PERSONAL

Gender: None

Kit: Eldritch

Location: Everywhere

AFFILIATION

Alignment: Villain

Team: The Children of Sayang

VITAL STATS

Strength: supreme (rank 3)

Agility: weak (rank 0)

Mind: weak (rank 0)

Body: supreme (rank 3)

Spirit: (rank )

Charisma: (rank )

RECORD

Infamy Points: 0

Personal Wins: 5

Personal Losses: 3

Team Wins: 0

Team Losses: 0

Tourney Wins: 0

Tourney Losses: 0

STATUS

Status: Active

treacherous

“The tower lives. Constantly in a state of continuous evolution and de-evolution. It shifts with the blowing winds; it shifts with every chime of the bells. It shifts with the passing of time, and it shifts with every breath I take. To trespass is to willingly trespass upon the soil of Oblivion. To ascend the staircase within is to climb the steps of Chaos itself.” - Ravenna Cervantes

Now listen, my children and I’ll tell you a tale how old Raya Sayang, the Child of the Spire once lived in a self-imposed hell. It would be foolish to try to surmise the elements of her design, so instead I thee wed you to the nature of her confines. As all stories should begin, once upon a time…

As a Khazanian midsummer slowly gives way to autumn, the harvest moon gradually peeks into existence from behind foggy clouds. Upon a slippery rock and moss-infested Huastec ruin, a handful of travelers probe. “The entrance is near, I can feel it.” Marshell Percy insists as he scratches away smallish pebbles in frantic search. “I hope so, I’m getting too old for this sort of adventuring.” says a wearisome Richard Von Pelt. Percy the unspoken leader of the explorers waves his hand to silence the old-timer. Tired, but in acquiescent attendance, the Actor’s Guild traverse the treacherous ruins in search of a nightmare. From his pocket, Percy pulls forth a smallish parchment. “It is here!” He says excitingly. He points and reads aloud from the paper. A rock that protrudes from the surface of the sculptured ruins wiggles and loosens on its own. Without haste, he pulls it free.

A crumbling sound is heard beneath the surface amongst the congested sounds of jungle noise. Suddenly, Ray Talbain and his wife plunge into the temple as a previously undisclosed doorway becomes evident. Percy laughs in amusement as the two lovers slide into the darkness. “Come all; let’s not let those two have all the fun!” Without hesitation, he leaps head first into the moss-slickened, descending corridor. The others follow without delay. As they fall, the opening from which they came closes behind them. Like school children, the misfit despots giggle and snort until they collide with the Talbains at the inner surface of the temple. Percy muffles more laughter as he rises to his feet, pushing Ray Talbains back for leverage. Talbain doesn’t complain, but chuckles eccentrically. Negating a flashlight, Percy strides casually forward as if he’s known the temple his entire life. The Guild follows in a likewise nonchalant manner.

“Can you feel it?” Percy says. “She is here. We are here. This…this will be our new home. Can you not feel it?” The others look around queerly, not fully understanding his meaning. Percy glances back and notices the bewildered expressions. A small vein rises at his temple. Rubble and wreckage within the corridor begins to rise nearby. The perplexed look on the faces of the Guild drops immediately and is replaced with visages of comprehension. “…I thought so.” He says as he descends further into the darkness.

Hours seemingly pass as the Guild wanders aimlessly. “Are you most certain you know where you are going, Percy?” Marshell turns to face Oldcastle who spoke to him with a smirk. “Don’t you have the manuscript as a guide?” Oldcastle asks. Percy pulls the parchment from his pocket once more. He proceeds to pull a lighter out and sets the paper aflame, “What? This old thing?” Several eyes widen in astonishment. “He’s madder than a March hare! We’ll all die in here!” Quimby snaps. Percy simply turns his head and continues on, “Of course I’m mad dear, isn’t that the point?” She falls silent at the infallible reasoning and they all continue on.

