Fallen Species Overview

Powers and Principalities

In their time, they lit the void with starlight, shaped worlds from the primal aether and carried the breath of God to man and beast. Whatever else they have become after the darkness of the Abyss, that fallen remain avatars of creation, living manifestations of Heaven’s Grand Design. Before they forswore their covenant with God, the fallen and their peers made up the boundary that separated the Creator from His creation, each Celestial House charged with interpreting a different facet of the design. In a sense, the angels were the lens through which the Creator’s vision was subtly distorted, injecting a momentum of dynamic change that gave the cosmos a life of its own. It was this process of interpretation and conceptualisation that was the source of the beings’ power.

The angels took Heaven’s Grand Design and defined its myriad potential, establishing each concept’s existence by defining its relationship to the universe. Once these relationships were described, they could be manipulated in invoking their identity or name. As the universe evolved, each House accumulated a vast store of these conceptual relationships. They were the threads that comprised the fabric of the universe, the fundamental components of physical reality. The act of manipulating these names of power was called an evocation, and a House’s store of evocations was referred to as its lore.

Performing an evocation, no matter how great or small, was a co-operative effort between angel and Creator. The Elohim provided the direction and the will to achieve the desired effect, but the power that fuelled the act flowed from God alone. This arrangement, or covenant, between the Elohim and their Creator provided the necessary balance between angelic freedom and heavenly authority that made the creation of a universe apart from God possible.

What’s in a name?

While words of power can (and often are) spoken by the fallen in the course of using their powers, an evocation is more than just uttering the right set of syllables. The individual performing an evocation must fully understand and visualise the concepts that a word or name connotes in order to draw on its power. The sounds of these words have no power in and of themselves - their strength comes from the ideas and relationships they evoke. Thus, an evocation scrawled on a piece of paper won’t give an ordinary human (or even another demon) the power to level mountains. The same can be said of parroting words of power that a demon utters when she calls upon her lore. The words are nothing more than nonsensical sounds in the mouths of the uninitiated.

Broken Oaths

When the fallen contemplated rebellion against Heaven, they knew that they would commit a terrible act, one that (by definition) would estrange them from God. None foresaw the full fury of the Creator’s divine wrath, however. God declared the covenant with the fallen to be forever broken and denied them the power of His blessing, thus reducing the rebels to mere shadows of their former selves.

God’s course rendered the fallen impotent, unable to work their will upon the cosmos. Their struggle might have ended then and there were it not for the outpouring of faith from the newly awakened human race. While they were born in innocence, ignorant of their intricate workings of the cosmos, the souls of mankind resonated with the breath of God, and people gladly shared this divine spark with their would-be saviours. The fallen shone like angry stars once more, and the fates of man and demon became forever entwined.

Faded Glory

The faith of mankind sustained the fallen throughout a thousand years of war, but the widespread belief that suffused humanity in ancient times is all but forgotten in the modern World of Darkness. The fire has faded to a few glowing embers, leaving newly freed demons to fight for what little heat remains. Where the fallen once roamed the earth as radiant spirits, they must now anchor themselves in human flesh, at best a difficult and desperate situation. Twenty-first-century mortals are so spiritually shallow that they make poor vessels for channelling infernal energies. Instead of overwhelming a host’s identity or destroying it outright, a possessing demon’s knowledge and identity is largely suppressed in favour of the memories and feelings resident in the mortal. The degree to which the fallen can store Celestial energy is therefore very limited. By the same token, however, the madness, hatred and pain inspired by a demon’s long imprisonment can be equally diminished, providing an opportunity to make the most of newfound freedom.

Torment

Within the scope of her accumulated lore, a demon can bend reality to her will, but achieving a desired effect requires intense focus and clarity of thought. Uncontrolled emotions, especially negative ones, exert a potent influence on a demon’s evocations, with potentially horrific results.

Demons may intentionally inflict the malicious aspect of their evocations if they wish, but not without a price. Each time a demon chooses the high-Torment effect of an evocation, she gains a temporary point of Torment.

Infernal Might

Despite the limitations of demons’ mortal hosts, the fallen are fearsome to behold, with a broad spectrum of powers and capabilities at their disposal. These powers can be divided into three distinct categories: innate powers, which all demons by virtue of their Celestial nature and that do not require a Faith roll to use; their apocalyptic (or revelatory) form; and their lore.
Innate Powers

All demon characters begin with a common set of powers that reflect their nature and one-time role as agents of Creation. These are fundamental qualities that are always considered to be active as long as the character has at least one Faith point available in his Faith pool. Innate powers include immunity to possession, immunity to mind control and resistance to illusion, among others.

The Apocalyptic Form

During the Age of Wrath, the Fallen could alter their physical form at will. When they battled the Host of Heaven, they could be titans of living iron or horrors wreathed in raging fire. Among humans, they often assumed the forms of men and women, luminous and terrible to behold, or wore the guise of animals that best suited their needs. The modern World of Darkness does not possess the atmosphere of Faith to allow such effortless transformation from spirit to flesh, but the Fallen can use their stores of Faith alter their host bodies temporarily and gain superhuman capabilities. This apocalyptic or revelatory form is a reflection of a demon’s true nature, and its capacities vary depending on the character’s primary Lore. When a character takes on her Apocalyptic form, mortal witnesses suffer the effects of Revelation, with reactions ranging from terror to rapturous wonder.

A Fallen’s primary Lore dictates which Apocalyptic Form she can manifest. When a Fallen manifests her Apocalyptic Form, she gains access to a number of special capabilities ranging from trait increases to physical capabilities such as wings and claws. Each Apocalyptic Form provides eight special powers, but only four are available to characters with a Torment rating of 6 or less. The remaining four manifest when the Fallen loses part of herself to her demonic nature.

In times of peril, a demon can tap into her dark nature and temporarily manifest a high-Torment power. The capability persists for the duration of a single scene, though this means exposing themselves to their darker side and can have a detrimental effect on the Fallen if used too often. Finally, the Fallen doesn’t have to manifest all of her special abilities when invoking her Apocalyptic Form (A set of eagle’s wings might be inconvenient in a crowded elevator, for example). If she wants to manifest different or additional abilities later she can.

One’s Apocalyptic Form persists for the remainder of the scene or it can be “turned off” at any point before then if they wish.

Lore

A Celestial House’s lore is nothing less than the collected secrets of the universe, evocations that encompass the foundations of reality and govern the forces that keep it in motion. Prior to the Fall, each House had its own specific sets of lores that reflected its duties within the angelic hierarchy. These evocations were considered the heart of each House, and they were guarded jealously as a matter of pride. Later, during the Age of Wrath, pride gave way to pragmatism, and many among the fallen exchanged bits of their lore with one another to gain whatever advantage they could against their more hidebound foes.

Demons are assumed to have mastered the lore of their parent House, but much of it lies buried deep in the subconscious of their hosts and must be recovered laboriously. As a host body becomes more and more conditioned to a demon’s control and is capable of channelling increasing amounts of Celestial energy, one of the fallen is able to regain more of its former power.</li>
Innate Powers

All Fallen possess the following innate powers, regardless of their House. These capabilities are unaffected by Torment, and they are always active as long as the character has Faith.

Immunity To Mind-Control

Demons are immune to any form of mind-control and to supernaturally induced fear.

Immunity To Possession

For obvious reasons, the Fallen cannot be possessed, but if an attempt at possession occurs while the character is devoid of Faith, it is possible to force the demon from its mortal host. If the Fallen is forced out of its host body it must find another anchor immediately or be drawn back into the Abyss.

Resistance To Illusion

Demons are especially adept at discerning the real from the illusory, and they may attempt to penetrate illusions or supernatural forms of concealment regardless of the source.

Resistance To Lethal Damage

When in their apocalyptic forms, demons soak lethal damage (from knives, bullets, etc).

Healing Physical Damage

The power of faith transcends the weakness of the flesh. The supernatural vigour of a demon allows him to ignore many of his host’s vulnerabilities. All Fallen have the ability to rebuild their damaged bodies or to cleanse their systems of pain, disease and fatigue, simply by filling their mortal shell with the breath of life.

One Faith point can to heal all bashing damage, while lethal damage is healed at the rate of one health level per point spent. Separate Faith points must be used to recover from bashing and lethal damage. Aggravated damage cannot be healed in this fashion.

Invocations

The power of a demon’s name is such that invoking it, even in conversation, is enough to draw that spirit’s attention, no matter how far away he may be. What’s more, the subject can ascertain who is speaking about him, where that being is and even what is said.

Demons take notice whenever their Celestial or True Names are spoken. The feeling manifests differently for each. Some experience a chill that races across their skin or down their spine, while others feel an invisible pull that tugs at their mind. If a character concentrates, she can even attempt to determine who is using her name and why.

The amount of detail gained depends on the number of successes rolled.

One success: The character receives a mental picture of the person who invokes her name.

Two successes: The character receives a mental picture of the speaker and his immediate surroundings, including the individual(s) he addresses.

Three or more successes: The character can hear what the speaker is saying for the duration of a single turn. If she wishes, the character may continue to eavesdrop on the conversation, though she hears only the voice of the individual who invokes her name.

There is no distance limitation on this ability, not even between the physical and spirit realms.

The capacity to establish a connection between individuals by invoking names of power also allows demons to communicate with one another and their thralls no matter how far apart they are. To communicate with another demon, the character needs either the recipient’s Celestial or True Name. Once this connection has been made, the recipient can reply if they wish though the recipient doesn’t have to know the speaker’s name to reply. Once the link has been established, it can be used by both parties.

