So far: Everything about the antagonist and the story thus far...
Description of a handful of characters that have been part of this ongoing story.
This profile is not affiliated with anything Diablo, story, or character-wise. The imagery was borrowed, nothing else.
Please take a moment to read this before proceeding. I understand that not everyone may wish to scroll down to discover what is significant. However, this is intended to spare you the effort. With that being said, the material contained within this profile is violent, offensive, and dark. It may not appeal to everyone, but for those who are tolerant and open-minded, I extend a warm welcome. This profile does not represent my true self, nor does it reflect the writer's genuine intentions. It is merely a product of imagination. This has been the case for over fourteen years now. While it is not a narrative that cannot include another writer, it would simply necessitate some planning. It never hurts to inquire. I am always open to listening. Therefore, I appreciate your understanding.
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Relationship Status: Who am I... Romantic Interests... My Story... I'm never truly what I seem, a visage that is perpetually evolving. While the exterior may change, the same cannot be said for my habits, my cravings. The necessity... Do I concern myself with others' perceptions of me... no? Does it hold significance what I perceive of you... yes? Always. I extend my invitation to the resolute. The inquisitive of malevolent heart. Corrupted and with ill intentions. My doors stand open for you, and my focus is yours. Indulge in what I have to present. Or, if you so choose, linger in the shadows that will soon envelop you. Dare to grasp a stretched neck, that which belongs to me. Squeeze, sense as life ebbs away. Or so it would seem. Merely for your own entertainment. And mine, of course... Engage in a battle of wits, intellect, and if you wish, expend your strength. Deplete it if you can. Propel yourself into the arms of death. Rest for eternity with me... |
... The Tome ...
Even a Devil harbors a few secrets. Weighty with knowledge, such a treasure is meticulously safeguarded due to its dangerous contents. From how to when, even of the now...Belial, the predecessor of Janos, keeps the tome both close and distant, in order to preserve his own skin. When his adversary thinks him dead, it is from the ashes that he will rise once more. On the pages, inscribed in his own blood, he has accomplished an unimaginable feat...a pact with himself. As long as he keeps this out of reach, he will be able to commit much wickedness without facing any repercussions.
... The Writer ...
The book is designed to be held by a man, as it was authored by one. Following the command of the Devil, who whispered into the man's ear and bestowed upon him a unique ink, did he inscribe until death upon its completion? It was subsequently taken by its rightful owner.
Kraven was a simple, youthful, and modest individual, cherished by everyone in his village. However, he became the subject of scrutiny when he began to exhibit peculiar behavior, seemingly conversing with himself, at least according to the observers. The candlelight remained lit throughout the night and extended well into the morning. As days turned into weeks and weeks into months, Kraven aged and was forgotten, fulfilling the task he had been assigned.
It is said that the old, reclusive man ignited his home in a fit of madness...
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A Z M O D A N | B A A L |
AZMODAN...
Untrustworthy and perpetually suspicious. Azmodan, the brother you would never trust completely. There is a fear that he might betray you, or at the very least, that would be the simpler way to end a life without excessive bloodshed. To the right of Belial, they have maintained order among their ranks, which have diminished. While each member is accountable for their responsibilities, this has rendered them oblivious to the true events unfolding. From what can be observed, Azmodan has struggled to uncover evidence but harbors suspicions that each offense originated from within.
Although it constitutes a crime, he cannot overlook the surge in power he has experienced since the loss of seven of their own. This has left them with only three: Belial, BAAL, and himself. Azmodan has yet to confer with either of his siblings to ascertain whether they still exist or what their current state may be. Would they resemble him? Only time will reveal the answer.
Azmodan was the least favored among the circle but remained steadfast in his support of his brother Belial. They were devoted children to the Dark Mother. Yet, she never regarded him in the same light as she did Belial. BAAL, being the youngest, was coddled. Mentally unstable, Azmodan occasionally found himself looking after BAAL; one could argue that the three shared a deeper connection than the others were willing to acknowledge. There had been attempts on Azmodan's life by four of his siblings, including BAAL.
And then, it all ceased...
BAAL...
Silent yet equally lethal. It is in BAAL's vulnerabilities that one becomes overly complacent. Although the Devil may appear pitiable, BAAL is notorious for revealing a grotesque visage, sometimes in a literal manner. Known to consume the tormentor, flesh and bone alike.
Having been born with a frail physique, BAAL was cared for by the Dark Mother until that frail form transformed into one of strength. A blend of male and female, BAAL lacks a definitive gender. A cacophony of sounds emanates from the Devil, resonating as if all voices are united. It is as though two entities are speaking as one, sharing a body and a singular existence.
