Name: Horus
Formal Title: the Only One Of His Line, the King of Kings, Master of Masters, Lord of the Earth, Monarch of the Sky, Overlord of Four Horizons, Ruler of the Eight Directions, Grand Lion of the Infinite Desert, Great Falcon of the Endless Heaven, Majestic Emperor of the Living and the Dead, Eternal Sovereign of Undying Legions of Mittraim, Heart of the Sun, He Who Holds the Sceptre, Foremost of the Noble, Hundred Thousand Years Pharaoh, Imminent Inheritor
Age: approx. 120000
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Personality:Determined, vain, honorable, proud, unyielding, egoistical, arrogant, wise, domineering, cunning, just, arrogant to an unimaginable degree - King Horus is as ruthless and tyrannical as a ruler can ever be, a king whose thirst for power and lordship is as unquenchable as his imperiousness and pomp are limitless. Mountains may crumble, rivers run dry, sun may go out, aeons may pass, kingdoms fall and armies perish but no matter the circumstances, in the mind of Horus, one eternal constant will remain forever, letters carved into his being on the basest, deepest level - he is King and the King must Rule. Regardless of new circumstances he might find himself in, no matter his weakened state or threats looming over him, Horus is always driven by his regal nature, to rule and dominate, even if path to power spans centuries and must be paved over bones of countless foes, even if every step along the way will be like walking on hot iron. That is to say, despite his singular will and ambition, the Pharaoh is not blind to the reality - he simply considers a reality that obstructs him to be in dire need of remaking. Confronted with obstacles insurmountable today, Horus will return to them tomorrow, in a year or in a decade, again and again until his inevitable eventual success. Of course, in his pursuit of royal privilege, Horus also does not forget about the royal duty - while he demands complete subservience and eternal adoration from those who pledge themselves to him, he faithfully and honorably dispenses protection, order and generous rewards in return, taking hostilities against his sworn slaves as a personal insult.
Plot Summary of Original content:The book series speak of a great world inspired by many ancient myths and modern reconstructions of such - a vast congregation of exotic realms populated by many creatures, human-like and utterly inhuman. The reality is starkly different from all others in that its inhabitants, from the beginning of time, have known nothing but evil and sin. The entire world is utterly devoid of all things good, kind, virtuous or saintly - yet at the basest level, at the level of a common man's eyes, nothing is much different from the reality we all know and are used to. The difference lies in the deepest levels of people's minds - they do not ever act out of compassion, mercy or love. Every action is measured logically, considered from all sides in order to maximize the profit and pleasure of a given man and the community. The mother nurtures her child to benefit from a helping pair of hands and leave behind a legacy, the child obeys the mother for education and help in getting by in the world. Slaves serve a master for stability and food, the master rules over his subordinates in order to make the grand total of his works much mightier than merely the sum of their parts. The plot most often explores different troubling philosophical themes while following the lives of notable figures of the world, studying their mindsets, witnessing their greatest and lowest moments as they chase their dreams and ambitions. Currently the cycle consists of three books, with no sure ending in sight.
Backstory:Horus is a King of Mittraim, a realm that knew naught but evil from the beginning of time - of course, the term is very relative, since there never was any "good" to compare it to, but still. Born in times when the world was plagued by brutal wars, famine, disease, plague and drought, when rivers were sand and when mountains were sweating blood under the unblinking gaze of eternal, all-burning sun, Horus was pained by how inglorious and low his domain was brought and was determined to lead his people to greatness. Arrogant and tyrannical to the extreme, he was nevertheless a wise and dedicated ruler that recognized with help of his priesthood that only a king that could command respect and favor of Gods could also command the hearts and minds of his people. To this end, Horus alone among all of the petty lords of Mittraim paid tribute and homage to the gods of olden times, honoring them with magnificent temples built on ground bones and crushed flesh and titanic statues founded on sweat and blood. At the first anniversary of his coronation, during a solar eclipse - a most auspicious omen - Horus adjured the gods to grant Mittraim glory and bounty and him, power and strength to increase it and conquer his foes. With terrible incantations and mighty arcane gestures he sacrificed his children in a grand and bloody ritual, proving his infinite commitment and displaying the boundless determination that the King possessed.