This ability is not limited to one-on-one communication. Fallen can direct her message to multiple recipients in different locations, if they wish.

In the case of thralls, communication is automatic. The bond that already exists between mortal and demon provides the needed link, allowing a demon to contact her thralls with minimal effort. Additionally, Fallen may address multiple thralls at once, if they wish. Unless a thrall is specifically gifted with the ability to perform an invocation, though, she cannot initiate contact with the demon. In most cases, thralls speak only when spoken to.

Though there is no known way for an outside party to “tap into” this form of supernatural communication, nearby demons can detect its use as they would any other use of supernatural power. Likewise, since the participants must physically say what they want to convey, even as a whisper, it’s possible for sharp ears to overhear at least a part of what is said.

Supernatural Awareness

The fallen are inherently attuned to the fabric of reality, and they are sensitive to energies and influences beyond the awareness of mortals. Characters can get a “feel” of the supernatural qualities of a given area. A hospital room might emanate a sense of pain and loss, imprinted by the emotions of the patients and doctors who’ve struggled and died within its walls. An otherwise unassuming basement might reek of the foul rituals performed there days before. Additionally, an alert demon can sense the use of supernatural energies within her general vicinity. The fabric of reality distorts momentarily when powers are used, and the Fallen can feel the ripples caused by this brief disturbance. Highly perceptive demons can draw extensive information from these ripples, gaining a sense of where the supernatural event took place.

Demons can sense supernatural energies at work within an area equal to their Faith score in miles (so a fallen with a Faith of 5 can sense energies within five miles). If a character is successful they can detect the momentary distortions caused by these energies. Additional successes provide further detail.

One success: The demon knows that something has occurred (or is occurring) in the vicinity and a general idea of how powerful the effect was or is.

Two successes: The demon gains a rough idea as to the direction from which the distortion emanates.

Three successes: The demon knows without a doubt the direction from which the distortion emanates, and he has a rough idea of the distance.

Four or more successes: The demon knows precisely how far away the disturbance is, and in what direction. If she knows the area well, she can work out exactly where the event took place or now occurs.

While demons can gain a sense of where an event occurs, it’s impossible to tell from a distance exactly what kind of power or evocation is used. If they want more details they must investigate in person or send their agents to learn what they can.

While a demon’s supernatural awareness usually functions only when the character actively searches for signs of distortion, the handler can, at her discretion, make it a reflexive action in the event of an exceptionally large flare of power in the vicinity.</li>
Faith

Faith is the energy of the cosmos, the breath of the Creator and the lifeblood of the damned. Demons use Faith to enhance themselves, or to alter reality using the tools given to them by their former Lord.

The irony is that demons cannot generate Faith themselves. Faith is about belief, not knowledge, and demons know the truth about the Creator and His grand experiment. For a demon, simply believing in God is as effective as regular people believing in lawn furniture.

Unable to feel the Faith they require, demons must turn to humans for their belief. By opening a mortal’s eyes to the wonders and horrors of the cosmos, a demon can draw out the precious breath of Faith from within that person and use it for their own ends. This isn’t an easy task, since most inhabitants of the World of Darkness live a life in which faith and piety are irrelevant fossils. Gaining Faith from a human requires hard work and dedication, but the rewards justify the effort.

There are two ways in which a demon can collect Faith from a mortal. Faith can be reaped from a human by forcing him to acknowledge the existence of the demon deep within his soul. A willing mortal can also offer Faith in return for promises of wealth, influence or power.
Reaping Faith

In the World of Darkness, God is considered almost as much a folk legend as Santa Claus. People may pay lip service to a religion, but it’s a hollow, meaningless habit for most. Going to church has as much emotional meaning for most people as picking up their dry cleaning. But it’s possible to show a human the truth about the cosmos and the Creator, to reawaken his desiccated soul and let the breath of God flow from him. All it takes is an act of transcendent holiness - or mind-blasting depravity.

If a demon can show a human the truth about the world, can show him her Celestial nature, she may be able to harvest some slight power from the mortal’s brief exhalation of Faith. But how do you convince an unbelieving human that you are a fallen angel? Revealing your infernal anima isn’t enough, because that doesn’t impart meaning to the observer. They have to believe that the demon truly is a messenger of God or a horror straight from Hell, which requires the demon to act.

Once a demon has decided to target a particular mortal (which could be a spur-of-the-moment decision or part of a slow and intricate plan), she needs to convince him that she truly is a being apart. For low-Torment demons, this might mean an act of kindness of heroism - such as saving a family from a serial killer by appearing as a luminous angelic being. For high-Torment demons, it might be a vicious act of torture - such as appearing as a monstrous creature and slowly flaying a victim with terrible claws. What matters is that the mortal truly believes that he is interacting with an angel or a demon. If the person does respond, the demon has a chance to reap some of his newly found Faith.

The player decides just how the demon will attempt to reap the mortal’s Faith - a conversation about love, an amputation without aesthetic or anything else the player thinks might be appropriate.

In most cases, reaping garners just a single point - reaping is too crude a method, and people‘s belief is too weak, to gain any real power. Demons who rely on reaping for Faith often spend time researching their targets, because if they can tailor the reaping attempt to the mortal‘s psyche, they have a good chance of better results.

It’s possible to reap Faith from the same mortal more than once, but each new attempt requires a new display of divine or blasphemous power, a separate act of love or hate (and possibly a new Ability used in the reaping process).

It’s difficult to gain much Faith through reaping - mortals are slow to believe, and few have the strength of personality to really commit to their belief. A far more reliable source of Faith is to collect it from someone who offers it freely.

Offered Faith

When a mortal comes to believe completely in the true nature of a demon and feels an ongoing respect for (or terror of) that demon, then he may become a continuing source of Faith. This is a far more reliable source of Faith than reaping, and demons who want to further their goals need to establish relationships (whether positive or negative) with humans who can offer them Faith.

While the systems and mechanics of offered Faith are simple, it is not a simple thing to groom someone as a source. Entering into a bargain is a momentous and dangerous act, and demons must work hard to find mortals who have the potential for being worth the trouble and effort. This is something that can only be done through roleplaying, not through rules. Responsibility for choosing a worthy mortal and offering him a pact rests with the character (and her player).

To become a source of Faith, a mortal must enter into a voluntary agreement with a demon. The demon gives the mortal whatever he desires; in return, the mortal offers her his Faith. Exactly what the mortal gains will vary from person to person, of course. It cannot be something mundane, because that lacks the meaning required. The demon must share her power with him in some way, which often means gifting him with one of her evocations or abilities.

When a thrall is empowered through a demonic pact, the exact abilities and gift imparted to the mortal depends upon the strength of her Faith and belief in the demon. The mortal’s Faith rating is manipulated by the demon and shaped into a gift. Full details on this process can be found in the section on Empowering Thralls.

When shaping the Faith of an appropriate thrall the demon can divert some (but not all) of the thrall’s Faith toward himself. Only a small amount of Faith can be diverted this way - but the demon receives this gift of Faith daily.

As shown in Empowering Thralls, thralls have a Faith potential of 1-5. The demon can claim no more than half of this Faith (round up) for himself, while the remaining Faith points may be spent on empowering the thrall.

Offered Faith is harvested from the source once per day. This occurs at dawn - the breaking of a new morning, the time when the Creator firs looked down upon His World. Physical distances are meaningless to Faith, so in the event that the demon and mortal are in different time zones, the Faith still comes to the demon. It is generated when dawn comes to the mortal, however (which could make all the difference in an early-morning crisis).

Taking Too Much

Another advantage of offered Faith over reaped Faith is that the relationship can be abused by the demon, who can draw more and more Faith from their source in a time of crisis. This is not something to enter into lightly, for it causes great mental and physical distress to the source - it can drive the mortal mad or even kill him.

In order for a demon to ravage a source of Faith for more power, she need merely reach out with her will. The mortal doesn’t have to be nearby - the demon can draw upon their Faith from the other side of the planet. The source need not be willing either. He need not even be conscious. The demon is the instigator here, strip-mining the mortal’s soul and lifeforce for power, and the source is helpless to resist. The mortal can try to run away or fight the demon off, but the demon can still draw upon his Faith even while the mortal is hitting her with a baseball bat. The demon can draw upon multiple thralls for Faith simultaneously, allowing her to spread the risks of failure among several followers.

The ravaged thrall loses a point of Willpower per point of Faith ravaged. This los takes the form of racking pain, hallucinations, waves of terror and other mental trauma. If the sources loses all his available points of Willpower in this fashion, he loses his grip on his sanity and gains a mental instability or derangement or some kind. This madness is permanent, unless treated with psychiatric help.

If the demon draws more faith from a thrall than the thrall has Willpower, it inflicts a level of lethal damage (this damage cannot be soaked). This trauma takes the form of internal injuries, nosebleeds, stigmata or even scarring and burns (if many levels are lost). If he takes enough damage, the thrall will die.

If the source survives this ravaging, he might still never be the same. The demon has violated his soul, left it bleeding. His mind may be shattered, and his body may be wracked with pain from internal injuries. As a result, demon’s Torment rating increases as a result of her heinous misuse of her follower.</li>
Dealing with Mortals

Many demons expected to return to a world where they could easily control and rule over humans. They didn’t plan for a world where faith was all but dead, where six billion people teemed over a haggard planet and where they would have to work in secret to achieve their goals. The demons expected humans to be weak and easily manipulated - and they are - but they are also the key to achieving the plans and schemes of the Celestials. For demons to reach their goals, they need humans - as sources of Faith, as tools, as agents. As for the fallen, they have remembered something even more terrible - the urge to protect and even love humanity as they once did long ago.

