
Under the rule of the Cursed Empress, a new state-religion had begun to rule the lands of Shaldos. The ancient gods had been challenged during her rule and their priests had been hunted to the brink of extinction. The Blood Crusade had been created from her must dedicated soldiers to seek and purifier the heretics that represented the old order. In her decrees, the Shaldos had been a defeated people due to their commitment to weak gods that held no interest in their people other than an interest in blind devotion. The ancient temples had been destroyed and new, unholy creations forged of a strange blood-red marble had been raised. The new source of 'holy' power were now the Demon Lords that had been the source behind the Empress' ascent to power and conquest over her enemies.
Valriel Shattermoon stood at the altar that dominated the open city square before the Imperial Palace. The altar had been carved from the unholy marble and designed to grant a sadistic efficiency to the sacrifices that were offered on the new 'holy' days that she had decreed. The stone table was worked in the form of an elegant t-shape. Polished silver manacles were arranged to allow for the wrists, ankles, and neck of its victims to be held secure while they were prepared for their role within the ceremony—sacrifice. Rivets had been etched into the stone to allow for the blood to be captured easily and channeled into a hole at the end of the altar that fed into an underground chamber. This captured blood contained the essence of the temple's tortured victims allowing it to feed the Lords that had used the Empress to craft an entire nation built simply to feed their ever-building hunger for suffering.
The Empress stood quietly as she watched the gathering of citizens below in the square. A quiet satisfaction filled her as she reflected on the power she had achieved. She had begun her life as a slave within the palace. Those she served had built their mighty empire upon the backs of those they had captured. Her own family had descended from the defeated royalty of one of the ancient nations that had been subdued. As an example to future enemies, her ancestor and his descendants had been sentenced to scrubbing floors of their masters. Valeria had spent her days learning to hate her family's conquerors and the injustices visited upon their enslaved people in the view of an 'enlightened' new society.
In the ancient passages under the city, she had found her road to revenge. Seeking power to overcome the rulers of Shaldos, she had made pacts with the ancient powers the gods of the Empire were said to have imprisoned beyond time itself. Through quiet plotting, she had ensured the aid of the Infernal Hosts to see the downfall of the Imperial Family. Within a day, she had gained control of Shaldos and released a religion that preached power through sacrifice and defeat of one's enemies. Slavery was outlawed and the people of the Empire were declared equals—citizens of the new Holy Empire under her rule. Those who opposed the new order that she offered and convicted criminals were given one sentence under the law—sacrifice to the Demon Lords.
One of the priests of her order stepped forward on an balcony to begin to read the name of the first sacrifice to be offered on the pristine morning. The name was that of a priestess that had been discovered to be a heretic. Despite her vows to promote the rule of the Demon Lords that had liberated the Empire, she had been discovered to be devoted to the ancient gods. Valriel smiled darkly as she turned towards the stairs that led from the dungeons that held the condemned. Armored crusaders of the Blood Crusade had appeared guiding a dark-haired woman dressed in the shreds of her priestly vestments. Her form bore the marks from her sessions that had extracted her Confession of her sins. The sentence had been quickly delivered, to be offered to those she had betrayed by breaking her vows. Valriel had taken great pleasure in deciding what fate would await the fallen prietess in the afterlife after her soul had been freed from its mortal coil.
Valriel drifted towards the table that sat next to the altar. She drew the silken cover from the surface revealing the various knives used in the sacrifice of a condemned soul. A smile crossed her features as she watched her victim shiver at the sight of the implements. Without a word, she nodded towards the altar for the guards to secure the prisoner. She turned her back as she looked over the tools to decide how to offer this newest soul to the darkness.
The Empress rested her hand on one of the knives as she listened to the struggle between the guards and the former priestess behind her. She continued to smile as she attempted to close her hands around the handle of the selected dagger. Her dark mirth was cut short, however, when she found herself unable to pick it up. Words forming a binding spell suddenly came from the priestess behind her the Empress watched glyphs form on her flesh. Fear began to well up within her as she recognize the spell as one used by her demonologists to secure a victim for sacrifice. Frozen in place, Valriel was unable to move as she felt armored hands close over her upper arms. Her own crusaders began to draw her roughly from the table of knives.
“Your own teachings claim we can gain power through sacrifice and strength over our enemies,” a familiar voice said.
