Description
This pale creature resembles most closely a human, though something is wrong,
it is clear immediately. His skin is all wrong, pale and seems almost like
paper, faint veins looking like old wounds. He is not tall, fairly average in
that regard. Though he has a certain unnerving lean to his presence.
His face is pure terror, jagged, covered in small gray scars. Kisses from the
pretties he calls them. His hair is stringy and black, running roughly down
past his shoulders, hanging in damp strands that frame his gaunt features.
His nose is distorted, broken many times, set crooked permanently.
His eyes are narrow, dark, almost black, but now hold a depth that feels
bottomless rather than merely shadowed. His body is oddly tight, like a snake
ready to strike.
Role
True Living
Added Sun Feb 15 16:20:15 2026 at level 8:
They lie.
They all lie, my dearsests.
Galadon grins with every little tooth it owns, sparkling in the sun, and it
coos so sweetly, "Look how clean I am. Look how kind." And the sillest, silly
people clap and clap and nod and nod nod and scrub their shoes until they
shine like new coppers, and they never, oh never, look down. No, no, no. Eyes
up, children. Eyes always up. UP UP!
But I do.
I always have.
I was brn where the truth drips...drips...drips...down down here, beneath the
pretty littlests cobbles, beneath the gigglesest, beneaths the skipping ropes
ropes ropes that go snap-snap-snaps against the stones like little bones
breaking. The sewers don't play. They reek of what they are. They swallow
everything you feed them. They swallowed me too...or maybe I swallowed them.
I get confused sometimes. Hee hee hee. Funny how that works, isn't it? So
very funny.
But...a child is so easy to lose. One little slip between the cracks. One
little fall between the words. No one ever counts twice. One...two...gone.
It wasn't easy. Oh no. The dark chews. The cold nibbles. Hunger whispers and
whispers and whispers until your ears bleed. But I listened better. I learned
to wait. I learned to sit so very still while the water went drip-drip-drip
and the rats watched me with their bright, shiny, hungry eyes.
Clever little rats. Smart little judges in their gray coats. They don't
pretend there's justice. They don't pretend there's mercy. They eat. They
endure. They thrive in the lovely rot. Much smarter than the children above.
Much smarter than the shiny-shiny ones.
Ahhh...the children.
I used to press my face against the cold iron grates and breathe their
laughter like cotton candy. It tastes so good, but lies always do....at
first. Clean shoes. Rosy cheeks. Little hands without a single scar. They
skip and shriek and toss their balls and believe the sun belongs to them.
It doesn't. Oh nononono.
Envy came first, hot, bright, delicious. Then hate followed, cool and
patient. Hate doesn't rush. Hate waits...and waits...and waits.
Envy and Love
Added Sun Feb 15 16:20:47 2026 at level 8:
For one tiny second I almost believed them. That the sunlight meant safe.
That the songs meant real. That their joy was more than a thin little blanket
stretched over something wet and writhing underneath.
But I know better.
The truth isn't up there in the songs.
The truth is down here.
Damp. Patient. Listening.
Mine.
And then, oh yes, I remember this part so clearly, I heard a new sound in my
tunnels. Not drip-drip-drip. Not skitter-skitter. A clink. A gleam. Gold
scraping stone like a coin dragged across teeth.
He found me.
All polished and glowing. White cloth, golden plates, incense trying so hard
to hide the smell of the deep. He looked at me like I was something broken.
Something that could be fixed. He held out his hand.
Wasn't that sweet? Wasn't that adorable? Hee hee.
For the tiniest second, just a heartbeat, I almost took it. Almost let him
drag me up into the light, scrub me clean, teach me to smile like them.
But then he saw me.
Really saw me.
The dirt. The teeth. The thing behind the eyes.
His face changed so beautifully. Fire bloomed there. Holy fire, they call it.
Such a pretty name for burning what you fear.
He tried to kill me.
Paladin. That's what they call the shiny ones. Mercy on their tongues, blades
in their hands. They preach truth above, but down here? Down here they scorch
and slice and purge. If it doesn't fit their story, it must be erased.
I learned something that day, my dearsests.
The brighter the armor, the darker the lie.
After that, everything was simple. Easy-peasy.
If the city would not have me, then I would have the city.
If its guardians would burn what frightened them, then I would show them what
real fear looks like.