Empowering Thralls

Demons need servants, and servants need tools in order to do their masters’ bidding. It’s often very useful to gift a thrall with a portion of your own spiritual power, so that they may better serve you. It’s also an excellent bargaining chip - easy to win someone’s loyalty when you can promise her eternal beauty or immense power. The biggest limitation on blessing a thrall comes not from the demon, but from the mortal herself. The demon reshapes the mortal’s faith and belief into a new configuration, a shape that draws power from the cosmos. The demon can bestow only a weak blessing if the mortal’s faith is weak, but if her belief is strong, the demon can fill her with awesome power.

Within certain boundaries, demons can empower their thralls with their own abilities, gifting them with supernatural powers. The system for doing so is fairly simple, but it’s not something to enter into lightly. Characters should never rush into empowering their followers or offering pacts to all and sundry. Choosing when to do so is an important moment in the plot, and it should be treated as such.

Demons can only impart abilities that they themselves possess - to grant the gift of invisibility, the demon must be able to become invisible himself. The demon can give four kinds of gifts - Attributes, innate abilities, the enhancements of his apocalyptic form and evocations.
Attribute: The demon can increase the thrall’s Attribute ratings, making her stronger or smarter. A thrall’s Attributes cannot rise above 5, however. Mundane abilities only go so far.

Enhancement: The demon can impart one of the eight enhancements of his apocalyptic form to a thrall, giving her the ability to grow fangs, soak lethal damage and more. Low-Torment demons can impart one of their high-Torment special abilities if desired at the cost of a temporary Torment point.

Evocations: The demon can even imbue a thrall with a weaker version of one of his evocations. The demon must decide on a specific evocation to bestow upon his servant.

Other Abilities: Demons enjoy many special abilities, such as their immunity to possession. The demon can impart one of these advantages to a thrall. Similarly, the demon can bestow a gift of a more general nature, such as the ability to see or walk again.

Once the demon has decided on what abilities to bestow upon the thrall, the two enter into a pact. The demon agrees to imbue the thrall with power, while the mortal agrees to serve in whatever way the two agree upon. The mortal might qualify as a source of offered Faith, but there are many other ways in which a mortal can help her master.

With the pact finalised, the deal is sealed with the demon’s gift. Imparting a gift to a mortal requires nothing more than a moment’s concentration. Many demons, however, like to add ritual and ceremony to the procedure in order to impress their new thralls. After concentrating, the demon mentally reshapes the thrall’s soul, using the mortal’s Faith as a tool. The stronger the thrall’s Faith is, the greater the changes the demon can make to her essence, and the more powerful the gifts the demon can bestow upon her.

No rolls are needed to reshape the mortal’s soul. The mortal’s Faith rating is used as a “pool” of points for buying effects and gifts that benefit the thrall, according to the following guidelines:

A point of Faith can be used to repair chronic injuries or impairments - allowing a paralysed character to walk or giving sight to a blind thrall

A point of Faith can be converted into 10 freebie points. These points can be used to buy or improve traits such as Attributes, Abilities or Willpower. They cannot be used for improving Backgrounds

One point of Faith can be used to impart one of the demon’s inherent powers, such as immunity to mind-control. The thrall permanently benefits from this power, rolling Willpower to activate its effects

One or more points of Faith can be used to give the mortal a limited evocation from the demon’s lore. This gift costs one to five Faith points, depending on the level of the evocation in question (i.e., a three-dot evocation would cost the mortal three of her Faith points.) To perform the evocation, the thrall must make a Willpower roll

One point of Faith bestows one of the enhancements of the demon’s apocalyptic form on the thrall. To benefit from the enhancement, the thrall must make a Willpower roll. Success allows the thrall to use the enhancement for a scene. The demon can bestow more than one enhancement, but he must spend a point of Faith on each up to half of the thrall‘s Faith potential can be used to make the mortal a source of offered Faith

It’s possible to give new gifts to a thrall you’ve already empowered, but it’s very difficult to do so. In order to further alter a thrall, the mortal’s Faith potential must increase - which only occurs if his belief and dedication to the demon becomes significantly stronger. (The Admin is the sole judge as to whether a thrall’s Faith potential increases). If a thrall’s belief grows, the demon can spend the extra point of Faith on new improvements - but doing so requires a new Faustian bargain between demon and thrall.

Faith Potential

Mortals don’t have a Faith rating. Instead, they have a Faith potential, a measure of how much Faith a demon can use to reconfigure their souls.

Most humans have a Faith potential of 2. Someone such as a devout priest with strong religious beliefs (no matter how twisted) would have a potential of 3. A Faith potential of 4 is the province of the fanatically religious, such as a fundamentalist preacher or Buddhist monk. Only a handful of people possess the determination, belief and devotion necessary for a potential of 5 - this is the hallmark of the pope, Mother Teresa or the Dalai Lama. Mortals with a potential of 1 are spiritually weak, with no religious beliefs and little ability to believe in the demon’s power. Such mortals make poor thralls, but may have other abilities that compensate. People with zero potential exist, but they are rare. Such spiritually dead, deeply sceptical mortals cannot enter into a pact with a demon.

Invoking Celestial Powers

To reveal one’s true nature to another is risky for anyone, but far more so for a demon revealing his Celestial self to mortals. For demons, Faith is like air - they need it to survive. Yet modern mortals are cynical and bereft of faith, and exposure to high levels of disbelief makes life very difficult for the fallen. The presence of unbelievers can even disrupt the use of Faith.

It’s often more difficult (and expensive) for a demon to invoke her powers around sceptical mortals. Whether a mortal is sceptical enough to disrupt the use of Faith is up to the individual handlers to decide. As a rule of thumb, the “average” mortal doesn’t believe in the supernatural, but her disbelief isn’t forceful enough to affect the demon. More strong-willed people, or those who have a major problem with the notion of the supernatural (such as a pragmatic scientist) can cause the demon problems.

One observer might cause a problem, but a group almost certainly will. Mortals are pack animals, and they draw courage from the presence of their fellows. When a group of mortals witness a demon’s use of Faith, their resistance is stronger; they back each other up on an unconscious level to reject the outsider. Even if the mortals would not interfere with the demon on their own, they will interfere as a group. Only among true believers and worshippers will demons be able to evoke their spiritual powers without interference.

The presence of unbelievers makes life increasingly difficult for demons, which is a good reason for them to work in secret or surround themselves with thralls and worshippers.

Revelation

Each time a demon uses her Faith, mortal observers have a chance (however small) of sensing the demon’s true nature. A small expenditure of Faith is likely to go unnoticed by all but the most perceptive of mortals. A great expenditure of Faith, or repeated small uses of Faith over a short period of time, make it more likely someone will notice. Demons can also allow mortals to perceive their true nature without Faith, whenever they wish. Finally, if a character invokes her apocalyptic form, mortal witnesses automatically suffer the effects of Revelation.

The mortal’s reaction depends on two factors: the character’s Torment and the mortal’s Willpower. Fallen with a low Torment (less than 5) are glorious and awesome, shadows of the divine beings they once were. Fallen with high Torment (greater than 5) are living nightmares who are terrible to behold. Those in between may be either or both, depending on the mortal’s preconceptions. Mortals with low Willpower scores are likely to be overwhelmed by the demon’s true nature, while those with greater Willpower can overcome the initial shock and deal with the Revelation (although it still comes as a shock, even to the most jaded and confident of mortals).

When a mortal has a Revelation, use this table to determine their reaction.

One effect a Revelation does not have is to reap Faith from those who witness it. While the witnesses are filled with a momentary awareness of the character’s nature, it’s an unfocused and impersonal awareness. Reaping Faith requires the demon to form a relationship with a mortal, even if only for a short time - not just to flash his horns and forked tongue. While revealing one’s revelatory form may certainly aid in reaping Faith, it’s never enough in and of itself to gather power for a demon.

History of the Fallen

The memories I can trust are those from when I first became aware of Creation. The sun and moon already existed, so did the seasons and the winds that bring them. Mighty mountains rose high above the lands, and vast, wooded plains stretched to the sea, waves rising and falling, the endless ebb and flow giving shape to the land. This was the glory of the First Lands. Although I understood the many facets these existed on — atomic, potential — I saw them for what they were. The rise and fall of the sun set in motion the cycle for the wild things, giving warmth and bounty in the summer, cold and harshness in the winter.

While Fifth House swayed the seas and the Third House crafted mountains, we ruled. The First Lands and its wild animals was our domain, and this encompassed all the works yours and the other Houses created.

The First Days

To see the First Days was to catch a glimpse of Heaven. Even now, broken and forsaken as these Last Days are, you can still see its glory. In the hidden places of the Earth echoes remain. Mountains rose into the sky so high they touched the very stars. Rivers ran clear blue, rushing with power and purpose. Where they were not covered by forests, the lands rolled with hills, adorned with flowers of every hue imaginable. This is the Eden that humans forget. They remember a pastoral image, but the land was wild in those days, raw with untamed potential. While beautiful and breathtaking, it was savage and unforgiving.