Valriel found herself turned to face the prisoner that no longer displayed any fear of her. A shiver ran through the Empress as she was drawn towards the alter herself. The binding prevented her from fighting the traitors that laid her on the altar in the place of the intended sacrifice. As the guards withdrew, the priestess gently drew her wrists to the manacles and began to secure the Empress. A quiet hush fell over the square as the realization that the intended 'festivities' had been changed by the guards and the prisoner. The fear began to build to terror as Valeria realized that no one was making a move to stop the sequence of events that were now unfolding.
The priestess moved from the altar and traced her fingers over the sacrificial daggers. Her spell continued to render the Empress silent as the priestess spoke, “Your empire was built on a blood pact with the demons. Over the years, you have bound and enslaved them to your desires. Your disdain and betrayal of your pacts have caught up with you, Empress. The darkness is tired of you skipping out on your obligations. So, I was offered a deal I could not refuse as they say.
“I was offered the power to bring your reign of terror down in exchange for my soul. One soul to pay for the freedom of thousands that you have destroyed in your rule over us. I am to be the instrument of just punishment that will soon be yours in the darkness. You will no longer harm those that oppose you. By offering you, we free the Empire from the Demon Lords and restore the old gods.”
Valeria attempted to fight at her shackles, but the binding continued to hold her as the priestess moved back to the altar. There was no joy in the former sacrifice's eyes as she gently undid the clasps that held the Empress' robes closed over her chest. She carefully exposed the Empress' chest allowing only the flesh over her heart to be exposed. The priestess gently traced the area over her heart and then drew her nail lightly over an area just beside it, “Nothing too quick, it was agreed. They wish you to know the pain of your victims. You are to die the traitor's death, Valriel.”
The Empress looked at the priestess in stark terror as she watched her life come full circle. The woman turned and drew back a black cloth on the table of knives. Beneath it, a dagger of sparkling crystal was revealed in the sunlight. A smokey liquid filled the hollow of the dagger. Without another word, the priestess lifted the dagger and stepped back to the altar where the sacrifice awaited her. She rested the tip of the dagger lightly on the Empress' chest. The dagger was aimed to enter just short of hitting the heart.
“Valriel Shattermoon, Cursed Empress, Corruptor of Shaldos, you are condemned to death for the crimes of high treason, heresy, murder, and betrayal of your people,” the priestess called out as she held the dagger steady. “You are condemned to the traitor's death. Your life is forfeit for your crimes. It is the judgment of the Holy Powers that your soul be cursed among the ranks of the Unforgiven and beyond pardon.”
There was a short pause to allow the captive Empress to absorb what had just been said. Before she had any time to consider a way out of her situation, the dagger entered her chest allowing the poison in it's hollow to enter her blood with a cold chill. Agony suddenly wracked her body as the poison began to slowly turn her blood to acid. The priestess allowed the poison to fully enter the Empress as she turned and set the dagger aside. She turned away from the Empress and allowed the bindings to disappear from Valriel.
Without another look towards the suffering creature bound to the altar, the guard departed with the priestess to allow the sentence to be served. A condemned traitor was left to alone to face their doom. As the group that had served as the executioners left the public altar, a cry of suffering echoed through the square from the doomed Empress. Unlike others that had faced their deaths to the sympathy of those that looked on, the public square surrounding Valriel's execution site was empty by the time she had passed away.
The Realm of Traitors
The agony of the poison that had transformed her blood to acid had faded away as she had met her death on her own altar in the city. Valriel awakened from the death sleep that had taken her to a world that seemed distorted. She attempted to move and get her bearings, but her limbs did not respond. A bone chill cold suddenly ran through her body as she realized she had been frozen in a wall of solid ice. Her body had been captured in a moment of what appeared to be contortions of agony from her mortal death. The chamber beyond her icy prison was distorted through the frozen wall rendering those moving past her as laughing mockeries of what should have been their true forms. As she tried to move out of reflex once more, she suddenly felt the crushing weight of the icy wall that held her frozen in place.
As she tried to figure out where she was trapped at, her mind began to wander uncontrollably to her past life she had just left. Her thoughts began to slip out of her control forcing her to replay her litany of sins and betrayals of others. Valeria began to witness the hundreds of sacrifices she had performed over the years. But, instead of being the one to deliver the deathblow, she found herself strapped to the altar in each case. The condemned soul found herself dying hundreds of deaths each moment she was trapped in the ice forced to relive the last moments of her victims. She could hear herself rendering verdicts on souls—many who were guilty of no more than wishing to not follow her empire into darkness. Hundreds of innocents, pious priests of the old gods...
