HELL IS EMPTY, AND ALL THE DEVILS ARE HERE.

The denizens of the cell blocks and the sweltering palaces of pain are no longer
bound in their pestilent nether-pit. The vermin-gnawed weave of reality is coming
undone for good, and as it frays, so do the boundaries. This miserable wreck of a
world has guests who have waited outside for years, and finally the door has been
opened to them.

The stifling presence of evil smothers the land. Depravity mounts beyond control,
violence overflows, blasphemy blossoms like weeds. The Church cannot stem this
unholy tide. These are mass migrations, come to stay. They lure in their followers
with promises of salvation when HIS gaze rakes the land and scythes it free of life, or
at least with decadence and luxury until that wrath breaks loose. What has the
Basilisk ever given them, except despair and baleful judgment? Masses of starving
wretches trip over themselves to fall upon their faces at the feet of horrors who have
crawled up from the darkness.

New, monstrous petty-gods spring up in the hovels and hamlets. The Church is
beleaguered as hellholes open and demons spew out across the earth. The sky
darkens ever deeper and the wind carries a whiff of sulfur stench.

Damnation has Come.

DAMNATIO is an independent production by Ross_Hollander and is not affiliated

with Ockult Örtmästare Games or Stockholm Kartell. It is published under the
MÖRK BORG Third Party License. MÖRK BORG is copyright Ockult Örtmästare
Games and Stockholm Kartell.
BLASPHEMOUS SCRIVENER
Scribes who copy down descriptions of demons, maleficent prayers, or
similar unholy articles always run the risk of being consumed by their
work. Scriveners become obsessed with scrawling and spreading defiling
epistles, writing until their hands are flayed to the bone by friction.
HP 7 ARMOR scribe’s robes n/a MORALE scholar, not a fighter, 7
IRON QUILL d2, and one random effect (d4)
1. CONDEMNATION -d3 on all your attacks for d3 hrs.
2. HERETICAL SCREED can’t use Powers for 13 hrs.
3. GRISLY TRUTHS your armor counts as one tier lower for d3 hrs.
4. HELLISH DOCTRINE cut off the skin they wrote on or you can’t
recover HP.
● DISTRACTIBLE will pursue rare codices, works of literature and similar precious
writings, to the length of braving mortal peril to hoard them.
● UNHOLY they can’t see pages of scriptures or Sacred Scrolls; somebody fully
concealed behind these would be invisible to a Scrivener. However, they can smell
Unclean Scrolls and track anyone carrying one by their scent.

BLADE FIEND
The vengeful souls of slain duelists. In Hell they are tormented by being forced to fight
and lose unfair duels, over and over. Eventually, they are twisted into self-loathing
and vicious demons, gangling hulks of scar tissue with swords for claws, eager to
maim and kill.
HP 13 ARMOR scarred hide -d2 MORALE hellish arrogance, 7
SABER CLAWS d6, attacks twice per turn, ignores armor.
● EGOTISTICAL can never refuse a challenge to a one-on-one duel.
● UNHOLY parry its blows (crit on Defense) with a cross or spill holy water on its
claws to make them rust to useless stumps. (Break off the claws and make them
into swords and they deal d8 damage, but only d2 to demons and undead.)

MONK OF HELL
In monasteries black as dried old blood they study, refining their anti-virtue, reciting
litanies of blasphemy and arising at midnight to chant the sins and faults of God.
When they reach mastery, they are hung with their own rope girdles, and descend into
the Pit to serve their Lords in person.
HP 5 ARMOR n/a MORALE zealous, 10
STAVE d4
● FEEBLE they spend all their time uprooting plants to desecrate the natural
world and committing gluttony at feasts. DR10 to dodge attacks and to hit.
● DARK CHANT they chorus an unending litany of despair and futility. If there
are five or more of them reciting it in unison, Powers can’t be used in their
presence and their staves leak corrosive blood, dealing d6+1 ignoring armor.
SILENCE DEMON
Darkness, stillness…silence. The demon of the drowned, the buried alive, the
smothered. Wormlike, with a gaping pit-maw, and two puny little clawed arms. It
burrows through earth and sea to find its audience, before asphyxiation can extinguish
their sorry souls, and there in the suffocating stillness it makes them a deal.
HP 16 ARMOR scaly hide -d3 MORALE rover by nature, 8
GNASHING JAWS d10, 1 in 4 chance that crushing, grinding teeth automatically
degrade armor by 1 tier if it hits.
BREATH THIEF sucks in all air in a colossal, wheezing heave. Anyone within
13m is suddenly asphyxiating; test TOU DR14 or take d6 damage.
● BURROWER can move through earth as well as above it.
● HULKING coils of loathsome flesh upon coils of loathsome flesh,
difficult to miss. DR10 to hit.
● A DEAL forfeit your soul; you will be sent to a place of your choosing in
the mortal world, and for the duration of your life, be able to breathe freely no
matter the environment you are in.
● UNHOLY can’t tunnel through consecrated earth (which goes down
forever from the surface), such as churchyards and cathedrals.