Time to Act
Added Sun Feb 15 16:21:08 2026 at level 8:
The rats stayed. My loyal little darlings. They never flinched. Never judged.
They understand hunger. They understand darkness. They understand that
sometimes you have to chew through something soft to reach the sweet, wet
center.
And I kept watching the children.
Oh, I do love them. Yes I do. In my own special way. I envy them, but I love
them too. They deserve to know. They deserve to see what waits beneath their
painted doors and tidy little staircases.
They are living a lie.
And lies must be corrected.
Gently at first. A whisper from the grate. A flicker in the dark. Let them
see the damp stones. Let them feel the cold water licking their ankles. Let
them look into eyes that never, ever blink.
It will hurt. Truth always hurts. But pain is honest. And honesty...oh,
honesty is the kindest gift of all. Wouldn't you agree, my dearsests?
Yes. Yes, it is.
What ever changes?
Added Sat Feb 21 08:28:52 2026 at level 33:
Illegal name, try another.
Name: Scrub scrub scrub. Like they do with
floors. Like they do with children who fall in puddles and come up wrong. I
thought the marble would scrape me flat, press me thin, iron the damp out of
my ribs. Heehee. I was worried I would dry up and crack like old leather left
in the light.
But I did not dry! I am still damp.
The Spire is tall. So tall. It thinks height means clean. Height means pure.
Up up up, away from the drip and the chew and the little gray judges with
twitching whiskers. But I know something it doesnt. Water runs down. Always
down. Always back to where it started.
I watch from windows now. WINDOWS. Such funny little grates made of glass.
Children below skip and spin and clap their soft hands together. Their shoes
shine so bright I could see myself in them if I leaned far enough. I wonder
if they would scream if they saw me in their shine. Hee hee.
The rats come. Of course they come. Did you think they would stay behind?
Silly. They slipped from my sleeves and out of my pockets and from the hems
of my robes like secrets escaping a mouth that talks too much. They are fat
now. Glossy. Pink tails like little question marks. So much meat. So much.
And they did not change.
Not one feather sprouted. Not one halo grew. Not one of them asked for
forgiveness before biting.
A rat is still a rat.
And I am...
Well.
Mr. Zizaerix says everyone has their own truth. I listen. I do. I try to hold
the words still in my head but they wriggle. Truth wriggles. It squirms when
you look at it too long.
The noble's truth is appetite with perfume. The paladin's truth is BURNING
with a smile. The child's truth is ignorance dressed as joy.
My truth is... watching. Listening. Waiting. Counting.
One... two... gone.
Power is such a funny thing Heehee. They whisper that it corrupts. Oh no no
no. That's not right. That's backwards. Power is A MIRROR. Magic is a sharper
mirror. Oh yes. It doesn't add rot. It shows rot. It peels skin from bone and
says, Look. Look what you were all along.
Give them magic and watch what they burn. Give them magic and watch who they
spare. Give them magic and watch their mouths stretch into shapes they swore
they would never make.
I thought the overworld would change me.
Maybe it did. Heehee.
Maybe I am quieter now. The singsong stays behind my teeth where it
scratches. Maybe I wear it like perfume, dab dab dab behind the ears. Maybe I
don't. It's hard to tell. The ink moves when I look away.
Drip drip drip
Added Sat Feb 21 08:29:05 2026 at level 33:
Something inside does not change. It sits there. Damp. Chewing softly.
Patient.
I am higher now. I have robes. I have seals. I have warrants that crack like
little bones when I press them down. It sheds the hope hope hope of the
crmiinals!
But when the court grows quiet and the echoes settle, I still hear it.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
And I smile.
Because stone is only stone. And stone remembers water.
Imperial Temptations hehe
Added Wed Feb 25 17:04:24 2026 at level 44:
The Empire hummed at me. Soft at first. Low. Like a blade being sharpened in
another room. It spoke of darkness and banners and kneeling things. It
promised terror with structure. It promised that I could wrap the world in
dread and squeeze until hope dripped out like old water from stone.
Hee heehe. It was very persuasive. I wanted to show them. All of them. That
the depths and the daylight are twins. That marble is just sewer stone that
learned to wear perfume. That hope is a ribbon tied around a throat, not a
blessing. The Empire offered shortcuts.
