About #
- Sided with: Church of Decay
- ROBLOX group link
The Church of Decay is known for its abominable pantheon of horrific beasts, but few know of the relics and artifacts they may leave behind for humanity. The House of the Damned is tasked with uncovering and returning these relics in exchange for eldritch powers and boons. Alongside searching for relics, they must also guard their vault with their lives, for if the Church’s enemies were to break in and claim the artifacts for themselves, the results could be disastrous… Those in pursuit of joining this House must show excellence in the bearing of responsibility, maturity, combat, and temperance. They are to be picked only if deemed worthy.
Applications #
Lore #
The Damned are known for their skill in combat as well as their ruthlessness to kill anyone who gets in their way. But, behind the blood soaked masks of the Damned are the Erudites, the mentors and guides to the lost souls seeking to regain their souls.
Normally the souls of the Damned are lost when they die. Their spark of life is only maintained by their lust for blood and regaining of their soul. Although not all the Damned lost all of their souls when faced with death. Some kept their souls, fragments of reason, and comprehension within the Damned. Before the Erudites were seen as those who were not bound by total loyalty to the Damned due to the threat they posed to the influence of the gods to the Damned.
Some tried to pose as normal members of the Damned unwilling to relinquish their chance to regain their entire soul, not contempt with their fragmented minds. Most of them were caught in the act and killed, but some succeeded in passing the trials over time. When the gods and higher-ups of the Damned learned of the infiltration, they killed many of the Damned in attempts to eradicate the ones not bound by total loyalty.
Unfortunately for the gods, the unfaithful learned from their past mistakes. Unable to exterminate the infiltrators, they accepted them and gave them a name. They were deemed the Erudites for their ability to adapt, learn, and teach others with remarkable speed.
The Erudites were tasked to guide the lost souls to the Damned as well as teaching them how to fit in with the Damned. They were chosen because of their tether to sanity allowing them to think rationally and teach them.
Gods #
Eldritch beings, or more commonly known as gods, are known for their immense power and strength. Perhaps too well. Even the gods cannot hope to contain their ever-accumulating vigor. That is where relics come to play. Common items or religious tools imbued with unearthly force produce potent relics. Such relics were bestowed upon followers as divine gifts. However, these proved too powerful for simple minds, corrupting them with sinful greed and anger. Those who knew or owned these relics tore each other to shreds, dividing the powerful and the weak. Amidst the chaos, a new god arose from the sundered ground. Reliquire, the Goddess of Relics. Her red hair flowed like a gentle river
Reliquire seized control of the relics, using her all-seeing eyes to find and retrieve them. However, this was only half the task. Where would she store them? How would she prevent them from being used again? Even if she could store them somewhere safe, who’s to say they won’t be taken once again, repeating the same tragedy? Then, from the sky, a deep, husky voice boomed: “Calm yourself, young Goddess. I believe I have the answers you seek.”
The Dead Chaos God Meirkien descended from the sky, his gruesome wings leaving shockwaves as they moved through the air, seemingly unfettered by any form of physical resistance. He touched down on the soil, trembling the ground with his size. Almost twice the size of Reliquire, his mere presence shook her to the depths of her heart. However, even in her moment of fear, she continued to protect the relics, shielding them behind her. Meirkien chuckled, “Relax, young one. I have no intentions of taking your… rocks, shall we say. I’m merely here to offer you a more secure location for them.”
Reliquire was cautious, fearing for the outcome that Meirkien would use the relics for harm as the previous gods have, but she had no other choice. There was no safe place for them. None that she could access, that is. And so she followed Meirkein to the Church of Decay, where she was brought to a cavern beneath the church, likely excavated by the members. Within lay a sizable door, seemingly operated by a series of gears and cogs. Beyond the door lay three pedestals, equipped with four sharpened pricks to hold relics securely in place.
“Now,” Meirkien spoke, a hint of disappointment in his voice, “as much as I’d like to have you store your toys in here, I’m only permitting you to three. Any more would attract unwanted attention.” His eyes held a look of disdain; he likely didn’t care for the power of the relics, but only wanted them to keep them away from his adversaries. “However, you’re free to distribute them among the land, as I’m sure no mortal mind will be capable of stealing them, much less reaching them alive.”