Mighty beasts walked the land as well while Creation was young and still learning its limitations. Many forms came and vanished forever, not because Creation was imperfect, but because of its unbridled potential. Through the Sixth House, a natural order was established. The hunters slew the old and weak, allowing the herds to grow strong. Together with the Seventh House, we worked at achieving balance — an infinite and thankless task.

This is the paradise I remember, and while I ran with the hunters I saw His face, our Father, in all His glory.

Adam and Eve

It is by the shores of a lake that I first became aware of them, Adam and Eve, the Allfather and Allmother. They were unlike any of the other beasts in the garden, for they stood at once as individual and as manifestations of the infinite. I spied on them from afar, fascinated by their form and shape. To look at them was to look at potential given form. Unlike the animals I governed, the Allfather and Allmother had the potential for awareness. They could gaze at the stars and moon and see that they were separate and distinct. What's more, they conversed. They didn't exist in silence, but expressed their thoughts in words, even if imperfect and base.

I followed them for a while, enraptured. Eve, delicate in her movements, walked and touched all she saw. Adam was strong and full of purpose, his form lithe and uniquely proportioned. They were creatures of wonder, innocent of the world we'd made and the great gifts we'd given them. All they knew was the Creator Himself. He came to them every night, and they worshiped Him. It was as if this was their sole purpose. Yet instead of reassuring them, of showing them why they were unique, He accepted their worship in silence.

Why deny them the glory that was theirs, true inheritors of Eden? So I heard the others start to whisper. Adam and Eve lived in ignorance, oblivious to their nascent potential. Why would He craft such beings only to shackle them? Their pain became our pain, for we loved them as much as we loved Him. Many of my House felt that Adam and Eve should not be placed outside the order of things — that in doing so, Creation's balance was upset. Still, our mandate was to protect and shelter them, so this is what we did.

Eventually their awareness made them realize that they were alone — two surrounded by a multitude of multitudes. What we thought was marvellous and majestic they saw as unknowable and threatening. What they feared most was being alone, and what pained us was that we could not tell them that every moment the Host surrounded them. Every morning they would ask God to stay, but He left them alone each time and we were forbidden from reaching out to them.

The Coming Storm

"A storm comes," Ahrimal said to me. I had come upon him as the sun set over Eden, staring up at the first glimmers of twilight. I searched with the eyes of my flocks, sending them as high as I dared, but still I saw nothing.

"Are you sure?" I said. "I can see nothing," He looked at me, and I saw the storm in his eyes. Uncertainty and doubt rolled like clouds, and in them glimpses of what was to come.

The Great Debate was the first harbinger of the storm. Ahrimal summoned us to the halls of the moon and spoke of the terrible portents he had witnessed. Many called for action, and this is what Lucifer gave us.

The Endless Night

The following night, Lucifer and those who chose his path descended to Eden. We watched from afar as Lucifer opened humanity's eyes, and there I saw jealousy for the first time. Eve took Lucifer's offering, but Adam was wary, hesitant. He saw his place supplanted by the Lightbringer, but Eve reached out to her partner and together they accepted the bounty of our sacrifice.

Adam and Eve became many reflections that night, and soon their race spread across Eden. It was as if by opening their eyes, Adam and Eve splintered into a multitude of potential — each with a different path to follow. During this endless night, we walked hand-in-hand with the race of Adam and Eve. Magnificent cities rose from the gloom, and the race of Adam and Eve stood on the threshold of perfection.

For the only time we can remember, we loved and were loved in return. But this was not meant to last.

The Dawn of Judgement

Dawn broke the following morning, but the fiery wrath of Michael supplanted the sun. The chieftain of Heaven's forces had come to pass judgment on his wayward brethren.

Michael ordered us to return to Heaven so that we might face judgment, but Lucifer defied him. The Lightbringer rose to meet Michael high above Eden, and there the two locked in battle. Lucifer's boldness caught Michael unaware, and while evenly matched, it was clear that Heaven's chieftain could not cause his former lord harm. In a flash, the battle ended, and Lucifer stood victorious. Many urged the Morningstar to lead the charge to Heaven itself, but he refused.

"In Heaven," the Lightbringer said, "He, and the Host are all powerful. But here, in the lands we helped shape and that are manifestation of our will, we hold the advantage.

"We defied Heaven out of love for Adam and Eve, and for them we'll make our stand here and now."

What happened next was the beginning of our torment, the end of the First Days and the dawning of the Age of Wrath.

Unbound

In the Age of Wrath, it was our turn to craft our own paradise. Never before, had the lands seen such marvels, such decadence and tyranny as in those days.

As Michael and his Host retreated, a number of our legion and a fourth of Adam and Eve's race followed the loyalists. The first battle ended in our favour, but none of us knew at what price. Did Lucifer? Had he betrayed us all only to avoid judgment in Heaven? Many of us grew heady, thinking that victory was ours.

Judgement

As the first day waned, many sensed otherwise. Our scouts that followed the loyalists reported that Heaven's Host was preparing its defences, but many of our legion saw this as further proof that victory was ours. How wrong we were.

It started with a breeze, picking up strength and power until its howl was deafening. In its path it picked up sand and rock, pelting the land and stripping flesh from bone in mere seconds. High above, dark clouds — darker than possible and bristling with lighting — swirled and encompassed the horizon in shadow such that even the land seemed to strain under its weight.

From the gathering clouds, His baleful eye manifested, the infinite forced into the finite by the force of His anger. Whatever balance existed before was torn asunder, and He let His wrath be known. He who had been our Father, was now our foe. God's wrath was boundless. Nothing we'd created went untouched.

When the clouds dispersed, the First Lands were no more. Nothing was left of Eden, except the ruins of its gates, their location known only to a few of us. In the distance, barren, desolate deserts, swallowed once lush fields in sand. High above, the mountains broke open, filling the world with dark poisonous clouds, erupting from time to time with a cacophony of fire and molten rock. The seas, once calm, roared and hammered the land — their depths alien even to those rebels of the Fifth House. The earth itself opened, swallowing vast plains and leaving jagged claws of stone reaching up from the ground. Terrible storms of bitter driving rain and howling wind wracked the lands.

Denied Heaven, this was our world now.

The New Order

When the winds died down, Lucifer led us into our broken world. If any of our number doubted our rebellion, seeing Creation in ruins steeled our determination for the long battle ahead. Our host was battered, the taste of victory replaced by numbness and despair. As we stepped into the light of the second morning, we realized that this home was also our prison.

Yet still we had our duty to mankind, and we led them from the caves into the light of day. Their long, hollow faces spoke volumes of the devastation they now witnessed. They seemed mere reflections of Adam and Eve's glory.

The Crimson Legion

Yet it was Lucifer who saw potential, not ruin, in the desolate landscape.

"Do not despair," the Lightbringer cried. "This is only the beginning. We know His anger, but He does not know our resolve. We have faced His wrath and survived. Do not see the scarred lands before you and lose hope. Gone are many wonders, many of our works. What exists now is only a pale reflection, but we will craft new marvels. We will teach our charges, the sons and daughters of Adam and Eve, how to unlock their true potential — and this accomplishment shall be ours, not His. This will be our grand achievement. Once we crafted Creation for Him, now we will shape the land according to our wishes.

"The lands may be broken, forsaken, but not to us. We created them out of nothing — imagine what we can do now! We will defy Him and the Host. We will fight for Adam and Eve and protect them and nurture them. We have forsaken Him, but our love belongs to Adam and Eve. Always remember."

Many agreed. We gathered about Lucifer, heralds to his vision. In time, we would be called the Crimson Legion in mortal tongue. We believed in Lucifer and his cause. We saw in the ruins about us a chance to right the Creator's wrongs, to teach Adam and Eve and to usher in a new paradise. We would grow to be the largest legion in those early days, Lucifer our leader, mentor and general. The ranks of the Crimson Legion were filled by Devils of the First House and Malefactors of the Third House. A small number of Defilers joined, as did fallen of the other Houses.

Chief among our numbers was Belial, first of Lucifer's lieutenants.

The Ebon Legion

Yet, not all were in perfect accord. Abaddon stepped forth, his countenance fierce — the very essence of the Devourers.

"I have seen enough. His punishment is beyond what it should have been. I swear that until the end of days I shall marshal my brothers against Him and the Host. I forsake peace, I refuse love. I know only hate, and we shall draw our strength from this fire. My Legion will face the Host at every turn, many of our numbers might cease to be, yet we will never give quarter. Here this battle starts. None can say where it will end, but our hearts are set."

"And to you, my brother," Lucifer answered, "goes command of a fifth of our numbers, the most strong. You shall be our vanguard."

"This is not all," Abaddon continued. "The humans blinded us. It is the Allfather and Allmother who deceived us, Lucifer. It is because of them that this war has come, and now our duty to fight it is on behalf of beings who know nothing.

"I too see potential before us in the landscape and these mortals. But they are to be tools, not relics to shelter. We defied Him for them, and in turn they will rebuild paradise for us."

"We will teach them our secrets: how to hunt these lands, how to master them. In turn, they will serve us in love and deed. We paid the ultimate sacrifice for them, so they are forever in our debt. They are instruments in our crusade against Heaven."

And so the Ebon Legion gathered. To its rank came many from the Sixth House, each eager to prove Heaven wrong. The lords of the air, the Scourges, followed as well. Of the other Houses, an equal number joined.

The Iron Legion

When the assembled host heard Abaddon's grim words, Dagon, the giant of stone and iron, crossed his arms and spoke with a voice like an avalanche. "I hear Abaddon, and I will not gainsay his outrage," the giant said. "But for my part, I say that humanity deserves our devotion, not scorn. How can we blame them for the choices we made in our hearts? If we see them as nothing more than tools, we dishonour our own sacrifices."

