Morthos The God-loather, Raiml'vrull

[*rapsam2003]

Basic Information
Name: Morthos; Raiml'vrull, in Abyssal
Aliases: the God-loather, Faithless*
Gender: Male
Race: Cambion (Tanar'ri)
Age: 207
Profession: Athar, Warlock
Languages: Common, Abyssal, Elven, Infernal, Draconic
Accent: Chelaxian ((formal, cultured tone))

*Sidenote: If you don't know what the Faithless are in the multiverse...

Physical Information
Height: 6 feet/1.8 meters
Weight: 185 pounds/84 kilograms
Body build: Muscular, lithe
Skin Color: Light Grey
Hair style: Shoulder length
Hair Color: Platinum Blonde

Mental Information
Alignment: Neutral Evil
Philosophy: "The gods and powers must be thrown down, their husks cast to the Astral Plane, and even their names forgotten!"
Diety/Beliefs: the Great Unknown / Beliefs lie mostly in line with the Athar philosophies
Warlock Patron: Graz'zt
Personality: Arrogant, Machiavellian, Skeptical (regarding the Powers), Patronizing (towards beings of the Upper Planes)

Additional Information
Gear:
Impiety: A semi-sentient Scythe, forged of metalline, hungry for the energy of the living.
Favorite Drink: Virisian Ale, Abyssal Kynine Wine
Quirks: Carries a notebook containing his Athar sermons, philosophical points, & various research topics.
Weaknesses: zealously in opposition to ALL gods, sadistic, hedonistic

[*rapsam2003]

Backstory:
Thought to be born in Magnimar, on the prime Golarion, he learned of his Demonic heritage as a child - scrounging in Twelvetrees. His capricious tiefling aunt, a warlock, stole him away to Golarion at the age of six (mortal reckoning). Then his aunt abandoned him. And the reality of his Cambion blood struck, breeding mistrust and self-reliance.
At the age of majority, he took the Fiendish name "Morthos" and joined the Hellblood Corsairs, unscrupulous pirates under the command of Belia of Zadoth. Morthos befriended the ship mage, Seddia'a, by taking an interest in black books of eldritch lore. In time, he even came to trust, almost love, a licentious priestess of the goddess Calistria, the Half-Elf woman Vhosilia, who taught him indulgence.
Before Morthos initiated training in the black arts and learned more of his heritage, a tragedy befell his ship. During a "routine" raid on a trader vessel, a flash of light and pain enveloped the Cambion as he (and the others) boarded the ship. When the pain cleared, he saw Vhosilia die in a shower of blood and bile. As the world he knew faded into a flash of chaotic colors, Morthos cried out in agony and rage - sucked into a portal to Sigil, City of Doors!

The loss of his lover turned him away from the gods completely. He seeks revenge on not only the goddess Vhosilia worshiped, Calistria; but on all the gods. To overthrow the Powers, Morthos knows he will need to acquire great power and influence in the Planes! ...

[*rapsam2003]

(( The account of Morthos becoming a warlock, as originally told here: Rituals And Experiments. ))

Soaked in sweat, but grinning triumphantly, Morthos the God-loather stands up to address the demon servant.  ...


Earlier that evening:
Morthos had resolved himself. He would form a pact with a Great Old One, a being alien and unknowable. From his friend Seddiaa's old book, he remembered a ritual that would make contact with Tharizdun. He knew he had the capability to do it, and he needed POWER. Furthermore, he had found a copy of the old dark summoning book in the Night Market today.

How could he avenge Vhosilia without power? The Powers themselves must cease to exist. Let Planeswalkers, Mages, Warlocks, Baatezu, and Tanar'ri fill the void. He cared not. As long as Vhosilia was avenged, it mattered not.
How dare her goddess, Calistria, let her die in such a way?! There was such pain on her face. And he could do nothing! He could not even hold her as she died. While she was dying, he was dragged through the portal to Sigil. How could a goddess treat her faithful in such a way, to let her die without comfort or release?

Vhosilia. Should. Not. Have. Died!

Full of rage, Morthos opens the book in his hands and begins the ritual.

...

Morthos falls asleep at the end of the ritual and perceives this in his dream:
Soaked in sweat, but grinning triumphantly, Morthos stands up to address the demon. The Succubus spoke first, "I am Isireth, an emissary of Tharizdun, committed to his service. He has heard your call, young Cambion. What would you ask of him? Would you form a pact with the Chained God?"
He responded, "I would, but understand he is not a god to me! What are the terms?" Isireth unrolled a scroll, and read the terms. To summarize, he would work to release Tharizdun. He would receive power and knowledge in return. Taking a knife, he cut his thumb and sealed the Pact by placing his bloody thumb where the succubus indicated. He then signed his name next to the bloody mark. The place for Tharizdun's signature was already signed.