Valriel found herself attempting to scream out in rage and anguish in her torment. But, the ice silenced each attempt to cry for help or curse her tormentors. She quickly lost track of time as she found herself frozen over and over again by the ice as she endured her endless torment. The slow punishment brought with it the realization she had been cast into the depths of Hades. As a traitor and demonologist, she had been judged to the lowest level of the Ninth Circle. Within the last circle, she was among those completely frozen in the ice in this place furthermost removed from the light of the Holy Powers. This was a place for the lowest of sinners and basest of criminals to slowly suffer their eternity frozen in place, never to have contact with another for the rest of their days.
The Condemned within Hades often reacted to their eternal punishments in one of two ways—wallowing in eternal guilt that would never be forgiven, or consumed in rage at what they considered an unjust end. Valriel summoned what strength remained after the horrors she had been forced to witness and lashed out with her soul. She had sought to share her rage at the betrayal by the Demon Lords and her place as nothing more than a tortured soul. The soul held little hope that anyone would take notice or care about her defense of why she should be more than a creature meant to suffer.
As her visions continued to hold, she sharpened her anger as she continued to lash out at any that might walk by her frozen tomb. The pain she endured continued to fuel those attempted attacks. Overtime, she was having trouble separating the reality of her prison and the deaths she was condemned to endure over and over. Time had lost any meaning by the the time one such attempt to lash out struck a figure she was dimly aware of moving past the frozen wall. The fact that she had actually made contact with anything past the ice was lost on her until the figure stopped beside her frozen form. For a moment, she began to dismiss the idea of anything taking note of her as a far-fetched fantasy in this place. But, her dull awareness suddenly flared to life.
Invisible claws suddenly lashed into her very being and latched onto something that seemed to make up her very identity itself. Terror ran through her as an ice that made her prison seem a paradise rushed through her body causing her to try and scream. Her prison kept her silent and unable to fight as the claws dug into her spirit deeper. Chilling words seemed to ring through her, “You are Condemned to this place to be punished for your sins, traitor. You are the one that committed your crimes. You must pay the price for your base nature. Here, in the lowest level, under the harshest punishments, you refuse still to repent for your crimes, it seems. Is it possible, this sentence is not hard enough?”
Valriel trembled at the very idea that there was a punishment worse than what she already endured. Her anger broke quickly as she found herself begging, “Please! Don't make this any worse!”
The claws twisted once more as the speaker offered hints that there were fates worse than those reserved for those mortal souls that were punished here, “This is the lowest level that offers even a hint that you may find a reprieve one day from your sorrows, traitor. But, if after all this time, you refuse to repent, then even the harshest punishment for mortals is not enough for you.”
“No, please! I'll pay my sentence!”
She could hear a chuckle from the thing that held her soul captive on its claws. It twisted its grip slightly causing her to mentally shriek once more. After a moment of silence, it dug deeper into the eyes as it seemed to make sure it had wrapped its claws around the very essence of her being, “You've decided that this is not enough for you. You're the one that thinks we should be harder on you. There is no more mercy for you. You've disfigured your soul beyond anything mortal.”
Before the Condemned soul could reply, she felt her very mind shredded as the claws ripped a portion of the ice away from the wall. Screams of pain came from the shard of ice that had ripped from the prison. The creature once known as Valriel had been stripped of the shell of her former being leaving nothing more than a shard of a soul. The intense pain of having her being shredded had driven her beyond any awareness of being carried away from her prison.
Remorse
Within the depths of Hades, a caste system existed among the demons and souls condemned to its depths. At the top of the system, the demons that ruled the depths ensured those below them suffered according to their caste. Below the demons were the Condemned souls, mortals cast into the depths to pay for their sins in life. Even the lowest of these unfortunates held a glimmer of grace that one day there could be a pardon from the darkness. As unlikely as that hope was, it was what separated them from those were just a step below them—the lowest of the low.
At the bottom of that caste system existed Condemned souls that had been given a new form. These creatures were once mortals that had been found beyond even the punishments of Hades. Stripped of mortal grace and form, the remains of their souls were infused into new forums crafted by their tormentors. These constructs were Condemned that were judged beyond any chance of remorse and given new punishments that far out-rivaled their suffering in the Circles that held their fellow prisoners.
