Carrnage
Human
- Location
- New Zealand
Try using the Threat of reckless murder.
General Exalted Thread
- Location
- The sixth circle of Hell (second on weekends)
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Awww. I love you too.I am not a GM with players like that. I am a GM with a player who randomly adopts street rats and steals them away to hell, blunders from catastrophe to catastrophe so I don't even bother to plan for individual sessions because my plans just end up off-course, and who accidentally a whole Nexus.
And it was only the three street rats, and that was mostly because of my BEST IDEA EVAR for deciding what Keris should do in any given situation.
You roll Keris' Temperance to see if you should do ideas which come to mind.
- Location
- The sixth circle of Hell (second on weekends)
- Pronouns
- She/Her
It's a good strategy! If I have an idea that is perfectly in line with her character but may or may not be a hilariously bad idea on every level, I roll the appropriate trait to see if she does it anyway!You roll Keris' Temperance to see if you should do ideas which come to mind.
It's not my fault Keris is only Temperance 2.
... well technically it is my fault but let's not quibble over inconsequential details here.
Eukie
Powered by furious Canadian redheads
- Location
- The sixth circle of Hell (second on weekends)
- Pronouns
- She/Her
... uh... actually, if it's in line with her personality and one of her Principles rated at 3+ [1], she needs two successes to not do it at all. One success merely gets her to be careful about it. Well, relatively careful. Ish.
[1] One of which is "Be Rich and Comfortable", which applies to any action based on stealing shiny things.
Touch of Sepia Demon Homebrew: Ka, The Unbound Reflections
Touch of Sepia
Artisan of the Vital Tincture
- Location
- Connecticut
So, threads slowed down. Has anyone written any custom demons? I've got one I have written up and a couple more in rough draft. Be cool to expand the demonic tool box a bit - let some more of the Yozi play other than the big 5+1.
I'll have to post later when I have access to my resources.
-Edit-
Ka, The Unbound Reflections
Demons of the First Circle
Progeny of The City of Mirrors
I'll have to post later when I have access to my resources.
-Edit-
Ka, The Unbound Reflections
Demons of the First Circle
Progeny of The City of Mirrors
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Matsci
Grash itsh griah! Rwar arr rawrrawrarar!
Welp, a number have already been posted in the thread, some more jokingly than others.
Katibin, the Sages Upon Shoulders
Ferfiedesseg, the Men Who Smell Of Sweetness
Jodigoba, the Wise Beasts Who Ride
Olajiyae, the Quenching Shadows
Anyaglos, the Ribbon-Horses
Punsovi, the House With Two Doors, Demon of the Third Circle, and all the descendant demons.
Homkora- Dancer in the Crystal Treasury, Warden Soul of the End of All Wisdom
and from Spacebattles
Csinostaj, the Beauteous Lures
Szelkeruby, the Windspun Bridesmaids
Larmagar, the Noise-Eating Grubs
Aksas, the Bright-Eyed Desert Birds
Egzengesnyal, the Tempestuous Tongues and Kialtcsendes, the Screaming Mimes
Rovarbor, the Hollow Beetles, Panikeszik, the Tremulous Scarabs and Szamszerji, the Twice-Crossed Bows.
Tuzsaska, the Verbose Firehoppers
- Location
- The sixth circle of Hell (second on weekends)
- Pronouns
- She/Her
If anyone is interested in the ones that Keris has made thus far in Kerisgame...
And while we haven't seen them yet, Echo is hard at work creating the szelkeruby, and will eventually create anyaglos, both of which I adapted from Pantheon devas into generic demons. For those who don't want to go plodding over to SB, their Echo-progeny writeups (stripped of the Malfeas-specific stuff) are:
Oh, and there's also Astrea and the Csend, if people haven't seen them yet.