INFERNAL PROCTOR
Cultivators of vice. They are gestalt fiends; when the depravity and license reach critical
mass, they will arise, from the spilled blood and wine, from the flesh of the wanton and the
bones of the feasts. They turn luxury into obligation; none shall leave, not while a single
living body remains to desecrate the face of creation.
HP 13 ARMOR infernal resolve, -d4 MORALE the party must go on, 11
PROCTOR’S SWORD d8
● AURA OF DEPRAVITY if you have any former addictions, they are heightened to
crippling levels while within 6m of the Proctor. The Proctor also has an unlimited
supply of whatever you crave, so long as it can be offered in a hand (i.e., gold, meat,
alcohol, your enemies’ scalps, not enlightenment or strength).
● UNHOLY can’t die as long as the revel endures.

SINFUL REVELER
The sun is gone, the ground is dry, the food is low, the time is short. Who wouldn’t throw
themselves with wild abandon into the orgies and festivals? Losing themselves to spirits
and sensation, barely even conscious of the Proctor’s fell presence when it manifests. As
long as the party endures, the fiend cannot die.
HP 4 ARMOR fanatical partygoer, -d2 MORALE lost to the ecstacy, n/a
REVEL DEBRIS broken bottles, chair legs, etc., d4
● THRONG +2DR harder to defend against a reveler’s attacks for each other reveler
currently fighting you.
ANCHORITE DEMON
A skilled tempter. It appears to martyrs
awaiting the executioner’s block or wronged
wretches framed for someone else’s crimes,
and makes a simple deal. They appear as
fellow inmates: humanoid, clad in tatters,
eyes sunken and flesh wasted. But their
manacles don’t hang heavy on their wrists.
They flex, and slither of their own accord…
HP 15 ARMOR bound in chains -d4
MORALE lifer, 10
CHAINLASH spear-thrust reach, d8 damage.
Test AGI DR16 or you’re being constricted by
the animate chains; you
have d4+1 turns until you’re
crushed to death. Test STR
DR16 on each turn to
escape. (Others can also
spend their turns testing to
try and pull you out.)
● A DEAL forfeit
your soul; you will
forever be a ghost to
all restraints,
capable of bypassing
any barrier or
bondage meant to
hold you in place
(i.e., cell bars, not
castle walls).
● UNHOLY covering
yourself with holy
water makes you repulsive and
slippery to its creeping, writhing
chains; escaping becomes STR DR10.
MANGLER FIEND
The hell-ghosts of deceased sadists, often
hunters and taxidermists, sometimes
schoolmasters or physicians. Tormented in
the cell blocks by being ripped asunder and
sewn back together by packs of cackling
imps, forced to dismember and repair
themselves only to be torn to pieces once
more, until all that’s left are stitches and hate.
HP 10 ARMOR accursed flesh -d3
MORALE blind with hatred, 10
RAGGED CLAW makes d6 attacks per turn,
d3, 1 in 4 chance of infection from filthy,
gore-caked fingernails.
● TUMBLING their mishap forms- legs
too many, head misplaced, arms
shifted, guts hanging out -makes them
skitter and caper nauseatingly. They’re
DR14 to hit in melee and DR16 to hit
from range.
● UNHOLY their stitches begin to
dissolve if soaked with holy water. If
you splash the horror with it, d3 turns
later, 1 limb will fall off (-1 attack on
Ragged Claw, stacking until
0, whereupon they fall apart
for good and die).
MYRMIDON DEMON
Soldiers of flesh and bone,
their shields ugly
protrusions of chitin, their
helmets actually the
carapace of their head. They
hang vulture-like around
wars, waiting to find
someone receptive to their
call. By their rasped
demand, miraculously
victorious soldiers ravage,
slaughter and raze temples
to the ground.
HP 10 ARMOR chitinous
plate -d6 MORALE steadfast 10
JAVELIN it has an unlimited supply of these.
DR14 to defend against, d6.
SWORD d8
● MIGHTY DR16 to defend against or
hit.
● UNHOLY saint’s weapons always crit
against it.
● A DEAL forfeit your soul; you will be
granted certain victory over one foe
(aside from the myrmidon) whom you
name, but must do with the
vanquished all the grisly torments the
myrmidon will command you to
inflict.
PARASITE FIEND
Formed of those who took their pleasures in the torment of the small.
Anyone from kings to ratcatchers. In Hell, they are given their recompense,
skulls sawn open and creeping swarms of vermin introduced therein. The
brain is eaten away; the carcass that remains, freakishly twisted and
swollen, is slave to the infestation.
HP 8 ARMOR tainted flesh -d2 MORALE verminous perfidy, 7
GNAWING BITE oversized frontal teeth with flesh-shearing force, d6
ignoring armor, test TOU DR14 or you’ve contracted a rot-fever and are Infected.
PUMMEL two attacks per turn, d6.
● INFESTED can’t be commanded or blinded by magic.
● UNHOLY scour its hollow cranium with holy water and the
body beneath will drop down lifeless.
● DISTRACTIBLE parasite fiends are enslaved to their infestation’s whims; they can
often be drawn off with any pungent or sweet foodstuff.