Reliquire pondered upon his suggestion. She had noticed a few locations she could hide on the way here, but his last statement confused her. No mortal mind will be capable of stealing them, much less reaching them alive. What did he mean by that? Were his followers that powerful? What if she…
For the first time, Reliquire spoke to Meirkien and said “…Would it be possible for you to lend me your troops to protect my relics, as well as a spell to seal the vault?”
Meirkien stared at her, both confused by her sudden speech and her request. Chuckling to himself, he responded, “If you need troops, you’re free to take my Spawn once they have perished. I have no use for the dead. As far as protection goes…”
Turning around, Meirkien snapped his fingers and said… something. The language wasn’t familiar to Reliquire. After a moment, a headless, dark-skinned person walked around the corner. They had a mouth at the base of their neck, a long, slithery tongue poking out from their sharp teeth. Only their lower half was clothed with a torn, long skirt, revealing the X-shaped scar on their chest. Their arms were stripped of flesh below the shoulder; only bones remained with fragments of muscle and blood near the shoulder.
“This is Tutamelios. I believe they are more than capable of attending to your… needs.” Meirkien muttered, displeased that he has to spend more time in a filthy cave. “I’ll leave you two to introduce yourselves, I have some business to attend to.” He marched out of the cave and took off into the sky, once again leaving powerful soundwaves in his departure.
Tutamelios, turning his gaze away from where Meirkien was to Reliquire, set his shield down on a nearby pillar. “So, you’re the new relic deity or whatever, right? Heard you pop out of the ground from systems away,” they said desolately, “I’m Tutamelios, God of Protection, or to be would be the right idea. Dropped everything I was doing to come here. Felt more important, like a pull or something. Y’know what I mean?”
“No… I don’t. What use are you to me?” Reliquire replied, uncertain in Tutamelios’ power. He seemed too lax and amateur, like an overconfident swordsman.
Tutamelios, seemingly distraught by her statement, replied “O-oh, I see. Well, as the God of Protection, I can create a seal for the door behind you. Should keep mortals out.”
“Should?”
“A-ah, well you see,” Tutamelios stumbled, “it’s possible to break it with magic. But don’t worry, that would certainly take either a large amount of magic.” He paused, then added, “Or time.”
Reliquire squinted, eyeing Tutamelios from head to toe. Their confidence from before had vanished, replaced by bashful stammering and self-doubt. Maybe they weren’t the cocky god she pinned him as. “Fine then, what else can you do?”
“Uhmmm… Oh!” Tutamelios exclaimed before opening a gate to their left and reaching in. They fidgeted about, looking visibly unsure of where they were grabbing until they finally found it and pulled out a weapon. “I-I can make these! I call it ‘warspear’. Good at slashing and stabbing, that sort of stuff. I think it’d be pretty good for the guardians here, right?”
“How did you know we’d have guards here?” Reliquire inquired, narrowing her eyes.
“Oh! I, um, overheard! Not that I meant to eavesdrop, of course. I just happened to hear it, you know, as most people do.”
Reliquire took another moment to inspect Tutamelios. His weak will, overall obedience in helping, speech, and general mannerism seemed trustworthy indicated that he was not one to betray. “Alright then,” she spoke, reaching her hand out to Tutamelios with a soft smile, “I look forward to our partnership.” Smiling back, Tutamelios reached out and shook her hand.
From there on, Reliquire and Tutamelios formed the Damned: a group of lost, anguished souls enslaved to protect the vault in hopes of securing themselves a path to rebirth. Armed with the powerful warspear, their sole goal was to capture and secure ancient relics with the aid of Reliquire, for if they were to fall into enemy hands, the results would be disastrous. Within the Damned lie an elite group, boasting only the best and most disciplined combatants: the Vaultguard. Imbued with Tutamelios’ blessing, their hunger for blood was matched only by their dutiful loyalty.
Credit #
“Lore” written by
PyroDwagon
“Gods” written by
IrithyllWarden
Relique and Tutamelios art by
Frootonomy
