All right. It's done. My first Third Circle Demon, and the fetich soul of my homebrew Yozi.
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Ghalu-Than, The Great Terror Worm
Demon of the Third Circle
Fetich Soul of The Darkness That Swallows Cities
The Darkness That Swallows Cities is many things. He is spiteful, he is jealous, he is grasping and feckless. Yet more than anything else, he is afraid.
He fears the Lunar Exalted, for they are faceless and cruel and clever (and they are the agents of Luna, whom he fears – and despises – even more). He fears the Incarnae, for they crushed his many siblings and made even the Holy Tyrant kneel. He fears his siblings, for they had little love for him even before the Incarnate Rebellion, and their opinion of him has not risen during their long imprisonment. He fears that his desires will never become reality: that the Incarnae shall rule for-ever, that Gaea will never be broken & brought to heel for daring to spurn him, that the Reclamation will fail, that he will be trapped forever beneath the burning gaze of Malfeas, who has none of the patronizing dismissiveness of Theion-that-was and so punishes him endlessly for his weakness.
Ylagra's fears are innumerable and all-encompassing, and yet Ghalu-Than's fears are greater and deeper still. To it, all outside itself is a fearful, terrifying threat, and the only coherent thought in its panicked mind is to run away from the terror that is all around it – though doing so brings no relief, as no matter how far it travels, it cannot escape its own paranoia.
Thus, the Great Terror Worm endlessly flees through the twisting catacomb of The Darkness That Swallows Cities, careening through vaulting caverns and claustrophobic tunnels without regard for where it is going or what is in its way. The countless coils of its chitinous form crash and rebound off all around it, for its fear precludes all concerns other than to move away from where it was. Once, its form was studded with a thousand bilious purple eyes which with it guided its movements, but the Lunars drove spikes of blessed moonsilver into each and every one of them during the Incarnate Rebellion, and now wherever the Great Terror Worm goes, the greasy turquoise blood from its blighted sockets bubbles and congeals against the stones.
Those strange, innumerable children of Ylagra who inhabit his more open spaces know to seek shelter when they hear the painful, shrieking roar of terror that pours eternally from behind Ghalu-Than's tripartite jaws, and pray it will not bring down the cavern ceiling or crush them against the walls as it passes. Ylagra's vast, empty form is marred with cracks and shears and jagged clefts beyond counting from Ghalu-Than's hysterical flailings, and yet its antics go unchallenged: The Darkness That Swallows Cities is not exempt from the Great Terror Worm's insane paranoia, and his efforts to halt his own fetich's flight or command it to show greater caution in the past only drove it to new heights of panic-driven destruction.
When an entire nation falls into riot and disarray through blind fear that has no reasonable cause, and its ruler's efforts to restore order result only in his own death, the Great Terror Worm may burst forth from the spot where he fell and blindly flail across the landscape like a tossed stone on water, causing terrible chaos and devastation before vanishing back into the Demon City with the dawn, oblivious of its brief sojourn into Creation.
For a Sorcerer, Ghalu-Than is a somewhat burdensome tool. Even if bound, the Great Terror Worm will not willingly stop its endless flight (indeed, it gains one point of Limit for each round it is forced to remain stationary), and it lacks all understanding of subtlety or discretion. However, it can be given a direction to flee in, and the heedless tumult of its passing sends the least gods of the earth into pain-wracked spasms, such that lesser buildings collapse, fields of tilled soil shiver and swallow all that rests upon them, and even fortified citadels are shaken to their foundations – and for all its fear, Ghalu-Tha's massive form can smash apart jade ramparts like driftwood, and mortal weaponry will bend & shatter before it has any hope of penetrating the gnarled plates of its flesh.
Worse, where Ghalu-Than goes, his turquoise blood is left behind, and it sinks deep into the feeble soil of Creation within hours, poisoning those plants which grow from it and dooming all who seek to forage from such tainted land to become mad, emaciated beasts. Those who seek an engine of indiscriminate destruction and lingering harm could do worse.
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