Cheliax, Empire of Devils

...of Dreams
Journal of Sir Ivan

I have never been a dreamer. At night my body rests, and my mind does the same. These dreams of hell that started with my initiation into the order drive me to restlessness. The eyes of that bearded devil peering back as he fell seemed to smile.

I am now fully in the service of hell. I’m privileged and obligated to serve as best as I can. Death holds no fear now. I will merely serve in a new army when I shrug the chains of mortality. These dreams are pleasant. The others are not. I see my father when I was a child. We practice in the courtyard. Military drill, basic weapon training, specifically.

I ask him why he carries a sword, and not the mace. Isn’t the ceremonial weapon of the Empire a mace? His reply, coy as it was; “does the sword not protect just as well?” Now I know. He was weak. And never strong enough for the mace. Here I am, a knight of the order of the nail. I still carry a mace.

By Asmodeus, these evenings are even less quiet than the days. Even as I write this, there are strange sounds. Some say I am lucky to be in this position, I say lucky is a relative term. I suppose I should investigate. I wonder what I am paying some of these idiots for?

Journal of Sir Ivan

I was asked a question today, concerning the honorific the unbreakable. I gave the official story about our empress’ cousin being among the civilian group we protected from the Bandits in that backwater town. How it was just me and a few knights of the order of the nail left when reinforcements got there. And how it made it back to higher ups, and because of the nature of my knighthood, I am referred to as such. The truth is that it was just a name until I fought that devil. He was testing me for Asmodeus, as surely as the order was. I know that now I have to live up to it.

I steel myself for the coming storm, as I know that the tests will only become more difficult from here onward. My companions are an odd lot. The gunslinger is possibly insane, and also quite dangerous. Her chaotic nature is hard to predict, and I will have to keep an eye on her. For now she has proven loyal and useful. The doctor… where do I begin? Something is not as it seems. His demeanor is cordial, and he has the proper gentleman’s fa├žade. He also has the “nerve”, for lack of better terms. I have it, too. If my father had it, perhaps he would not have been erased. But nevertheless, he is a skilled surgeon, and a fine battlefield medic. Even though he feign softness, the “nerve” shines through. I wonder if the others, particularly my new sheriff, have a clue?

On the subject of my new sheriff: she has the right poise, but I believe that she lacks the “nerve”. No matter, she is a skilled warrior and trapper. Her bear is a thing of beauty. A true natural war machine. Also her loyalty and dedication to duty are very apparent. Despite her gentle nature, I stand by my choice, as she gave me some useful animals to display to keep the people reminded of the law. The doctor was suspiciously hurt by the orc. I have seen many battle wounds. These are weirdly deep and in oddly ineffective places. Whether or not the new sheriff’s racism had anything to do with the hasty investigation matters not. I personally put the orcs up on crucifixion posts for all to see. Now the neighbors will be reminded that there is now law and order present. Sometimes I love my duties.

Thoughts of a gun slinger
A past that I don't talk about

As I watch these new people come in to Fort Wilderness, it reminds me of a time before all of this. A name best long forgotten that belonged to a life, that for my health best forgotten.

Oh but what joys I had at sea, I loved the hand to hand combat of invading other’s ships, and the skin to skin of Dominic the gruesome. We had so much fun plundering ships, the endless loot, the thrills of black market trading. The long nights of rough touches and soft moans.

It was a shame it had ended so quickly after a measly two years. But what can I say? When tempers spark so does the fuses of a bomb… in a armory of the haul of a ship.

I definitely left a mark, both on the Captin and Ship. I’d say it was a mistake, but that would be a lie. You see, I don’t like it when people double cross me. And that night was a night unlike the others. Dominic had decided I knew too much, so after a night together. He had decided to stab me in the back.. literally. I chosen to retaliate, with a gun to his knee.

As I made my escape I chose a well placed bomb as a deversion. And out I slide out, like a eel in a cage, I made my escape to the Inland and to a small inn. Where a i met a man by the name Ivan the unbrakeable.

And the rest is a history soon to be it’s own document.

Diary of Dr. Grigori Strand

I have never cried a day in my life. At least, I have no memory of it. I have never felt sadness, or guilt, or shame. Those emotions just don’t exist for me. When someone loses a loved one, or they receive the damning news of something inevitable, or a loved one committed a morbid atrocity, I seriously can’t relate to what they are feeling. I can only look upon them with wanderlust, and awe. What is it they are experiencing? How does that feel? I have been asked many times, “How can you stand there and not shed one tear? Don’t you care about anything?” Truth is… I do care about a lot of things. I just don’t feel what most people do. Maybe that is how I can do the things that I do. Who knows?

I often contemplate my own existence…. and worth.

After hearing some weird lightning storm happening outside, I went out to investigate, like most of the others. A tremendous cacophony overtook us all, and within a flash, a man, along with some debris, literally fell from the sky; landed in the middle of Ft. Wilderness. His name is Ash. I was a little bewildered at first, chalking this up as some eldritch mistake. But, he mentioned something that I have only read about in forbidden texts. He mentioned it with such a familiarity and lack of appreciation; I couldn’t remove my eyes from him. I studied his every move. I was completely captivated. I needed to know more.

His name is Ash… Housewares.

Through the commotion, a creature I have never seen before came flying toward him. It must have knew him because it was cursing his name. Without any hesitation on his part, and a lot on our part, he pulled out the most finely crafted firearm I have ever seen. It had to be a firearm because a very loud boom came from it, and caused the head of the murderous creature to explode. The intrigue only grows at this point for me. Ves had an orgasm, I think. She stood there… literally swooning and wetting herself. Now I know what she does with her own firearm when no one is looking.

Ash killed a demonic harpy… with his boomstick.