Mavaroskae, the Hermit Strays
The core of a mavaroska is a small animal skull nestled in a bundle of human hair; coiled within the braincase and threaded out of the eye sockets and jaw. This is the secret heart of the demon, and its true body. The hair is prehensile, and the creature can move independently with tendril-limbs and grasping locks, but this is very rare. Mavaroskae fear exposing themselves so, and they will assemble an outer shell around themselves, sending hairs out to grasp rubbish, debris and junk from their surroundings. They pull such objects in and build a body for themselves; made in a mockery of the animal whose skull they stem from. Cats and dogs are the most common by far, but foxes, monkeys, lizards and even birds are not unheard of.
Mavaroskae are city-creatures; strays of the streets, and they will head for civilisation if they find themselves elsewhere. They amuse themselves by killing vermin, which they abandon once dead, and build nests out of the junk that they deem inadequate for inclusion in their bodies. A mavaroska's form is constantly being rebuilt according to their bizarre aesthetics as it swaps out rags from an empty flour sack for a grease-stained scarf, or discards a broken thigh-bone found outside a butcher's for a spoke from a shattered cart-wheel. Their nests are attuned to the city around them, and careful examination can yield information, such as where still-edible food can be found, or what buildings are empty and warm at night.
The Hermit Strays have no homes of their own - their nests are more artistic than inhabitable - and they are drawn to those who share this trait. They can sense the homes of those they see, even gleaning information on how rich or well-guarded they are, and look favourably on squatters and the homeless. Perhaps a consequence of this sense is their deep and bitter hatred for household pets and other animals who have a home where they are welcome - mavaroskae despise such beasts, and will kill them when they can. Ironically, so-slain pets often become Hermit Strays themselves, for a mavaroska can reproduce by winding human hair around a skull picked clean of flesh, and take a dark amusement in recycling the remains of their hated foes in this way.
Hermit Strays gain a point of Limit for every day they are prevented from gathering new materials. When someone without a home creates an effigy of animal life - be it decoy, doll or drawing - a mavaroska can inhabit it and begin building a more suitable body.
The core of a mavaroska is a small animal skull nestled in a bundle of human hair; coiled within the braincase and threaded out of the eye sockets and jaw. This is the secret heart of the demon, and its true body. The hair is prehensile, and the creature can move independently with tendril-limbs and grasping locks, but this is very rare. Mavaroskae fear exposing themselves so, and they will assemble an outer shell around themselves, sending hairs out to grasp rubbish, debris and junk from their surroundings. They pull such objects in and build a body for themselves; made in a mockery of the animal whose skull they stem from. Cats and dogs are the most common by far, but foxes, monkeys, lizards and even birds are not unheard of.
Mavaroskae are city-creatures; strays of the streets, and they will head for civilisation if they find themselves elsewhere. They amuse themselves by killing vermin, which they abandon once dead, and build nests out of the junk that they deem inadequate for inclusion in their bodies. A mavaroska's form is constantly being rebuilt according to their bizarre aesthetics as it swaps out rags from an empty flour sack for a grease-stained scarf, or discards a broken thigh-bone found outside a butcher's for a spoke from a shattered cart-wheel. Their nests are attuned to the city around them, and careful examination can yield information, such as where still-edible food can be found, or what buildings are empty and warm at night.
The Hermit Strays have no homes of their own - their nests are more artistic than inhabitable - and they are drawn to those who share this trait. They can sense the homes of those they see, even gleaning information on how rich or well-guarded they are, and look favourably on squatters and the homeless. Perhaps a consequence of this sense is their deep and bitter hatred for household pets and other animals who have a home where they are welcome - mavaroskae despise such beasts, and will kill them when they can. Ironically, so-slain pets often become Hermit Strays themselves, for a mavaroska can reproduce by winding human hair around a skull picked clean of flesh, and take a dark amusement in recycling the remains of their hated foes in this way.
Hermit Strays gain a point of Limit for every day they are prevented from gathering new materials. When someone without a home creates an effigy of animal life - be it decoy, doll or drawing - a mavaroska can inhabit it and begin building a more suitable body.