"You shall not be disappointed, young warlock!"

Morthos awakes, startled. Initially, he is groggy with sleep. As he begins to remember the dream, he reaches out. A blast of purple-black power shoots out from his fingers! "YES! I shall have more power than mortals know!"

[*rapsam2003]

(( Forward: The events detailed below happened in the Undersigil Temple. ))

Morthos and his recent Illithid acquaintance, Imate, walked into the Ruined Temple. Almost immediately, cultists cried out in surprise and rage, moving to attack the pair. Morthos readied his sword by charging it with eldritch energy and raced forward. The Illithid began preparing to hurl his psionic power towards the cultists.
The cultists used quarterstaves and negative energy spells against the two, swinging high and flinging out their hands. Some of the cultists summoned steam quasi-elementals. Nonetheless, the cultists were cut down swiftly. Morthos channeled eldritch power through his blade and powered through the cultists' blocks in swift cuts. His armor and natural quickness (enhanced by his invocations) allowed him to avoid most of the blows. The steam quasi-elementals were also destroyed in short order.


After the skirmishes ended, Morthos and Imate looted the bodies and began to explore. They occasionally ran into other groups of cultists. These groups were surprised and unprepared, posing no trouble to the two explorers.
In one of the rooms, there was an altar to the Chained God and benches for worshipers. The altar took the form of a raised fountain; and, within the fountain, there floated a long tentacle with an eye at the end. Morthos examined the altar and the tentacle, wondering how anyone would seek to worship his patron as a god. Tharizdun gave him power and demanded favors in return. Strangely, even though he and Imate had killed cultists who worshiped Tharizdun, the great old one still granted power to Morthos. In fact, his power almost rivaled that of the cultists. It was as if Tharizdun cared not for his worshipers, stranded within his own insanity inside the Voidharrow itself.
In another room, Morthos and Imate saw a chalkboard full of magical formulae and equations. As best they could tell, the cultists were practicing rituals to summon beings of power and somehow use those beings to channel power to Tharizdun. If the temple itself was evidence, they didn't seem to even have a chance to create power summoning circles.

Walking towards the western corridors of the temple, an overwhelming presence came over Morthos. Entering a flooded room, the Tanar'ling and the Illithid encountered more tentacles. Great fear came over them and they ran, pursued by the tentacles. A voice spoke in his mind as they fled, one Morthos somehow knew was his patron's voice, "LEAVE HERE AND DO NOT RETURN UNTIL YOU GAIN THE POWER TO OVERCOME THESE MANIFESTATIONS OF MY ESSENCE!" Bursting through the doors of the temple, the two Planeswalkers saw that the tentacles did not follow them through the doors.


Sighing, Morthos spoke, "I must return here when I have gained greater power. There are secrets to be learned here, secrets to be gained about my patron. But I must acquire more power before I can overcome those...creatures!" The illithid sent mental affirmation, and the two parted ways.

[*rapsam2003]

Morthos acquires a "license to preach" and a "license to sell goods". (( Originally detailed in the thread Request For License To Preach And To Sell. ))

A runner arrives at the Hall of Records with a sealed letter for the licensing department.

To whom it may concern,

I, Morthos of the Athar, request a license to preach in public places about the truth of the Powers and their frailty. I also request a license to be allowed to sell goods on behalf of the Shattered Temple, to aid in the fight against the powers. Attached to this request letter are affidavits from fellow Athar, speaking of my good character and general good conduct within Sigil.

Signed,
Morthos

The signature is a large flourish, & next to the signature is the sigil of the Athar.

Miranda, a simple clerk among the fated smirks as the application crosses her desk one day. She grins and rubs her chin in thought and she drafts up a license and appropriate tax form for the "license to preach" even though shes really never heard of such a license being required, if he wants a license for it then the fated will be glad to charge him for it (although the license to preach issue isn't discussed in anyway with the client)

She also issues him a standard merchant license for selling wares, though political affilation with the temple has nothing to do with said license and the word athar never appears on said paper.

He is of coursed taxed for this license as well.

As she places a fated wax seal on each license she smiles, folds the papers and send them off to the man in a neat envelope then she sits back at her desk and rubs her hands together.

Ahh the power of a simple clerk.

As he is reading the words of great Athar orators past, the runner returns. Morthos smiles and hands him a few jink. He rubs his hands together and then opens the envelope. Now, the next phase of his plan to revenge himself on the Powers can begin...

[*rapsam2003]

((These events happened before the current cycle. Morthos is writing them down as he remembers them, a journal entry almost.))


I have been thinking back on the events of the past few cycles, and much has happened. I feel less angry over the loss of my lover Vhosilia now. Below is an account of several events that happened three cycles ago.