As they walk, eventually they come upon an opening. As if it were made for them, a ceremonial chamber room reveals itself to them in all its glory. “Ah…” Percy begins, “Here we are, exactly what I didn’t expect to find.” He grins maliciously. “You see true believers; this archaic slab holds the future for us all. It will be here in the maw of this ruin that her presence will finally be revealed. For, she has come to me in a dream: a dream that I gladly share with you all!” Oldcastle, ever the wonderer asks the question first. “Why? Why here?” Percy shrugs…

“…Why not?”

Oldcastle does not reply, but merely looks outward into the foreboding gloom. “Why anywhere?” Percy returns with a serious hiss. “Don’t you see the stage is set and we are soon to reach the ne plus ultra?” It matters not where we start. Why not here? We shall not question what our patron saint of the arts begets unto us.”

Tired and worn, the Guild members have followed Percy and his capricious missions relentlessly. Alas in this moment of promised impetus, they see only bleak, dilapidated and dripping failure. Percy however senses their disquiet and decides it is time…

With outreached arms, he fully plunges deep into the psyches of the gathering. Telepathic energies flow forth as their minds connect as it has time and time again in the past. Likewise, the group plunge their arms outward as they take in the inner thoughts of Percy. Their eyes lull back into their heads and they jerk backwards as a powerful surge of unfathomable energy pierces their collective minds.

Within their consciousness, Percy’s voice echoes, “Consider: It takes forever to rake a beautiful pile of leaves. And the result is worth it, isn’t it? You’ve cleaned your yard and you stand proud. But then, looking at that proud accomplishment, a guttural emotion swells within you. You must destroy the pile of leaves at the height of its glory. You fight to submerge this desire because that is what order demands. Sayang says otherwise.

You see, she communes with the darkest recesses of your natural heart, the often overpowering urge to destroy and raze whatever you please. Can you feel her power here wanting to shatter the fulcrum of order and return the endless multiverse to its primal chaos? She isn’t interested in ruling the world…she wants to wreck it. She wants to take God’s creation and stomp on it in a childlike glee and then thrash around in the frothing nothingness that remains, bloated and Fulfilled. Do not resist her, my darlings. Let her in.”

Dr. Odierno's Workshop

     Creation: supreme (rank 3)

• Multi-Attack

…Now follow me as we see very well, the images that may just rival hell. See them well, if you can stand to look. As they delve into the Spire’s innermost nooks. Perhaps you feel fear, as they submit to its thrall; alas you should…for I fear for you all…

When the gathering opens their eyes, they are surrounded by darkness. Worse still, there are whispers in the dark. Whispers not of any language they have ever heard. Between the hushed voices that reach out from just beyond perception, images begin to appear. As they stand assaulted, their bodies move throughout the temple against their wills. Its walls twist and change into sickening shapes, likewise a torrent flood of imagery assaults their minds. They see a murky visage of Percy himself. He walks down a hallway where it seems animals are kept. As they drift downwards through the hallway, they briefly make out the creatures within: misshapen forms of beasts of unknown origin. Their bent and twisted shapes seemingly created by a maligned mind and not of natural design. Further down the hallway, they make out the likeness of something that resembles a laboratory. As the assembly glide throughout the chambers, the beast bark and moan in strange harmony. Then, the visual of Percy lifts his hand and with a casual gesture the cage doors burst loose freeing the unearthly beings within. He then exits as quickly as he came laughing in his familiar disturbing way.

A haze begins to rise and the scene changes. They see vaporous imagery of various lost wanderers within the hallways of the Spire. Ill-fatefully, they happen upon the beasts. In vivid definition, the Guild watch as the lost one’s lives, sanity and even souls are claimed by the horrid various monstrosities with unrelenting gory detail. “Oh my…” Quimby whispers, “This is the tower’s future, my dear.” The “real” Percy proclaims. “It appears we will have to watch where we traverse in these walls, for we will not be alone.” He chuckles to himself. The others do not join in, but look on with wide eyes.