Iszangols, the Scavengers in Silt
An iszangol is akin to a slimy, gelatinous eel; ice-cold, with four milky-white eyes arranged around a gaping lamprey maw and a dull metallic colouring that runs the gamut from green to blue to purple. Despite the fearsome orifices that crown their mud-packed bodies, iszangols eat only the mud and silt they are made from, growing slowly longer and thicker as they do. Enormous amounts of food allow them to vomit up a mixture of mud and blood into the skin of a snake or eel, creating another of their kind as they themselves shrink with the loss.
Freshwater is the home of the iszangols - their muddy bodies are highly permeable, and contaminants such as sewage or dissolved metals cause them great discomfort. Phlegmatic in temperament and unassuming in form, they prefer to reside in lakes, rivers and streams, though canals and flooded sewer systems make serviceable homes; scavenging the watery beds for the tastiest sediment to graze on. They move through the water by drawing it in through their mouths and forcing it out through the four vents in their tails. What emerges is pure freshwater, unsullied by taint or toxin.
Silt-scavengers have no teeth or tearing claws, no natural armour or unnatural quickness. Their only defence against predation is the cloying slime that coats them. It is poisonous, though only mildly, and its caustic nature usually serves to deter any animal keen on tearing them apart in search of food. It is this substance that causes them discomfort in heavily polluted homes; for it reacts aggressively with impure liquids, and is only entirely inert in purest water. A droplet of it in a drinking vessel will tell the observant whether or not the liquid is safe to drink.
Scavengers in Silt gain a point of Limit for every hour they are forced to spend in fouled or contaminated water - seawater counts as such, for salt is profoundly uncomfortable to them in any significant saturation. When blood mingles with river mud over empty skin, an iszangol can squirm up through it into the water above.
An iszangol is akin to a slimy, gelatinous eel; ice-cold, with four milky-white eyes arranged around a gaping lamprey maw and a dull metallic colouring that runs the gamut from green to blue to purple. Despite the fearsome orifices that crown their mud-packed bodies, iszangols eat only the mud and silt they are made from, growing slowly longer and thicker as they do. Enormous amounts of food allow them to vomit up a mixture of mud and blood into the skin of a snake or eel, creating another of their kind as they themselves shrink with the loss.
Freshwater is the home of the iszangols - their muddy bodies are highly permeable, and contaminants such as sewage or dissolved metals cause them great discomfort. Phlegmatic in temperament and unassuming in form, they prefer to reside in lakes, rivers and streams, though canals and flooded sewer systems make serviceable homes; scavenging the watery beds for the tastiest sediment to graze on. They move through the water by drawing it in through their mouths and forcing it out through the four vents in their tails. What emerges is pure freshwater, unsullied by taint or toxin.
Silt-scavengers have no teeth or tearing claws, no natural armour or unnatural quickness. Their only defence against predation is the cloying slime that coats them. It is poisonous, though only mildly, and its caustic nature usually serves to deter any animal keen on tearing them apart in search of food. It is this substance that causes them discomfort in heavily polluted homes; for it reacts aggressively with impure liquids, and is only entirely inert in purest water. A droplet of it in a drinking vessel will tell the observant whether or not the liquid is safe to drink.
Scavengers in Silt gain a point of Limit for every hour they are forced to spend in fouled or contaminated water - seawater counts as such, for salt is profoundly uncomfortable to them in any significant saturation. When blood mingles with river mud over empty skin, an iszangol can squirm up through it into the water above.
And while we haven't seen them yet, Echo is hard at work creating the szelkeruby, and will eventually create anyaglos, both of which I adapted from Pantheon devas into generic demons. For those who don't want to go plodding over to SB, their Echo-progeny writeups (stripped of the Malfeas-specific stuff) are:
Anyaglo, the Ribbon-Horses
Eight-legged horses woven from coloured ribbons and wind; no mount alive can outpace an anyaglo. They run wild and free through the skies, flashing crimson under the light of the moon and sun, and while they cannot equal the supernatural beauty of the agatae, they feel no need to - the joy of the wind and the rush of the gallop is enough for them. Certain of them are varicoloured, from the efforts of neomah cross-breeding different lines, and these are thought to bring luck to their riders. When they gallop on air they leave ribbon-hoofprints which drift down to the ground and dissipate, and their legendary speed is well deserved - the fastest of their number have been known to outpace gales when they push themselves.