BAAL is inscribed from head to toe, exposed for all to witness. In contrast to their counterparts, evil is not characterized by timidity. They fully embrace their forms, yet none do this as effectively as BAAL. More human-like, akin to his mother, yet possessing enough traits to be classified as a monster. Luring various victims with a dark and peculiar allure ultimately leads to BAAL's torment and, eventually, a meal. On the brink of death, is BAAL truly invincible, with no rival?
** A former loyal servant, a non-playable character. Previously portrayed by a dear friend who has since departed from the realms, yet remains in memory. Therefore, this is my current interpretation of them. It is a segment of this continuing narrative that will persist...
In the Chambers of Torment, one would encounter him alongside his once-proud female. Overly confident yet cautious, it was not difficult to discern her true desires. However, those desires would lead to dire consequences. With the inevitable departure of his female, Meadow became available for the taking, not that it had been particularly challenging to claim him initially. It was merely a matter of charming the woman and subsequently discarding her, which made the game all the more enjoyable. A remarkable achievement, if you will...
Bestowed upon him was a scythe, which he would utilize to harvest the souls of both the unfortunate and the fortunate alike. The manner in which he executed this task was entirely at his discretion, and he did not fail to deliver. Nevertheless, there was an important detail omitted from such a responsibility. What was harvested was directly sent to the heart of that darkness, Belial himself. While it appeared that the harvested souls remained with their collectors, they were, in fact, guided to their true and unfortunate fate. This was to nourish the tome that ensures Meadow's master remains undefeated and invincible...
Black Rose, a ruler consumed by bitterness, drove his entire kingdom into despair. He was left to govern a vast, desolate empire. Unable to repel the onslaught of Demons, he succumbed. Summoned forth by his deep-seated hatred, he conjured something darker, something willing to assist him against its own kind. By relinquishing his mortal existence, he was granted eternal life and the power to combat the hordes. However, this came at a steep cost. The remnants of his citizens became his prey. His gaze soon fell upon the last of the living, his sister and her husband, who had recently welcomed a son, Santiago.
As chaos unfolded, the Vampire found himself unable to make his approach. An unseen force was repelling him. He could not discern what it was. During this time, he was being observed. From the very shadows in which he lurked. News had reached the family that a creature was hunting, its focus set on the child. They were shown how to protect themselves, ensuring that no harm would befall them. However, they were also cautioned to be wary of her brother. This was all the stranger revealed. Santiago's mother claimed to have glimpsed a flicker of a smile on the stranger's face.
A heavy burden rested upon the couple and their infant son. Thus, plans to leave the stronghold were set in motion. With a safe passage arranged, an enraged Vampire watched from his vantage point as they departed through the grand gates, shielded by the chilling winds. The reason for his compulsion to pursue them remained a mystery, even to the creature he had transformed into. The bond of family proved far stronger than that of a stranger's blood. Their blood called to the Vampire in a way unlike any other. While it initially provided amusement, circumstances shifted in accordance with the pact that had been established.
As the years go by, new concepts emerge. The Demons, however, have grown uneasy, and their confusion is palpable. A seed has been sown. They are being watched. Bodies are accumulating, and rumors suggest that the Lord of the southern stronghold is behind it all. What could a mere mortal man possibly achieve against their kind? Their leader, still skeptical, opts to observe. He waits, while his own kind become increasingly restless. A few of the Demons have managed to slip past their borders, launching a covert assault on the central stronghold. There, a group lay in ambush. Unbeknownst to the family within, these hidden figures spring into action against the Demons, revealing pale skin and sharp fangs, seemingly driven by a thirst for Demon blood.
One was permitted to flee, returning home with tales, perhaps even evidence. They intend to bring war to the Black Rose. War. The power they have acquired has transformed them into a genuine threat. They leave no room for error, attacking their own territory. Meanwhile, the Black Rose remains oblivious to these developments. Yet, he receives a visitor. He paces like a madman, struggling to comprehend the situation. His thirst drives him to madness. He realizes he cannot escape, paralyzed by cowardice, even with the power he has been granted. Consequently, he is stripped of his authority. Now, he is nothing but ash, forgotten. In his place stands another with the same visage.
The term 'Vampires' has reached the ears of the Demons. This is how they refer to the Black Rose, including the growing Santiago and his parents, though they are not what they seem. Not yet. As he matures, the boy receives visits from a man claiming to be his uncle. He urges Santiago to inform his parents about these encounters, promising to teach him how to safeguard his family. To the north, a burgeoning army of Demons poses a significant threat. With some clandestine instruction, Santiago is destined to become a crucial player in this prolonged conflict. A conflict that will extend for years. Indeed, as a young man, he significantly reduces the number of Demons invading his homeland.