SEETHE DEMON
They can smell grudges, and they know what the sons of men will do to settle a grudge.
Something like a cross between frog in shape and gorilla in size, pallid skin hairless and
slimy. Once paid a soul, there is nothing they won’t inflict on your hated enemy.
HP 20 ARMOR hulking flesh -d3 MORALE a job’s a job, 9
PUMMEL two attacks per turn, d10
RIP ASUNDER one target tests AGI DR14 or is seized by the seethe demon. After d2 turns,
they will (d3): 1, have a random limb ripped off of their body, 2d6 ignoring armor; 2, get
smashed and flailed against the ground, 2d10, ignoring armor; 3, be torn completely apart,
lethal instantly.
● BRUTAL attacks are DR16 to defend against.
● A DEAL forfeit your soul; the seethe demon will accept the name of one mortal
target, track down the nearest person with that name, and do everything you request
it to do to them. If it’s been sent to kill you, it will also be willing to take your soul as
protection and leave you alive.

PHILANDATAUR
A fiend formed of those who made playthings of the powerless for themselves. Emperors
with their slave-girls, kings with their chambermaids. Their bodies are riveted together,
and the lurching abominations are instilled with a raving hatred of the flesh they once
craved, gnawing their own skin and meat off if there’s nobody else around to flay.
HP 15 ARMOR bloody bones n/a MORALE crazed with hate, 10
WHIRL OF CLAWS d4+1 attacks, d4 each
● FLAYER for each time you’ve been hit by one of its attacks this round, add +1 to the
damage its next attack does to you. (i.e., already hit by two, third one deals d4+2.)
● OF TWO MINDS can’t be controlled by magic. However, bickering, uncoordinated
personalities mean that their attacks are DR10 to dodge.
 BLOOD SHRIVER
All vampires go to Hell, but nobody asks what happens to them when
they get there. The answer is that their fangs are torn out and they
become half-sentient, gargoyle-like fiends, the wounds of their mouths
forever pouring blood. They’re kept as sentinels of the cell block, sent to
track down would-be runaways.
HP 8 ARMOR tainted flesh -d2 MORALE slavish obedience, 9
RAKING CLAWS two attacks, d3 each
● BLOOD SPURT hocks up and spews a jet of thick blood into your face. Test AGI
DR12 or you’re half-blinded by the sanguine mess, +2DR on attacking and
defending. Stacks up to +6DR. Takes one round to wipe the blood off.
● FLYING they can fly.
● UNHOLY silver weapons always crit against them, as long as the silver itself is
what’s making contact with their flesh. Can’t cross running water.