Those who experience the unusual sensation of an anyaglo's ribbon-tongue licking their face find that their next period of sleep is long, deep and dreamless. Some seek them out especially for this purpose, and the anyaglos are generally happy to oblige. They are compassionate in their strange way, though often distracted, and they will sometimes act according to their notions of kindness - snatching a suffering child up, for instance, and carrying them away from the source of their torment. Rarely, though, does their attention remain fixed for long, and such a child may find themselves abandoned without thought several hundred miles away from their starting point.
Anyaglos foal naturally by dampening their ribbons with the tears of an individual who has seen something beautiful for the first time in their life. A person from the Deep South seeing an ocean, for example, or a cave-dweller looking up at the sun and clear skies, would be appropriate. If that is done, the wetted ribbon peels off, and becomes a tiny infant anyaglo, which collects the ribbon-hoofprints of its mother to make itself larger. It may only use its mother for this, and if she dies it is forever stunted unless it can find its progenitor. Needless to say, she is far from easy to chase down. The milk of the females is said to increase the beauty of those who bathe in it; making their skin feel like velvet and turning their hair as soft as satin. The "milk" itself is thin, short masses of ribbons, carefully squeezed from the ribbon-horse's teats. Drinking it is unwise, and another way that anyaglos can come about; a new one hatches from within a milk-addict, who by that point will appear to be entirely made of silk and velvet and will bleed red ribbons if cut.
The anyaglos, unlike the agatae, do not live to be ridden or to take their passengers to their destinations. To them is given the joy of the run and the feeling of the air rustling their ribbons, though they are well inclined to passengers. Nevertheless, they are prone to take riders to where they think they should go, rather than where they necessarily want to. The fact that they have Charms that stop people falling - or dismounting - means that a mortal who tries to ride one might find themselves a hundred miles away before they can get off.
Anyaglos gain a point of Limit for every day they are not allowed to spend at least an hour running free. They can sometimes gallop out into Creation in response to a fervent wish to be "anywhere but here". The person wishing so, of course, may not always like where a ribbon-horse might take him.
Eight-legged horses woven from coloured ribbons and wind; no mount alive can outpace an anyaglo. They run wild and free through the skies, flashing crimson under the light of the moon and sun, and while they cannot equal the supernatural beauty of the agatae, they feel no need to - the joy of the wind and the rush of the gallop is enough for them. Certain of them are varicoloured, from the efforts of neomah cross-breeding different lines, and these are thought to bring luck to their riders. When they gallop on air they leave ribbon-hoofprints which drift down to the ground and dissipate, and their legendary speed is well deserved - the fastest of their number have been known to outpace gales when they push themselves.
Those who experience the unusual sensation of an anyaglo's ribbon-tongue licking their face find that their next period of sleep is long, deep and dreamless. Some seek them out especially for this purpose, and the anyaglos are generally happy to oblige. They are compassionate in their strange way, though often distracted, and they will sometimes act according to their notions of kindness - snatching a suffering child up, for instance, and carrying them away from the source of their torment. Rarely, though, does their attention remain fixed for long, and such a child may find themselves abandoned without thought several hundred miles away from their starting point.
Anyaglos foal naturally by dampening their ribbons with the tears of an individual who has seen something beautiful for the first time in their life. A person from the Deep South seeing an ocean, for example, or a cave-dweller looking up at the sun and clear skies, would be appropriate. If that is done, the wetted ribbon peels off, and becomes a tiny infant anyaglo, which collects the ribbon-hoofprints of its mother to make itself larger. It may only use its mother for this, and if she dies it is forever stunted unless it can find its progenitor. Needless to say, she is far from easy to chase down. The milk of the females is said to increase the beauty of those who bathe in it; making their skin feel like velvet and turning their hair as soft as satin. The "milk" itself is thin, short masses of ribbons, carefully squeezed from the ribbon-horse's teats. Drinking it is unwise, and another way that anyaglos can come about; a new one hatches from within a milk-addict, who by that point will appear to be entirely made of silk and velvet and will bleed red ribbons if cut.
