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 you continue. I'm certain not all would like to scroll down and find what's important. But this is to save you the trouble. With that said, the contents of this profile are violent, offensive, and dark. It is never to everyone's liking, but for those that are tolerable and open-minded, I welcome you. In no way is this profile a reflection of myself, the writer's real self, or my intention. It is a figment of fantasy. It has been for over fourteen years plus now. Though it is not a story that cannot accommodate another writer, it would simply require some plotting. It never hurts to ask. I'm always willing to listen. As such, thank you for your understanding.

Relationship Status: A Web of Complexity, amusing nonetheless. Who am I... A Devil ( 𝔅𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔞𝔩 ) ** The Antagonist of your story Romantic Interests... Omnisexual My Story... ... as complicated as can be. But do let me shed some light on a fragment, a slice I've prepared just for you. I'm never what I appear, a face always changing. Whereas the skin is never the same, the same cannot be said about habits, the hunger. The need... Do I care what is thought of me... no? Does it matter what I think of you... yes? Always. I extend my welcome to the strong-willed. The curious of ill heart. Corrupted and ill intent. My doors are open to you, and my attention is yours. Feast upon that which I have to offer. Or if you prefer, lurk within the darkness that would soon surround you.  Dare to wrap your hands around a craned neck, that of which is mine. Squeeze, feel as life slips away. Or so it would be made to appear. Simply for your very own amusement. And my own of course... Cross wits, intelligence, and if you like, spend your power. Deplete it if possible. Thrust yourself into death's embrace. Slumber an eternity with me...

... The Tome ...

Even a Devil keeps a few secrets. Weighty with knowledge, such a trove is kept well-guarded because of its dangerous contents. From how to when, even of the now...Belial, the one before Janos keeps the tome close and yet so far, for the sake to keep his skin intact. When his enemy believes him dead, it is from the ash that he will rise anew. Onto the pages, written in his blood, he has accomplished a most unthinkable deed...a pact with thyself. So long he keeps this out of reach will he accomplish much wickedness without consequence.

... The Writer ...

The tome fits in the hands of man, for it was written by a man. As per the order of the Devil that whispered in the man's ear, gifted a special ink, did he write unto death upon completion? Taken thereafter by its true owner. 

Kraven was a mere youthful humble human, loved by all in his village. But questioned when he began to appear odd; speaking to himself, or so it would seem to the onlookers. Candlelight was always aglow throughout the night and well into the morning. As days became weeks and weeks became months, Kraven grows old and forgotten, completing what he had been tasked with.

Rumor has it that the old, estranged man set his home ablaze in his craze...

A Z M O D A N		B A A L

AZMODAN...

Untrustworthy and forever suspicious. Azmodan the brother you would never turn your back on. Fear that he might stab you, or at least that would be the easier term for ending one's life without the gore. To the right of Belial, they have kept order amongst their numbers, which have dwindled. While each is responsible for their duty, it has kept them blind to what has been truly transpiring. From the looks of it, Azmodan has been unable to find evidence but suspects that each crime happened from within.

While it is a crime, he cannot deny the increase in power he has felt since the loss of seven of their own. Leaving them at a mere three, Belial, BAAL, and himself. Azmodan has yet to meet with either of his siblings to verify if they indeed still exist. Or what condition they might be in. Would they be like him? Time would tell.

Azmodan was the least favored of the circle but stood strong when it came to backing his brother Belial. Strongly devoted children to the Dark Mother. But even then, she never did see him as she did Belial. BAAL was babied, being that BAAL was the youngest. Mentally unstable. From time to time, Azmodan found himself watching over BAAL, one could say that the three were far more connected than the rest cared to be. Attempts had been made on Azmodan by four others of his siblings, even on BAAL.

And then, it all stopped...

BAAL...

Quiet but just as deadly. It's upon BAAL's weakest that one gets too careless. Pitiful as the Devil may seem, BAAL is known to rear an ugly head and at times, in the literal of senses. Known to devour the tormentor, flesh, and bone.

Born with a weak body, BAAL was nurtured by the Dark Mother till that weakened body was all but strong. A mix of man and woman, BAAL possesses no true gender. A string of sounds emits from the Devil, sounding like all at once. As if speaking in unison as two made one. Sharing a body, an existence.