The next day, a massive storm raged through the land, with thunder and with lightning and with the first rain that ever graced the dessicated visage of the Mittraim in many years. The great river of the kingdom once again flooded, and with fresh water, diseases and plagues were washed away from the kingdom. The harvest that followed that year was the greatest that the kingdom ever experienced up to date. With evidence obvious and all protesting voices silenced brutally, both the priesthood and the common populace saw and accepted the signs that spoke that Horus was indeed chosen by great powers from beyond and accepted the unquestionable dominion of the first God-King.
In following years, Horus brought the land to prosperity and great conquest, his empire spanning far and wide, his disciplined legions and his father's works of strategic genius supplemented by his own acumen ensuring that no other man could claim Mittraim as his domain - one by one, he brought to heel all of his rivals and all of the petty lords, leading his armies from the front to slake his own battle-lust firsthand. Undisputed and unrefuted, the God-King brought the Mittraim Empire into its golden age by his iron-fisted rule, but he himself was still not content. His devoted soldiers set sail in mighty fleets to conquer lands beyond the seas, with many slaves and treasures brought back to build great monuments and cyclopean statues that Horus commanded to be built to glorify himself and the gods.
For all his success, in his supreme arrogance, Horus was still frustrated - with magics and information from his armies at his disposal, he knew that for all his glory and power, for the strength of his still-mighty arms and the youthful power of the heart that was beating in his chest, he was destined to be defeated by the most cruel foe in the world - the inevitable passage of time and his own mortality. Simmering with rage at the world far too great for him to conquer in a single lifetime, riches far too abundant to own all of them, unfeeling death that'll rob him of all that he has achieved, Horus furiously swore in throes of arrogant denial that the grave will never claim him. Gathering his priests and courts of mighty sorcerers, his wisest, greatest and most powerful of advisors, Horus set them to a task of discovering a way to cheat death and deny it's unyielding hand. The learned congregation toiled for years, travelling far and wide with King's legions and discovering many great mysteries of life and death, incredible techniques and mysterious ministrations. For decades they brewed potions, recited mantras, concocted creams and powders to offer to Lord Horus, for no less than three centuries did they extend the King's life - but alas, they could not halt the passage of time, merely postponing the inevitable. Ashamed and afraid to reveal this to Horus, for his wrath was legendary, the priests journeyed further beyond the pale, making incredible progress, but to no avail. Finally, when the God-King was laid out on his death-bed, a withered corpse whose liquids had run dry, the priests have dared to disclose their failure to their master. There was but a single option for him, they spoke with bloody tears streaming out of their eyes, sunken and murky with their own advanced age - to temporarily bridge the gap between the mortal world and the world beyond, to mummify the dead and preserve their flesh so that when the time comes and the technique is perfected they may return to life in mighty and imperishable bodies. As Horus lie dying, full of royal pride and furious anger to his very last breath, the priests promised to meet him with a golden paradise upon his return, a perfect realm to which he will wake up and rule for an eternity. Not in slightest at peace in spite of his priesthood's solemn oaths, Horus thus passed away with a final curse upon his lips - and an order to construct a vast burial tomb for his internment.
Hardcore to the end. Then, dozens of thousands of years passed, countless generations of kings ruling over the realm, constructing their tombs - none as great and wondrous as that of Horus, of course - and passing away to avait the golden paradise. Then, once upon a time, a great and terrible Necromancer-King from realms far, far beyond the horizon, realms which Horus has never reached in his lifetime, invaded the land of Mittraim and cast a diabolic spell that re-animated the numerous dead that the sands amassed over the aeons, including all the ancient kings and undeath-seeking priests of yore.
They ganged up on the horrible foe and turned his power against him, multiplying his knowledge with theirs in order to destroy him and assimilate his knowledge.
