Deathlord: The Ivory Crow Atop a Pillar of Jade

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The Ivory Crow Atop a Pillar of Jade


Description:


In the darkest corners of the Isle of Sorrow a warlock sits atop a towering fortress that stares bleakly into the desolate night sky.  He is the Ivory Crow Atop a Pillar of Jade and he is mighty.  Indeed, this monstrous ghost is a power to be feared by men and ghosts alike, for he is a Deathlord, the few of the Second Age who would claim themselves as God-Kings.  Yet the Ivory Crow does not stand atop his tower, beckoning countless legions to march upon Creation with their infinite brutality.  


Instead he commits himself to solitude and research.  Creation will fall into Oblivions heart in time.  That is certain...and he is quite immortal.  There is no need to rush forward into that reality.  For now he sits and waits, experimenting and expanding his already incomparable knowledge of the Underworld, Creation, the Wyld and the Void.  Whether in the cavernous depths of his underground sanctuary, the Ashen Obelisk, or at the highest man-made peak in the Underworld, the Crow stays hidden.  He does not walk the streets of his Manse-city.  He does not wander his territory waging war against those ghosts who stray into his territory, or against the other Deathlords.  


Truth be told, the last time he was even seen by anyone outside of his citadels was when the First and Forsaken Lion fled after a succinct confrontation.  Yet the Ivory Crow is quite apt to make himself available to his pupils, the Abyssal Exalted, when they require his presence.  


When he does appear, he is quite impressive in his most bizarre white armor.  At his torso the armor is gargantuan, too large for any normal man.  The entire back and chest is the pattern of folded wings, each feather paintstakingly made of the finest white jade, under which lay a frame of solid soulsteel.  Below his torso his legs are absolutely covered in spines and spikes and the like, all poisonous to the touch.  His helm, however, is what makes him especially strange in appearence.  It is a tower in and of itself, a cone that reaches several feet above his head.  Yet strange as he may appear, he is truly terrifying as well.  His helm hides a dark face with merciless eyes, his armor hiding a form wickedly moliated into a more "suitable" combat form.  Some say that he is, in fact, more deadly when he removes his armor, for he knows of a wicked Martial Arts style long since forgotten, or forbidden.  However, that is quite a rumor, for he has simply never removed his armor, at least before none who speak of it.


The Ivory Crows weapons are the Talons Of the Godless Deep.  Both are four foot long retractable blades firmly attached to his forearms.  They can extend out even longer as they are connected to the Crow through endless chains, which are themselves unbreakable.  Beyond being simply uncanny weapons, blessed with all manner of murderous prowess on the battlefield, these weapons vastly improve the Crows latent necromantic ability.  Each blade reduces the cost of any necromancies used by 5 motes, and if used in conjunction, as they often are, necromancies cost but 10 motes.  Similarly, the Crow may spend 10 motes to reduce a single necromantic spell by 1 turn, though he may do this only once per spell he wishes to cast.


Background:


In the time of the First Age there were countless heroes and magnanimous Exalted.  These men and women proved that there was nothing in Creation that could match the valor and ingenuity of the Exalted, the scions of benevolent, if quiet, Gods.  


Vanos the Bold, a Solar Exalt born after the Primordial War was come and gone, was no such virtuous avenger.  Tormented by the realization that his power would come only from age, Vanos moved to darker paths.  He refused the whispers of the Yozi time and time again, content to gain his abilities on his own.  He wanted only to prove himself a worthy member of the Deliberative.  Perhaps he could even take up a seat on the Deliberative, who knew?  His ambition was without fail, his skills without limits and his carelessness virtually legendary (Hence the title).  For an Exalt of his age he was bold, foolish and ruthless.  He had every right to be.  Under Brigids personal tutor he became a quick study in the arts of sorcery.  He ascended to the Adamant Circle within but a few years...and from there became known for creating the most destructive, most horrific sorceries.  


It was clear he had the ability to become one of the greatest Mages to ever exist, perhaps rivalling or even usurping the eldest of the Solar Exalted in time.  Vanos, however, could not wait for time to give him the oppurtunity to become great, his thirst for knowledge was too much.  It was he who looked deep into the darkness below Creation and deemed it worthy of his presence.  It was he who gathered the finest minds of the Age and drilled his way into the bleak Underworld.  Necromancy was introduced to Creation by his hand...and it was frowned upon even by the mad God-Kings.  He taunted the Labyrinth, dove headlong into its heart and with no regard wielded its secrets.   For decades he stayed in its cold chambers, mapping the unknown territory and throwing the Nephwracks aside with ease.