DESECRATED KNIGHT
The trophy champion of the armies of Hell, a paladin or crusader turned to their cause.
They are inverted- walking with their heads an inch off the ground and their feet in the
air, as though they had their own gravity. They wear their own flayed skin as a cape and
have doglike fangs for teeth.
HP 20 ARMOR unholy plate -d6+1, plus shield -1 MORALE hideous zeal, 11
HELLFIRE LONGSWORD d8, 2 attacks per turn, 1 in 6 chance it also sets you aflame
(d4/turn until you spend a round smothering yourself out).
● BLASPHEMOUS crosses melt, holy water turns to blood and Sacred Scrolls
become rotten scraps of velum within 33m of it. Hallowed ground it crosses dries,
cracks and becomes stained with blood.
● MIGHTY DR16 to defend against or hit.
● UNHOLY JAUNT can’t really fly, just walks ‘downwards’ (upwards, for it) and
returns to the earth. Can move 33 ft. upwards at most.

MIND-SCRATCHER DEMON
A cackling, coal-skinned little imp with six-inch claws that rend steel like paper. They sit
on the shoulders of torturers, conquerors and other such brutes, nicking and slicing their
brains until the victim caves and sells their soul to be free of the torment.
HP 7 ARMOR wrinkled hide n/a MORALE special*
VORPAL CLAWS attacks twice, d6 ignoring armor. If you have any Powers memorized, test
PRE DR14 or d3 uses of them are sliced out of your mind.
● ARTISAN OF TEMPTATION* never flees is the victim they’ve been whittling on
is still alive. If they die, the demon’s morale counts as 7.
● A DEAL forfeit your soul; in return, have any number of memories, experiences or
diseases of the mind excised from your psyche. Alternatively, get one carved in,
permanently remembering something (this can allow you to use a Power at will).
● PARASITE can choose to become invisible while on its victim’s shoulder.
CERBERUS
Favored guard-beast of the Pit. Native to the edge of oblivion, haunting graveyards- the
Church Grim -or the dead cities of civilizations long past. The three heads all hate each other,
and most cerberi actually only have one functional head, the other two hanging limp by necks
long since torn open, jugulars ripped out.
HP 8 ARMOR mangy hide n/a MORALE very good boy, 11
BITE* d4, 1 in 6 chance of infection (causes burning fever and terror of anything doglike). Once
it’s hit you with a bite, it’s got its teeth in you; you won’t be able to run away until you kill the
thing or break its grip (test STR DR18).
● MANY-HEADED* a cerberus has d3 functional heads. For each head that it has, it can
make 2 bite attacks per turn.
● HOWL once it’s spotted you, it will raise a ruckus to bring everything within 666ft.
running. Throw it a warm limb and it might keep its mouth shut.
● UNHOLY if you can wrestle a cross-carved collar onto a head, it will go berzerk,
foaming at the mouths, snapping, writhing, and within d4 turns gnaw the collared head
off. If it’s only got one, it will smash itself into walls or floors until it dies.

MINOS
Demons of the cell-blocks exclusively; they don’t make deals, just torture and guard. As such,
they see other demons as irresponsible gallivanters, and other demons see them as lifeless
killjoys. The minos are built like hulking humanoids with long, rodent-like faces and thick,
sinuous tails- fully prehensile, often used to wield extra weapons.
HP 12 ARMOR flayed flesh robe -d2 MORALE dedicated, unlike some people, 11
JAILER’S BILLHOOK -4DR easier to dodge from within sneezing range, d8
TAIL BLADE d6
● SNAG if you try to run from it from within hook range, test AGI DR14 or be tripped up
by the wicked hook.
● CONSTRICT can forgo slashing to crush you in its tail instead. Test STR DR14 or be
caught up in its coiling tail, taking d3 damage/turn, ignoring armor, until someone else
can pry you free (STR DR18) or the minos is killed.

