Alias (for the mask itself): The Mask of Many, The Faceless One, The Soul Well
CVcU Demon Name:
Silok'tur, Binder of Souls
CVcU Familiar Name:
____________
CVcU Description: A Lesser Demon born ages ago, the inhabitant of the soul well acts as the wielder of an ancient force far more dated and powerful than he. The soul well itself is the pit of a greater demon's stomach, the place where the ether of a man goes to dissolve into sustenance when consumed, but by clever manipulation the demon that inhabits the mask siphons this demon's mighty power for itself, lapping up the remains of souls and sparing those it chooses from destruction, that it might give physical form to their warped spectres and use them to inhabit the waking world of men.
It is for this reason that he mask prowls, to steal souls and add to its own personal collection, to corrupt their forms into something of greater utility in the process of possession, and of course to feed, but such an existence presents little challenge, and the creature itself has grown weary of the cycle of killing and rebirth. So it is that it seeks a "master", one it hopes to tie itself to, that it might escape the mundane life of slaughter it has engineered for itself.
As a familiar Silok'tur can offer immortality, for he can call the departed soul back into the body at his leisure, so long as the contractee refuses the entrance into a mundane afterlife and instead submits to entering the soul well. There their soul will dwell in the gently rocking waters as the ancient demon restores their body in the waking world.
What the demon does not announce, however, is that with every death he cures Silok'tur may leave a part of his own tainted soul in the contractee's own body, an attempt to allow possession as he sees fit. Whether he takes advantage of this feature is up to his own whimsy, though the well informed may always stipulate against it when contracting.
When wearing the mask (given as a token of good-faith when contracting) his master may choose to assume any form that Silok'tur might, utilizing the forms of animals at his/her leisure without expending their own magical energies.
Origins: The origin of the "Mask of Many" dates back to a ritual conducted over two thousand years ago. An elder conqueror in he Pacific commissioned the mask to celebrate his conquest of the many islands he had taken over the decades, requesting that the shamans of each conquered territory place their most powerful enchantments upon it, or be responsible for the eradication of their peoples. Most acquiesced, placing charms of good health, longevity, of bountiful harvest and ample rainfall upon the mask. Only the tribes of Durere (natives to the area that would become the island of Dulce) refused, claiming that they would not tamper with the foul magics known to plague their land. Furious, the conqueror slay all who inhabited the island, leaving the sea around it an ominous red.
He sent his own holy-men to the forbidden depths of the jungles there, into the night black pits of unnatural caves, the well worked stone they glanced within an anachronistic oddity, a relic sent back into their own time.
Inside this cave, with its odd symbols and odder still structure, the primitive magicians found a black well of obsidian. They could feel power surging from it, sinking into their bones, tempting them to come forth and drink of its power. Into those depths they lowered the mask, and when it returned to them the mask had gained a new power, and, unbeknownst to them, a new inhabitant. They brought it back to their elder, who would wear it for the rest of his days. He would live until the ripe old age of four hundred and thirty seven before his subjects gathered the nerve to kill him. Before his body returned to the earth he would clear all life from the islands, waging a one-man war against the entirety of his united island nation. His soul would never return to his homeland, but such was not so for the creature in the mask.
The Mask: The Mask of Many draws forth victims in their slumber, dragging their minds' into itself while they dream. Should they again fall asleep within the mask's dream realm their bodies are free for the mask to control. In this state it possesses them. If the victim is strong of will, and does not sleep within its world, it instead offers the victim power in the waking one. Immeasurable strength, speeds unheard of in men, and the temptation of eternal life serve it well. If a possessor should die, the mask can return them to life unwounded (or as wounded as it likes). By doing so the mask gains trust and leaves a bit of its mind in its possessor, to speak to them (or take hold of them) as it wishes.
The mask itself is not the creature. It acts as a connection to the soul well, depositing the souls there for its main body to feed upon. Even the body the user possesses, once killed and returned, partly consists of the essence of the Mask. The mask itself is a crude physical link to the horrors in the well.
Current Wielder of the Mask The mask needs no wielder, for the body it holds is now its own. The soul will peek through when it demands, and suffer in the agony of eternal damp and dark until then.
Real Name: Sven Boneka
Alias : None
Gender : Male
Hair Color: Blonde
Weight: 90lbs
Age: 12
Eye Color: Black
Height: 5'1"
Super Power Origin: Cursed Artifact
Equipment: Mask (generates own equipment/changes in biology)
Identity: Hidden/Secret
Place of Birth: Island nation of Dulce
Likes: Drawing, painting, sand sculpting.