Eventually he became bored with even the Underworld.  There the Malfeans whispered in his ears...and though he thought himself a fortress unto himself, he was not.  His own eagerness to become greater was the spark that ignited the fire that would consume him.  In irritation the Malfeans whispered to him, speaking of a morbidly powerful device in Creation.  Seeking this strange artifact Vanos left the Malfeans in peace.  It was but a matter of years later that Vanos came to his home city of Jayden in the North with his final prize- The Eye of Autochthon.  With it he claimed he would own a seat on the Deliberative.  


With unsurpassed arrogance and unsurpassed sorcerous knowledge he used the device to create an impenetrable citadel in the heart of the North.  The city-state of Glacias was founded that very day, the great first age city of Jayden itself becoming warped with ice and darkness, to the point where it simply was something different.  Glacias was unassailable, unbreakable.  Her walls were unfathomably tall, her defenses simply impenetrable.  Vanos had made the perfect seat of power in an already deadly terrain...but as was common with Vanos, he paid no heed to the needs of his citizens.  He made the greatest city, but ignored the desires of those who would populate it.  In his madness all would perish, only to be risen again as walking corpses, forever wandering the cities icy streets, forever toiling uselessly.


There the other Solars approached him, demanding the Eye be given to the Deliberative for further study.  As one would assume, Vanos refused.  In the following battle, Creation was forever scarred.  That which is now called "The White Sea" is all that remains of the battlefield.  An entire direction was bisected by the wrath of Vanos the Bold.  His dark deeds marked the last time a Solar would perish at another Solars hands for over a milennia.  His ghost found itself staring into a horrific prison of Jade...and there his brilliance, his ambition and his powers availed him not.  For he was but one of the first to know the muted rage of lost power at the bottom of the inland sea.  He wouldn't be the last.


The Usurpation came and went.  The Malfeans birthed the Deathlords from the anguished ghosts of the mad, dead Solars who haunted the inland sea.  Vanos the Bold was one of the first to accept the role of Deathlord.  He would regret his choice only once.


Thus the ten original Deathlords were sent into the Underworld, where they went about their business and devloped their powers.  Vanos, now known as the Ash and Iron Master of the Ebon Sunrise, disappeared.  He travelled the all of the Underworld, reflecting on its dark glory with crazed glee.  He made no contact whatsoever with the other Deathlords...indeed, he made contact with virtually no one.


The contagion was discovered.  A first congress of the Deathlords was called to gather their might for a single swift blow against Creation.  Yet the Ash and Iron Master did not respond.  Had he been swallowed by the darkness of the Underworld?  Had he been destroyed by a terrible power?  The other Deathlords pondered, but gave little other thought to the possibility of his destruction.  The Ash and Iron Master was quite "alive", just not responsive.  The Malfeans themselves summoned him to the congress, and his reply was a scoff.  He was no ones toy.  His brilliance knew no bounds.  In his arrogance he built mighty armor that repelled the powers of the Malfeans in their own domain.  Even their whispers were mute to his ears except during the darkest nights.  


Enraged, the Malfeans slowly coaxed him towards the Abyss.  At night they whispered into his ears, speaking of mighty powers that lay in the Void, waiting for him to come claim them.  Drawn in by the promise of some mighty artifact, the Ash and Iron Master descended without a word into the black spiral.  He was never seen again.  He was heard, however.  For when he found his way deep enough into the Labyrinth, his foolhardy arrogance was exposed.  The scream physically shook the entire city of Stygia.


The Malfeans were tired of his arrogance.  He would be no use to them like this.  He was ambitious, which was useful.  He was brilliant too, as well as talented.  All other traits were...unnecessary.  So the Malfeans took their wayward servant and laid his mind upon the anvil that is the Void, and there they shattered him.  His very essence was sundered into multiple fragments.  The Malfeans worked these fragments back together until it was that he was a newly made creature.  His mind was broken beyond any repair, that much was certain, and his powers were diminished, but he was still mighty.  So altered, the Deathlord was returned to the Underworld with the call of the Malfeans guiding him.  


In the southern edge of the Isle of Sorrows, far southwest of where the Pasiap's Stair lay in Creation, the Ivory Crow Atop a Pillar of Jade awoke.  He felt only patience.  He saw only the essence of the world, and it was good.  He would change things to his liking, though he need not rush the process.  Almost immediatly he began construction of a gigantic Manse, the Pillars of Jade.  His Malfean masters had given him his title in the hope that their Deathlord would indeed stand atop a pillar of jade, a metaphor for the Imperial Mountain.  They had not expected him to take it so literally, but he had.  