BAAL is etched from head to toe and laid bare for all to see. Unlike their counter opposites, evil is not known to be shy. They embrace their forms, but no one does this better than BAAL. More human-like, like his mother, yet possessing enough to deem a monster. Attracting all sorts of victims with a dark and strange sex appeal eventually leads to BAAL's torment and ultimately dinner. At the alarming verge of death is BAAL invincible, with no equal.

** Old loyal servant, non-playable character. Once played by a good friend who is now gone from wrealms, but not forgotten. So this is my interpretation of them thus far. A part of this ongoing story that will keep going...

Chambers of Torment, that's where one would find him alongside his once-proud female. Overly confident but careful, it wasn't hard to know what she desired in truth. And that desire would bring along severe consequences. With the inevitable departure of his female, Meadow was then free for the taking, not that it had been difficult to take him in the first place. It was a simple case of charming the woman and then casting her aside that made the game all the more fun. A feat, if you will...

Gifted upon him was a scythe, which he would then use to reap the souls of the unfortunate and those not so. It was left at his discretion and how he did not disappoint. However, there was a detail that was left out of such a responsibility. What was reaped was directly delivered to the heart of that darkness, Belial himself. While it seemed that the reaped souls remained with those who had harvested them, they were truly ushered to their true and unfortunate destination. It was to fuel the tome that keeps Meadow's master where he stands undefeated, invincible...

Black Rose, a man so bitter a ruler. Ran his entire kingdom out. He was left to rule a vast empty empire. Unable to fend off the horde of Demons, he gave in. Summoned with all his hatred something darker, something willing to aid against its own. Signing over his mortal existence, he was given immortal life, the power to fight the hordes. But it comes at a price. A thirst that knows no bounds. What little was left of the citizens, become his victims. His eyes soon turn to the last of the mortals, his sister, and her husband. Both with a newly born son; Santiago.

While all goes to ruin, the Vampire finds himself unable to make his visit. Something was warding him away. What it was, he could not guess. During that time, he was being watched. From the very darkness, he happened to lurk. Word had reached the family, there was a creature on the prowl, its sights on the child. Shown how to defend themselves, there would be no way, harm would come to them. Something else, they should be wary of her brother. This was all that was said by the stranger. Santiago's mother swore she saw a glint of a smile on the stranger.

Weight is placed upon the couple and their growing child. So, plans on leaving the fortification were in order. With safe passage, and an angered Vampire gazing down upon their departure from his perch. He would watch as they leave through the large gates, defended by the whispering cold winds. Why he felt compelled to hunt them down, is unsure, even to the creature he had become. A family bond is much stronger than a stranger's blood. Their blood called out to the Vampire like none other. While it was rather amusing at first, things changed per the contract that had been made.

Years pass and new ideas are born. And the Demons have become restless, and they do not know why. A seed has been planted. Eyes among them. Bodies have begun to pile, and whispers say, that it is the doing of the Lord of the southern stronghold. What can a mere mortal man possibly do to their kind? Their leader, still not convinced, decides to observe. Waiting, while his own grow impatient. With a few of the Demons slipping past their border. Lay a secret attack upon the center stronghold. There, in wait, was a group. Unbeknownst to the family inside, these numbers lying in wait, attack the Demons. Baring pale flesh, and fangs. With a thirst for Demon blood, it would seem.

While one was allowed to escape, he returns home with stories, possibly proof. War is what they will bring to the Black Rose. War. What manner of power they have gotten hold of; they were now a true threat. Leaving no room for chance and having them attack their home. Black Rose, on the other hand, hears nothing of this. But he is visited. Pacing like a madman, unable to understand. Growing mad with thirst. Finding that he cannot leave, too much of a coward, even with this granted power. So, he is relieved of his reign. All but ash now, forgotten. While in his stead stood one with the same face.

Vampires, that is the word that has reached the Demon's ears. And that is what they are calling the Black Rose. Even the growing Santiago, and his parents. To which they are not. Yet. Growing up, the boy had been visited. The man claims to be his uncle. Requesting he now tell his parents about the visits, he did promise to show him how to protect his family. Because to the north was a growing army of Demons that posed a great threat. With some secret tutoring, Santiago would prove to be a vital piece in this game. A game that will drag out for years. Which it does. As a young man, he cuts down the number of Demons that invade his land.