HELL’S ANGEL
Wings of luminous glow and cycloptic eye of golden light; body of twisting, blood-splattered
metal. Feral predators among the cell blocks. All but the senior-most demons hide when it
skitters past. It drinks blood, inasmuch as its mouthless pseudo-head can drink; it seems to just
bathe in it, mostly. Never speaks. Never spares.
HP 18 ARMOR flesh of steel -d4 MORALE unthinking aggression, n/a
HEAVENLY SMITE d8, anywhere within its line of sight.
PUMMEL d6
● HOC EST SANGUIS if it strikes you in melee or smites you from within sneezing
range, it regains d10 HP.
● MARKSMAN the angel’s smites are DR16 to dodge.
● CREATURE OF STEEL can’t be poisoned, sickened, or controlled by magic. If killed, it
can be rejuvenated by being anointed with fresh blood.
MISER FIEND
For those who shut themselves away from this dying world, locked inside rotting manors and
wind-whipped castles, there is a special torment reserved in hell. In are gathered a few dozen
miscellaneous wretches, and sewn all of them into the gut of the disembowelled sinner, a
grotesque gravid, groaning and weeping in a chorus of voices.
HP 16 ARMOR loathsome flesh -d3 MORALE a loner still, 7
CORPULENT CRUSH 2d6, ignoring armor
ENGULF its stomach splits open like a gory maw, entrails dangling and victims’ warped and
broken limbs flailing. One target within sneezing range of the miser tests STR DR12 or is
snatched and dragged in by the blood-soaked limbs. Once dragged inside, they will have their
soul leached out in d3+1 rounds. Deal the miser 6 or more damage in a round and anyone
currently trapped inside is regurgitated.
● CUMBERSOME waddling and sluggish, DR10 to dodge and hit
● WE ARE MANY can’t be controlled by magic. The miser fiend has 2d6 souls within it;
if it runs out of souls, it dies. It can absorb new souls from anyone it devours. It can
spend a soul to regain d10 HP, spew hellfire on d3 targets for d8 damage each,
ignoring armor, or grant itself a burst of strength to smash through any wooden walls
or break non-blessed metal restraints

SHAME-EATER DEMON
Leering, hacking, coughing, stooped, mummylike but somehow with the impression that it was
born in its crusty rot-gray bandages. It finds its way to all those skidding towards the abyss of
disgrace. Adulterers who hear husbands’ footfalls, merchants whose copper has been found
sub-standard. And it makes them a deal…
HP 12 ARMOR ragged bandages n/a MORALE hard seller, 10
CORRODING CLAW at its touch flesh decays; age of decades, seeping in in seconds, d8.
● A DEAL forfeit your soul to the demon. It will rip you apart and make you anew. Face
and voice changed, a fictitious reputation established, everything different and innocent.
Only you will carry your smoldering guilt inside your sinful breast, until you meet it
again at the bloody iron gates; all others will be oblivious.
● SHADOW WALKER insubstantial in darkness; can’t strike or be struck unless there’s
a light source illuminating it, but can still whisper its offers to those hiding from light.
 HEll ON EARTH