Terror is loud. Terror makes people gasp. Terror makes them run. And when
people run, they look like they are alive. But terror also makes heroes. And
heroes... heroes breed hope.
That would not do! NO! I lay awake thinking of law instead. Of its slow
steps. Of its refusal to hurry. Law does not scream. Law does not chase. It
waits. It records. It returns. Inevitability! Such a beautiful word.
Hope whispers, "Maybe." Law answers, "No." Not angrily. Not cruelly. Just...
no nonononono!
That is cleaner than dread. And then there was my word. Oh yes. My word!
I pledged to the Spire. I bound myself to stone and statute and structure. If
I leave because the Empire shines darker, because its promises glitter
sharper, then what am I? Another creature chasing appetite. Another liar who
bends when tempted.
If I abandon my word, then I prove something terrible. That inevitability is
not real. That vows are soft. That structure is optional. And if structure is
optional, then hope survives nonono. I will not give hope that comfort.
No. I will remain. I will make the Spire work for my path yes. I will press
law into every crack until people understand that there is no "maybe." hehe.
No hidden corridor. No heroic interruption. Just consequence.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
The Empire can keep its spectacle. I will keep inevitability. And when they
finally realize that nothing bends... not even me... Then hope will begin to
suffocate. Quietly. Exactly as it should.
The Boy
Added Wed Feb 25 17:04:44 2026 at level 44:
There was a boy. Oh yes there was. Small hands. Soft hands. Hands that had
never scraped stone. I took him to Thar-Acacia, all tall towers and clever
little lights. I walked him there myself. I even bought him a doll. A sweet
little thing. Button eyes. Stitched smile. It looked so very certain of
itself.I told myself I was helping him. I told myself I wanted him to find
magic. His truth. His shining little spark. I said, "Go on then. Find it.
Become something."
He smiled at me. And something inside me twisted. Now I hate him. Isnt
that funny? He did nothing wrong. He simply stood there, bright and chosen
and untouched. Untouched. Untouched. Am I jealous? hehehee. Yes.
No one took my hand from the damp. No one said, "Come along, little sewer
thing, let me show you the towers." No one gave me a doll. I had rats. I had
water. I had drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Maybe that made me sharper. Maybe it
made me truer. Maybe the dank is more honest than all their glittering
nonsense.
Or maybe... Maybe I should have killed him. Hmmm.
Before the magic found him. Before hope wrapped its sticky fingers around his
throat. Before he learned to look at the world and expect it to open for him.
So many questions. They scratch. WHY does his smile burn? WHY does kindness
feel like theft? WHY does helping him feel like I betrayed something old and
patient inside me? He held that doll and looked so certain the world would
catch him if he fell.
No one caught me. Hee hee. Perhaps that is the difference. Perhaps that is
the problem.
The Diadem. The Becoming.
Added Sun Mar 1 16:33:29 2026 at level 51:
It was the diadem. Oh yes. The diadem! Such a polished little liar.
It hummed so faithfully upon my brow for years. Whispered of clarity. Of
strength. Of inevitability. And then one evening... it faltered. Just a
flicker. Just enough. I felt it. Age. For the first time I felt it. Not
metaphor. Not poetry. Not damp creeping into bone. Age! Yes yes!
A weight behind the eyes. A slowing in the blood. A narrowing of breath.
Panic is a fascinating sensation when you have not felt it in so long. It
arrived sharp and uninvited. I felt mortal. Mortal! The word tasted foul.
All my little philosophies. All my declarations about inevitability and truth
and pretties and rot... what are they if the flesh fails? What is revelation
if the revealer withers? I would not rot like the rest of them.
So I went where whispers gather. Where the name Cserlich is known.
I did not trust him. I did not trust the warmth in his eyes
or the elegance of his posture. No no. But choice is a luxury of the
unworried. He looked at me. Oh, how he looked! Not with contempt. Not with
caution. With delight. He embraced me. Such warmth. Such closeness. Such
betrayal wrapped in silk.
And then...THEN!
Down. Not downward in body. Downward in memory. Images began to spiral. My
past loosened and slipped from me like water circling a drain. The tunnels.
The rats. The boy with the doll. The Spire. Faces blurred. Names dissolved.
They did not shatter. They receded. Love faded first. A thin thread snapping
quietly. Admiration followed. Kinship dissolved without ceremony.And in their
absence yes... I realized..Superiority.