The anyaglos, unlike the agatae, do not live to be ridden or to take their passengers to their destinations. To them is given the joy of the run and the feeling of the air rustling their ribbons, though they are well inclined to passengers. Nevertheless, they are prone to take riders to where they think they should go, rather than where they necessarily want to. The fact that they have Charms that stop people falling - or dismounting - means that a mortal who tries to ride one might find themselves a hundred miles away before they can get off.
Anyaglos gain a point of Limit for every day they are not allowed to spend at least an hour running free. They can sometimes gallop out into Creation in response to a fervent wish to be "anywhere but here". The person wishing so, of course, may not always like where a ribbon-horse might take him.
Szelkeruby, the Windspun Bridesmaids
The szelkeruby are lesser reflections of their maker, made to experience the music she cannot hear. Their seeming is of young girls woven from light, wind and laughter; who follow behind those that catch their interest. They see in shades of love and passion, and are drawn to passionate hearts, whether they be filled with love, loneliness or loathing. A szelkerub will look for potential lovers; unrequited passions and romances too shy to proceed, and act to nudge such relationships into bloom. Those lonely and longing for affection may find the winds guiding them to gain it, or leading those with love to spare to meet them.
Not all such relationships are healthy, however. They seem to reject the principle of the demon realm that there can be no love without pain, and so the smarter ones among them will seek relentlessly to escape into Creation, but their actions frequently prove that dictate true. Szelkeruby see only shades of passion, not of contentment or peace. They will ignore lesser loves for greater ones, thinking nothing of breaking up a happy partnership of twenty years to fulfil the stronger, unrequited love of one who covets another's husband from afar. They fear those with no love in them, and ever avoid their hollow gazes. Such empty-hearted monsters often find themselves stalked from behind by a determined, fearful Bridesmaid, who will pounce and kill them at the first opportunity to save others from the bitter void within. In large numbers, they are a pest.
Music is the vice of the szelkeruby, though they themselves are silent, and they love to congregate and dance in whirling groups where they hear it. Their dances are not the graceful, beautiful movements of gilmyne or neomah, though. Instead, they frolic and cavort about in great lines and circles, running and flowing from shaped silhouettes to formless wind and back again; whipping up tiny whirlwinds and vortexes in their play that grow stronger the longer they dance. Often this will scare off the musicians whose melodies drew them, depriving them of their accompaniment. Though some try to remedy this by stealing instruments and playing them themselves, they have no great musical talent of their own, and so their dances never last for long. The only constant in their gatherings is the Promise Wind Kamilla, who they flock to in great numbers; running alongside her until they tire and fall behind.
Szelkeruby gain a point of Limit for every hour they are forced to stay close to one with no love in their heart. Sometimes, on a Venusday when a lonely heart cries out for love, a szelkerub can blow through a crack in Fate nearby and set out to find it for them.
The szelkeruby are lesser reflections of their maker, made to experience the music she cannot hear. Their seeming is of young girls woven from light, wind and laughter; who follow behind those that catch their interest. They see in shades of love and passion, and are drawn to passionate hearts, whether they be filled with love, loneliness or loathing. A szelkerub will look for potential lovers; unrequited passions and romances too shy to proceed, and act to nudge such relationships into bloom. Those lonely and longing for affection may find the winds guiding them to gain it, or leading those with love to spare to meet them.
Not all such relationships are healthy, however. They seem to reject the principle of the demon realm that there can be no love without pain, and so the smarter ones among them will seek relentlessly to escape into Creation, but their actions frequently prove that dictate true. Szelkeruby see only shades of passion, not of contentment or peace. They will ignore lesser loves for greater ones, thinking nothing of breaking up a happy partnership of twenty years to fulfil the stronger, unrequited love of one who covets another's husband from afar. They fear those with no love in them, and ever avoid their hollow gazes. Such empty-hearted monsters often find themselves stalked from behind by a determined, fearful Bridesmaid, who will pounce and kill them at the first opportunity to save others from the bitter void within. In large numbers, they are a pest.
