slim
destroyer
❝ IN EACH OF US THERE IS SOMETHING GROWING, WHICH WILL BE HELL UNLESS IT IS NIPPED IN THE BUD.❞
❝ RULES. ❞
-Comply with all RPN rules
-No godmodding
-At least one quality post every other week
❝ ATONEMENT.❞
❝I HAVE WATCHED YOUR FAMILIES FOR CENTURIES. THOSE WHO HAVE PLEDGED TO ME IN PERPETUITY, THOSE WHO I HAVE BESTOWED WITH WEALTH, THOSE WHO I HAVE PROMISED POWER AND INFLUENCE. AND ALL I ASKED WAS YOUR DEVOTION YET I HAVE BEEN FORGOTTEN, NOTHING MORE THAN A LOST MEMORY. BUT NOW IT IS TIME FOR YOU TO PAY THE PRICE OF YOUR FOREFATHERS GREED. YOU ARE MINE, ARE DESTINIES ARE INTERTWINED. THERE IS NO ESCAPE. YOUR WORLD IS MINE AND YOU WILL EITHER ACCEPT YOUR FATE AND AID ME WILLINGLY OR FACE MY WRATH. COME TO ME MY CHILDREN, AND FACE YOUR TRANSFORMATION AND THE WORLD'S RENEWAL AT MY SIDE.❞
—PREMISE.
This voice was heard in the minds of certain individuals throughout the continent at the exact same time. An awful voice, one that made your very bones ache and stomach churn as you were frozen in place, everything around you drowned out. Even when that voice was gone and the sickness no longer wracked your body, you would never feel a sense of normalcy again.
All of you have grown up in opulence, wealth gathered from successful businesses or pure luck that could never be explained by more recent generations. Your families were known for great genes, every portrait displaying beautiful women and handsome men. Not a single health disorder ever known to them and every death in the family from old age, their minds clear of dementia and well in their 100's at the time of their passing. Always a peaceful passing too, one that allowed the family to come together and cherish their final moments. Yet the dying always grew fearful at the absolute end, clawing at their sons and daughters hands before that last breath was drawn, saying that he was coming. Please don’t let him take me.
And so it had gone on for hundreds of years, since the very first families had made their pact with the infamous Jakaal, the demon who is now out for your blood as was promised in the pact all those years ago.
To them he was a god, one they had called to like any cult does and believed protected them. They were peasants, lowest of the low and their village had been constantly under attack from raiders, drought, and disease. Their population of human and animals dwindled alike and nobles ignoring their suffering. Jakaal was nothing more than a tormenter in the beginning, a shadow who found pleasure in making babes wail in the cradle and wives keep the candle lit well into the night. But he wanted more as creatures like him do, and hearing the villagers desperate pleas for anything from a higher power was enticing. And so he answered. They had long gave up on a God at all, just prayers flying out that he used to fuel him. And so he responded to their pleas, choosing a few to whisper to, giving them signs of a presence. He asked for a sacrifice, a scrawny cow from their tiny herd. Many argued, but those who he whispered to demanded it and so it was done. The next time the raiders came, packs of black wolves and crows flew from the woods to meet them. Jakaal told the villagers to chop up the bodies and bury them in their fields and plant their crops, and they finally had a successful harvest. The plagues stopped, and everything was pleasant as long as the sacrifices and prayers continued.
While his loyal believers saw Jakaal as a god, many saw through the grandeur and noticed the grisly nature of his demands and the odd means of the rewards. He had his circle in which he spoke to the most and soon led the villagers, thought of themselves as priests and relayed his messages. Wanting his power to grow, he decided to make a pact with his priests: power, affluence, health―anything their mortal hearts could want for as long as they spread the cult following and a single ancestor from each priests bloodline would be sworn to him. As his power grew, so would theirs. And so on Hallows Eve on a full moon, the pact was made among the priests and Jakaal.
His followers dissipated as the years continued and the once loyal priests who flocked to him soon were too concentrated on their luxuries to continue their practices, and a pact was a pact. The once mighty Jakaal could only watch from the sidelines as his minions and their children forgot their humble beginnings. And so he waited for what was promised to him. The longer the bloodline continued, the greater his reward would be.
And then his teachings were found, his cult began anew as silly teens desperate to look "edgy" turned to him, and he answered once more. His cult exploded in the 1960's and soon he had a church and a devoted following across the continent. His power had reached heights he had never known before, and in his power influx the priests recent bloodlines felt it too. And with this power he is finally making his transference to the mortal plane, and his harbringersof the new world, his world, will begin. All he needs to do is get you.
—CONT.
Your character will be one of the priests most recent and powerful bloodlines in modern America who is peacefully unaware of their families past until the start of the roleplay. As Jakaal's power grows, your character will begin to undergo a metamorphosis as well and acquire powers as his harp-bringers, which starts at the beginning of the roleplay as well. These powers have three ranks, and with each rank your character will become more powerful but less human. Your character will be on the run from Jakaal's cult, and each capture means the loss of their mortal soul and Jakaal being one step closer to his annihilation of your world.
I may allow cult characters down the line or if there are enough priest characters!
❝ you cannot hide . ❞
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