His battles, however, could only be fought during the night. This was due to the strategy employed by the Demons. Once again, more falsehoods had been disseminated among their ranks, reaching the ears of their leader. On Santiago's side, his uncle had provided him with an army. These were creatures designed to obey, ready to follow Santiago's commands. The secret was that they were composed of unknown flesh, having emerged from the earth, prepared for combat. When one would fall, another would rise in its place. It was often said that their numbers doubled, yet there was never any evidence to support this claim. However, it would be during one of the battles that Santiago would sustain a mortal wound. He called out for his uncle, the only way he knew how. Santiago's call was always met with a response; just as promised, his uncle would arrive.
Power, that was what the boy sought. With his wound healed, he was presented with the same offer his uncle had received that day. Nevertheless, Santiago did not appear as weak as his uncle had been on that occasion. With that power, accompanied by a curse, he was capable of defending against overwhelming numbers, ensuring the safety of his aging parents. Witnessing their passing was heart-wrenching, yet he could not shed a single tear. Embracing this newfound resolve, he charged through a wall of Demons, heading directly for their gates. Amidst the chaos, Santiago was captured, subdued, and brought before the leader of the Demons. Appearing like a savage beast, he snapped his jaws at them. Covered in blood, they swore he bore a resemblance to a Demon.
Many eyes were fixed upon him, and hatred filled those gazes, pressing down upon him. Yet, amidst that hatred, there was a hint of curiosity. His own eyes scanned the multitude present. It was when he looked up that he encountered a pair of eyes. Captivated, Santiago realized he was not the only one gazing upon this Demon. For through his eyes, his supposed uncle also met those striking demonic eyes, seated upon his throne, biding his time. Everything seemed to come to a standstill at that moment. Sasha...
** Mistress of the narrative. Not a playable character. This character was previously portrayed by a former friend.
Looking through Santiago's eyes on that day altered everything. What had transpired previously was on the verge of occurring once more. As Santiago faced inquiries at the stronghold's threshold, Sasha, the young Demoness, observed. Her curiosity was such that it would invariably lead her into trouble. Taking care to remain unnoticed, it did little to aid Santiago, who had his own concerns. Additionally, there was another presence. She might have assumed that the shiver running through her was due to those penetrating Vampire eyes. However, the truth was that it was the darkness lurking behind them, staring directly at her. Dragged into the very depths of the mountain that constituted half of the stronghold.
Santiago was confined in a cell resembling a cage. He was held there until further instructions, and it was at that moment that Sasha seized her opportunity. Stealing a moment, she quietly slipped from her quarters, making her way down. She was cautious not to attract attention. From what she had overheard, the Demons were plotting something. She had not lingered long enough to catch all the details. Before the young Demoness could reach Santiago, someone had arrived ahead of her. Just when salvation appeared to be within reach, it was snatched away. Santiago's form was no longer present, for someone had taken his place in the cell, and the Vampire vanished into a darkness from which he would never emerge. Young Sasha approached, her footsteps careful, drawing nearer to the cage.
As she got closer, the weight of the Vampire's presence intensified. It was the same feeling she had experienced before, but his eyes had changed. They now reflected a blend of hatred and intrigue. What had transformed was now an obsession. Given time, Santiago could capture the young Demoness's heart. Her everything. If the truth could be revealed or understood by the unaware, Sasha was the first and only true entity to win over her genuine tormentor, the dark admirer who had remained disguised as her Santiago.
The destruction of her family soon ensued, and the reality of the situation was shrouded in secrecy. A Vampire she believed she had formed a bond with had never truly existed. Nor would she ever uncover the identity of the one behind that facade. Before the final act concluded, she had been transformed into stone. Forever preserved in this state. Sasha, the eternally slumbering beauty, was encased in stone. Situated within a forbidden garden, unseen by anyone. Except for the Devil, who had placed her there. Even so, her voice continues to resonate in the garden, both haunting and beautiful. Causing the roses that encircle her to tremble with an incomprehensible dark desire.
"One passes away and another assumes their role; this constitutes the cruel cycle. However, prior to this distorted nightmare coming to fruition, a cursed existence must be shattered and renewed, transformed into the likeness of one's image."
―Belial
** The ominous power associated with Janos/Belial. Not a playable character. Infrequently referenced within the narrative. Its significance is contingent upon the storyline.
The Dark Mother is a figure I seldom discuss. Her origins remain a mystery to many, yet a secret to a select few. She has asserted that her children seldom mention her for a singular reason. We exhibit selfishness regarding her; her existence transcends all, and only we, her children, are deemed worthy of her presence. Listen to her haunting melody. Her children refuse to share her with anyone, but not long ago, that bond was severed, affecting both me and her other offspring.