The Ivory Crow set about constructing a tower so tall, so mighty, that it could not be comprehended by mere mortals.  He would not be heard from for decades.  In the bleak Underworld he sent his agents out to collect new allies.  Ghosts were being brought in by the hundreds to his Manse stronghold, though to what end, few knew.  Eventually his monstrous tower pierced the nighttime sky and over time a dozen more towers would rise up beside the original, though none were as great as the first.


So the Crow toiled in the darkness.  Indeed, the Manse of the Pillars of Jade was not a simple tower surrounded by guard stations.  Those were the smokestacks of a factory empire being built in the womb of the Underworld.  A massive city was being constructed under the gray dirt, using thousands upon thousands of ghosts as both craftsman, and as mortar for the foundation of the massive, sprawling city.  The gigantic machine city continued growing under the constant supervision of the  Deathlord, its mighty gears always turning, always pushing its walls further and further outward.  


One day, however, the great cities gears stopped turning.  It was rebellion.  A ghost who fashioned himself a hero organized the slaves of the Crow and made open revolt against the tyrant.  The Crows loyal forces and automated defenses were quickly bested by the monstrous show of force, until the Crow was himself trapped at the very bottom of his Manse-City.  In his own pit the ghosts had trapped him.  They had defeated a Deathlord.  Their celebration was short-lived, however.  The Crow activated the true power of the Manse, the true power of the city.  It's purpose became horrifically clear.  


All the city resonated as the Crow turned his weapon, his magics, upon the populace.  It was but a song.  A song that, in the devilspeak of the Malfeans, spoke nameless terrors into the hearts of all.  It was, in a more detailed description, a self-propagating Void circle necromancy, its gigantic power fed by the Manse, a conduit to the Void itself.  All perished save for the Crow, who cracked a grin for the first time in an Age.  His test was complete, and it was successful.


Yet his work force was all destroyed, sent into the Void, or into Lethe as a result.  Or, so it should have been.  The destruction was not total, for all the structures still stood, all the mechanisms still worked perfectly, and the ghostly slaves were guaranteed to return.  For the walls of the great Manse-city are not typical.  They do not merely keep the earth out, they also keep the ghosts in.  The endlessly thick, runed walls encasing the entire city and the towers above all permit no exit by the ghosts, whether into the Void, or into Lethe.  


To perish is merely to evaporate, only to be recomposed in one of many thousands of regenerative vats, where the essence of the ghosts who had faded is slowly but surely recollected and recompiled.  In that stunning blashphemy, the Crow had made himself an eternal workforce, people who could literally never return to the cycle of life and death.  It was the principle reasoning behind the rebellion, and when the rebellion failed utterly, it proved that their was no escape.  Not even defeat was an end to the suffering the Crow inflicted upon his servants.  Those who proved especially unwilling to work were quickly dealt with, soulforged into the more important parts of the city itself.  It is how the Crow maintains control even today.


So the Crow toiled.  That is, until the Second Congress of the Deathlords was called.  He arrived swiftly, and was most pleased to discover that his whereabouts had been quite unknown by his compatriots this entire time.  Yet he was most pleased by the advent of the Abyssal Exalted.  They were the link to Creation he had been waiting for this entire time.  He built his death-engine in silence and in darkness, but had no means of delivering it unto Creation.  Similarly, it was not complete.  He could flood his own city with the killing magics, but he had made it for the purpose of killing all life in Creation in one bellow...something he could not do without certain...materials from Creation, as well as the scions to herald his entry into the bright world of the living.  


He requisitioned a number of Exalted that is thus far unequaled among the other Deathlords.  Only the Mask of Winters has an amount even close, for the Crow possesses no less than ten shards.  Exactly how the Deathlord accomplished this feat is still unknown, though the other Deathlords bitterly believe it is because of his "re-creation" by the Malfeans themselves.  In that manner he is almost certainly the Malfeans most trusted Deathlord, hence the excess of Abyssals given to his command.  


When the time came, it was the Ivory Crow who engineered the construction of the massive giant who would destroy the Jade Prison.  The giant ultimately succeeded in that regard, at least to some degree, and even now remains quite under the Crows control.  He is a trump card the Deathlord is more than willing to play if the situation requires it, but for now he'd be content with the tutelage of his newly acquired black messiahs.


The Citadels of the Ivory Crow:


The Pillars of Jade


The only place actually associated with the Ivory Crow Atop a Pillar of Jade, and for good reason.  He has made his presence quite unseen outside of his powerbase at the Pillars, though he has been known to venture to his other stations of power from time to time.  Yet the Pillars of Jade are the Crows first creation, and perhaps his most satisfying.  For they, like every part of the Crow, serve a larger purpose, one of undeniable terror.  The first tower to be constructed is massive, its base is the size of a small city, its spires reaching up to the black heavens above the Underworld.  It is without a doubt the highest man-made peak in either Creation, or the Underworld.  