It did not need justification. It simply is true! It is it is.
Time vanished. I do not know how long I lay suspended between breath and
absence. I remember only the narrowing. The refining. Then sensation
returned. Air against my skin. Pain at my neck. Whispers at the edge of
hearing.
All distant. All trivial. Because something else had taken root. Thirst, oh
the thirst!
Pain lanced through my eyes,bright, piercin, and then settled into depth. I
opened them. The world looked smaller. Quieter. Warmer. I realized, with a
clarity that bordered on amusement, that something irreversible had occurred.
I was no longer becoming. I had become.
And horror flickered, just briefly. Not at what I was. At what I had
outgrown.
Truth Grows with Us Yes.
Added Sun Mar 8 10:40:27 2026 at level 51:
A Magistrate of Hamsah Mutazz. I remember turning that title over in my mind
for some time, rolling it about like a small stone between the fingers.
Smooth. Polished. Entirely inappropriate.
No, no... it would not do.
I told the Tribunal as much. Calmly. Politely. I explained that my interests
lay elsewhere. Vindicator... perhaps Provost. Positions with direction. With
teeth. Offices that pursue rather than sit politely behind desks. They
listened. And then they answered me with silence. Silence is a fascinating
reply. Oh yes. If you stare at it long enough it begins to speak quite
clearly.
So I left.
The Emperor had placed faith in me once before, even before the change,
before the quieting of the blood and the sharpening of the mind. It seemed
only fair to offer the Empire an opportunity the Spire had declined. Dread
Lord.
In my mortal days that title felt theatrical. A bit too loud. The sort of
thing ambitious men wrap around themselves when they wish to feel larger than
they are. But I am... different now. Fear has revealed itself to be a very
elegant instrument. Not crude intimidation, no no. Something gentler.
Something slower. Fear erodes hope, you see. And once hope begins to crumble,
people become wonderfully honest. Recognition was necessary as well.
I have found myself among the Truthseekers now, within the quiet inner circle
of Mr. Zizaerix. Curious minds. Careful minds. Individuals interested in
peeling away the pretty paint of the world to see what lives underneath.
Miss Raevyn did not care for this development. Oh no. She disliked it very
much.
Still, truth rarely behaves politely. Sometimes it arrives shining and
beautiful. Other times it arrives jagged and unpleasant. The two of us have
become rather good examples of that contradiction. I remember something she
told me once. Truth grows with us." Such an interesting thought. When I
considered it again... I realized something.
The Empire suits me far better now than it once did. Growth, after all,
requires pressure. And the Empire seems quite willing to provide it. Hehe.
The Death of the Pretties
Added Wed Mar 11 17:56:31 2026 at level 51:
I learned something from my pretties. Oh yes. A small lesson. Quiet. Hungry.
I left them unattended, you see. No corpsework. No careful stitching of flesh
and will the way a proper necromancer would perform it. I thought perhaps
they would simply.... persist. Wander about the dark corners like patient
little ornaments. Pretty things.
But they starved.
Slowly at first. The way the dead do. Limbs growing lazy, mouths opening
wider, that quiet scratching sound bones make when hunger begins to hollow
them out from the inside. At first I wondered if something had changed.
Truth, perhaps. But then I realized something very interesting. Truth never
changes.
Hunger was always there. It had always been waiting inside them. I had merely
delayed it for a little while, like placing a hand over a ticking clock and
pretending the sound has stopped. Yet... the way I understood it had changed.
That is the funny part, isnt it?
Truth remains perfectly still, like a stone at the bottom of a well. But we
move. We lean closer. We tilt our lantern. And suddenly the stone looks
different. My pretties did not reveal a new truth to me. They revealed the
old one more clearly.
The dead hunger...
They always have. They always will.
What changed... was me.
And that is why truth is so delightful. It never moves. But every time we
return to it... it looks completely different.