His battles, however, could only be wagered at night. Due to the strategy of the Demons. Again, more lies had been spread through their numbers. Reaching the ears of their leader. On Santiago's side, his uncle had given him an army. Creatures made to command, there to bide by Santiago's words. The secret was, that they were made of unknown flesh, having dug their way from the dirt, equipped for war. When one would fall, one would rise again. At times said, that their numbers doubled, but there was never proof. But it would be from one of the fights, that Santiago is mortally wounded. Calling for his uncle, the only way he knew. Santiago's call was always answered, just as promised, his uncle would be there.

Power, that's what the boy asked for. With his wound healed. He was offered the same deal his uncle had that day. However, Santiago didn't seem weak as his uncle had been that day. Given that power, tailed by a curse, he was able to defend against numbers. Keeping his aging parents safe. Seeing them pass on, was heart-wrenching, but he could not offer a single tear. Grasping this new resolve, he plows his way through a wall of Demons, heading right for their gates. In the thickness of it all, Santiago is wrangled, subdued, and brought forth by the head of the Demons. Looking like any savage beast, he snapped his jaws at them. Caked in blood, they swore he resembled a Demon.

Many eyes were upon him, hatred was what filled those gazes, weighing upon him. But there was something amid that hatred. Curiosity. His own eyes search the numbers present. But it is when he looks up, that he meets a pair of eyes. Captivated, Santiago was not the only one looking upon this Demon. For through his eyes, his supposed uncle too met those beautiful demonic eyes. Sitting at his throne, biding his time. All seems to cease at that moment. Sasha...

** Mistress of the story. Non-playable. This character was once played by an old friend.

Gazing through Santiago's eyes that day, changed things. What had happened before, was about to happen again. As Santiago was questioned within the threshold of the stronghold, Sasha, the young Demoness watched. With such a curiosity, that will always get the best of her. Careful not to be seen, it did little for Santiago who had. And someone else as well. Where she might have thought that the chill that coursed through her, was from those piercing Vampire eyes. When in reality, it was the darkness peering through them, right at her. Hauled into the depths of the mountain itself, which made up half of the stronghold.

Santiago was kept in a cage-like cell. Kept till further notice, and it is then, that Sasha takes her chance. Stealing a moment, she slips from her chambers, working her way down. Careful not to be seen. From what she had overheard, the Demons planned to do something. She had not stayed long enough to hear it all. Before the young Demoness could reach Santiago, someone had gotten there before her. Where salvation seemed to be within grasp, it is taken. As was Santiago's appearance, for someone had taken his place within the cell, the Vampire slipped into a darkness from which he would never return. Enters young Sasha, with careful footsteps, drawing closer to the cage.

The closer, the heavier the Vampire's presence seemed to be. It was that same sensation she got before, but his eyes were different. Where there had been a mix of hatred and fascination. There was now, infatuation. With time, Santiago can win the young Demoness's heart. Her everything. If truth could be told or known to the unbeknownst, Sasha has been the first and only true being to win her true tormenting, dark admirer, that of whom had remained in the guise of her Santiago.

Destruction of her kin soon followed, and the truth behind it all was kept secret. A Vampire she thought to have made a union with, had never been. Nor would she ever discover the one behind that guise. Before the curtains fell, she had turned to stone. Kept like this eternally. Sasha, the still sleeping beauty, was cast in stone. Placed within a forbidden garden, viewed by none. Save for the Devil who put her there. Even then, her voice, still lingers in the garden, hauntingly, beautifully. Making the roses that surround her, shudder with an unfathomable dark passion.

"One dies and another takes their place, this is the vicious cycle. But before this twisted nightmare can take fruition, a damned existence must be torn asunder and made new, made into the image of one's likeness." ―Belial

** The dark force behind Janos/Belial. Non-playable. Rarely mentioned in the story. It all depends on the story.

The Dark Mother, now here's a figure I rarely talk about. A being whose origin is an enigma to all, but a secret to some. She has claimed her children rarely speak of her for one reason and one reason only. We're selfish when it comes to her, her very existence is beyond anything and none other than ourselves deserve to be allowed in her presence. Hear her dark melody. Children who refuse to share her with anyone, but not long ago that was taken from me and her other children.

This loathsome act brings one thing to a conclusion. My hate towards the things that took her. The Seraph, sent by their wretched all father to capture her and reign in the children she empowered with her many gifts. But such a task is not easily gained. We remain devoted and watchful plucking any forgetful bird of its precious feathers. Damning them as one of the fallen till we force their hand on releasing the Dark Mother. Failure on their part will lead to another war, one we hope will wager simply to decimate their numbers and see the Heavens on fire.