Dagon turned to Lucifer, and his hand burned with the heat of the earth as he raised it in salute to the Morningstar. "Let those who would honour the Lightbringer and remember their divine duty stand at my side! We will be the wall that Heaven's thunderbolts cannot pierce!"

Thus it was that Dagon became the third of Lucifer's great lieutenants, surrounded by the greater part of the Malefactors and many of our stalwart Devourers. Despite the horrors that came later, the legion never once faltered in its duty, nor did its numbers dishonour themselves with atrocities against mortal or angel. The Ebon Legion scorned them, but could never equal their feats of arms on the battlefield.

The Silver Legion

Then Lucifer called wise Asmodeus of the Fourth House, navigator of the stars.

"To you, a fifth of our numbers goes as well. Where the Ebon Legion marches to battle, you and your legion will unlock the mysteries and potential of the mortals and these lands. His secrets are yours to uncover. You will reveal His lies and show the Host the error of their ways. Wherever it is forbidden to tread, you shall walk. Whatever is prohibited to utter, you will speak. Whatever is taboo, you will revel in. There are no boundaries you will not cross in your search for the truth."

"This I shall do," echoed Asmodeus. "I see before me unlimited potential — not just potential prescribed according to His plan, but raw unimaginable potential. We will strive to find that which was before Him as He was before us. We will find the darkness that birthed the light of God for only out of darkness can light shine!"

"As to our charges, the blessed and cursed race of Adam and Eve, we will be teachers. Their forms hide potential that we will nurture and unlock. They will speak with the Celestial tongue and make a Heaven of this earth. Their seed we will nourish until it blooms and shakes the very foundation of Heaven with its towers and achievements. We will not rest until this is so."

Under Asmodeus's banner, the bulk of the Fiends gathered, as did many of the Defilers, eager to share existence with the sons and daughters of Adam and Eve.

The Alabaster Legion

Yet, not all the Houses had cast their lots. The quiet ones, the Slayers, chose instead to walk their own path.

Lucifer saw them and said, "You may walk your own path so long as you heed the call to battle. For now, Azrael, once-blessed Angel of the Shadow, take the Unaligned and make your own fortress. We will call for you in time. For now, your task is to renew the race of Adam and Eve. Gone is their immortality. Like the clay they were sculpted from, to earth they will return."

Azrael heard this and answered thus:

"Brother Lucifer, light-bearer and dread general. We stand in the shadows and await that day. We will hide where the Host refuses to look. We will gather strength and stand ready for the call. For now we leave."

With this, the pilgrim of shadows departed, taking with him a large portion of the fallen of the Seventh House and the other undecided.

And so the legions came to be. Afterward, the Morningstar declared that the old hierarchies would be swept aside in favour of new ranks and titles. The fallen were assigned authority based not on arbitrary judgments, but in accordance with their talents and strengths. Further, the system of ranks was fluid. A rebel who distinguished herself could receive promotion to higher authority, a concept that awed and amazed us all. Lucifer declared himself prince among the fallen, and his five lieutenants were called dukes. Beneath them were the legion's lieutenants, called barons, and then the overlords, lords and the fell knights, the champions of the legions' companies.

Edicts and Intercessions

Standing before his legions, Lucifer addressed us.

"Brothers and sisters, lament not for what we have lost. Rather, look at what we have gained. Soon we will depart this plain, leave its ashes and desolation and make our kingdoms from the ruins of Paradise. Each of you will preside over a host of our mortal charges. Protect and nurture them, for we sacrificed Heaven for their sake. Now we are truly fallen.

"Take pride in your new name. It takes courage and compassion to defy Heaven, while blind obedience requires nothing but fear. We have faced our fears and mastered them — now we are the masters of our destiny.

"Take your flocks to the corners of the Earth and raise great cities where none stood before. Take whom you will of the mortals who stand among us. The first two, however — blessed Adam and Eve — are not to be taken. They have chosen to follow their own path, and we will respect their wishes.

The Second Debate

Shortly after the rebellion, a second debate was had as to what to do with those mortals who had chosen to follow Michael. The Ebon Legion argued that any mortals under the Host's banner were lost. Many of the Slayers and those of the Iron Legion, suggested otherwise, however. The legions should work to convert those mortals and show them the true wonders they were entitled to as the children of Adam and Eve.

Once more it was Lucifer who settled the impasse.

"They have cast their lot with Him," Lucifer proclaimed. "They cast aside our gifts, our love. They have chosen to turn a blind eye to our sacrifice, and yet, look at them. They are pitiful, ignorant of the battle that wages around them on their behalf.

"For this reason we will not abandon them, nor shall we openly come to them. Instead, we will plant the seeds and hope they will take fruits and lead them to cast off their shackles. It is a choice they must make on their own. If they choose us, we will come as saviours. This is my decree."

An Age Of Wonder

The legions scattered far and wide, herding the sons and daughters of Adam and Eve to places both majestic and foreboding, where we would build our manses, our fortresses, our cathedrals. In the early days of the rebellion, we only manifested from time to time to our flocks, teaching them and guiding. Even though we had rebelled, many of our legion found it difficult to openly appear before mortals. The Creator's prohibition was so ingrained, that only the strongest willed among us dared to stand before the race of Adam and Eve in all our true glory.

We were worshiped during those days, and we drew our power from the faith offered to us by mankind. We led our flocks on long pilgrimages that were both voyages of discovery and conquest. It was a time of experimentation as we learned the limits of our power. We hewed cities into mountainsides and built monuments to ourselves

Bastions and Cathedrals

This was a time when the foundations of our future metropolis were built. Our war with Heaven was in its infancy, both camps regrouping from the initial onslaught. Across the land, the legions built fortresses and mighty cathedrals. In time, these bastions would grow to become fortress-cities, immense and sublime in their glory. Among their number was Dudaei, the desolate desert home of the Ebon Legion; Taba'et' watchtower of the Silver Legion; and Kasdeja, the underground fortress of the Alabaster Legion. These were not the only bastions of the fallen, but they are the only few I remember. In those days, I roamed the lands as a messenger and scout of the Iron Legion.

I recall gazing from the mountain peaks and seeing countless citadels tower above the land, rising from mountain plains, vast deserts and jungle valleys. Only Lucifer himself knows how many of these bastions were made, many hidden from mortal and fallen eyes by the cunning arts of the Malefactors. Some were small communities, with a small flock and a single guardian; others were opulent courts rivalling the mightiest empires that would ever cover the land. Yet, however mighty these cities were, the city-manse of Gehinnom — the Black Cathedral of Lucifer himself — rose above all others.

Gehinnom

Nestled into the Valley of Tears, the cathedral-city of the Fallen Prince was a testament to both our defiance and hubris. Although it would not reach its apex until the Time of Atrocities, the Black Cathedral was a marvel to behold even in its infancy. Built on the site where Lucifer was moved to tears by mankind's courage, Gehinnom was to be the model for all other cities.

I see echoes of Gehinnom in this City of Angels. I have seen the Black Cathedral in aspects of all the cities I've visited. Even my host's recollection of the jails and cells of Argentina hint at that solemn city — to its fire-lit corners and basements where we would forge artifacts of legend in later times. What I remember of Gehinnom is nothing more than a vague impression. Today, cities are disparate entities, hegemonies created out of the confluence of geography and economics. But Gehinnom was different. It was whole — at once a city and a cathedral, for that's the only way to describe the city in human tongue. It is said that Gehinnom existed before our Fall — that it was built during the First Night to house Adam and Eve and then taken by Lucifer as his own. To see Gehinnom, one would understand the possibility of this myth. It was a symbol of perfection, an earthly manifestation of the Morningstar.

Approaching Gehinnom, one would only see the walls and the spires reaching up from the ground and touching the clouds, clawing at Heaven and making the sky weep with rain. To us, it existed in layers, each more perfect that the rest, nine in total. The two lowest of these existed in shadow, where one would find the path to the forges of the Iron Legion. The mortal flocks of Gehinnom existed in the third to sixth layers, building monuments to us and great citadels to house their own numbers. The seventh and eighth layers belonged to us. Here we made our homes; some modest, others ostentatious. The Palace of Shadows dominated the last circle, the citadel and fortress of the Morningstar.

Beyond the Black Cathedral, the outskirts were dotted with mortal encampments and villages where the lowest among our numbers would minister to the pilgrims and faithful who would come to pay homage to us. The paths these pilgrims took soon became the Four Roads that snaked their way to every settlement, cathedral and bastion of the fallen.

The High Cities

Gehinnom and the three citadels were not the only cities upon the land. Far away, the Heavenly Host was busy building its own palaces — in truth nothing more than prisons. The scouts of the Silver Legion reported that a part of the Host, like us, had decided to remain behind to protect their mortal charges. But unlike us, who pushed our flocks to greater and greater heights, the loyal mortals seemed to exist in prison-states, each a microcosm of Eden whereby the mortals existed as Adam and Eve did — ignorant and shackled to the Creator's will.

From afar we spied five of the High Cities: Sagun, Shamayim, Machonon, Zebul and Araboth.

Sagun, also known as the Third City, was a border city, located a few leagues past the Barrier Plains and the Mountains of Sorrow — those desolate ash wastes ringed by fiery volcanoes that marked the limits of our territories. Simple in construction, Sagun was little more than a labyrinth of stone, built to confound invaders and inhabitants alike. It was ruled by Anahel, an angel of the Fourth House.