I. The cell blocks have sprung up everywhere, but especially around

Galgenbeck. The Two-Headed Basilisks willingly host them now.
Sometimes they even obligate the people to spectate the torments.
What better way to teach the hatefulness of sin than to have the
punishments for it on public display?
II. Cults of the nether world are finding themselves in a crisis of dogma,
as their overlords walk among them. Some attest that this is the dark
salvation, the time of Hell’s lords, and they must increase their zeal
respective to the momentous occasion. Others claim that this is but a
step in the grand plan of darkness, and certainly not a time to stop
tithing to the Blood Hierophant.
III. There are public debates, between the Basilisk-faithful and the
clergy of the Pit. Why does HE allow all this suffering upon us? Is
Hell really that bad? Should dealing with demons actually be
anathema? Popular entertainment. The first side to concede a point
is executed, usually in an extensive and creative process.
IV. The demons stay away from Bergen Chrypt. They fear the shadows
of those black mountains, fear what broods beneath them. In
benighted logic, those who oppose the fiendish new arrivals have
begun to wear Bergen-stone amulets about their necks.
V. For exorbitant sums, smirking, crimson-skinned wardens will escort
patrons through the cell blocks, to visit the damned deceased of their
family. It’s high amusement for the demons, watching the living
blubber over the grisly tortures inflicted on the dead.
VI. There are no demons in Alliáns. They know nothing they could offer
could fill the abyss of hunger that yawns there.
VII. The damned and the deceased war in the Valley of the Unfortunate
Undead. Demonic raiders plunder the crypts to drag out the dead
and bring them to their just torment. They’ve begun paying, in
blood-stained coins of ruddy gold, for mortal mercenaries to go do
the corpse-snatching themselves. In retaliation, the crypt-born have
begun to haul the living to their barrows and tombs, to seal their
souls inside undead flesh, where the claws of Hell cannot reach.
VIII. King Fathmu IX cultivates a caste of warlocks, each one a ‘handler’ to
a fiend they’ve sold their soul off to. (Foolish, of course, to think
they’re the ones giving commands.) He keeps them loyal with
conditions of luxury, buying allegiance with meat, wine and exotic,
mind-blurring tinctures of bliss.
IX. Word from sea-rattled sailors says that amid the black waves,
Südglans is being rebuilt. Legions of sea-demons toil to raise up the
Final Empire, holdout against the obliteration that is to come, for all
those willing to forfeit their souls in exchange for citizenship.
X. Demons dance at Graven-Tosk, their keening music scratching at the
ear. But those who dare to attend the revels do return- scratched,
clawed, bitten, scorched, and with the nubs of horns beginning to
sprout from their brows…
XI. Grift is forbidden to demons, the bridges of the Múr officially closed
to cloven hooves. They get in anyway because nobody cares what the
Kindly One says is forbidden or not. Here they do their finest trade.
The dual prohibition of crown and cathedral on dealing with the
demons makes it an irresistible temptation to the people.
XII. Violence mounts in the streets as the faithful clash. Whole city blocks
are turned to war zones between demoniacs and Basiliskians. The
demons rejoice in this, drinking in the stench of spilled gore and
voided bowels among the dead and dying. The Basilisks disapprove
but don’t actually prohibit such crusading.
XIII. Fiends are sold by the dozen from the iron cells of the hell-holes.
They make fine mercenaries, demanding no payment, food or sleep,
and the demons have no scruples about whom they sell them to.
Already bandit clans of Sarkash and the petty nobles who squat in
the lightless desolation of the Palace of the Shadow King compete to
build up foul menageries of tormented souls.
 HE, SHE and HEll
The reason the Basilisks cannot abide the fiends is down to the simple clash of natures
between them. Demons are creatures of change; inversion. Hence crucifixes turned
upside down, prayers recited backwards, and the blood of the Pit-faithful poured into
accursed chalices for their demonic masters to drink.

In truth, though, demons would invert all things, and when they finished with that,
they’d do it again. Angels and demons, the insane theologist Marrakaiv Ugdalis
declared, are the exact same species, and they change places after every apocalypse,
swapping roles for the duration of the next world.

Contrast the Basilisks. Their gaze, they say, petrifies. It might be true. At any rate, the
image is: acting flesh into inoffensive, mute stone. Their decrees throttle, keeping the
pitiful apes that swarm over their world to a minimum of clamor and petty mischiefs.
Their scathing hatred will, soon, reap the foul and weed-choked crop of the world, to let
it lie fallow in oblivion. The Basilisks will be appeased when this bloated carcass of a
world is finally gnawed to the bone, fossilized.

Thus the feud between HE and SHE, and the forces of Hell. Perpetual motion and
entropy, naturally opposed. The demons command frantic activity, devotion upon
devotion. Sinful revel, riotous worship-orgy by the light of the dancing tongues of
hellfire: frenzy.

HE, on the other hand, demands rigid subservience. Minimize yourself, you disgusting
mammal. Starve and parch as you fall on your face against the cold cathedral stones,
and beg forgiveness for your crime of existence. Cloister yourself away, ashamed of your
wasteful flesh: stillness.

SHE, of course, hardly raises a single one of HER baleful eyes towards pitiful
humankind. (Or wickheads, or earthbound, and certainly not pale ones.) And yet HER
aim is the same; let all flesh wither away, until SHE basks in the silence of the world,
dead, that once reigned before neonate HE hissed up at her from beneath the cruel
slopes of Bergen Chrypt.