Music is the vice of the szelkeruby, though they themselves are silent, and they love to congregate and dance in whirling groups where they hear it. Their dances are not the graceful, beautiful movements of gilmyne or neomah, though. Instead, they frolic and cavort about in great lines and circles, running and flowing from shaped silhouettes to formless wind and back again; whipping up tiny whirlwinds and vortexes in their play that grow stronger the longer they dance. Often this will scare off the musicians whose melodies drew them, depriving them of their accompaniment. Though some try to remedy this by stealing instruments and playing them themselves, they have no great musical talent of their own, and so their dances never last for long. The only constant in their gatherings is the Promise Wind Kamilla, who they flock to in great numbers; running alongside her until they tire and fall behind.
Szelkeruby gain a point of Limit for every hour they are forced to stay close to one with no love in their heart. Sometimes, on a Venusday when a lonely heart cries out for love, a szelkerub can blow through a crack in Fate nearby and set out to find it for them.
Oh, and there's also Astrea and the Csend, if people haven't seen them yet.
Echo is a bright and creative little girl by the standards of small children (and is actually smarter than Keris, which is sort of embarrassing for her mother/big sister/greater self). She discovered how to make First Circles before Keris did, and is also learning to read faster than Keris managed.
- Location
- The sixth circle of Hell (second on weekends)
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Well... well Keris is still better than her at tea ceremony and music!Echo is a bright and creative little girl by the standards of small children (and is actually smarter than Keris, which is sort of embarrassing for her mother/big sister/greater self). She discovered how to make First Circles before Keris did, and is also learning to read faster than Keris managed.
Admittedly this is mostly because she can't hold cups without disintegrating them or make any noise, BUT STILL!
Carrnage
Human
- Location
- New Zealand
This gives me an idea for a demon that functions as a parasitic limb based upon this thing.
Roadie
A plate full of blins and a cat nearby.
D&D of all things actually has this, with a number of engineered aberrant symbionts in the Eberron books. In particular, one acts like an extra limb, and another adds tentacle functionality to the bearer's tongue. Mechanically, they have separate stat blocks but work sort of like intelligent magic items (with low but omnipresent Ego scores) most of the time.
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*starts sniggering*
Carrnage
Human
- Location
- New Zealand
i was thinking more of a cripple's best friend, course there will be prime specimens that are better than human limbs.
- Location
- The sixth circle of Hell (second on weekends)
- Pronouns
- She/Her
This does make it rather awkward for the fighter who cuts off both arms and legs to replace with STRONK DEMON LIMMS, and then encounters someone who knows Emerald Banishment.
ryuan
From Zero to Hero!
He shouldn't have read too much Type-Moon then.
azoicennead
Overly-Affectionate Zombie Squad
- Pronouns
- He/They
It's the fighter's fault for not being fast enough to punch them.
If he was going to go through all of the trouble of chopping off his limbs and summoning up demonic replacements but neglected to invest in something to keep the first yahoo with Emerald Circle Banishment from chucking his limbs back into Malfeas, then he's getting exactly what he paid for.
Carrnage
Human
- Location
- New Zealand
Well if you want prosthetics that don't have major downsides in a pre-industrial world bribe an exalted or a god.
Chloe Sullivan
Subdefective
- Location
- 1630 Revello Drive, Sunnydale CA
Wouldn't Em Ban only remove one demon limb at a time, theoretically allowing him time to fight/flee if he stunts well?
notanautomaton
I've got 99 quests, I've finished one
Head of Vecna anyone? Now we just need a demon that replaces the persons head and we can replicate it in Exalted.
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Well, the thing is, these limbs work perfectly well until you run up against a competent sorcerer...
azoicennead
Overly-Affectionate Zombie Squad
- Pronouns
- He/They
So would the Head!
Mind you, the original character wouldn't be in control any more, but the Head would be working exactly how it's supposed to!