Shamayim, city of reverence, was the solemn protectorate of Gabriel — archangel of mercy, revelation and death. Second to Michael, Gabriel was also one of the few emissaries between our legions and the Host. Many whispered that Lucifer and Gabriel met regularly and that the Second Archangel chose to remain on Earth and bow to Michael so that he could protect his mortal changes and try to convince Lucifer to relent.

The stronghold of Machonon and its fiery parapets was the home of Michael, Archangel of Heaven and Lord of the Host. An army of fiery angels circled above the city at all hours of the day and night, beacons of divine wrath that ensured the city could never be taken unawares. Of all the High Cities, Machonon never fell.

The city of memory, Zebul, existed for one reason alone — to catalogue and record the rebellion so that our legions would not escape their sins. Surrounded by mist, the prison city of Zebul archived all our deeds. Its spies and agents — angels of the Second, Fourth and Seventh Houses — are said to each have a great ledger upon which all our transgressions were writ. If those ledgers still exist, they are perhaps the only complete record of the Age of Wrath.

The final city, Araboth, was a monument to solitude and lament. Presided over by Caiel, angel of solitudes and tears, it is said his only task was to weep for Creation, to lament the fall of Adam and Eve and to remember our broken glory. The gates of Araboth were never barred or closed. Instead, they were left open to welcome any of our legions who wished to renounce the rebellion and accept God's judgment. Abaddon razed that city seven times during the Age of Wrath, but it was rebuilt each time exactly as it was before. It is known that less than a hundred of our number crossed its threshold in one thousand years of war. Their fate is unknown, and their names are never spoken.

The Silent War

Although the early days of the rebellion were spent building and entrenching ourselves, the war didn't stop. Far from mortal eyes, our legions fought the Host. The battles of the Silent War, as this period was known, were skirmishes and battles of wits and will. We didn't assemble on battlefields and charge at each other. Instead, we gathered in the secret corners of the Earth; our battlefields the various facets of Creation. The higher in station the combatants were, the more abstracted the battles became. While lords and fell knights fought with words and songs, dukes and archdukes battled with the ephemeral.

Challenges would only be issued when one of our legion crossed paths with an angel of the Host while exploring the world or tending to its flocks. These engagements were nothing more than choreographed dances and debates, Creation fighting itself the only way it knew how — by creating and changing. In a pantomime, we fallen would try to out-create angels and vice-versa resulting in spectacles that held mortal flocks in awe. Many human myths that endure today are dim echoes of those ancient battles.

These clashes could be felt across the land, but only as the roar of thunder or the heaving of the earth. They would take form as storms, as the coming and going of the seasons and the rising and fall of the sun. We would strive to unlock the mysteries of Creation for our flocks, while the Host did its best to obfuscate truths and bury them with superstition and doubt. In this way, Creation re-created itself endless times, but what the Host did not foresee was the impact the collective belief of the mortals had on this cycle. With every mystery the Host placed before them, the greater the mortals' appetite for truth grew.

The Silent War raged for hundreds of mortal years while our flocks grew and prospered. We built huge cities and battled the Host across Creation using only words, concepts and potential as our weapons, but this courtly warfare was not fated to last.

Again it was Ahrimal who sensed the change. He came to me in the darkest of nights and whispered to me.

"I sense another storm, Malakh." I followed him this time as he traveled far and wide, visiting all the citadels and cathedrals in search of answers. Finally, in desperation he made the pilgrimage to Genhinnom and the Palace of Shadows.

The great seer requested an audience with the Morningstar himself. The Dread Prince summoned Ahrimal into his chamber and bid the prophet to speak.

"What has become of Adam and Eve?" Ahrimal asked.

No one, neither rebel nor angel had seen or heard from the first mortals for many an age. Having been cast from Eden, Adam and Eve faded from sight. Their descendants recalled them in only the most primal of myths. There is no mistaking the pain that Lucifer's edict caused many of our number, for it was for Adam and Eve that we had risked damnation. To be separated from them seemed a hollow victory.

After a long silence, Lucifer told us this story.

Of Adam and Eve

"A fourth of the race of Adam and Eve returned to the Heavenly Host on the morning of our judgment, but not the Allmother and Allfather. Their immortality was stripped away with a single word, and they were forced to labour in the fields for their sustenance. When the time came to scatter the legions with their mortal flocks, Adam and Eve came to me and begged to take their leave.

"Adam spoke first, saying, 'You have shown us much. We have been cast from Eden and consigned to dust, but we have become masters of ourselves in turn. God called us sinners when we disobeyed Him. We now see the world as it truly is — vast, barren and desolate — but here we will make our own mark.'

"Eve spoke next. 'You have taught us much. We took your fruit and our eyes were opened to the true scope of Creation — enough so that we understand our status as exiles. To follow you further would be folly. You have opened our eyes, and for this we are grateful, but with open eyes it is we who must make our own path. If we are to inherit this earth, it shall be due in part to our toil, our sacrifice and our faith.'

"With this, Adam Allfather and Allmother Eve left my company and ventured far into the wastes to seek their own destiny. In time, they will either learn to master Creation or toil until God redeems them."

The Blood of Eden

With that, our audience with Lucifer was at an end. But instead of settling the matter, Ahrimal was that much more determined to uncover the fate of the first mortals.

"I sense something," Ahrimal said while we travelled, "and at the core of my worries are Adam and Eve. They've a part to play, of this I am certain. Lucifer has commanded us to keep away from the first mortals, but I must know why."

And so we searched as the seasons passed from summer into fall into winter into spring and back to summer. When we encountered other fallen, we would make inquiries trying to discern where Adam and Eve had ventured. The answer was always the same, but we refused to accept defeat.

After many years of searching, we finally found their hiding place. They had settled far to the east, upon a small hill dotted with orchards and surrounded by fields. Beneath the shade of cypress trees, they built a dwelling to shelter them from wind and rain. We spied them from afar. The years seemed to hang heavy on Adam. Long days of toil had left their mark on his face, telling a story of pain, isolation and perseverance, yet his eyes were full of pride at the simple things he and Eve had made. Eve the Allmother, ever radiant, worked at her husband's side, tending hearth and field with equal vigour. And they were not alone.

The Third Mortal

Not far from the dwelling, bent over in toil, we first saw him who would be called the Third Mortal — Caine. His face was handsome, his skin darkened by the baking sun and his limbs strong, but his visage was troubled. At his feet rested baskets overflowing with all the fruits of his labour, and at once we understood his toil. His hands had tilled the soil in all directions, bringing life to a barren landscape. With backbreaking pain, he had cleared stones and weeds from fields and planted seeds in their place. In the blossoms and fruits they gave, both Ahrimal and myself saw echoes of Eden, and we longed to tell the Third Mortal of the wonders he had created. Yet a pall of sorrow hung over the Third Mortal, so total, so forbidding, that neither Ahrimal nor I dared to approach him.

At that moment, from over a hill, we heard the approach of a large flock of sheep. Not a wild herd, but guided by the one who was called Abel. Upon a small rise he stood, the brother of Caine, his skin fair, his golden hair tossed by the wind. The Third Mortal looked to him, and his sorrow deepened.

"He longs to show his brother his love, but this love is not free. It is fettered by a dark passion," Ahrimal said as Caine walked to Abel. "He feels he must do something that he dreads."

It was Abel who first spoke.

"Brother, you have called me down from the hills, and here I am. What is it that bothers you? Was it what the Creator said about your offering? Do not question His love, brother. It begets nothing but woe. This is what we have been taught. You know we will always cherish your gifts, for you make the land green and vibrant. Come my brother, let us return."

But Caine said nothing for a while. In the fading light of the afternoon, he stood, his slender but powerful body rising over Abel, casting a long, deep shadow. He placed a hand on Abel's shoulder, a tender gesture between brothers if not for the darkness swimming in his eyes.

"Brother," the Third Mortal spoke, "God asked for me to bring the best of my fields, that which brings me joy and happiness. I misunderstood and brought the seeds of the soil, its fruits and flowers. But this is not what He wanted. It wasn't worthy, because it comes from the dust He exiled our Father and Mother to. As you brought the firstlings of your flock, tender and innocent, I brought nothing but dirt. 1 know now what I must do. For you are the best of my fields, for long I have been your keeper, and I will always be. You will be my gift to Him, and I will earn His love with your blood."

What happened next unleashed a storm that still rages to this day. Caine's act repeated every night between brothers, between lovers, between strangers until the end of days.

Abel saw the darkness grow in the Third Mortal's eyes. His flocked sensed his fear, and their cries drowned out Abel's pleas as the Third Mortal lifted a stone and brought it down on his brother's head. Abel's blood flowed, covering the Third Mortal, and it did not stop until it became a stain that grew to encompass all of Creation. Exhausted, Caine collapsed upon his brother's broken form.

Ahrimal understood the significance of what he saw. I felt only betrayal.

Blood was spilled in anger and hate. Not for the sake of the hunt nor for the need to survive. That night, as the clouds rolled in, a shroud of darkness fell across the world that lingers to the present day. Even God's wrathful condemnation of our rebellion, His destruction of Eden, pales next to what Caine unleashed that afternoon.

The Promise of Shadow

But the worst was yet to come. Ahrimal begged me to leave, and in horror I could not help but obey. The last I saw of Caine, the First Murderer, he was standing in the field, covered in his brother's blood, waiting for the Almighty to come and receive his offering.