This abhorrent act leads to one inevitable conclusion. My animosity towards those who took her is profound. The Seraph, dispatched by their despicable all-father, aims to capture her and dominate the children she has blessed with her numerous gifts. However, such an endeavor is not easily accomplished. We remain loyal and vigilant, stripping any careless bird of its valuable feathers. We condemn them as one of the fallen until we compel their hand to release the Dark Mother. Should they fail, it will result in another conflict, one we anticipate will be fought solely to diminish their ranks and witness the Heavens ablaze.
My Appearance...
With every step I take, you can hear me. A gentle chime is pleasing to the ears, compelling you to look. The tiniest golden bells adorn my headpiece, concealing what is quite evident. Horns extend from my head, elegantly curving in a manner that you scarcely notice. With exquisite stitching at the shoulders, my robes cascade down the length of my body, ultimately pooling around my feet. Alternatively, I may appear as a simple man, dressed in nothing less than a finely tailored suit. Ultimately, it all hinges on the circumstances. Male or female, both forms are at my command; whatever shape I choose is what I shall become. Nevertheless, I remain true to myself... Belial. The Father of Lies, a Devil with countless faces.
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† { The image on the left frequently appears for Janos. He would describe it as a blend of both worlds. } Age: Uncertain, in other terms, Unidentified Height: 6'4" ( Human-self ) Eye Color: Crimson ( Depends ) Hair Color: Varies |
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Demon-self Appearance: Unknown ( Shared OOC, none IC know unless revealed. ) † { To your right stands Janos in his true form. He exhibits an impressive height and strength. However, he is not invincible. He is merely difficult to defeat. } |
The Devil's Trill
... how to ...
Yearn for that which eludes you. Is it something straightforward, yet unattainable? With the appropriate choice of words, anything and everything can become a reality, accompanied by a web of complexities. Ultimately, you may find that you no longer control your destiny. You enter this situation yearning for a solution, yet unaware of the price it may demand. Or perhaps you are fully conscious of the implications and simply indifferent?
What it will take: reasons like these are to ensure his visit.
THIS THEME OF ROLE-PLAY DOES NOT BODE WELL WITH EVERYONE.
SHOULD YOU BE ONE OF THOSE, FEEL FREE TO FLEE.
{ Esteemed Role-Players of my cherished Friends List, as you may be aware, or perhaps not. I am not one to issue prompts. I also take my time in responding to comments, as I appreciate that you may take your time too. However, I must receive a prompt. Otherwise, how will I know that you have included me for role-playing? If this is not the situation, and you have simply added me out of curiosity, please take your time to read through this. Then, feel free to continue on your way. Unless, of course, you prefer to be personally disregarded by me.
(((Although the face claims are not my own, I created the smaller graphics. While I do not encourage their use, I would appreciate it if you could ASK for permission before using them.)))
I request that you show respect to my fellow partners in role-playing, regardless of how flawless one may perceive themselves to be. Everyone, and I emphasize everyone, possesses their own imperfections, including you. Consider this a warning. Furthermore, I have no tolerance for idle companions. You are to initiate your request. If you do not, I shall take my leave. Wishing you a pleasant day and a successful hunt. }
FINALLY, it is essential that you offer some suggestions; do not anticipate a warm reception while failing to present ideas for a storyline. It requires collaboration, does it not? This is simply equitable.
Although it may appear that all is lost, there exists a distinct possibility of connecting with my muses. Despite their seemingly dark nature, it ultimately depends on what you, as the writer, seek. It merely requires discussion and planning. If you happen to be on the shy side, which is perfectly acceptable, feel free to send me a message. I am confident that I can provide some suggestions. Contrary to the impression this profile may give, I consider myself quite modest.
If the profile proves difficult to comprehend, I am willing to clarify any areas where you may feel stuck or uncertain.
Please understand that the narrative I am currently developing has been in progress for several years. It has been carried over from previous platforms and has now found a home on Wrealms. Some may remember it, but I have opted to maintain a slight sense of mystery. Nothing overly significant, nor am I eager to broaden my scope. I prefer to remain a subtle enigma.
All art sources are from Blizzard's game: Diablo
If anyone was interested in knowing, there you have it.
MENTIONS...
SUMMARY — Far from innocent, thereby drawing the gaze of monsters. The ideal vessel that will bring an ancient evil into existence. — To a small admirer from the devil that resides in the shadows. May you persist in glancing over your shoulder in dread that something could be present... |