From Unofficial Handbook of the Virtue Universe

The stuff of nightmare is their plain bread. They butter it with pain. They set their clocks by deathwatch beetles, and thrive the centuries.

They were the men with the leather-ribbon whips who sweated up the Pyramids seasoning it with other people's salt and other people's cracked hearts.

They coursed Europe on the White Horses of the Plague. They whispered to Caesar that he was mortal, then sold daggers at half-price in the grand March sale. Some must have been lazing clowns, foot props for emperors, princes, and epileptic popes.

Then out on the road, Gypsies in time, their populations grew as the world grew, spread, and there was more delicious variety of pain to thrive on.

The train put wheels under them and here they run down the log road out of the Gothic and baroque; look at their wagons and coaches, the carving like medieval shrines, all of it stuff once drawn by horses, mules, or, maybe, men. — Ray Bradbury

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Eventually.
Zarah Neman
Player:
Origin:	Magic
Archetype:	Mastermind/Dominator/Controller/Scrapper/Blaster
Security Level:	50+
Personal Data
Real Name:	Confidential
Known Aliases:	The Three Eyed King
Species:	Shows much in common with Fae beings
Age:	Unknown
Height:	7'
Weight:	220 lbs
Eye Color:	Lapis Lazuli, although two seem to remain permanently closed.
Hair Color:	Red.
Biographical Data
Nationality:	Unknown.
Occupation:	Unknown (Salesman, Auctioneer, Artist, Inventor, Sculptor)
Place of Birth:	Unknown.
Base of Operations:	Unknown.
Marital Status:	Widower.
Known Relatives:	Squeaky Zeman, several other children.
Known Powers
Several, all keyed into fire, and cultural aspects of it.
Known Abilities
Conversation, history, art, architecture.
Equipment
A well tailored suit.
'

The entity calling itself Zarah Neman seems, perhaps unsurprisingly, to have been reborn from the remains of it's predecessor, the Narah Zeman entity.

The Tower of Eyes, or the Earliest Days

It’s wrong what they say about the past, I’ve learned, about how you can bury it. Because the past claws its way out. - The Kite Runner, Khaled Hosseini

Beyond the edges of reality and creation, there is madness and chaos. It is swirling and still, without shape, and yet, containing all shapes. It is in this sea of limitless potentiality that the thing which now calls itself Zarah Neman, or sometimes, Narah Zeman, came to be. It survived roughly, often in battle or in love or hiding from it's peers, and with time, it grew powerful. It is fitting that a being of power, then, be served by others - it stole the hearts from it's lesser peers and enslaved them, or created it's own servants. It is also fitting that when one has servants, that one also has a kingdom, and so, from the limitless seas of potentiality, it burned a sort of order into place, and crafted for itself a kingdom in which it's servants might live, and pay it respect, and things were good.

The Tower of Nightingales, or Things Become Interesting

I have drunk more blood out of gold cups than brass. - Hecate, Hellboy

Let it be known that in time, something happened. Far, far in the distance of chaos, there was stability of a kind never before seen. Great *things* moved through the chaos, swimming through the wildness like whales through the wine-dark seas. These primordials had pooled their power, and created a shiny bauble, a single grain of permanent fixity, in which they might find peace and amusement.

It was an insult that could not be countenanced. The armies of chaos swelled formlessly into a tide of malicious, destructive intent, but the primordials had crafted their trap well - upon entering reality, the seething hordes calcified and blew away upon the dust. This was Creation, and only things from within Creation could be allowed to exist there.

Let it be known, then, that the Primordials created reality. They set within it a hierarchy beneath them - a sun, and a moon, and the stars of the night sky, and beneath those celestial bodies, gods of love and war and shadow and song, elementals every shape and size, and all of it kept in proper place by the metaphysical vastness of the loom of fate. They gifted the world with strange creatures whose sole purpose was to sing hymns of glory and prayer to their makers, to be servants to the celestial bureaucracy the Primordials willed into being beneath them, to tend to the defense and maintenance of their paradise, while they plays their inscrutable pleasure games. Let is be known, also, that in time, the gods of the bureaucracy chaffed beneath their slavery. In time, they overthrew the Primordials, as Zeus overthrew Chronus, and the gods claimed the power of their makers.

All the while, the armies of chaos watched, and learned, and were delighted to see their ancient enemies devour each other.

The Tower of Widows and Barking Dogs, or What Came After

I loved something I made up, something that’s just as dead as Melly is. I made a pretty suit of clothes and fell in love with it. And when Ashley came riding along, so handsome, so different, I put that suit on him and made him wear it whether it fitted him or not. And I wouldn’t see what he really was. I kept on loving the pretty clothes — and not him at all.

- Gone with the Wind, Margaret Mitchell

"This is what I believe: That I am I. That my soul is a dark forest. That my known self will never be more than a little clearing in the forest. That gods, strange gods, come forth from the forest into the clearing of my known self, and then go back. That I must have the courage to let them come and go. That I will never let mankind put anything over me, but that I will try always to recognize and submit to the gods in me and the gods in other men and women. There is my creed.”

- D.H. Lawrence