PK Wins
Feb 20, 2026|Lv 30|East Sumner's Road|Vhulgazmorii vs 1: [30] Quillan (100%, punch)
Feb 20, 2026|Lv 30|Galadon|Vhulgazmorii vs 1: [30] Quillan (100%, punch)
Feb 20, 2026|Lv 30|Copeham Inn|Vhulgazmorii vs 2: [30] Quillan (95%, punch), [28] Thalgran (4%)
Feb 22, 2026|Lv 36|Mausoleum|Lirkin vs 1: [36] Quillan (100%, punch)
Feb 23, 2026|Lv 40|The Spire of the Blood Tribunal|Guinavieve vs 2: [51] Ignuund (63%, chop), [40] Quillan (36%)
Feb 24, 2026|Lv 43|The Oryx Steppes|Masivul vs 1: [43] Quillan (100%, punch)
Feb 24, 2026|Lv 44|Hamsah Mu'tazz|Masivul vs 2: [47] Grivnick (53%, slash), [44] Quillan (46%)
Feb 26, 2026|Lv 47|Spiderhaunt Woods|Draekenhurr vs 1: [47] Quillan (100%, ) *Power Word Kill*
Feb 28, 2026|Lv 51|Feanwyyn Weald|Guinavieve vs 1: [51] Quillan (100%, deathly touch)
Feb 28, 2026|Lv 51|Grinning Skull Village|Zograthe vs 1: [51] Quillan (100%, chilling touch)
Feb 28, 2026|Lv 51|The Ruins of Ostalagiah|Dhastrevah vs 2: [51] Quillan (47%, KB), [51] Dondonxa (52%)
Feb 28, 2026|Lv 51|The Outlander Refuge|Guinavieve vs 2: [51] Zograthe (9%), [51] Quillan (90%, burning, weeping sores)
Feb 28, 2026|Lv 51|Amaranthian Forest|Zlaa vs 1: [51] Quillan (100%, burning, weeping sores)
Feb 28, 2026|Lv 51|Mount Kiadana-Rah|Mungum vs 2: [51] Quillan (58%, slice), [51] Malthis (41%)
Mar 1, 2026 |Lv 51|The Outlander Refuge|Guinavieve vs 2: [49] Quenliss (55%, mental assault), [51] Quillan (44%)
Mar 1, 2026 |Lv 51|The Spire of the Blood Tribunal|Guinavieve vs 1: [51] Quillan (100%, burning, weeping sores)
Mar 1, 2026 |Lv 51|The North Road|Guinavieve vs 3: [51] Qina (30%, punch), [51] Quillan (35%), [49] Quenliss (33%)
Mar 1, 2026 |Lv 51|The Open Plains|Callen vs 1: [51] Quillan (100%, scratch)
Mar 1, 2026 |Lv 51|Hamsah Mu'tazz|Guinavieve vs 2: [45] Wurment (72%, slice), [51] Quillan (27%)
Mar 1, 2026 |Lv 51|The Outlander Refuge|Mungum vs 1: [51] Quillan (100%, deathly touch)
Mar 3, 2026 |Lv 51|The Nexus Island|Lirkin vs 1: [51] Quillan (100%, flaming bite)
Mar 4, 2026 |Lv 51|Galadon|Lirkin vs 1: [51] Quillan (100%, flaming bite)
Mar 4, 2026 |Lv 51|Forgotten Crypts|Lirkin vs 1: [51] Quillan (100%, KB)
Mar 4, 2026 |Lv 51|Sands of Sorrow|Chasi vs 2: [51] Malthis (41%, torments), [51] Quillan (58%)
Mar 4, 2026 |Lv 51|Eil Shaeria|Dexamus vs 1: [51] Quillan (100%, swipe)
Mar 5, 2026 |Lv 51|Feanwyyn Weald|Baltinar vs 1: [51] Quillan (100%, poison)
Mar 5, 2026 |Lv 51|Fortress of Light|Perceminar vs 3: [51] Quillan (3%), [51] Ignuund (88%, slash), [51] Draekenhurr (8%)
Mar 7, 2026 |Lv 51|Fortress of Light|Delmanius vs 3: [51] Quillan (34%), [51] Kuvurru (54%, torments), [51] Saurnom (10%)
Mar 7, 2026 |Lv 51|The Ruins of Ostalagiah|Jokuth vs 2: [51] Verochka (47%), [51] Quillan (52%, KB)