The first Pillar has quite a bit more utility than any of the others.  At its base is a labyrinth of traps and barrack's to house the Crows small but well-disciplined force of war ghosts.  It is extremely difficult to traverse, for it initially started as an effort to create a simulcrum of the Labyrinth itself.  The Pillar houses all variety of gears and twisted mechanisms which constantly propel the labyrinth to strange, varied changes.  


Not even the servants of the Crow are permitted safe passage through these dark, trap-ridden corridors, for the Crow has a strict feeling of survival of the fittest.  If one cannot pass through force or through wit, then they are not worthy to see the majesty of the heights of the Pillar.  The war-ghosts housed in the outer-rim of the maze do not ever venture inside, unless it is at the behest of their master, for they know their are dangers in there that cannot be defeated with sword and spear.  Indeed, the Crow has made a small "animal sanctuary" as he calls it in the maze itself.  All manner of Plasmics and spectres haunt the place, making it utterly impassable for all except those who know the way.  It was, in that way, very much made to replicate the madness and evils of the actual Labyrinth, but it pales in comparison to that terrible thing.  Still, it is very much a deterrant for any who would see the Crows secrets revealed.  


Midway up the Pillar is a factory area where many of the gears and automation comes from.  Here the various ghostly servants of the Crow go about their business of overseeing the mechanical construction of the Pillar, and repairing the nightmarish contraption.  It is not a difficult place in the least, certainly nothing compared to the maze below.  Any who actually manage to survive the maze and find their way to this place would be saddened to discover such a utilitarian, treasure-less and well guarded place.  


High at the peak of the Pillar is the observatory, where few are permitted.  Here the Crow works tirelessly, always reading the stars, creating new charms, sorceries and necromancies, or plotting new additions to his terrible machine.  This is the Ivory Crows laboratory, his place of work first and foremost.  It is guarded by a nearly endless supply of vicious automata and chained spectres, but its defenses do not hold a candle to the depths of his true edifice, the Ashen Obelisk, which lay below the Pillars.


The other Pillars of Jade are not particularly notable, just fascinating creations spawned by a mad mind.  Each is entirely mechanical and can be moved up and down, and in some cases even expanded, according to the whims of the master engineer himself.  Needless to say, the many scouts and spies of the other Deathlords get rather confused when the Pillars are of a particular height one day, and the next day they are quite different.  Yet the center Pillar never changes.  It just sits in silence, its owner always watching.


The Ashen Obelisk


The true invention of the Ivory Crow is not the Pillars of Jade of his namesake, but the mechanical masterwork called the Ashen Obelisk.  It is known to none outside of its borders, save for a few.  The ghosts who are herded into the central Pillar of Jade are never heard from again, for they are escorted into the Pillars spiraling depths, which give way to a monstrous cityscape that expands out into the horizon.  Many spies have found their way into the Ashen Obelisk, and all have happily congratulated themselves on their brilliant insertion into the forbidden place...but none leave.  There is simply no way out of the city.  


Her entrances are leagues below a difficult maze, which opens only to permit entry and closes again to deny exit.  Even if a ghost were to somehow, -somehow- manage to escape the well regulated working schedule for enough time to devise an exit, the fact is that there simply are no ways out.  Even the Ivory Crow utilizes a specialized teleportation system to come and go.  The only things that could possibly garner entrance, or exit, into the well-warded place would be the Void Circle necromancies, Barless Gate and Black Faith, but one would first have to -know- of the city before attempting such an entrance.


The Ashen Obelisk was originally little more than an underground temple, a Manse that was capped underground for the sake of secrecy.  However, as time went on, eventually the Ivory Crow expanded her walls outwards, creating a city-sized contraption that used the power of the Manse itself to push the walls of the city outward, all the while underground.  It's a painstaking procedure, but one with impressive results.  Already the Crow has expanded the city beyond the Manses borders, and now the entire Manse is little more than the power core of the beast.  Yet the Manse would lose power if completely encircled by the clockwork city- it would simply have no connection to the outside world.  That problem took the Crow some time to resolve, but has since been accomplished through a complex network of essence aquaducts, as it were.


The ghosts of this place work tirelessly to constantly repair and maintain the tremendous number of mechanical parts, never ceasing, not even for death.  The walls of the city bear strange, empowered runes on every inch, much of which was transcribed by the Crow himself.  These runes refuse any exit, even by ghosts passing to the void, or to lethe.  When a ghost loses all ability to go on, and has no reason to exist anymore, as occurs frequently in the hostile slave environment of the Ashen Obelisk, they evaporate and transcend.  