A breeze built up. A weird breeze. Surprisingly cool. It was midday; not exactly ideal conditions for a cool breeze, and no trees were swaying. The breeze built up and began to coalesce into… a shape… a fist. Without warning it slammed into Ash and sent him flying. He landed unconscious. Before I could react to him, the fist dispersed into a swirling vortex that seemed to originate from the ground, and pierce endlessly into the sky. The cacophony happened again, and these orcs… that appeared to be dead… were saying in unison to all of us, “We’ll swallow your soul. We’ll swallow your soul.” Okay, some weird demon shit is happening again.

Orc zombies, supernaturally possessed, attacked us.

After a long lasting melee, we put down the first set of orcs. I say first set, because more began popping out of the vortex. They ran throughout Ft. Wilderness and, in turn, Ivan had Patroklos get the militia working together to defend the compound. Ivan is a natural leader. He commands respect, and people listen, I could definitely use that. Need to remember that for if I ever need it. I had to stop getting directly involved in the battle, because what happened next almost made my heart stop.

Tentacles popped out of the ground.

I know those tentacles. They are in my visions. They are in my dreams. They are in my soul – if I actually have one. I have studied so long and so hard, to find some proof, some evidence, something… I can’t write anymore right now. I am starting to feel something… different. For the first time in my life, I have something I never had before… Confirmation.

I Did Her A Favor
Diary of Dr. Grigori Strand

I couldn’t fight the urge. I had to act. The whispers became screams. The drips became geysers. It’s a gentle nibble at first. Then it becomes a gnaw. Then it becomes a bite. By the Gods, no one has any idea what I go through. It is okay for a few days. But then a week goes by. I just… have to…

I made some tea.

I met with the woman that was chained up in that Orc Captain’s tent. I got her to talk about things she would rather not. A sense of pleasure came over me as she was forthright about her pain. Her nerves made her jittery. I reassured her and talked to her like a professional. She completely fell for it. Gullibility…

She drank the tea.

The thought of a strong willed woman like this, willingly having sex with that orc. She said she did it to protect her sister. What kind of a person puts the needs of someone else over their own. By the Gods, what was she thinking? She’s a liar. She did it because she liked it. She is just using her sister as a cover so no one will know. Too late…

The tea didn’t work.

The arrogance of this woman resisting the tea. Especially when it is so God damned expensive. Who does she think she is? This whore. If she won’t allow the tea to take her over, then I will do this the old fashioned way. This is always the way of things isn’t it? You try to be nice. You try to give someone a chance. Always have to go back to the basics. Typical…

She laid on the examination table.

I told her I was going to give her a mild anesthetic; so there wouldn’t be any pain at all. Told her I had to examine for pregnancy. She fell for that too. Maybe, just maybe, a hint of regret overwhelmed her. Good. She needs to know that what she did was wrong. How dare she use her sister as justification for her sins against humanity. It was just a little pin prick…

I injected her with my special toxin.

She said she started to feel weak. And that was the whole idea. I asked her to raise her arms. She couldn’t. That worked. This is all my fault. You try and do new things; unnecessary risk. I don’t know what I am going to do with myself. How can I take my art to the next level if things keep failing like this? Must be more careful…

She died just like all the others.

What in the Nine Hells am I doing? Why did I do this here? How can I dispose of this body when I am surrounded by people that are trained to kill? I have to think. Think damn it. The orcs. Yes, the orcs. I will lure one in here and blame the whole thing on him. They are such savages, so brutal, of course everyone will think one of them did it. I have to say, I am a genius. I know people more than they know themselves. Success…

The orc was arrested.

The newly appointed sheriff, Avery… what in the Nine Hells is Ivan thinking… she remembered she hated orcs. Every single one of them was punished. They are all on skewers, slowly dying. I am in the clear. Not only did I quiet the whispers, but I sparked the inner fire of the bear lover. I helped her remember she was a fighter. I helped her remember she had an enemy. I helped her remember she hated orcs. I did her a favor…

What the fuck is going on outside?

The Ripper Strikes Again
The Old Post


Poetry in Motion
Diary of Dr. Grigori Strand

I cleaned my hands and dried them off. I must do what others scoff.
I do not shy, I do not wink. I remove society’s weakest link.

My bloody tools are a beautiful sight. I am overcome with pride, despite my might.
You will know me tender and know me sweet. Quit taking money for a trick or treat.

Flesh is flesh, despite the source. I will instruct you all; delightful course.
Behold my work, so near and dear. I am the man, you will learn to fear.

You may think you’re safe and sound. I pinned your body to the ground.
Sanguine presence as you lie. Fuck you whore and fucking die.


The Coming Storm
Journal of Sir Ivan

There is a storm coming. I feel it. I feel silly writing such pointless things as my musings, but I suppose my brothers will need some record to erase in case of my failure. This coming Storm I am sensing: these are not your normal border skirmishes. This is something new. The first drops of blood on both sides, shall soon escalate into a downpour. I will be ready. I have to, for Chileax. I am doing the best I can to see my company is as ready.

Fire... Fire... Fire...
Thoughts of a Gunslinger

You want to know what makes my heart flutter? Seeing the golden red fires and the rumbling of explosion!

I can see the joys it gives my boss and I, so many see it as destruction. I see it as a beautiful purge and purity.

We have finished the desecration of the orc encampment. Now we are setting up for a stage of beauty. Sir Ivan says that we are to expect more Orcs, and I smile.

My newest lovely friend Pyra and I have enjoyed each others company as we work together to pour our love and knowledge into making enough bombs to supply our people.


I'm sorry, but we no longer support this web browser. Please upgrade your browser or install Chrome or Firefox to enjoy the full functionality of this site.