Each construct was given a form at the whim of the demon that was their master. Forms could range from cursed trees to formless pools of liquid that littered the floors of Hades. On the level of the Ninth Circle, an arena had been carved from the ice by the Arch-Duke known as Arguile the Torturer. Those that had been judged too hardened for even the ice of the frozen layer of traitors were given into his care. Their fate was to exist as slaves that suffered for his amusement. Each construct knew that not a single one among them was innocent of their crimes, for the demon lord had taken care to ensure only those that had sinned endured the punishments he had to offer his charges.
Within the Arena chamber, each of the Condemned constructs that he had reworked had taken their places along the far edge of the arena. A special 'shelf' had been set aside for the creatures to prostrate themselves so they could witness their peers as they fought their matches for the entertainment of their master and his guests. Among the prostrate slaves, a construct that had once held the name of Valriel quietly kept her face lowered to the stone floor. Like others taken from the icy walls of this Circle, she had been judged beyond the punishments she had been given. Ripped from her tomb, she had been taken as a shell of her former being. A new body that resembled a humanoid female had been made for her from the black bedrock that made up the floor of her new home. The ice taken from her prison had become her new 'blood' that had been poured into the new form. The black marble was shot with glowing veins of unholy blue that reflected she had been forged from ranks of the damned souls—not to be mistakened in any form for one of Hades' own.
Over a period of time, her new master had slowly reworked her body, mind, and soul into a lesser form bent on maximizing her torment. She was now clearly aware of her sins as the one known as Valriel. Her mind had been altered to keep her from being able to cope with her new found guilt. The one token that each of her fellow slaves were given to their former forms was the ability to weep. Between the icy cold that made up her being, the pain of her torments, and knowledge her guilt could never be forgiven—she held her share of tears that even now wet the floor before her. As if to show that her remorse was hollow and forced, the stone floor below her absorbed her tears as quickly as they were shed.
Arguile entered the chamber and sank into his throne. He smiled quietly as he surveyed the collection of constructs that awaited his commands. Each lived in a state of terror that he would select one of them for personal attention to ensure they were serving the full measure of their sentence. Over his time within the depths, he had taken great pains to ensure that when a construct thought their situation couldn't get worse, he found ways to prove them wrong. In the case of one of them, he had found a way to ensure just that for them.
“Valriel, present yourself.”
Just hearing their former name was painful for them. Constructs sought to forget their sinful pasts, but such release always denied. Valriel slipped from where she had been and obeyed his order. As much as they feared and hated Arguile, it was part of their base make-up to ensure he was pleased with their obedience. She moved to the center of the arena and noticed that another figure had entered the same level. Another construct moved to where she had stopped. A heart wrenching cry escaped Valriel as she recognized the creature immediately. The construct was the reworked form of the priestess that had sold her soul to find a way to end Valriel corruption of the Empire. To see one of her former victims in such a state nearly sent her to her knees in grief.
Before she could try to beg forgiveness as was her nature now, Valriel found herself suddenly confused as the other construct shook her head. The new arrival glanced above them as a long chain was lowered to their level. The former priestess looked towards Valriel, “Bind yourself.”
The Condemned knew immediately that the priestess was no mere construct. Her orders held the force that required her to obey Arguile when she was given instructions. She lowered her gaze as she looked towards the shackles. Without a word, she secured her wrists into the shackles and stood quietly. The chain jerked rougly upwards causing her wrists to be raised above her head securing her in place.
Arguile chuckled at her obedience to the new arrival, “You never did learn her name did you? One of many you were cruel to in your former life. It is people such as her that are the reason you are in your current state. You have only yourself to blame, Valriel. She is now called Hardith. She is one of those that has chosen to dwell here to ensure harden souls such as yourself receive their just due. This is not revenge for her, she is simply ensuring you endure everything that you visited upon others in your former life.”
Before Valriel could reply to the demon's words, a stripe of pain crossed her back. A second stripe of agony laced her back causing her to suddenly began to relive several of her past sins. While each memory seemed to last hours, the whip that Hardith wielded fell quickly forcing the succession of memories. All the Condemned could do was hang from her chains and weep at the punishment she was suddenly given. One alteration that she had been given was that any lash from Arguile's whip would leave a scar. From the pain she felt, Valriel was sure the same applied to one that Hardith was now using.
