Azurephael The Most Evil Daemon Ever

The Players:

The Harbinger of all Evil, Bringer of Destruction, Herald of Woe, Messenger of Hate, Great Dark Lord, Chaotic God of Murder, Lies, Intrigue, Strife, Deception, Illusion, and Butterflies (but only the dark colored ones) - An evil god henceforth referred to as Cyric.

Coomer Shorwell - A talented writer who sold his soul to Cyric to gain fame and universal renown. Precisely two minutes and twenty one seconds after signing the dark pact with the dark lord he was trampled to death by unusually large goats who'd escaped their shepherd and were running in the streets. His scattered works on the road, all of which he'd had on him at the time, were picked up by a prominent publisher who later claimed they were given to him by Shorwell just before his untimely death. The works were published and reached a level of unequalled fame. Shorwell became a household name. During his first few centuries in damnation Shorwell acted as the chronicler of Azurephael; Cyric's most evil daemon ever, before getting bored and relegating the duties to a lesser experienced tortured soul as Cyric had never really paid any attention to Shorwell or the most evil daemon ever. The following is an excerpt from Shorwell's accounts of Azurephael.

Brian - A somewhat intelligent, but mostly unremarkable, human man. He is also Azurephael; the most evil daemon ever.
From the accounts of Azurephael; the Most Evil Daemon Ever
compiled by: Coomer Shorwell

Contrary to popular belief, not all unsavory and evil deeds are perpetrated on dark and stormy nights. Quite often it's an average partly cloudy, or partly sunny day. It is only out of pure coincidence that the night upon which the creation of Azurephael occurred the sun had gone down (rendering the atmosphere dark) and there were some rain clouds profusely crying onto the ground accompanied by streaks of lightning (in a manner which some might construe as a storm). I felt this relevant to convey as I wouldn't want any potential reader to think I was simply using tired archetypes to add drama to what has proven to be a rather dull tale, as far as tales of evil gods and daemons go.

The events that were to occur on the (coincidentally) dark and stormy night which Cyric had dubbed "The Night the World Shall Know Pain" were centuries, and perhaps even a millennia, in the making. To be honest I don't actually know how long Cyric was really working on this whole "Azurephael" thing as he insists on only telling me that it was an amount of time "unfathomable to the minds of mortals." However as I am currently a dead soul and, quite honestly, feel much the same as I did when I was alive I'm doubting the whole "minds of mortals" thing. In fact, as far as I'm concerned he probably only got the idea on a whim and had patched it together a few decades before it was due at the most.

As The Harbinger of all Evil, Bringer of Destruction, Herald of Woe, Messenger of Hate, Great Dark Lord, Chaotic God of Murder, Lies, Intrigue, Strife, Deception, Illusion, and Butterflies (but only the dark colored ones), Cyric has commanded his loyal servants for time immemorial. The most dedicated of servants were rewarded with great power in life and great pleasures in the afterlife. At some point, Cyric foresaw the existence of a man who would be most worthy of the greatest reward Cyric could bestow. Cyric began to manipulate all of the evil forces over which he had some dominion. He was gathering them to turn this faithful devotee into a powerful demigod. This demigod was to be known as Azurephael; the most evil daemon ever.

And so it came to be that this most evil of men was born. He suffered greatly and earned dark powers by his own merits. He worshiped Cyric strongly and ascended to the highest rank among the order of Cyric's followers. It was on the previously mentioned dimly lit nocturnal tempest that all was to come to fruition. A dozen of Cyric's strongest followers gathered with the evil man in the lowest dungeons beneath the largest Temple of Cyric (which happened to be in a relatively populated town). Twenty virgins were sacrificed that night. It is another common misconception that all sacrificed virgins are young, fair skinned, and beautiful women. After struggling to find only two who fit such a description the twelve followers lowered their standards and brought eight women who were rather old, nine who were rather ugly, and one young man who had lost his genitalia in an unfortunate accident whom they figured was close enough. The blood of these virgins created a shallow pool in a stone recess in which the evil man bathed, awaiting his just reward.

As the evil man soaked in the bloody pool and the twelve followers chanted evil prayers the hour of transformation finally was reached. Cyric gathered all the evil power he had accumulated and sent it down into the evil man in the pool of virgin blood, in the lowest level of the largest temple of Cyric. At least that's what everyone thought had happened. Just as this surge of dark power had occurred there was a tremendous bolt of lightning which hit just outside the temple, the thunder from which was deafening. Everyone involved with the evil ceremony figured this was intentional. Other ramifications of this bolt of lightning were no less than twenty five curse words uttered by those close to the blast, the cardiac arrest and subsequent death of one elderly gentleman, and one young man named Brian lying unconscious at the very epicenter of the bolt.

Brian had been burned in a rather odd fashion by the bolt of lightning. Instead of the crispy black outer coating his skin should have become he actually now had intricate dark burns which closely resembled tattoos all over most of his body, neck, and head. Only his face was spared from these strange markings which were actually runic symbols from the ancient evil language which was Cyric's native tongue. When the evil man and his cohorts realized nothing had been gained by their dark ritual they were, understandably, angry and greatly regretted not raping the two attractive virgins and even a couple of the fairer older ones before sacrificing them.