Early that cycle, as the light of Sigil first began to brighten:
The bright light of early "morning" came through the window. The view from the Shattered Temple tower was expansive and gorgeous. This beauty was hollow to me, as I stared out over Sigil. I was remembering her again. Oh, Vhosilia! She would have loved this city, so many strange and wonderful sights.
"Why did your goddess have to let you die? Calistria, that callous bitch...", I remember saying. "I wish I could stroke your soft, white cheeks again. Taste your lips. Run my fingers through your red hair. Caress your voluptuous body again. ..." I felt an aching longing, and pain -- of remembrance!

As the light of Sigil first begins to dim:
I stood before the skeletons in the north part of the carnival. Normally skeletons meant either divine magic or arcane magic. I sensed no arcane magic, but had to be sure. The entertainers invited all to join. So, I "hung up my coat", as they called it -- taking off my skin by arcane means for a time -- and danced with the skeletons. It was almost irresistible. When the dance ended, they sowed my skin back on, again by magical means. Afterwards, I headed to the Sensate bar at the carnival, to drink to the private memory of Vhosilia...

Late in the cycle, what they called "midnight" on Golarion:
Things are foggy now, of the time span between when I arrived at the bar until about the end of the cycle. I remember drinking twelve or thirteen orders of the Abyss FireIce Ale. I remember a monk who drank a keg to catch up to me. And fighting with Argent the Signer. I remember that a priestly hat of Lathander manifested, as the Signers call it, on my head. Then, once I realized it was there, I remember throwing the hat on the ground and stomping on it.

But, as my head began to clear later that night, I saw a priest of Kelemvor. The man looks quiet, humble even. Argent was standing near him. The Athar factotums had been encouraging me to debate calmly with other factioneers, especially those who seemed "religious". I was encouraged to think of the great Athar orators past as I did so. "Might as well start now", I figured at the time.
The man's name was "Quinn", and he was a factor of the Sensates. "Why follow Kelemvor?" Quinn stated that he simply liked the thought that someone watched over him, however distantly. I told him that even "good" gods did horrible things, pointing this out as part of the reasons why I oppose all gods. Argent spoke up and said how the gods on his Prime of origin did not receive worship from the populace. There are even some who refused to acknowledge the gods, "mystics" the elf called them. I, of course, found this interesting but I still oppose such gods on principle. We had a genial philosophical discussion along those lines until I headed back to the Temple.

That conversation, it has stuck with me...

I believe that, in that moment, the pain of losing Vhosilia seemed lessened. I shall try to continue convincing, through rational discourse, the other factioneers of the light of truth and reality. The gods are a lie, but they must be made to see that through reason and action. Of course, I still hunt down those Faithful who give cause, such as those who harm the residents of Sigil or those who use divine magic in an immoral way, all in the name of their god!
But I shall be more interested in discussion with residents of the Cage in the future, I think. I feel new purpose now...

Moreover, I shall have to be more careful when drinking Abyss FireIce Ale in the future. My strong constitution not withstanding, I was sore taxed by such potent alcohol. The headache the next day was...not worth it.

[*rapsam2003]

((Below is the account of Morthos preaching in the Bazaar, as originally detailed in : Athar Sermon In The Bazaar.))

Several hours before anti-peak, Morthos walks into the Bazaar. He has his sermon notes in hand and is smiling. Morthos knows many are taking their ease or making last minute purchases, and he deems it a good time to preach. As he walks through the porch of Khazeet's, he calls out to those there. "Cutters, I invite ye to my sermon. I will preach near the Lady's Ward, in this Bazaar tonight. All are welcome", he says with a smile.

He walks toward the Root of Nine warehouse and sets up his travel lectern beside the Debtor's Pole. As he is setting up, he tries to encourage Cagers to join the currently non-existent crowd. "Come, all Cagers! I will preach to you of the 'verse. Hear of the three principles of the Seekers of Truth", he calls out loudly.

He sets his "License to Preach" on the lectern, below his notes; in case an uncouth basher questions his right to speak the truth and expound on Athar philosophy. Then, seeing ten or twelve Hivers and other common Cagers have gathered around, he clears his throat and begins in a loud, clear baritone.