Then however, the undead kings proceeded to squabble among each other like spoiled children, vying for control of untold myriads of now-undead citizens and cities of the realm. Unwilling to see his once-glorious empire be reduced to ashes and dust by internal struggles, the first of the great Hierophants invaded the grand tomb of Horus in which he still slept despite the necromancer's magic due to extremely powerful wards and protections and woke him up. Pissed off at the fact that he was tricked like a bitch by his priests who promised him an eternal new body and a golden paradise but gave him a walking corpse and a bone-littered desert, Horus once again set out to knock heads together and restore order before going out on a conquering rampage in order to reunite his shattered empire and reach out beyond the ancient borders, hell-bent on creating the golden paradise he was so cruelly cheated out of. In yet another exotic land beyond the horizon, Horus and his legions made a startling discovery that'd severely challenge his perceptions...
Weapons, Powers & Abilities:Wargear:
The Crown of Mittraim Undivided - Horus' majestic headpiece is forged from dozens of lesser crowns belonging to lords and masters of the fractured Mittraim that he conquered in his first lifetime. This most regal of all crowns amplifies Horus' already substantial and perceivable aura of royal glory - it's hard for a common man to look upon the King's form and not feel a slight tremble in his knees. The true strength of the artifact, however, lies in the fact that even the most mindless of undead can feel the might and power of the Master of Masters, and feel an innate desire to obey, nigh-impossible to wrest from under Horus' control unless he wishes so.
Scarab Brooch of Pale Moonlight - wrought in the image of the bone-carapaced holy beetle dwelling in the Mittraim sands, this arcane talisman surrounds Horus in a wreath of divine energies to turn aside lesser blows directed at the form of the King.
Blessed Blade of Blinding Sunlight - this revered weapon resembles both a historical khopesh and a european double-handed sword. Blessed by the sun god of Mittraim, the blade's white-hot edge is infused with heat of the desert sunlight and sets the air itself ablaze around it, glowing so brightly when Horus calls upon its power that it may permanently blind a man that looks upon it even through dark tinted glass.
Aureous Plate of Magnificence - Horus' personal suit of armour, consecrated sixty six times with blood of uncounted sacrifices, this set of war girdling is forged to take the utmost advantage of the God-King's imperishable nature - all-encasing and covering him from head to toe, with magical runes scribed upon the inside of the helmet to allow perceptions and wrought from the arcanely alloyed metals and gilded in an entire lake of boiling gold, Aureous Plate can weather even the mightiest blows, utterly unable to bend, deform or be scratched. Aside from that, however, the suit is fully mundane - as much as anything about Horus can be.
Chariot of Gods - this mighty, titanic chariot carries within its sturdy structure blessings and wards of all the gods and goddesses of Mittraim and its wheels blaze with mystical white flame. However, in this new realm, the King's pimping ride is nowhere to be seen.
Abilities:
Eternal Vigour - eventually succeeding in his life's quest, even if only partially, Horus became beyond death. His body, even though dessicated and partially decomposed despite the best efforts of the priests and doctors of his court, possesses resilience and strength far beyond human norm. While not as mighty as some of his war beasts might have been, Horus's grasp can break the bones of a man's arm and his flesh can withstand a lot of punishment without buckling or failing to act upon the command of his indomitable spirit. However heavy-handed, Horus' tactile perceptions and movements are dulled and slow from the millenias of dead sleep from which he never could recover fully - each cumbersome blow of the Desert Lord can dish out great pain, but for that it first must connect with the target.
My Will Be Done - Horus is a true monarch, even in this mocking imitation of life, and his arrogance and regality are unmatched, as is his close connection with the ebb and flow of the energies of Death and Undeath. As such, his minions and servants in immediate vicinity receive a part of his blessing, majesty of the God King rubbing off on them by proximity only. Those who pledge themselves to Horus, in life or in death, find their bodies stronger, more enduring and less perceptive to pain.
Tactical Genius - with a long lifetime full of military conquest comes experience in the matters of war. Horus posesses a great mind for conquest, aptitude for strategy and tactics and capability for commanding large and small units on the battlefield, be it from the front or from the safety of the commander's tent far behind the frontlines. Quick to adjust to new situations, posessing a keen interest in all innovations that might bring the defeat of his enemy quicker, Horus is a warlord capable of great feats when put in command of an army.