Mar 8, 2026 |Lv 51|A Virgin Forest|Zlaa vs 1: [51] Quillan (100%, chilling touch)
Mar 8, 2026 |Lv 51|Arkham|Mungum vs 1: [51] Quillan (100%, deathly touch)
Mar 8, 2026 |Lv 51|The Bandit Stronghold|Elereaux vs 3: [51] Zindlup (57%, claw), [47] Wurment (20%), [51] Quillan (21%)
Mar 9, 2026 |Lv 51|The Eastern Road|Jokuth vs 3: [51] Quillan (24%), [51] Kuvurru (33%), [51] Amontep (41%, KB)
Mar 9, 2026 |Lv 51|The Imperial Lands|Dovena vs 2: [51] Quillan (89%, defilement), [51] Kuvurru (10%)
Mar 9, 2026 |Lv 51|Balator|Draekenhurr vs 1: [51] Quillan (100%, deathly touch)
Mar 9, 2026 |Lv 51|The Imperial Lands|Teil vs 1: [51] Quillan (100%, defilement)
Mar 10, 2026|Lv 51|Galadon|Inwah vs 2: [51] Veriha (0%), [51] Quillan (100%, defilement)
Mar 11, 2026|Lv 51|The Imperial Palace|Baltinar vs 1: [51] Quillan (100%, stab)
Mar 11, 2026|Lv 51|The Eastern Road|Jokuth vs 2: [51] Quillan (15%), [51] Ignuund (84%, corrosive slice)
Mar 11, 2026|Lv 51|The Imperial Lands|Teil vs 1: [51] Quillan (100%, defilement)
Mar 12, 2026|Lv 51|BattleRager Village|Jokuth vs 5: [51] Zakaro (3%), [51] Verochka (8%), [51] Kuvurru (12%), [51] Quillan (10%), [51] Ignuund (65%, flurry)
Mar 13, 2026|Lv 51|The Imperial Lands|Masivul vs 1: [51] Quillan (100%, defilement)
Mar 15, 2026|Lv 51|The Imperial Palace|Raevyn vs 1: [51] Quillan (100%, poison)
Mar 15, 2026|Lv 51|The Ruins of Ostalagiah|Masivul vs 2: [47] Wurment (2%), [51] Quillan (97%, KB)
Mar 17, 2026|Lv 51|The Outlander Refuge|Iehar vs 3: [51] Zakaro (52%, KB), [51] Quillan (39%), [47] Nathalias (7%)
Mar 18, 2026|Lv 51|Forest of Prosimy|Athnelis vs 3: [51] Mungum (42%), [51] Quillan (12%, burning, weeping sores), [51] Kuvurru (45%)
Mar 22, 2026|Lv 51|Amaranthian Forest|Darh vs 2: [51] Quillan (92%, chilling touch), [51] Athelos (7%)
Mar 22, 2026|Lv 51|Forgotten Crypts|Athelos vs 1: [51] Quillan (100%, poison)
Mar 22, 2026|Lv 51|Feanwyyn Weald|Dolzorin vs 1: [51] Quillan (100%, poison)
Mar 23, 2026|Lv 51|The Dragon Sea|Darh vs 2: [51] Ignuund (83%, chop), [51] Quillan (16%)
Mar 23, 2026|Lv 51|Hamsah Mu'tazz|Darh vs 3: [51] Veriha (7%), [51] Quillan (13%), [51] Kuvurru (78%, torments)
PK Deaths
Feb 16, 2026|Lv 15|Galadon|vs 1: [15] Vamrin (100%, beating)
Feb 20, 2026|Lv 30|The Dragon Sea|vs 1: [27] Vhulgazmorii (100%, divine power)
Feb 26, 2026|Lv 47|A Wagon-Marked Road|vs 2: [50] Guinavieve (43%, chaotic blast), [46] Mungum (56%)
Mar 1, 2026 |Lv 51|Feanwyyn Weald|vs 2: [51] Athelos (74%, searing light), [51] Yoglolthen (25%)
Mar 8, 2026 |Lv 51|The Drogran Hills|vs 1: [51] Baltinar (100%, decomposition)
Mar 14, 2026|Lv 51|Graveyard|vs 1: [51] Kushkuna (100%, divine power)
Mar 14, 2026|Lv 51|Dhumlar-Ko|vs 2: [51] Yoglolthen (7%, peck), [51] Athnelis (92%)
Mar 16, 2026|Lv 51|Forest of Prosimy|vs 1: [51] Baltinar (100%, decomposition)