Cyric gazed, dumbfounded at the whole mess. He briefely wondered if he could shape this "Brian" into being the Azurephael he'd planned for. Cyric peered deeply into Azurephael's now immortal soul. He delved into the darkest recesses of evil which resided in Azurephael. Cyric saw clearly every vile corner hidden within the demigod Azurephael and promptly decided it was hopeless. Cyric attempted to forget about the whole debacle in hopes that his fellow evil gods would also forget about it and never bring it up. Yet here I am, still relegated to chronicling the life of this misbegotten most evil daemon ever. Well, I guess I might as well get on with it, not like I have anything else to do.

Brian awoke in a muddy ditch outside some kind of religious temple not really knowing how he got there. Among the other things he didn't know were his name, when he was born, where he was, when he'd gotten full body tattoos, and why he had the strange urge to murder a small puppy hiding in a pile of garbage attempting to stay dry. Seeming to be the only thing he really wanted to do at the time Brian walked over to the puppy and summarily stomped on its' neck. Immediately wondering why he'd done such a thing and feeling remorseful he turned and ran away, to where he was running he also didn't know.

Brian spent the rest of the night in an alley where he tried to find cover from the storm and attempted to try and remember anything about who he was. When the sun began to rise Brian decided to go back to the temple where he awoke to try and find answers. As Brian approached the temple the very evil man who was supposed to be Azurephale was just exiting. The man stopped when he saw Brian and immediately recognized the daemon. "Great Azurephale, my master!" he exclaimed and quickly knelt before Brian. "Our mighty god Cyric has chosen you as more worthy than I, I bow before you who must have suffered immeasurably to attain your gift." Brian was not sure what this man was talking about, he also wasn't sure if he'd suffered much (though he suspected the large quantity of tattoos must not have been an overly pleasant experience to receive). "Did you call me Azurephale?" Questioned Brian. The evil man bowed even lower "I am sorry master, I should not have presumed to use your name. I will accept your punishment willingly." Brian looked at the man and was beginning to wonder if he was just crazy, his dark clothing did appear to be covered in some kind of sticky goo which didn't seem befitting of a sane man. Still, Brian wondered if this somewhat odd man might be able to give him some useful information.

"I don't remember anything that happened before last night, I woke up here at this temple and I'm not really sure how I got here. Might you happened to have see….anything?" Brian knew his question was not overly clear. "Whoever you were does not matter, you have been reborn as Azurephael, the most evil daemon ever. I exist to serve you master." Azurephael was rather confused about this whole thing but he suddenly realized something. "I'm hungry" he said. "Of course you are master, follow me."

The man arose and led Azurephael into the temple. Every person within the temple, which mostly seemed to be populated by a few clerics and no apparent common patrons, knelt and bowed before Azurephael as he passed. Azurephael was led down some steps and through some hallways into what was just a stone walled room with a dim fireplace and a large stone altar in the middle. The evil man knelt upon the stone and extruded a jagged dagger from his belt. "I gaddly sacrifice myself to sustain your dark soul my master. Feast upon me as I die bleeding on this slab of stone. It is my greatest honor to offer myself to you. I pray that you seat me high at the table of Cyric. My life for you master." Azurephale now realized what the man was about to do. "HOLY SHIT GUY! DON'T!" But it was too late. The man plunged the dagger from under his ribs into his heart and died almost instantly. Azurephael just stood, stunned at what had just occurred. The man's blood dripped profusely off the slab and onto the stone floor. Azurephael turned to run away, again, but quickly went over to the dead man. He removed and took the dagger, he searched the pockets and found a rather large quantity of gold and a few other items. Azurephael took it all and ran out of the temple, a little surprised to see everyone still on their knees with their heads down to the floor.

As Azurephael entered onto the street he quickly regained his composure. He was actually a bit surprised by how little the whole ordeal affected him emotionally. "Well" he said to himself quietly. "I'm an evil demigod named Azurephael…..or I'm completely insane and surrounded by other people who are also completely insane." Azurephael was really not sure which of those two choices was less ridiculous.

Over the next few years Azurephael became a bit of a nomad. He began to realize he was infused with some kind of power which allowed him to conjure various evil necromancies that seemed to be quite painful to those who received them. His powers scared him a bit for a while until he found a man who could read markings on his body. This man, a follower of Cyric, confirmed that Azurephael was, in fact, Azurephael, the most evil daemon ever. This man also helped Azurephael to begin to understand how to interpret the writing himself. Each tattoo was a spell which Azurephael could somehow find a way to harness.

Azurephael worked several odd jobs doing whatever he could get work doing. Azurephael had pretty much come to terms with being an evil demigod but he still wasn't entirely comfortable with how he would occasionally get the urge to do something really horrifically evil (like stomping puppies necks or raping young virgins). And he was really really really uncomfortable with how, in very rare cases, could not stop himself from committing those acts of evil. Azurephael didn't feel like he was an evil or bad person, but all of these strange urges definitely made him confused.

Azurepheale eventually ended up in a town called Bezantur in Thay. Bezantur seemed to be in a war with a place called Velprintalar in Aglarond and Azurephael was drafted into the Bezantur army. This seemed as good a place as any to be. When offered an array of weaponry Azurephael chose two hammers, thinking it most likely he wouldn't accidentally kill himself with something that wasn't sharp.

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