Dislikes: Bullies. Adult males. Blood. Pretentiousness Jerks who think they're so great.
Sven Boneka is one of those carefree kids every adult is always jealous of. He lazes about, never goes to school, and plays at all hours of the day or sleeps if he isn't doing that. He tries to maintain a positive outlook in life, usually appearing upbeat and jovial, but he does crack from time to time to reveal a slipping sanity and immense paranoia and fear of the world around him.
Current Death Count : 1
Strength: Average male pre-teen
Intelligence: Low-Average
Speed: Average
Durability: 2
Forms Note: Any and all of these forms may be utilized (without relinquishing consciousness) if the user is of a stronger will than the form that would possess him/her. If he or she is not, the will of the possessing soul will instead take hold until it has done what the user has willed it to, though in a manner fitting its own will. CVcU Exclusive: As with humans, the Mask of Many is fully capable of assuming the forms of animals the greater demon it siphons from attempts to consume. It often assumes these forms when attempting to hide its own power. Unlike humans, the creatures that dwell in the soul well have no alternate "true" spectral form, and so it inhabits a body that exactly replicates that which they were in life.
Cape Cobra
A snake notorious for cannibalizing its own kind, Silok'tur has chosen this form as a poetic equivalent for the which he forces his human forms to perform, setting them against their kin that he might reap their souls as benefit.
Bearded Vulture
Another favored form of the demon that inhabits the mask, the vulture is an allusion to its true self, the one that consumes the scraps from the very gut of the greater demon it steals from.
Non-CVcU Grendel: A once proud warrior who, in honor of his service to the gods and the impressive tally of enemies vanquished, was given the Mask of Many. Prolonged exposure to the mask eventually drove him insane, and the last life he took was his own. His memory and nature were warped by the mask's dark power, and while his true name escapes him the name given to him by Sven reflects what he has become: a monster.
Intelligence : 2
Strength: 5
Speed: 2
Durability: 7 (Body erupts into self-restoring dust)
Energy Projection: 3
Fighting Ability: 5
Possession Resist Difficulty: 8/10 (Example of Equivalent: Digging bullets out of own body without anesthetic, cauterizing wound afterwards)
The finest warrior of his generation, the once proud fighter now serves the spirit inhabiting the mask. He once drew pleasure only from measuring his skill in combat, but ever since his transmutation he now possesses abilities that rob him of even that joy.
In terms of intelligence Grendel maintains his average intelligence, a mind which has devoted itself to a life of battle. With his renewed life came a tenuous grasp on his sanity, this has made him unpredictable, prone to sudden bouts of extreme violence. When he does appear he often avoids speaking at all, the entirety of his attention focused on keeping himself in check.
His strength has increased a hundred fold, as such no average warrior can challenge his might. Combat is more and more a chore to the warrior, a mindless task he delves into when frustrated.
His speed when traveling remains the same, but his master would be unsatisfied if he could derive the slightest joy from matching an opponent. The speed at which he swings his blade varies based on how hard he is pushed, an attempt at robbing him of all joy he might find in combat. He is often plagued by the ability to block and parry his enemy effortlessly, his speed and perception both improving until all appears in slow motion, leaving the ensuing battle dull and unfulfilling. This often drives him to grow frustrated, unleashing carnage on all others.
The ultimate joy in combat is always the risk of death, the knowledge that a single mistake could cost you dearly. Knowing this, the mask has made the warrior essentially immortal, each blow glancing off his body and reducing a portion to dust which merely flows back into place when disturbed. The injury is barely even felt, as such sensations might trigger the familiar rush of adrenaline.
Even without the full sensation of pain the nameless warrior continues to be a master of his trade, killing enemies quickly and efficiently. He has mastered the traditional style of his people, wielding his oversized blade with a fluidity and grace that makes his slayings almost artistic.
Equipment: Double Helix Blade
A sword meant to represent the duality of life and death, it was originally used in ritual sacrifices to appease death itself. The logic was that if death was sated with the lives of the village's elder livestock, it would spare their crops and allow new births to develop naturally. As the civilization entered a decline thanks to over-fishing and unsustainable hunting patterns, the ritual changed. People were sacrificed not only to appease the death god but in an act of cold calculation. Less mouths to feed meant less demand for dwindling supplies of crops and meat, and so the new ritual flourished. Eventually the entire civilization died off, destroyed by neighboring peoples horrified at their barbaric practices.