Or, that's what they should do.  Instead they dissipate and are then recollected as their essence is forcibly sent into a regenerative chamber, where they are reformed and returned to work, perhaps after a significant "motivational session" with one of the Crows automated Taskmasters.  So there is no escape from the Ashen Obelisk, not even for the sake of the void.  After all, the Void may hunger, but she always does and always will.  The Ivory Crow is content to give the void her fill when the time comes, but for now, she must be denied for the sake of victory.


The Ashen Obelisk has one purpose.  An enigmatic one, but one that is known to some.  Its walls push apart, its essence conduits continually feed the Manse, but why?  Why the expansion of the city, why the fueling of the Manse?  Why the automation, why the terrible enslavement?  Simple: To kill everything and anything.  One would expect that desire from a Deathlord, but the Crow is taking it to a new level.  The Ashen Obelisk may be a bastion, unassailable and untouchable, but her purpose is not that of a fortress.  In its dark heart is a miniature void.  It is the ultimate creation of the Ivory Crow, his greatest prize, and the only one in his collection not his own.  It is the Eye of Autochthon.  


More accurately, it is what happens when the Eye Of Autochthon is buried and appears in the Underworld as grave goods.  During the time of Vanos the Bold, the Eye Of Autochthon was carefully ushered into the Underworld as grave goods, the Creation version still quite intact, as is the case with all grave goods.  Yet despite Vanos' best efforts, the Eyes powers could only be replicated once, and even then, only in a very specialized manner.  The Malignant Eye had become a terrible thing, its powers of destruction rivalling that of the Void (Which raised a few questions about the nature of the Void itself).  


The Malignant Eye now lay at the heart of the Manse in the Crows most hidden sanctum.  By using such a powerful ingredient in his most malicious Void circle Necromancy, the Ivory Crow developed a spell capable of killing anything.  Funnelling this power through the various power conduits all over his expanding city and then directing its terrible energies into the beautiful Pillars of Jade, he hopes to create a musical instrument that will literally play Creations funeral march.  The Pillars act as pipes to the Organ that is the Ashen Obelisk.  


The Ivory Crow is near to his goal.  Soon his weapons legs will sprout, soon his efforts will pay off.  The constant expansion serves a purpose- his city needs legs so as to burst forth from the earth, for only then can it walk to the top of the Imperial Mountain, where it will make its notes heard.  It is only a matter of time now, with his Abyssal Exalted watching over his holdings in Creations and improving his workers efficiency.  It's only a matter of time before the darkness has its time over the world.


The Onyx Forge


The Ivory Crow Atop a Pillar of Jade has but one fortress in Creation, and but one shadowland at his disposal, and they are nowhere near his terrible contraption.  The Onyx Forge lay in the eastern region of Creation, directly southeast of the city of Marin Bay, where it meet the River of Tears.  In fact, the Onyx Forge -bridges- the entire river, it is that large.  In all fairness, the forge itself is quite tiny, located in the dead center of the river, at a particularly shallow, tight point.  The entire place was constructed through some variety of Solar magic during the First Age, but was since claimed by all manner of ghastly bandits and the like.  Eventually a Dragon Blooded exile of Lookshy named Karal Slati purged the place of the ragtag bandits and replaced them with a more vicious syndicate.  He quickly claimed lordship over the greater region and used slave labor to create a makeshift canal network bridging the entire river.  


Soon Karal Slati had established himself as a merchant prince through wicked dictatorial tactics and fierce loyalty in his men.  He (over)taxes anyone who comes through his part of the River of Tears, which has turned him into a wealthy man.  That wealth and the protection his little syndicate offers has brought countless peoples to his little city-state, including one who took particular notice of the Forge that lay in the Manse at the heart of the sorcerously created place.  The dark depths of the Forge were quite usable, though long since raped by the Terrestrial Exalted- there were little materials left to create artifice, but plenty of capacity to do so.  All it needed was the resources.  And so an agent of the Ivory Crow came to Karal Slati and offered him an alliance.  


Karal Slati, being wise and greedy, demanded ridiculous sums of money for the use of the Forge.  Needless to say, he was rather shocked when the Ivory Crow sent the requested monies.  A procession of minions sent by the Ivory Crow came into the Forge every night for several years, and then they just stopped.  There was little contact between the Dragon-Blood and the dark powers that were consorting just beneath his capital.  If ever his men grew too curious, their heads were returned to Slati, but their bodies were put to more constructive uses.


