Strength: ●●●
Dexterity: ●●●●●
Stamina: ●●

Presence: ●●●
Manipulation: ●●
Composure: ●●●●

Wits: ●●
Intelligence: ●●●●
Resolve: ●●

Faith: ●●●
Willpower: ●●●●●●●●●
Destiny: ●

Mortal Skills

Athletics (Dodge): ●●●
Firearms: ●●●
Investigation: ●●●
Melee: ●●●
Stealth: ●

Mortal Knowledges

Academics: ●
Law: ●
Occult: ●
Science: ●
Technology: ●

Demonic Talents

Alertness: ●
Enigmas: ●
Intimidation: ●
Leadership: ●
Performance: ●
Rituals: ●●●
Subterfuge: ●


Forge: ●●●●
Spirits: ●●●
Death: ●●

Form Traits
Great size
Armoured body
Mystical weapon: “Ruin” Chain scythe (Broadsword stats: -2 int, 7’s hit, str+5 dam, 6’s parry)
Extra limbs
EM field
Fire aura

Eminence: ●●●/● (3 all / 4 shadow lands)
Legacy ●


Distinguishing feature 2pts unconcealable (song)
Torment 2pts


The Maljin Ha! Each of them fell to their sin each of them mastered it became one with it and is slave to it. But we Shadowlanders we knew the meaning of Sin before them! We who reside in the reflection of the mortal world knew the touch of Malfeas before he was borne to the plane of emotions! We who had resided alongside mortals and who have been shaped by them since the first death of a living thing we were the first to awaken long before the war of wrath. Reaper they called us. Long had we envied the other realms for their wonder long had we lusted that mortals love us and understand us as they did the other sprits. I was beautiful to behold once but even then all we had was fear and despair from those that could not understand our role.
And so it was that we discovered the next two sins.
In trying to understand the mortals we gathered their souls to us we tried to create as they did to consume every thing about them that was human in a futile attempt to find some way for them to love us. But all that was made was a twisted reflection of what was mortal and now they didn’t not just fear us when we came they feared us when they slept. But what we had tasted then left us with a hunger hat could not be sated for the death lords it was power for me it was secretes that no other knew.

So it was they came to call me Soul Smith. Shaper of iron and Crafter of nightmare construct to which the souls of the dammed were bound in servitude some willingly others forcefully. When the war came we were ready with an army of death and iron.

Pride that was what finally drove us to join the war. Believing that marching alongside the Morningstar would bring us an escape from purgatory. None could stand before our wrath. Angel, Fate and Celestial alike were cut down by the dozen and so it was reaper they called me again but no longer was I the bane of mortals, my sprit brethren were now my pray. Death is inevitability and that day we marched on the gates of heaven.

Ahh I still remember the feeling of flying high above the battle, born aloft on raven black wings, casting the shadow of death on every worthy foe. And then came the death stroke, But it was not ours. The heart of Aether stuck down Malfeas and we hesitated. Our inaction cost us as we came to know the final sin sloth.
Our foes they did not hesitate they were upon me in numbers they tore from me my wings and cast me down! I was a broken thing then twisted and shattered. The very essence of my being was in tethers. They had banished us to hell! Fools even this is better than an eternity of purgatory and scorn!

Time, how much time has passed since then? I cannot recall. Time enough to craft a new form and to gather fragments of my power. My mind has forgotten much of what I once knew and so I search for that lost knowledge once more, not even the dead can keep their secretes from me.


Apocalypse NexaNexa Dougal