The reason the demons are willing to draw near Galgenbeck, HIS temple lair, but not
Bergen Chrypt is because SHE is the more terrible of the two. HE was born, and all that
is born cannot avoid some mote of despised life within itself, but SHE knew the world in
its most lifeless desolation, and the void of that memory eats away at the perpetual
flames of Hell like rats gnawing through a corpse. They give HER a wide berth.
 INFERNAL ESCAPEE
With the breaking of the boundaries and the melding of this world and one below, you
have managed to flee from your perpetual torment back into the world you amassed
such sin as deserved it in. Expect no calm life, though. The devils that now prowl the
world bay for your blood, your cage still awaiting you like a gaping grave in the
sweltering cell blocks. All there is for you now is to wander, eking out an accursed
half-life in these final days.

● Boon: SCAR TISSUE. So often has your flesh been ripped and re-ripped,
tortured and branded, that seldom can the pain of the mortal world hurt
worse than what you’ve already felt. You roll TOU as 3d6+2.
● Burden: CALL OF THE GRAVE. You are fated for death, marked out as
damned on the face of the earth. Mortality pursues you relentlessly,
tallying your ill-gotten days. You roll AGI as 3d6-2.
● Purse: WAGES OF SIN. You really can’t take it with you. You have fled
the torture cages with only the rags on your back. You have gleaned 3d4
silver along the way.
● Belt: SINFUL SALVAGE. You’ve had to grab what you can ever since your
unlikely re-emergence into the world. You roll a d3 on the Armor table
and a d4 on the Weapons table.
● HP: BEEN THROUGH HELL. Though the abyss yawns open for the soul
you rightfully owe it, you are possessed of the determination to remain
alive just a bit longer. You have d6+TOU HP.
● Omens: NO REST FOR THE WICKED. It’s probably karma or something,
but all the breaks are tough for you. Little ever seems to go your way,
not unexpectedly, at least. You have d2 OMENS.

Fateful Escape (d6). How is it that you fled the blood-black cell blocks?
1. You broke your own wrist to pick the lock from the outside.
2. You left a divot of your own flesh in the hand of the demon sent to drag you
to your next agony, worming away in its confusion.
3. You filed through the bars with the flesh-biting, toothed edge of your cuffs.
4. You stoically endured the tortures until the demons ceased to find you
entertaining, throwing you out as a mind-broken husk.
5. You fashioned a crucifix of bones pried out of your cellmate’s corpse after
they succumbed to the torments, which shielded you while you fled.
6. You convinced a degenerate demon to let you slip with the promise of
grotesque pleasures, fleeing before it could have its way with you.
 CONDEMNATION
You don’t get put in Hell for no reason. The judges on high are uncharitable but
not unfair. What sin was it that sealed your sentence, you accursed scvm?

1. WRATH. One time every 12 hours, you can wax wroth on a particular
entity, your soul consumed in furious rage at their continued existence.
Your attacks hit them -4DR easier and you reroll 1s on damage against
them. Your fury will only subside once they die or you do. Such a target
cannot command or charm you with magic.
2. GLUTTONY. Your iron stomach demands more, and more, and more
upon more. Nothing will ever satisfy you. You cannot be poisoned or
sickened by spoiled food. When you feast on the flesh of a living
creature, you gain d6 HP per mouthful (d10 for large beasts like trolls).
3. SLOTH. You have forever dragged your feet to everything. You were
lethargic to emerge from the womb. Even to death you are laggardly.
The first time any day you would be Broken, roll a d6. On a 4 or better
you somehow lack the conviction to die, and remain at d3+1 HP.
4. LUST. You hunger after the fleshpots with a wolvish ravening,
inveterate wanton lech that you are. Such wild debauchery as you
steeped yourself in has taught you the roadways of sensation that
spiderweb the body. If a creature is of flesh, you can locate its weak
points. Striking them is +6DR harder for a precise blow but always crits.
5. GREED. Your palms itch for all, from the lone red cent to shining gold,
and everything in between. With a moment’s assessment you can
determine whether a creature is hiding something on their person, so
long as it would be evident to the eye (i.e., a dagger sheathed under
clothing, not a swallowed secret message).
6. ENVY. You have never been satisfied with your own form. Whatever
another has, you crave, and the moment you get it, it becomes
unsatisfying- to possess is dull, to crave is blissful. Given ten minutes’
obsessed observation of a mortal, for the coming 12 hours, you will
recall enough to passably impersonate their voice, gait, mannerisms and
similar.
7. PRIDE. You cannot bear mockery, cannot stand scorn. To fail at any
venture is as below you as the barren earth below the brooding sky.
Once every day, you can declare yourself uncontested master of a trade
or discipline (lock picking, cryptography, trap disarmament, first aid,
etc.); your obsession with proving yourself in that field gives you a +4
on rolls related to it throughout the day, but failing at it even with this
bonus deals d3 anguish damage to you, ignoring armor.
 DISILLUSIONED CULTIST
They say you should never meet your heroes, and that proof removes faith. Both tired
proverbs were found painfully true to you as your masters burst from beneath the blighted
earth in pillars of hellfire and began their toils of torment on the surface. You’ve lost your
reverence for them, and such a crisis of faith will almost certainly not be lethal. (You’ll wish it
was, but they know how to keep people alive for a very, very long time.) Now you find
yourself a pariah, lost and faithless, caught between the crusading devoted of the great
serpents and the exultant cults of the Pit. The end of the world can’t come fast enough.