It is said that Caine was exiled, cast from the light and sentenced to exist in darkness, bound to repeat his sin every night until the end of time. Far to the East, in a blasted land called Nod, he is said to have founded his own city, probably inspired by the great cathedral-cities that dotted the land. He called this city Enoch, but of his fate little else is known. I wonder if he lingers upon the earth still, and what I will say if our paths cross again.

Darkness Unleashed

When we returned to our lands, we could see plumes of smoke rising into the leaden sky. As we crossed jagged peaks of the Mountains of Sorrow we saw fires burning in every direction, converging on Sagun, border-city of the Host. In the valley below, the bulk of the Ebon Legion marched in serried ranks. In their wake, a trail of destruction stretched to the horizon, littered with the bodies of man and beast. Caine's act had unleashed the potential of atrocity across Creation and ignited the storm Ahrimal had so feared.

From our vantage, we watched as the Ebon Legion drew closer to Sagun. As they encountered mortals loyal to Heaven, they bound them in chains and herded them into huge slave caravans or slew them outright. I saw mortals dashed upon rocks, torn limb-from-limb or cut down with blades of fire and light. The cries of the dying echoed across the land.

The Siege of Sagun

The day passed, and below us, in the valley of Sagun, the first true battle of our rebellion raged.

The Devils of the Ebon Legion directed ranks of Devourers into battle, matching the angels that poured out from Sagun and to receive the first charge. High above, Fiends soared upward to meet angels in clashes of thunder and fire. On the flanks, Scourges willed their poison winds across the battlefront, obscuring the legion's movement and choking the life of loyalist refugees streaming toward the city. In the rear, Malefactors cracked the earth open and rained fire on Sagun and its surroundings, thick sulphurous clouds billowing from open fissures in the land. Defilers sang songs of bloodlust, driving the legion into a frenzy and luring both mortals and angels to their doom. Finally, amidst the chaos, Slayers searched for the dead and dying, either saving or condemning souls to shadow.

The sheer savagery of the assault stunned the Host. Many of its highest generals, Michael, Gabriel, Uriel and Raphael, were absent, sent by God to punish Caine for his sin. But this was not all. The death of Abel had washed over the Host much like it had among the fallen. Yet, where it seemed to have liberated us, it had paralyzed the angels. They were unable to comprehend the evil that had been unleashed before them. This proved to be their undoing.

As angels and archangels poured out of Sagun, they hesitated before the ranks of the assembled legion. Unsure of what action to take, Jabniel, subordinate of Anahel, stepped forward to address the Ebon ranks.

"You come before a protectorate of the Host. His Will rules here. The devastation you bring will be levied against you in turn. I stand ready to challenge any of your number in Anahel's absence."

Lirael, overlord of the fallen Sixth House, rose from our ranks to answer. He was bedecked in gore, his body that of fire and anger made manifest. Behind him trailed a mighty axe. I remembered Lirael as the Angel of Fury, he that drove the beasts into their killing frenzy. Lirael who was Jabniel's superior before the Fall. When he reached Jabniel, there was no discourse, no debate, he only raised his mighty axe and brought it down on Sagun's defender. As it cut through Jabniel's presence, the axe biting into the angel and scraping the ground, the sound it made hissed at Jabniel's true name and in an instant he was no more. Jabniel became the first true casualty that unleashed the Time of Atrocities, his name no longer echoed by Creation.

Jabniel's passing unleashed a mighty frenzy among the legion, and they hurled themselves at the angels of Sagun. By the fall of night, Sagun lay in ruins, its halls ransacked by the Ebon Legion and its riches taken as trophies. Of Sagun's defenders, only a third escaped the onslaught, fleeing across the Vale of Reverence to the other High Cities. But to their dismay, the survivors found both Zebul and Machonon under siege. They desperately bolstered the failing ranks there, but not before the Great Library of Zebul, where the Book of Names was kept, was burnt to the ground. Of its countless lexicons and tomes, such as the Secret Winds and the Book of Abaddon, only fragments and ashes escaped the inferno. While few angels met destruction that day, many were cast back to Heaven, broken and spent.

The Breaking of the Legions

"Here he comes," Ahrimal said, pointing toward the horizon. Amidst the ruins and broken bodies came proud Lucifer, Prince of the Fallen, with the other legions marching in his wake. He gazed at the destruction that surrounded him, while the Ebon Legion cheered him in our defiance of Heaven. Reaching the gates of Sagun, he spoke.

"Is this what the sin of man unleashed?" A cheer rose in response, but a shadow fell over our dread general.

Abaddon, master of the Ebon Legion stood and replied, "Our defiance of Heaven has found a new battlefield. We no longer need to endure the Host's presence upon this realm. God has Heaven, is He not content to leave Earth to us? If need be, we will hunt down all His servants and cast them to nothingness."

"This is not why we disobeyed, Abaddon," Lucifer responded. "We did so out of love for those whom He created but ignored. This is not our realm; it never was and never will be. What surrounds us belongs to mankind."

"But it was that same race, Lightbringer, who brought this evil upon the land," Asmodeus countered. "You say Abaddon marched here to bring death and destruction, but it was the sin of Caine that caused this. Once his darkness washed over the land, Abel was not the only innocent to fall. It pains me to see this, Lucifer, because I relinquished my station in Heaven for mankind, but now it is clear that darkness resides in their soul. Perhaps they are not as perfect as we believed."

Azrael was next to speak. "The cries of Abel disturbed the land of shadows. By his death, something worse was given birth. It came like a storm — total and powerful — and nothing escaped it. Those of my legion, the lost and forlorn, fought to keep this presence from breaching the shadow and spilling across the earth. Perhaps this is what Ahrimal saw before the Fall, and this is proof we have set upon the wrong course. We arc doomed by the sins of mortals."

"We cannot take responsibility for the sins of the race of dust, as the children of Adam and Eve deserve to be called,"

Abaddon continued. "Our love and sacrifice has been repaid with deception. Had we seen them with unfettered eyes, free from the chains of love, perhaps we would have seen the darkness as well as the light. We were blinded, Lucifer, and you, second only to God, should have stopped us. Now we are cast to this barren earth, sentenced to exist in this half-state because of our love of mankind. I say never again."

Asmodeus followed. "The race of dust existed in ignorance by its own choice. All the clues were there; we labored night and day to educate them, but they chose not to see. Were they ignorant because of God or because they simply chose to remain ignorant?"

Lucifer, alone, looked at his legions and felt only sorrow. "So it comes to this. We are breaking; your hate, your anger getting the better of you. We should be guides and protectors, not tormentors and reapers of woe. Do not focus your anger on the race of Adam and Eve only because they have no power to defy you. Remember, it is Heaven we are fighting, while humanity sustains us with worship."

"Perhaps so, Lightbringer, but we cannot assume this will be the last stain they leave on our soul," Abaddon said. "You have led us here with promises of love and kingdoms to come. I agree, it is Heaven we are fighting, hut we all have different reasons for marching against the Host. You say we must build a kingdom here, and we will. But instead of one, we will build many, each a reflection of what we see as perfection. You will always be our general, but it is clear we all have our own wars to wage. When you call, we will come; when you ask us to march, we will. But we will not follow blindly anymore.

"Tell me, Lightbringer, did you ever foresee our glorious enterprise coming to this?" Asmodeus asked. "Perhaps we are meant to follow another path. It is your light that guides us, but Creation is as vast as it is unknowable and our many eyes must be cast in all directions. It is clear that the potential of the race of mortals is multifaceted, and to this end, we will push our flocks to unlock their true calling. We must be ready to accept whatever may come. We follow you, Lightbringer, by following our own paths."

Lucifer spoke last.

"Together we challenged Heaven in glorious defiance. Now we shatter, becoming many instead of one. Very well, take your legions and wage your wars. Perhaps you are correct. Perhaps Heaven cannot fight a war on many fronts. But remember this. We are accountable, our actions will echo until the end of days. Now go. We will meet again, brothers, and when we do you will either submit to me, or fall to ash."

That day, as the legions scattered and Lucifer returned to Gehinnom, the Time of Atrocities began.

The Time of Atrocities

Our legions were broken, but the Time of Atrocities saw us gain much ground — some might call it a golden age, which to this day they strive to recreate. Gone was the peace and tranquillity of earlier centuries, though. We were no longer exploring Creation, but crafting it to our whims. It was a time of decadence and darkness.

In this time, our love and hate for the children of Adam and Eve knew no bounds. They were cherished and tormented, adored and tortured. At once they were a source of joy and pain to our legions. Many centuries passed since that fateful day we defied Heaven, and we had been forever changed by the horrors of war. We were becoming something terrible, and we warped the very land about us in the process. Once we had created Paradise, now in earthly exile, it was a hell we were crafting. We stopped creating and gave in to destruction.

A Time of Hate

Across all fronts, the Ebon Legion marched and was victorious. This is how I witnessed the fall of Shamayim, the second of the High Cities to fall, and the battle of the Glade of Memory. Here, mighty Gabriel fought against the hordes of Lirael in skirmishes that left the land scarred and fallow for all of eternity. It is said that Gabriel, archangel of mercy, vengeance, death and revelation, refused God's order to abandon the fight. Instead, he chose to remain and protect a mortal woman from the depredations of Lirael, who had taken to feasting on the flesh of mortals. To the very end, Gabriel fought, keeping Lirael at bay until day broke on the last day of battle. The bodies of many mortals and the husks of many of our number lay broken all about Shamayim when dawn came, but there was no sight of Gabriel or his mortal love. No one knew if the Archangel of Mercy and Revelation had been punished for his disobedience or if he fell during the night. One thing is for certain, his name was never echoed in the Abyss, so if Gabriel was punished by the Almighty, he was sentenced to a hell all his own.