After the pain stopped, Arguile allowed the Condemned a moment to gather her senses again. Once she looked towards him, he began to speak to her, “Your sins are the reason she has to remain here as she is now, Valriel. You were given a token of mercy many years ago that you spat upon. Now you have been reduced to the thing you are now. Do you feel your punishment is unjust?”
Tears streamed from the Condemned's eyes at the demon's words. She hung her head quietly as she sought of something to tell her tormentor. Her past answers had only ended up with her enduring some further torment after he twisted them back at her for being self-centered. Looking within herself, she could only answer what first came to her heart, “No, master.”
A silence hung in the air as Arguile regarded the tortured soul before him. He had expected some plea for mercy or other whine that he usually heard from her. The frank answer was a different shade of her, something he had not forced upon her mind to say. He studied his creation to see if there was something that needed to be altered to prevent her from finding some escape from her emotional turmoil, “Tell me why.”
Valriel looked towards Hardith and then back towards Arguile, “My sins are the reason innocents were sacrificed on the altars in the Empire. Their souls are locked here with us to suffer. My influence caused others to follow the path of making deals with demons and sending others as well.”
For a hard moment, the demon stared into the Condemned's eyes. It wasn't long before she suddenly dropped her gaze in shame from his. He continued to study her as he tapped his fingers on the arm if his throne. A part of him peered deep into her heart to ensure she was not attempting to play him with some false plea of understanding her role and fate. They had played that game before and he had allowed her to talk herself into new agonies that had been added to her already building pains. The idea that one such as herself could even view her situation with a concept of selflessness was remote as the frozen prison outside melting into a lush paradise.
“Is that the only reason for your current situation? Are those your only sins?”
A quiet sob came from the construct as she spoke clearly when she replied, “No, they are not. I'm also responsible for others falling astray that are now condemned here for following my examples.”
“Each innocent soul that is lost here, each pact made with the demon lords... these things strengthen the power of the Infernal Hosts. It makes them stronger to challenge the powers that try to guide mortals down the paths to ensure they ascend to the next life as intended by the plan,” Arguile spoke grimly. “Creatures such as yourself feed on the sheep to gain short-lived power only to find themselves suffering in chains along with them in the next life. Only after you pass on do you realize that everything you lusted for was worth nothing more than this.”
With a sigh, Arguile quietly grew bored of dealing with her repeated failures to understand. His gaze began to pass over the other constructs there that waited on their time with their tormentor. As he began to consider another target for his displeasure, he found him startled as Valriel spoke out of turn, “Master, is there anything I can do or face that can free those bound here that are innocent?”
The demon's temper flashed as he glared at the Condemned, “Why would I want to allow anything that would give you even a moment of release from your condition?”
Valriel met his gaze nervously, but she didn't look away as she tempted fate with her words, “I'm not looking for mercy, master. I'll pay my sentence as required.”
Arguile rose from his seat and continued to glare at the construct. Hints of her old arrogance sometimes flashed through the personality he had given her. When those flashes showed, she found herself undergoing another session of alterations to find the flaws in his work that allowed her to think of herself as a mortal again. As he peered into her shattered soul, he sought any hints of the thing she had once been. What he found was a penitent asking for some way to make things right, on any level possible.
“I know your remorse is hollow, Valriel,” Arguile tossed back in her face. “You only weep for your sins because you were caught and now you pay for them.”
The Condemned could not deny his words. She had only begun to feel remorse since he reworked her into her form. But, hollow or not, she could still feel it keenly, “Master, please...”
The demon looked harshly at her as the words were uttered. For a moment, he wondered if something had indeed changed in the construct's nature. A construct's overall personality was created by him, but a residual of their past remained to give them enough freewill to appreciate their fates. There was a key for each of them in their shattered forms to find some peace with themselves, but it had to be worked for. They would never be released from Hades, but there other ways the could try and exist with some of the dignity as the mortals they once were. He just never told them he had extended that mercy to each of them to find for themselves.
Arguile traced a finger along the organic stone of her face. He ran it through the tears that had stained one of her cheeks and rubbed the clear fluid between his fingers. He moved his hand once more to lift her chin sharply to force her to meet his gaze for a long moment, “There is nothing that you or anyone can do for those you cursed to this realm. They are lost.”