Thus the blade the warrior wields is no longer one designed to reap limbs and sow carnage, though it is perfectly capable of doing so, it is instead used to reap souls. The ritual blade emits a soft pulse when wielded, a glimmering blue light on one end. The glow emanates from fragments of the deceased, the souls taken in its bloody past. These souls are stored for a form of crude energy, allowing the blade to either slice through incredibly dense, durable materials, or bypass physical barriers entirely with a strike aimed at the enemy's soul. Such a strike would kill the enemy if their will is poor, absorbing the soul into the blade to be stored for later consumption.
When focused the sword can produce a short range (5-10ft), ethereal blade of light that targets the enemy's spirit, temporarily jostling it from the body and providing an opening until the soul reenters the body, which it will seek to naturally reinhabit.
Soro A young boy who stole the mask in the hopes of gaining the wisdom needed to save his family from oppressive poverty. He disappeared into the forest with it, but while the mask itself was eventually found, he never was. The boy is often kind, but can also be quite mischievous. He often avoids conflict unless it is forced upon him. His appearance is that of a wooden puppet fashioned in the form of a boy, a reflection of his upbringing in the woods where he lived while also serving as a bastardization of his favorite fairy-tale. His hideous form was passed to him in order to better deny him the love and attention he craved from his family. His is a form unsuited to battle, though his hideous visage often invites it.
Stats:
Strength: 1 -- Brittle, twig-like arms are easily snapped
Speed: 2 -- Can move at the speed of an Average Child
Durability: 3 -- The wooden body is solid enough, but can be broken by means that would damage standard trees.
Intelligence: 2
Fighting Ability: 1 -- Never really fought as a child
Special Ability: Soro can will his body into different wooden forms, making him well suited to hiding in forests or as wooden artifacts.
Possession Resistance Difficulty: 0/10 (Soro must be forced from within the mask. If anything, he would resist entering the physical world)
Natacio An alienated and ostracized fisherman whose bloodline traces back to the extinct tribe that once forged the mask itself. He drew the mask from his net one fateful day, and with it came a great sense of foreboding. He found that he could not cast it away, however. For some odd reason it fascinated him. He tucked it away as soon as he returned to the shore, but soon after it came into his possession he was plagued by nightmares, and would often find signs that he had been active in the night without his knowledge. One night he finally woke mid dream to the sounds of screaming, muffled by the wooden mask over his face. As he removed the mask he could only look on in horror at the mangled bodies laying at his feet, some still alive and clutching their terrible wounds. Covered in gashes of his own, and realizing too late what the mask was, the fisherman set out to sea, casting the mask back into the ocean when at last he could sail no further, all in the hopes of keeping it from human hands before finally succumbing to his injuries. The mask retained his soul, dragging him into the sea along with it, forcing him to emerge as a half-fish, half-human hybrid. Utilizing his body it swam to the shore, haunting generations more and foiling his plot to exile it to the ocean's depths.
Stats:
Strength: 3
Speed: 3 (4 in water)
Durability: 3
Intelligence: 3
Fighting Ability: 3
Possession Resistance Difficulty: 2/10 on dry land (Example: Popping a Pringles can and successfully stopping) 5/10 on shore/near water (Example: Staying silent as someone else takes all the credit for a project you alone completed)
*Can breathe underwater
Bodo The elder who originally commissioned the mask, his spirit now lives eternally within it. A strong leader who once conquered his neighboring islands, the elder is proud and stubborn, and will often come to blows with those who disagree with his point of view or ideas. As in life he often solves his problems with force rather than diplomacy. The mask chose to retain his soul rather than devour it in order to best torment him, a form of penance for the grisly acts he inflicted to ensure its own creation. Still, it admires his violent streak, and his arrogance and willingness to inflict violence often serve it well when attempting to gather more souls. With a body made of rock to reflect his stubborn and obstinate nature, the elder is free to reclaim his youth once more and conquer what he sees, unaware that it is these moments of conquest that are the dream, and the moments of abject horror within the Soul Well that are the reality.
Stats:
Strength: 4
Speed: 2
Durability: 5
Intelligence: 2
Fighting Ability: 4
Possession Resistance Difficulty: 6/10 (Example: Cauterizing own wound)
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