Lord of Double Death - between mighty artifacts, strength of his ressurected form and boundless ambition, Horus' greatest power lies in the necromantic lore and black magic he learned from his priests and many foreign sorcerers captured during his countless campaigns. To his eternal rage and shame, Horus is nowhere as capable with the desert sorceries as his now-missing court, but even what little secrets of the Otherworld are devastatingly mighty if correctly invoked. The greatest achievement of Mittraim magic, however, is always at his side - the power that brought Horus back into the world of the living never left his body, churning within it like a furious sun, ready for the King to call upon it should he have no desire to retire once again. Whenever Horus' flesh and bone sustains damage far too great to be endured mundanely, the God King can allow himself to crumble into finest sand and whisk away on invisible winds in order to gather his power once again and reassemble his body in safety, to later come again for another try. However, such a feat of cheating death requires great amounts of sorcerous power - and it is not only dependant on Horus' personal reserves but also on the ambient energy of the battlefield. On an old battlefield, saturated by death and entropy, where bone meal makes up the ground and stench of wet, freshly turned earth is strong in the air, Horus can call upon his secret strength much easier than in a lush forest existence of which celebrates the beauty and plump vigour of life.
Mittraim Lore of Double Death, Sorceries of Shifting Sands, Winds of Magic:
Touch of Dust
-With an incantation to the ravenous jackal-headed god of death and an arcane gesture of immeasurable profanity, the sorcerer focuses all of his might in his hand, which glows with awesome power and becomes able to reduce all that it touches into fine dust. The process is not instant - but even a short, lingering touch is enough to leave a man crippled for life as his very life's blood dissolves into ashes and his bones become brittle and quick to crumble.
Soulblight
-Harnessing the ancient powers of the underworld, sorcerer's mouth distorts into a gaping whirlpool from which pours forth a whipping wind that howls throughout the battlefield and saps at the essence of all foes, weakening their resolve and will to survive the battle. Naturally meek peons find it hard to resist the temptation of simply laying down and awaiting imminent demise.
Life Leech
Spirit Leech
-A twin set of spells granted by calling upon the judge-god of Mittraim afterlife, chanting a rhyming, rhytmical mantra causes lives or spirits of two or more beings to be linked together with a tough cord of gilded sinew. Whatever damage is caused to one of them is reversed for another - when one suffers, the other feels renewed and fresh. As one is hurting, the other is reinvigorated and as one is subsumed by crushing despair, the other becomes fearless and high-spirited.
Bones of the Land
-A simple invocation to the cruel and ever-thirsty gods of desert sands, this chant causes sharp pillars of rock and sand to suddenly erupt underneath enemies, creating vast patches of impassable terrain and skewering those foes that are not quick enough to get away, the blood of their torn bodies hungrily swallowed by the earth.
Doom and Darkness
-A spell gleaned from the books of foreign dead-mongers and spirit-breakers, it summons forth the primal understanding of death and decay from within the mind and body of the target. The world turns black for the hapless foe as he enters what might as well be a catatonic state, confronted by infinite possibilities of his demise. Only the strongest spirits can break through the spell's veil without taking their own lives, and even then, passing the trials of one's own mind takes time and diligence.
Black Sun
-A truly devastating sorcery used only in the most bloody battles, this long and nigh-unpronouncable spell creates a massive orb of tendril-edged darkness upon the battlefield, a literal hole in the fabric of space, and an anathema to all things. What does not evade it's touch - and the sphere under the caster's control can zoom around with startling speed - simply begins to stop existing, starting from the point of contact and rapidly spreading throughout the entire structure, be it a building or a living body, as long as the contact is continued. Those who the sphere passes through right away retire, physically and spiritually, into a realm beyond any knowledge - indeed, not even the greatest of Mittraim priests have an idea of where do those who perish in such a way go.
WIP:
Grave Call
Dark Riders
Breath of Darkness
Death's Door
Necromutation
Final Words
Witherwind
Curse of Ages
Pain
Earth's Call
Deathrattle
Stone Bones
Dance of the Dead
Weapon first, then innate abilities, then a spell list. If one or more do not apply to your character, leave them empty.
Author: Golpestoque Fuerza, writer, student of religion, portrait painter, dabbling philosopher of Portuguese descent
Real Name: Abelardo Ernest Fisk
Age: 39
Gender: Male