He waited a moment to see how she reacted to the words. The demon could sense the surge of grief that flooded her unrestricted by the veil he had ripped away from her mind. Deep within, the remains of the former mortal had indeed changed under her time in his care. But, she had fallen too far into the ranks of the Condemned for it to offer any hope of a way out for her—as it was for any construct, “But, there are other options...”
Purpose Within
“But, there are other options...”
The sounds of thunder could be heard in the distance as a storm brewed off the coast of the Rogue Isles. In her past, Valriel could remember the coming of rain seemed to bear a 'clean' scent to it. It was as if the rains would come to Shaldos and wash away the darkness and shadows that had accumulated since the last storm. But, within the heart of Recluse's web, no amount of water and blessings seemed to touch the taint that had strangled the lands.
She knelt on the roof top of one of the shattered buildings that made up the slums under Grandville. The Isles had attracted various lost souls for many reasons. Most of them sought to hide from a past gone wrong within the world of light that stretched beyond the waters that surrounded the haven of villains. Despite the collection of sinners that the area housed, she had been charged with only one specific type of target—the growing number of demonologists of late.
Years ago a pair of men had opened an ancient relic known as Pandora's Box that had released a new age upon the world's mortals. Over night, normal men and women began to wield the power of the gods. Wars quickly changed as super-powered fighters entered the world stage. Not everyone had been touched by these gifts. Envy had quickly given rise to other sources of seeking similar powers. Men of science had begun altering the base elements that made life to steal the power that the Holy Powers had gifted to those they had chosen. Hapless occultists began to follow the lure of demons seeking to build their power bases by corrupting souls in exchange for small tokens of power.
It was the later that she had been charged with seeking out. Arguile had explained the situation several months ago after she had shown some promise of reforming. While he held little love for the Holy Powers due to his own reasons, he still was committed to the balance that kept the world in check. The mortal world had been crafted as a testing ground for spirits. They lived their time and learned what was meant for them. Afterward, they passed on to whichever power was responsible for them to face either their rewards or next set of lessons. He had proven himself to be a firm believer in the divine order of things—his kind had been created to tempt mortals and to punish those that failed to learn.
Valriel opened her eyes from her memories of his explanation and looked back towards the people below her. Homeless people with little options had come to use the old slums for homes. At one time, this place had been the original buildings of Grandville. But, overtime, the sinister seat of Recluse's power had built over the bones of those he had crushed in his quest for more. Forgotten, many were desperate to seek any recourse to strike out at those who had wronged them in some way. It was here that the cultist she had followed had come to seek new 'soldiers' to feed their cause.
The dark-skinned figure allowed herself to hover and move quietly to another rooftop closer to the people below. She studied the gathering for a moment as she sought her targets. For a moment, she wondered if she had followed a false lead from her contact. She frowned for a moment until she caught the scent. A faint touch of sulfur perfumed the air causing her to narrow her eyes in response. From the far side of the gathering, a group of men dressed in garish robes dyed to resemble dried blood approached the people.
A hunger could be felt in the air as something seemed to feed the robed men power. They had traded their very hearts for a pale shadow of what their benefactor could do. But, like other demons, the creatures mortals dealt with were unable to cross over without considerable effort. It was far easier to simply corrupt a small following allow them to spread their version of cancer throughout the masses—as she had done for her original masters. Valriel released a long sigh as she watched the cultists go through a show of over-done stage ceremony.
Once the group had drawn the attention of the homeless people, the leader of the cult raised his voice, “For years, each of you have been the food that has allowed others to grow fat upon. Some of you were driven from your homes for merely being too weak in the eyes of those that feel their power is enough right to bully others. Others of you were painted as scapegoats to allow some stronger person to get ahead in their career. Now, you find yourselves without homes, your children facing uncertain futures.
“You can stay here cowering in the shadows of Recluse's empire. You can sit and watch as others continue to soar on the wings their powers have given them. Or, you can seek a new way...”
Valriel sighed as she listened to the rest of the speech. She had heard versions over it over the years of her life. Heck, she had even used some of those same lines when she had doomed the people of her old Empire. The words of such people were always fragrant, they had to be to hide the stench of the lies they covered. Such promises were the hooks that drew such people in to unknowingly feed their demon masters Arguile had put it simply. If too many of the Infernal Hosts became stronger than their place, it disrupted the order that allowed the world to remain in balance. For many of the Hosts, it was their nature to hate the Divine Plan and attempt to destroy it. For others, it was their place to attempt to keep it balanced and punish those that had squandered their place within it.