"Cagers, Primes, Planars! Hear me, I beg ye! Let me enlighten ye with the knowledge of truth. My sermon shall be short and simple, but strong." Morthos holds up his index finger to stress this and pauses for effect. "I shall begin by stating three principles: 1) The Principle of Order, 2) the Principle of Contingency, and 3) the Principle of Coherence. These three principles were first stated by Nexatl of Dalea." The Athar pauses for another very brief moment.
"First, the Principle of Order! The multiverse must be ordered so that mortals can induce laws that reproduce the phenomenon occurring in it", he states in a precise manner. The next part he states as if explaining, "Our friends in the Fraternity of Order are always studying the laws of the multiverse. They, my friends, are right to do so. There is an order in the multiverse. It is a knowable order. We must all learn of it and embrace the laws of the multiverse."
"Second, the Principle of Contingency! The multiverse must be contingent so that anything can happen at any time, no matter what laws we have induced dictate. Mortals have the power to extract information from the multiverse. And the multiverse always grows bigger than the sum of all mortal knowledge.", he states in the same precise manner and then continues as if explaining again. "This is good news, friends! There is always more to learn the next cycle than there was the previous cycle. The knowledge we can extract will never end; you will never stop learning. We should learn as much of the multiverse as we can, and thereby increase the sum of all mortal knowledge."
"Third and finally, the Principle of Coherence! The multiverse must be coherent so that events which occur cannot be in contradiction with one another. By extension, contradictions which mortals perceive are the result of inherent incapability to measure, sense, or feel it", continuing as before. "The events in the multiverse are all in harmony with each other, because none causes confusion or nullification when compared to another. Because of those events being coherent, we can piece together events and gain a bigger picture. One event is connected to another and is not made void by any others."
"So, to restate, friends. There are three principles of the multiverse: Order, Contingency, and Coherence. Thes principles work together to grant understanding and knowledge of the truth. Thank ye for your ears!"


The Athar bows ever so slightly and begins to pack up his things. Upon finishing, a few in the crowd issue cat-calls or jeers. Many look confused. However, one or two look thoughtful and seem to be considering the words of the sermon quietly.

Morthos quietly heads towards the Shattered Temple, but is interrupted in his walk by three Planeswalker acquaintances who take him off in another direction.

[*rapsam2003]

((Morthos distributed posters after the Psion Incident, as detailed here: Flyers in the Bazaar.))

The Athar Namer, Morthos, is seen putting flyers in the Bazaar. He also hands them out to any who pass him by. Although he is genial about it, many of those who take the flyers are not necessarily so. The flyers contain the following message:

Cagers, Primes, and Planars! Let it be known that the Athar officially queried the Sign of One about the Psion Incident, the hour when many psions felt their powers constrict and even felt physical effects such as fainting or mental disturbances. The Signers refused to answer our wholly reasonable questions on the matter, professing ignorance and dismissing our concerns.
But rest assured: The Athar shall be your defenders in this. We shall, as always, seek the truth. If a malevolent god attacked the Cage, we shall fight for you. If a Power seeks to oppress the city, we shall defend you. If a dastardly plot is at hand to increase the power of servants of the gods, we shall uncover it for you.

Come to the Shattered Temple, if you wish to join our cause! We shall keep Sigil free from the oppression of the gods, together! Join us and fight for truth, by word and deed!

[*rapsam2003]

Morthos contacts the Harmonium, the Mercykillers, and the Sign of One to propose cooperation against the Raven Queen. A new goddess arising is unconscionable. Morthos shall do what he can to prevent it.

((See the letters in these threads: Mercykiller-Athar Cooperation, Harmonium-Athar Cooperation, & Sign of One-Athar Cooperation.))

[*rapsam2003]

The pieces were all coming together. He had found his mother's journal, in a cave within the Abyss. The book was half-falling apart and some pages were burnt, as if it had been partially burnt. But it was certainly hers.
Within the texts, he read of how his mother, a half-fiend sorcerer, was impregnated by a Balor. All the clues seem to point to the idea that she did so willingly, as a means to gain more power. The Balor ill-used her, but she used him right back. In exchange for knowledge and dark tools, she bore the child the would become...him. She lived in the Abyss during her time. Apparently, both his mother and the Balor reveled in the depravity and painful pleasure that they had together. It was a tumultuous relationship, one which ended when he was born.
Shortly after his birth, his mother took the child - him - and fled. Using her gile and magic, she somehow found a portal. The next few months were a journey that ended in Sigil itself. Upon arriving at the city, his mother contacted his aunt, a tiefling warlock of note on Golarion, a Prime world. The two women agreed to meet and exchange secrets. His aunt was much pleased to find out about him.
When two women met, they planned to return to Golarion and take residence in the Empire of Cheliax. Unfortunately, it seems that the Balor's minions had caught up with them. The journal ended shortly after an account describing how some of the Balor's feared minions were after them.


So, that was his true heritage. Morthos was a Marquis Cambion, the son of a Balor and a half-fiend. (In time, mayhap he would even claim holdings in the Abyss.) It explained the power in his blood and his affinity for the profane!

Smiling cruelly, Morthos put down the book and lit it on fire. His mother was weak, to fall to the Balor's cronies. And his bitch of an aunt left him as a child, decades ago. That said...now, he knew...!