Eventually Slati demanded to know more of what was going on.  He threatened to have Lookshy enter and wipe out the lot of them if his curiousity was not sated.  Rather than kill the man and make an enemy of the surface dwellering inhabitants, the Ivory Crow acquiesed, permitting the Terrestrial to see but a bit of the operation.  Not the entire thing, but a few parts.  Nonetheless, Karal Slati was impressed beyond words.  It was then that Slati realized what he was teaming up with...and how much money there was to be made.  


Karal Slati immediatly contacted the Guild and through a variety of contacts, began bringing in slaves by the hundreds.  He didn't care what they were being used for, it didn't matter.  So long as he got his due payment as the middle man and the protector of the Onyx Forge, he was happy.  Soon, at the behest of the Ivory Crow, Karal Slati began operating gladiatorial bouts inside and above the Onyx Forge, which brought in considerable profits.  Little did Slati realize, the deathgames being constantly practiced at the Forge were speeding its fall into Shadowland.  In fact, a Shadowland already exists at the uttermost depths of the Onyx Forge, where countless thousands of slaves have been ritually sacrified over the years.  


Karal Slati is perfectly happy in his place, which is now little more than that of the Ivory Crows puppet in Creation.  He even wears Dragon Armor that has been specially modified by the Deathlords favored Abyssal craftsman.  Currently Karal Slati is more or less a figurehead for Onyx Forge, his men slowly but surely being utterly subjugated by the power of the Void.  She Who Denied The Sunlight, a Moonshadow caste Abyssal Exalt, even now works her manipulations upon the weary Dragon-Blood, and even now tightens her grip on the entire city.


The servants of the Ivory Crow:


Seventh Salted Wound On the Wastes


Daybreak Caste


Head of Operations in the Ashen Obelisk


The Seventh Salted Wound On the Wastes is a friendly, determined and generally good guy.  It comes as no surprise then, that he is not counted among the Ivory Crows favored servants.  Although the Crow adores all of his Abyssal Exalted, he throws his favor on another over the Seventh Salted Wound.  That fact aggravates the Salted Wound to no end, for he strives to see his master look well upon him most of all.  He would ride straight into the heart of doom if his master requested it of him, though he would surely do so against his better judgement.  For the Seventh Salted Wound On the Wastes is a brilliant man, an impressive swordsman and a talented necromancer.  However, his real skills comes forth in managing the vast Manse-City that is the Ashen Obelisk, where his engineering expertise are put to use.  


He was, at one time, a prodigy in the Heptagrams branch academy for mortals, sponsered by his own House Ragara, until he was killed when a fellow student botched an experiment.  Or rather, until he was nearly killed.  He was saved miraculously, and soon his road turned dark, and led him into the heart of the Underworld.  Sometimes he longs to return to that world of riches and etiquette, but for the most part he is too busy working to keep the Ashen Obelisk in tip-top shape for his master.  The Salted Wound has only one true weakness: He is far too timid to be the head of operations of the terrible concentration camp that is the Ashen Obelisk.  Still, he can become truly brutal and merciless should it benefit his cause...for that would cast him in a favorful light for his Deathlord.


Scarab of the Descending Star


Day caste


Martial Artist


To say that the Scarab of the Descending Star is arrogant would be an understatement.  Yet he does not hail from a Great House like the Seventh Salted Wound On the Wastes.  He does feel the whispers of the Malfeans upon his ears like the Weeping Mother of the Rancorous Catacombs.  Nor does he venture into Creation while controlling an entire city like his compatriot, She Who Denied the Sunlight.  Instead he trains.  He trains tirelessly, going weeks on end without a wink of sleep.  Some believe his eyes are sown open, though that is not the case.  He starves and dehydrates himself, he meditates for days at a time, all in search of something he himself does not entirely understand.  His training routine is brutal and endless, pushing him towards his mastery of the Martial Arts, which he has taken a particular interest in.  


As a mortal he was a martial artist under the guide of a Dragon-Blood who wielded a Terrestrial Style.  He always longed to become so powerful that he could use the Terrestrial styles, so he subjugated himself to such wicked rituals that he in fact, nearly killed himself.  It was then that the Ivory Crow took him in and offered him the chance to learn a style far surmounting his previous master.  Already the Scarab of the Descending Star has mastered several martial arts styles, among them, the Hungry Ghost style.  It is believed that he trains in initiation into the third circle of Martial Arts, the Sidereal styles.  Indeed, many believe he already possesses charms not seen since the First Age, taught to him by the Ivory Crow himself.  The Crow enjoys teaching Scarab in this way, for it is the only time he removes his armor or shows his true face and body.  The Crow looks upon Scarab as his most favored disciple, seeing the Abyssals methodical, albeit self-destructive nature as a sign of great strength.