Perpetual Ascendance

     Polymorph: supreme (rank 3)

• Ranged Attack

“The halls of the Void are endless. As you ascend to the top of the Bell tower, the tower can perceive your attempted invasion. Ascend and ascend, furthering its hollowed interior, raising itself to the Heavens and to the depths of Hell. She hears and feels your footsteps, and your very feet thus betray you.” – Ravenna Cervantes

Before their senses can adjust, the group is gone from the gruesome panorama. Their collective essence rises through the ceiling, then through another and another and another. Meanwhile, the very walls around them lunge and lash out in a wraithlike manner. The dead structure ostensibly comes to life as if in a rage that its confines are being disturbed. Luckily in their physically absent states the grouping is unharmed, but the same cannot be said about the inhabitants within the Spire. They observe one room where a young wickedly dressed individual throws a chair in a tantrum against a nearby wall. In return, the corresponding walls merge together and crush him relentlessly. In yet another they see a man of apparent West or South East Asian descent wearing sunglasses. The room is ornate and beautiful and he is surrounded by other men and women of questionable appearance. The man slams his fist on the table and they all shout in a unity. Then they rise and exit as if preparing for battle. The Spire seems to placate to them as the walls open to form a door for their departure. Once again, they reach a room where a man-monster with dripping mandibles is seen holding a screaming woman in his arms. He drops her down a pit which grows rocky teeth and devours her whole as if it desired the taste of blood. He then leaves and catches up with the group from the other room. Meanwhile, the Guild continues their ascent.

Watching the City...Again.

     Flight: standard (rank 1)

…Of chaos born and madness spawn, Raya Sayang hath lived on. So follow me and you will be made aware, of a destiny that our world must beware. If it’s not by her might or her minions that you will be made terror-laden, perhaps you’ll meet your end by her very own unruly haven. In any case, all will succumb to her whim and desire, once they fall prey to this Chaos Spire…

Finally, the Guild were sent hurtling into and then through a translucent wall and out into the blistery night. A warm wind blew as evident by the rustling leaves below…below! To their surprise, the Guild was miles above the Earth. The Huastec ruins were no more. Before them now was a magnificent Spire. Its mass fractured from a broken Earth. Through ruptured cracks in its blackened surface, steam hissed. A lava-like substance oozed down its side like glistening blood. The topmost portion of the Spire seemed to reach forever into the sky. As it flew carelessly, a small mass of people walked out from an opening in its foundation. They walked out on many meters of soil and broken landscape. The landscape appeared to be torn from the Earth itself. They sauntered forward until they reached an edge where nothing separated them from the endless sky. Percy was amongst them. The Guild was amongst them. The man with the glasses was with them. The man-creature with the mandibles was with them. A smattering of unrecognizable men and women were also there. In their ghostly forms above, the Guild looked on in amazement at this future yet to come.

Chaos' Vantage

     Invisibility: standard (rank 1)

Suddenly, the eerie calm is broken as a deafening alarm is sounded from a city below as the Spire is spotted from beneath. Not long thereafter, spotlights fall across the sky. In response, a soupy miasma falls athwart the heavens like an ominous portent of doom. The spotlights fall unto nothingness. The Spire is no longer there. The men and women that stood upon its perimeter are no longer there. Nothing… is there. Next, various aircraft fly into the sky taking part in search. Superheroes follow in close pursuit. Their guards are up, but all for naught. Nothing is there. That night, the news pours information about the mysterious island in the sky. That night conspiracies are formed. The Fallen are blamed. Terrorists are blamed. That night men, women and children cannot sleep due to fear that the thing they believe they saw in the sky will return. That night, the inhabitants of the Spire enter the city under the cover of darkness. That night, chaos reigns…

But that is the future. For now, a guild of actors awakens from their dream-like state in a ruined Huastec temple and plan.