No matter where the Ebon Legion marched, it left a trail of destruction and misery in its wake. Huge carrion flocks followed, so large they would blot out the sun, and feasted on the dead and dying. The corpses left behind were touched by the Scourges and left to bloat with disease and plague. When ripe, they would burst, unleashing pestilence across the land of the Host.

Wherever Abaddon's legion went, long caravans of humans followed — containing both slaves and worshipers. For all the atrocities the legion committed, some mortals craved the power the legion offered and so followed, willingly sacrificing themselves in battle or worshipping the Ebon lords.

Citadel of Hate

Dudael, mighty fortress and citadel of the Ebon Legion became a bastion of hate and violence. Surrounded by fire and geysers that belched noxious clouds of gas into the surrounding lands, Dudael became the very image of hell that so many moral artists would envision in the millennia to come. Huge forges beneath the city churned out weapons and armor for the mortal ranks of the legions — crude swords of dark metal known as syir. When not campaigning, the legion gathered in arenas and coliseums and staged gladiatorial fights, pitting mortal against mortal and demon-spawned aberrations created for the sole purpose of providing bloody sport for the crowds.

The Malhim

Yet, there were defeats, especially as the Time of Atrocities dragged on. A new wave of angels descended from Heaven to reinforce the battered Host. Unlike the initial defenders, who shied from actual conflict and battle, the new wave of angelic warriors did not. It was as if their very mandate was to sentence as many of our number to oblivion as they could. They became known only as the malhim, the bane of our existence. Some say they were born from the fires of the siege of Sagun, others that the malhim were the souls of faithful mortals blessed by Uriel to avenge their deaths by our hands. Whatever their origins, their power was fearsome to behold. I pray to Lucifer that we never see their like again.

A Time of Transgression

Far from the front lines, the Silver Legion toiled in its fortresses and keeps, places of unspeakable knowledge and forbidden lore. There nothing was sacred as the fallen of that legion scoured the fabric of Creation for clues that would deliver the gates of Heaven into our hands.

Those angels' mortal flocks were grafted to crude machines for practical and not so practical reasons. Places like the Wall of Breath and the Towers of Flesh became legends, haunting even to us. There were no limits to the atrocities that legion was capable of. Many of the horrors inhabiting mortal myths are, in truth, early memories of the excess of Asmodeus and his followers.

Beautiful Belphegor, overlord of the Fifth House, Mistress of Inspiration, forced her mortal flock to mate according to rituals she devised in an attempt to achieve humanity's ultimate potential. The cries from her citadel, the Palace of Sighs, echoed long after its destruction at the end of the war.

Taba'et', bastion of the Silver Legion, became a maze of towers and chimneys, spewing viscous smoke into the skies. Human flocks languished under the experiments of the legion and its voracious appetite for earthly and unearthly delights.

The Long March

In Gehinnom, Lucifer and the Crimson and Iron Legions continued to care for the human flocks under their protection. Lucifer sent expeditions to reclaim flocks from the Silver and Ebon Legions and bring them back to Gehinnom from time to time, but from his throne, Lucifer knew that the excesses of the shattered legions were weighing heavily on Creation. Countless mortals were dead, and many more existed in torment. This was not why the Lightbringer had defied Heaven. Yet, Lucifer knew that forcing the legions to follow him would be no different from the unquestioning obedience demanded by Heaven. For many a long year, the prince wrestled with this dilemma.

Finally, he decided to act. The war had gone on too long. The Host had been pushed back to Machonon, but the Lightbringer knew that city would never fall. Instead of allowing his legions to run rampant, he resolved to call them back and build their true kingdom once and for all.

What followed was the Long March, a crusade to bring the legions back under the rightful banner of Lucifer. Fallen clashed with fallen, but in the end, the Crimson Legion surrounded Dudael, Taba'et' and Kasdeja. The errant legions sallied forth to break the siege three times, but the warriors of Crimson and Iron hurled them back into their lairs each time. In the end, the renegade lieutenants bent their heads in fealty once more, though I wonder what schemes of revenge they harbored in their hearts.

From his throne, Lucifer spoke of a new age, an age when the fallen would be worshipped by mortals and the mortals in turn would grow to challenge Heaven itself as deities in their own right.

"We have been fighting the wrong war," he declared. "We will defeat the Almighty, not through war or atrocities, but through the very faith of the mortals. We will make each of them an image of Him, perfect, infinite and powerful. For too long we have mistaken the root of the war. The Creator does not condemn us out of fear, but out of dread for what we might teach mankind. Do they not empower us with their faith as God once did before the Fall? We will make gods of these mortals and they will challenge Him. In turn, the mortals will inherit the Earth and we will reclaim our thrones in Heaven. We have spent too long here. The time has come to return and make Heaven pay for its sins."

And so began the Time of Babel.

The Time of Babel

What followed was our greatest age. The victories of the Time of Atrocities had pushed the Host back, its forces scattered and in disarray. Under the guidance of Lucifer, our domains were fortified and even the dreaded malhim were stymied for a while. To appease the Silver and Ebon Legions, Lucifer allowed them to continue governing their cities, but they could no longer add to their flocks without first paying a tithe to Genhinnom. This is how the Crimson Legion spread its flocks across Creation. But that is not all it did.

It was Lucifer's mandate to elevate the race of Adam and Eve. Much time had passed since the First Night when Lucifer had opened the eyes of the Allmother and Allfather. Much had the descendants of Adam and Eve forgotten, much of their knowledge was composed of half-remembered truth and superstition, mixed with fear and superstition from the Time of Atrocities. Instead of witnessing the totality of Creation, the mortals were blind once more. Yet it was not God who was to blame this time, but us.

This pained our mighty prince. We had defied Heaven to bring light into the world, not more darkness and despair. We had failed our Lightbringer, and he had failed the children of Adam and Eve.

"Have I been following our Creator's path blindly?" Lucifer cried. "Is this rebellion nothing but a house of lies?

"No longer! We shall usher in a new age. Our rebellion shall not come to ruin. All the years of toil and despair, violence and murder shall not be in vain. We will elevate humanity until they touch the walls of Heaven itself. This shall be our Grand Experiment. If we fail, all is lost. If we succeed, victory will be ours at last."

The Grand Experiment

Lucifer selected 10 of his most trusted retainers and sent them across the land. Their task was to teach the sons and daughters of Adam and Eve the secrets, not just of Creation but of Heaven as well. It was the beginning of the end.

Across the lands, the Ten taught the mortal flocks, who then took this knowledge back to their tribes and built the Civilization of Ashes. So great was the knowledge the Ten brought with them that, in a few short, years, cities that rivalled the bastions of the fallen spread across the world. The mortals built cities upon the oceans and mountain aeries, sprawling desert metropolises and golden jungle temples. Cities like Enoch, if the mortal book is to be believed.

The Ten visited these cities from time to time to watch over their charges and teach them. In time, these secretive tutors were known simply as "the Watchers."

The Watchers

Decked in cloaks made of light and shadow, the ten watchers stood tall and frail, yet their eyes swam with knowledge and potential. They were welcomed into all the cities of man, and they watched as the mortals learned the most secret lore of Creation. In time, the Ten left a book with each mortal city so that their knowledge could be passed down from generation to generation. These books came to be called the Canon of the Eye, and they were lost amid the chaos at the end of the war. Their existence has been forgotten even in the oldest surviving myths, and this is as it should be. Such knowledge was foolishly given once; it must never happen again.

Still, the Ten watched and taught.

Giriel taught the race of dust the secrets of the earth, how to shape the land through the art of combining elements and minerals.

Sharaael imparted the knowledge of flesh and life so that mortals could recapture the immortality that God wrongly took away.

Of the secrets of the stars and the heavens above, Bephamael taught the race of mortals. The Book of Bephamael traced the patterns of the stars and how to predict the passage of time.

The secrets of wind and storm were written by the hand of Marael.

The secret of metal work and the forge was the providence of Gamael.

Ur-Shanbi taught mortals of fate and how to divine the future by looking at signs and portents. God kept Adam and Eve blind, but through Ur-Shanbi, humanity would be able to ascertain Heaven's plans.

Of the moon and her mistress, Samael taught mortals where to look for the Mother of the Moon, what secrets she possessed and how to protect themselves from her kin.

Agriel wrote of the many secrets of the bounty of the land, of fruits both good and bad, and how to manipulate them for nourishment or poison.

Of the sun, God's unrelenting eye, Shamshiel spoke to the race of Adam and Eve.

Finally, the greatest gift was given by Penemue to the race of Adam and Eve. Penemue taught the race of man the gift of writing language and the wisdom this entails. Through his gift, mortals gained the ability to define the world according to symbols and concepts and not by things that needed to be seen or touched. The secrets he taught allowed mortals to open their own eyes. Creation no longer needed to be seen and touched to be believed. Knowledge could now spread of its own accord. In a few generations, many tomes and books were written in the First Tongue, and humanity was close to finally unlocking its own divinity.

This is the gift that the Ten gave the race of Adam and Eve. Yet the fire that burns bright burns all too quickly.