She Who Denied the Sun


Moonshadow caste


Emissary of the Ivory Crow and Vizier of Onyx Forge


What is there to say about She Who Denied the Sun?  She is a pitiful thing who thinks she is powerful.  She fancies herself a princess and takes great pleasure in taking all variety of suitors.  She would almost certainly fit in more in the court of the Lover Clad in a Rainment of Tears, if only because of her manipulative nature and sexual appetites.  However, her sophmoric scheming serves a purpose, for she brings countless new minions under the umbrella of the Ivory Crows influence.  She is the golden tongue of the Crow, using her wits and wiles to gather all manner of craftsmen and artificiers in the Onyx Forge.  She permits any to use the higher levels of the Forge, though those that use the First Age workshop are expected to pay a considerable fee.  Should any wish to stay for an extended period of time (as many do, after She Who Denied the Sun works her ways upon them), they must sign a contract affording much of their labors directly towards making items of use in the Crows laboratories.  


Already She Who Denied the Sun has accumulated a very impressive assortment of artifice, a tax paid to her willingly by those wishing to enjoy the fruits of the Onyx Forge.  A significant force of war abominations lay in the depths of the Forge, waiting for the Lady of the house to call them into action, though that may very well never happen.  Also at the bottom of the Onyx Forge is a portal, specially built by the Crow himself, which permits two-way travel to and from the Ashen Obelisk.  If she is nothing else, She Who Denied the Sun is a valuable link between the Ivory Crow and Creation.


The Weeping Mother of the Rancorous Catacombs


Midnight caste


High Priestess of the Ashen Obelisk


Some of the power used in the massive engine of annihilation below the Pillars of Jade is actually produced by the ghostly slaves themselves, in the form of forced worship.  Long ago the Crow realized that in dire situations, people tend to turn to religion as a way out.  Noticing that the conditions in the Ashen Obelisk were as harsh as they come and that many ghosts were given to praying, the Ivory Crow established the position of High Priestess.  She would direct all prayer and run various ceremonies, which not only improved worker morale (if only by a little), but also sent forth motes of essence into specially built temples, which funneled the energies of worship into darkness itself.  Originally the position was held by a Nemissary, but the Ivory Crow felt that an Abyssal Exalt would do a better job of inspiring the masses.  Thus far he has been proven quite correct, for the Weeping Mother of the Rancorous Catacombs has quadrupled the amount of essence gained via worship since her arrival.  


Yet the Priestess is more than just a worker bee.  She is a quiet, young girl no older than eighteen, who wishes more than anything than to be free of her nightmares.  The Malfeans speak to the Weeping Mother nightly, always pouring poison in her ear and corrupting her gentle mind, driving her to the edge of the precipice of madness.  The Ivory Crow has not noticed her plight, as she is quite careful to keep the whispers a secret...she does not wish to be discarded like the previour Priestess, who was soulforged into a lovely staff for the Weeping Mother.  However, not long ago the Weeping Mother went into the Labyrinth, alone and unguarded.  There she descended into the depths, prepared to plummet into the Void just to remove the screaming in her soul.  In one final plea for mercy, she begged the Abyss give her tranquility.  Suddenly, it was so.  For hours she sat, dumbstruck, on the edge of the Void.  


That is, until a new voice came.  He spoke sweetly and sounded very much like her master, the Ivory Crow.  He gently beckoned her deeper into the Void, until she was so deep into the Labyrinth that she was very much as far down as existed.  There she met a benevolent, but terrible force.  He called himself the Ascending One and proceeded to quiet the voices that plagued her.  Soon she left the Labyrinth, returning to her lair in the Ashen Obelisk.  Yet she could not forget the man who expunged the evils from her minds eye.  However, soon enough the voices returned, and soon enough she delved into the Labyrinth, seeking peace.  The Ascending One remained there, always willing to help her, always willing to slow the madness that was encroaching on her heart.  Now she travels to the depths quite often, her way never hindered by Nephwracks or by the shifting maze.  It is only a matter of time before the Ivory Crow discovers this apparent treachery, and only a matter of time before the Weeping Mother discovers what real pain is.