The Condemned rose slowly to her feet and stepped back along the roof she was on. With quick steps, she took a running start and jumped towards the area between the cultists and their targets. She went to a knee as she landed. Her sudden appearance and the nature of her looks sent a shock through the crowd behind her. Her construct form was a punishment, but her inhuamn appearance had its advantages. A sudden scramble came from behind her as the homeless that had gathered sought to get out of the area. Many had seen plenty of fights between supers in the Isles that often left property damaged and new patients for the hospital.
Valriel willed the swords that Arguile had given her into being. Without a further thought, she charged into the group of cultists. Despite their promises, the cultists posed very little threat. The powers that they had made their deals for were a shadow of what they had proably hoped to have gained. The three men had fallen to the ground nursing cuts she had given each to reduce their immediate threat to her or the homeless souls nearby. Her gaze went to the leader that watched her with a shocked expression—no doubt disappointed at how little he had gained for his soul.
She stepped closer towards the leader and knelt nearby. Her transformation barred her from slaying mortals—it was not her place to judge or execute. It was her place to try and stop others from following the same path of sins she had done. Her eyes met his levelly as she spoke softly, “Get out while you can. Your ambitions are trash to your masters. If you continue to try and deceive others into joining you in damnation, you will face a fate beyond death that you can never escape.”
The cultist made as if to retort to her comment, but as he continued to look into her eyes he paled. A sudden echo of the pain that the creature before him endured ran through his own soul suddenly. He scrambled back from her as he felt the wave of remorse that seemed to suddenly project from the icy construct towards him. Without a word, the cultist fell back trying to get away from the Condemned. The other two stared at their leader and then back towards the thing that had interrupted their evening. Without questioning the leader's sudden panic, the others took a quick hint and barreled down one of the broken paths through the ruins of the slums.
Valriel shook her head as she suddenly heard the storm break overhead. The rain suddenly began to fall as if the skies were weeping in sympathy with those crushed under the weight of the darkness in the Isles. She lifted her eyes towards the clouds above her. No light from the moon escaped the clouds leaving the area illuminated in the harsh light of the spotlights of the fort above. Her gaze swept back towards to rubble. The homeless that had fled still were watching her and waiting for her to leave.
Without a word towards the fearful souls nearby, Valriel slipped back into the shadows to continue her hunt for others seeking to fall down her old path.
Road to Peace (Character Stories)
(After writing the original character background, I started having ideas down the road of stories to add to continue the story through. These are being added to this section and linked to sub-pages off of Vow's entry. A short summary is included here for reference as I add them.)
False Hopes
The road to peace begins in many forms for many people. Valriel had begun to pursue the various enemies that sought to upset the ancient balance that held the powers of the Infernal Court in check. After several months in service to her master and jailer, she had begun to see the reality of humanity through the eyes of a dark avenger. But, as with any journey to learn more of one's self (even though the traveler has no idea this is their actual goal over time), one begins with faltering steps as a toddler learning to explore their world. Some learn to soar almost instantly. However, there are those so set in their ways that the journey takes more than a gentle nudge.
Infernal Construct (Powers)
Rather than a true demon, Forsaken Vow is a creature condemned to Hades for a life-time of sins. Due to her crimes, she was sentenced to the 'care' of the demon known as Arguile. Reworked from her original form, she is among those that are cursed with the dedicated, personal attention for their tormentor. Her new form has been a progressive 'masterpiece' of suffering in order to ensure a proper torment for what she has done in her past.
With the death of her physical body, her new form has been created from the black rock that makes up the the lowest levels of Hades to which she had been condemned for treason against her former emperor. Unlike the forms of fire and other combustible materials that make up most of the creatures of the Infernal realms, her 'blood' has been infused with the ice of the Ninth Circle. This circle is a realm where the souls of sinners are encased in ice for eternity. Bound by the laws that require his creations to suffer their original sentence, Arguile utilizes the eternal ice that leaves these rare constructs in a state of eternal cold.