 My Appearance...

With each of my steps, you hear me. A soft chime is easy on the ears that you have no other choice, but to look. The smallest of golden bells are found upon my head fixture as well as hides what is quite obvious. Horns protrude from my head, curving in their fine tone that you hardly notice. With fine stitching at the shoulders, robes spill down the length of my body only to pool about my feet. Or look like a simple male, clothed in nothing less than a tailored suit. Like everything, it all depends. Male or Female, both are at my disposal, whatever shape I desire is what I will be. Regardless, I am none other than myself .. Belial. Father of lies, a Devil with many faces.

† { Image on the left is a recurring appearance for Janos. It is a bit of both worlds, as he would say. }  Age: Undetermined in other words Unknown Height: 6'4" ( Human-self ) Eye Color: Crimson ( Depends ) Hair Color: Varies

Demon-self Appearance: Unknown ( Shared OOC, none IC know unless revealed. ) Manipulation of appearance, taking in a human-like appearance with alterations that say otherwise. Conjure of creatures and other matters that serve any of his purposes. It feeds upon the innocent souls of man and creature alike. Life energy to keep himself replenished lasts an unknown duration. Healing factors depend on his healing pool, weaknesses hidden from the naked eye, and only found in a leather-bound book that is in his possession. † { To your right is Janos' true form. He possesses a staggering height and might. Though never invincible. Just complex to kill. }

The Devil's Trill

... how to ...

Desire something you cannot attain. Something simplistic, yet impossible? Anything and everything are possible, with the right set of words, followed by a complex of rights. It will be in the end that you are no longer the owner of your fate. You walk into this desperate for some means but ignorant of what it will cost you. Or could it be you are well aware and do not care?

What it will take: reasons like these are to ensure his visit.

• Desperation (i.e.) Loss of a loved one, mainly if it was one-sided. Your obsession drove you to take the life of the one you could not be without. And now with them gone, you desire them back, by any means.
• Vengeance (i.e.) Everything seems to have gone how it should have, leaving you the culprit to remain a spectator of this story. You feel you have been robbed of what you rightly deserved. At least this is what you have come to believe. While you did not get a single thing, you feel you can by unspeakable means. Whatever it is you crave in this situation, wealth, status...everything. Kill them all. Watch them suffer.

THIS THEME OF ROLE-PLAY DOES NOT BODE WELL WITH EVERYONE.

SHOULD YOU BE ONE OF THOSE, FEEL FREE TO FLEE.

{ Role-Players of my beloved Friend's List, as you might know, or may not. I am not a prompt man. And I do take my time replying to comments as I don't mind you taking your time as well. But I must get one. Otherwise, how am I to know that you've added me to role-play? If this is not the case and you merely added me out of curiosity. Take your time and have a read. And be on your way. Unless you wish to be discarded personally, by yours truly. 

(((While face claims are not my own, smaller graphics were made by myself. While I won't say to use them. It would be appreciated if to ASK if you'd like to use them.)))

I ask that you respect my fellow partners in role-playing. No matter how perfect one thinks they are. Everyone. And I mean everyone, has their flaws. Including yourself. Be warned. Also, I do not like idle friends. Your request you begin. If not, then I bid you farewell. Have yourself a decent day and a good hunt. }

LASTLY, you must provide some ideas, do not expect to be kindly accepted, and then not provide ideas for a plot. It takes two, agreed? It's only fair.

While it might seem everything is lost, there is a definite possibility of threading with the likes of my muses. As dark as they might seem, it all depends on what you, the writer, are looking for. It is just a matter of discussing and plotting. If it so happens you are the shy type, and there is nothing wrong with that, then drop me an inbox. I'm sure I can offer some ideas. Unlike the aura, this profile might exude, I am quite humble.

Should the profile prove challenging to understand, I'm open to translating where you are stuck or confused.

Know that the story I have going here is something that I have had going on for years now. Brought over from the old pages and finally settled on Wrealms. Some might recall, but I've chosen to retain a small itch. Nothing too big, nor eager to expand. I prefer to remain a small nightmare.

All art sources are from Blizzard's game: Diablo

If anyone was interested in knowing, there you have it.

MENTIONS...