Sidebar:  The Second Shard


The Ash and Iron Master of the Ebon Sunrise was quite a powerful ghost when he was torn apart by the Malfeans.  He was truly mighty, that is without a doubt.  However, the Ivory Crow was not so mighty.  After all, much of his essence was shattered and thrown into the Void, leaving the Crow quite diminished in comparison to the other Deathlords.  That fact alone actually sparked the First and Forsaken Lions midguided foray against the Crow just before the Second Congress.  However, the Ivory Crow would thrive all the same.  Amazingly, the same can actually be said for another fragment of his essence.  Saved, whether by luck or through the workings of another Neverborn, a fragment of the Crows essence did -not- plummet into the Abyss as was intended.  Instead it reformed at the absolute bottom of the Labyrinth, taking the shape of a man.  Slowly but surely the thing became a thinking, growing ghost, a truly magnificent thing to behold.  Its mind churned and even became brilliant, like an idiot savant it acted like a child but could solve any puzzle.  As the years went on, it became mightier and mightier, until its presence was noticed by a Nephwrack, one who fashioned herself the ruler of all the Labyrinth.  She waged war against the thing, assuming it was some Hekatonhkire trying to take her throne.  She was killed, as was her vast army of Mortwrights and Plasmics.  Any who opposed the brilliant, vicious thing were quickly dispatched.  


Yet in the darkness of battle it grew more intelligent, to the point where it was as smart as a man.  It was then that it labled itself the Ascending One and began a campaign of terror against the other Nephwracks.  Already he has brought to his side hundreds of the damned things, and now his armies grow mighty and insatiable.  War rages endlessly in the depths, and the Ascending One becomes only stronger in the madness that takes place there.  Day by day his legions take more and more of the Labyrinth, and day by day his strength grows.  He is already just shy of a Deathlord in terms of sheer power, so it is no wonder he has become so mighty and feared.  Yet he is not known of beyond the Labyrinth.  Even there he is spoken of more as a myth than as a ghost.  Some think the Ascending One is actually the name of a Malfean bent on pushing the Nephwracks to the surface of the Underworld.  Indeed, the worship and love of the Ascending One has become endemic in the darker portions of the Labyrinth.  However, the more sane Nephwracks that exist in the shallower portions of the Labyrinth look at such worship as heretical nonesense practiced by those that strayed too close to the Voids influence.  But the Ascending One does exist, and he is coming.  


He has already recruited a scion of his own, an Abyssal Exalt that even now serves him more than she serves her true master, the Ivory Crow Atop a Pillar of Jade.  Through her the Ascending One has learned of the rest of the Underworld, and of the Ivory Crow.  Little does the Ascending One realize, to wage war on the Underworld and the Crow would be to wage war against his very own essence, albeit one modified by the Malfeans.  Truth be told, the Ascending One is more like the original Deathlord than the Ivory Crow.  He may not have the same mechanical expertise, as that was casually extracted by the Neverborn, but he still has the ambition, and much of the power of his former self.  All the same, he moves higher and higher each day, his armies growing and his terrible skills only improving.  It won't be long before he releases his might on the all of the Labyrinth, and after that, Stygia.


Though the Ivory Crow does not actually know of the Ascending One, he has always felt a particular desire to delve deep into the Labyrinth, though he dares not.  In his heart the Crow still remembers, if only subconsciously, the terror that destroyed his former self in those deeps.  So the Crow has staunchly avoided the Labyrinth whenever he can, choosing to not even go to Stygia unless summoned by a Malfean master.  However, should the Ascending One make his presence known to the Crow, it will immediatly become obvious that they are of the same essence.  


The Ascending One would attempt to destroy the Crow on the spot under any circumstances, while the Crow would be more apt to subdue his opponent so as to somehow reform the pair into a singularly powerful being.  Given the Ascending Ones inexperience on the surface world, as well as the ungodly intellect of the Ivory Crow, the Crow would undoubtedly get his way, though it would take some time.  Should the Ivory Crow successfully remake himself by combining his and the Ascending Ones essences, there is no question that he would be the most powerful Deathlord in existence.

 

[Hanat-Osul]

It takes cohones to create a Deathlord; the stakes are high already because WW did such a good job creating the ones in A:B and because they're inherently complex material.  So it's no small compliment when I say that you're on to something here.


The Ivory Crow is good because he changes.  You've crafted a compelling narrative for him and put it in a good setting (the Pillars).  The 'Second Shard' material is interesting, too, in large part because it shows your willingness to depart from/ experiment with canonical ideas and conventions.  And props for outlining his primary deathknights a la A:B.


When I get around to posting the Grim Potentate (a Deathlord who's playing a pretty major role in my current Solar chronicle), your feedback would be most welcome.

 

[DeepFlowingRiver]

Amazing work man, clap clap. I wanted to keep learning about this guy when I finished. Therefore I am demanding you write a book. There...it is settled.

 

[Haku1]

This is amazing work... very nice and sweet.