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Subject: A peek into the myths and Lust Demons rss

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Paul DeStefano
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This is from the never released campaign book.

There were to be several campaigns. Each played through like a which way book - based on player decisions as well as the outcomes of previous battles, the course of future battles would change.

One of the campaigns was a short one (I think it would run 3-5 scenarios, depending) called "Demonic Intent". Each campaign started with a narrative intro. Here's that intro. Once the painting is through mod, I'll add it as well.

I present to you an earlier draft (later revisions are lost to history and Adiken's demise):






Children Of The Third Day.

“They were born,” Milius begins as he places a huge leathery volume onto the meeting table with a thunderous boom, “on the third day.”

The wretched smell of the tome fills the room. Milius very slowly lifts the large cover and dust rises from the pages within. He carefully turns the browned pages, each crackling with age as he touches them with delicate fingertips. A single page at a time, he proceeds into the book. Some pages appear blank. Others are covered in awful runes, strange, complex and difficult to look at. The sergeant is about to ask a question when Milius turns a page which is accompanied with a sound of distant screaming. The scream clearly comes from the pages of the book itself, as the screaming echoes away when another page is turned on top of it.

“First was Olysa. She is the eldest and the leader.”

“Third day of what?” the sergeant manages to ask, gathering her nerve.

Milius looks up with a curious smile.

“Third day of what?” she repeats.

“The third day. Ever,” Milius pronounces slowly.

The segreant leans back in her chair and looks to the Queen. It is only the three of them in the meeting hall. The Queen looks back in earnest.

“How can we be expected to kill something like this?”

“Kill?” Milius asks incredulously. “No. They cannot be killed. But they can have their corporeal connection to our world severed.”

The sergeant looks blankly back.

“You can destroy their bodies. They will come back in the future,” Milius explains in simpler terms.

“Why am I the only one in this meeting?”

“The nature of these creatures,” the Queen begins, “Is that of lust. Desire. You will lead a squad of troopers against them. In defense, they will become forms to startle the largest group of attackers. We must be sure their leader is least affected by their appearance. A woman. Leading men.”

“Now, we must be clear on this,” Milius interrupts. “You will still fall victim to their whims. You will still be subject to their lies. But we feel that perhaps they will be taken aback by a woman leading the attack. In the recallable past, only men have been their prey.”

“Have they ever been beaten?”

“Oh, yes,” Milius nods. “And thought killed countless times. But they are never truly destroyed. Within every person there lies a seed. A piece of your very being which cannot be denied. Lust. Every heart that beats adds to their power. And always will.”

“Then why fight? Why put my men at risk?”

“Sereg has contacted them. He asks their aid,” the Queen explains. “We must stop them before they have a chance to work out whatever nefarious contract they negotiate. If he needs to pay them with the lives of men, it will only fuel our need to stop this from going any further.”

“How can we defeat them? How has it been done in the past?”

“Thismat Feyune, a sorceror of ancient days once created three artifacts of such intense manna that they cannot even exist in our world,” Milius says as he turns pages in his book. “He destroyed two of them. Then he himself fell to their wills and recreated them. This book tells of his research.”

The pages creak and Milius turns it to face the sergeant.

“They separated the great artifacts so that no one may assemble them together again, sure that it would mean their simultaneous demise, which would make it far more difficult to open gates into our world. However, each artifact unto itself wields power of such a degree that we feel they must be key points to our attack. Each demon guards one artifact.”

“Weapons?”

“The first is the Rose.” Milius points in the book to an elaborately etched rose.

“A flower? I’m expected to kill a demon with a flower?”

Milius takes a deep breath. “Yes. A flower. A flower grown on a frozen mountain and watered in the blood of a dragon. Legend holds that the scent of the rose stills the hearts of men and grants them the strength to deny the lust of the demons.”

“That sounds useful. What else?”

“The Star Of Feyune. The light of it slows the demons down. The last one should be more to your liking. The Sword Of Prophets. The wielder will be able to actually warp the fabric of the future, molding it to their needs. These weapons can defeat the demons.”

“How powerful are they? The demons.” asks the sergeant. “What are they?”

Milius frowns. “They are the culmination of man’s desires which he cannot quell. They are your darkest needs which you do not reveal even to yourself. They are air when you cannot breath, they are food when you are starving. They move with speed even elves envy. Their weapons are harsh, edged in fire and forged in shadow. They wear no armor. Just clinging silks and lace over perfect forms that any man would want. Steel - in their eyes. Impossibly wise. Their skin flickers with a sparkle and fire of unknown origin. They can command the hearts of men through the desires of flesh. Yet their sensuous lips cover fangs and consciousness like a snake. The demon’s kiss will kill. Legends tell of them being struck solid by archers sent to silence their songs, yet they did not die.”

The sergeant shrugs. “Fifty men against each. We will capture your artifacts and kill, excuse me, destroy these demons.”

Queen Lomlindë and Milius exchange sideways glances.

“Nine,” the Queen says clearly. “Only nine may go.”

“Nine men against a demon,” the sergeant winces. “If they are anything like you have told me…”

“Nine,” the Queen repeats, “Against all of them.”

The sergeant laughs. “No.”

“A portal to their lair may only be opened from our world once every new moon, which comes tomorrow night, under blackened skies, at the totem of the rubric scarab.” Milius says tightly. “And that portal allows nine to walk through. Never more.”

“So all nine of us travel to the first, slay it and continue to the next.”

“Not quite. When you go through the gate you will choose which of their three lairs to enter. From there…” Milius stammers for a moment. “We… We really can’t get you back. From there you will need to go to their meeting place.”

“Where is that?”

“The center of tomorrow.”

The sergeant simply smirks at the absurdity of her mission.

“From their meeting place, we think you can return. But they will try to stop you. You know your troops better than we. I wish I could tell you more of their nature, but I cannot. You will split your forces as you see fit. But be aware that once you proceed to the meeting place, any sister you have not killed will be there.”

“So if I take all of my men to one lair, then we must face the other two to get home?”

Milius nods.

“And if we weaken ourselves to attack two, then the last one at least will be there?”

“I fear so,” the Queen says. “This is the only way. We don’t know what Sereg is doing communicating with these creatures, but it must be stopped.”

“Will I know which artifact is guarded by each?”

“Oh, yes, yes, of course,” Milius nods enthusiastically. “That I can tell you.”






Special Rules:
At this point, the Light player must divide all available forces and decide which to send to retrieve The Rose, The Star and The Sword. They may choose to send all characters to one if they wish, or divide them however they see fit. Continue from here by playing whichever scenarios the light side has sent forces to.

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Paul DeStefano
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The paintings from the book were just declined by geekmod as being irrelevant...


 
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Paul DeStefano
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Here we go:

From a slightly late episode in the same sequence:
 
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