Like her fellow slaves, Forsaken Vow has been altered on several levels. These changes are geared at ensuring the Condemned pays for their sins in life with each moment of their time in Hades. Her new form has been built to endure her punishments with considerable stamina, yet still feel the nature of the pain with more sensitivity than a mortal body. Within her mind and soul, the alterations have taken on even deeper levels that reinforce her willpower preventing her from breaking under the strain of her existence.
Physical Alterations
Hardening of the Damned
As a construct, she has been infused with the resistances found within the Infernal Hosts. She has been altered to be physically resistant to various types of damage. For the Condemned souls, this alteration allows them to endure the pain of their eternal torments for longer periods of time before requiring time to recover between sessions at their tormentors' hands. It has also allowed her to face centuries of hellish gladiator combat within the lower levels for the amusement of her masters.
Resilience of the Tortured
Intended to exist as an eternal plaything, her alterations have also included an enhanced recovery ability. Her regeneration and stamina recovery has been increased to unnatural levels. This ability allows her to recover from her tortures within the abyss quickly and to endure the powers of her enemies within the arena. Her mortal coil has been ripped away with this alteration to prevent any release that death would allow. Her body is able to regenerate to prevent it from being completely destroyed. If she has sustained heavy damage, from combat or from Infernal torment, she has shown the ability to restore herself into a physically capable state within minutes—to face another battle, or another nightmare....
Enhanced Combat Abilities
he has proven herself adept at the ability to wield dual swords and martial arts. This ability is said to be a throwback of her demonic investments gained during her mortal years which she bartered her soul to obtain. Arguile has allowed her to retain this unnatural skill due to the nature of how she gained it unfairly and to enhance her strength within the gladiatorial games she has been pitted within. In her construct state, her speed has been enhanced as well as her agility to allow her to retain a competetive edge against her enemies.
Pain Intolerance
With the death of her mortal body, her pain sense has been amplified as it affects her soul directly without her former shell to shield it. As a Condemned and a construct, her pain senses have been increased to allow even common pain to be felt on several levels. This alteration has caused her enhanced sensitivity to dull out any sense of pleasurable stimulus normally felt by the body.
Mental Alterations
Tears of the Condemned
A trait shared by all of Arguile's constructs, she has been awakened to the weight of her crimes and the repercussions to others she has wronged. This awareness is caused through the arch-duke burning away the callousness that builds up within a dark soul. This functions to expose the conscious of the fallen soul to the weight of their sins without the protective 'scarring' that forms which each sin that had been committed while living. Like her fellow slaves, she is now forced to exist with the guilt of her past and the realization that she is unable to seek a pardon from her fall due to refusing to stop of crimes while still alive. This alteration is a permanent change within the soul and mind that prevents the mind from coping with pain as it did while still alive. While a mortal is able to dull the pain of tragic memories or nightmares, one of these constructs is unable to dull such thoughts. In essence, the Condemned is unable to 'harden' themselves against pain and experiences each new pain as if it was just encountered for the first time.
Penitent's Resolve
Given the weight of the alterations and pain faced under Arguile, it was discovered his constructs would eventually break in time. In the demon's eyes, to break and feel self-pity is nothing more than a form of release from a Condemned's deserved punishments. Within each construct, a will to endure and perserve has been instilled. This will of diamond forces them to continue to fight and attempt to escape their fates. When coupled with the knowledge that this is a false hope instilled into them by their tormentor, each construct goes through the pain of breaking many times in their existence without the luxury of simply caving in under its weight as their will is refreshed just as quickly as their undying bodies.
Spiritual Alterations
Chains of the Enslaved
Despite being allowed to retain her freewill and knowledge of her state, she has been 'bound' to Arguile's will via a brand upon her soul itself. This brand has sealed her obedience and unwilling loyalty to the one that has darkened her afterlife. Despite her hate and suffering, she is forced to respond to his summons and any restrictions placed on her. This altered part of her soul craves to fulfill Arguile's commands in order to gain a kind word from her master for a job well done. This part of her is constantly at odds with her hatred of the arch-duke. This brand does not prevent her from plotting against him, but it keeps her from acting knowingly against her master.
Stripped Occult Powers
Originally an occultist of considerable power, she has been stripped of the powers she once held in life. She had once held the ability to control the powers of the sea of her former world. These powers had once been used to almost god-like strengths until she had fell to her own mortal end. In her fallen state, she has been allowed to retain a shadow of these power to call the spirits of the deep to bind her enemies for a short time to prevent them from fleeing a battle.
Shattered Veil