● BOON: LIP SERVICE. You’re learned in the craft of keeping up appearances of obeisance
and reverent awe, while remaining utterly hollow within. You roll PRE as 3d6+2.
● BURDEN: FAINT OF HEART. You find yourself lacking in will, dogged by doubt and
ragged of resolve, even when your life’s on the line. You roll STR as 3d6-2.
● PURSE: WAGES OF SIN. You’ve got a pretty penny left for yourself, even after the
abundant tithes to the black pulpit. You start with 4d10s.
● BELT: WORKS OF DARKNESS. You have the basic equipment a servant of the Pit might
need to go about their business. You roll d4 on the Armor table and d6 on the Weapons table.
● HP: TITHE OF THE VEIN. Abundant blood offerings and rituals have steeled you
against having your flesh opened. You roll HP as d8+TOU.
● OMENS: PROFANE PROVIDENCE. Despite all your doubts, you still feel like
something down there’s watching over you. You have d4 OMENS.

Accursed Origin (d6). Where was it you fled from?

1. Congregation of the Blood Harvest. Servants of a fiend that claimed to be
the damned soul of the first vampire.
2. Temple of the Pierced Eye. Worshipers of a capricious demon who enjoyed
fomenting false prophecies.
3. Brethren of Darkness. Utterly generic followers of an unimaginative demon.
Nothing more exciting than performing inverse eucharists.
4. Enlightened Order of the Gate. Keepers of a portal to the underworld. Now
defunct and despised by all the other cults.
5. Blessed Ones of Famine’s Touch. Ritual self-starvers who prayed for crop
failures and blights. Often held anti-feasts, all sitting in silent salivation
around tables loaded with food, which was then burnt.
6. Devotees of Lucre. Gilt-worshipers who offered sacrificial murders in
exchange for plain old heaps of gold.
 CULTIC CURIO
Yet sticking in your hand from your time in the service of the dark powers is a…
1. RITUAL BLADE a chipped old knife, the hilt fashioned as a leering demon’s face, the
undulating blade its mocking, outthrust tongue. Does d6 damage, d4 to anyone
wearing armor. (Natural armor like crusty plating or thick flesh doesn’t count.)
Gouge your own flesh with the blade to appease the hunger in the darkness; take d6
damage and choose to either regain d10 HP or d3 uses of Powers for the day.
2. COWL OF THE COVEN a tattered, old, gray hood, fastened around the neck with a
tarnished ring bearing an unholy sigil. Pull it over your head and you can hear the
Whispers, a phantom chorus of voices murmuring in your ears. You have a 1 in 4
chance, upon entering a space, of detecting the location of something hidden- but
not the identity, whether concealed treasure chest or hidden razor-saw trap.
3. INFERNAL SCARRING a lattice of cuts through your flesh, forming a blasphemous
sign upon you. Bare them and the unholy assume you as one of theirs (if they’re not
of the cult you abandoned). While flaunting these sigils you have +d6 on Reaction
rolls for trolls, demons, fiends and the undead, and -d6 on Reactions from any
faithful (or at least non-demoniac) mortals.
4. DOCTRINE OF DARKNESS the creed of the cult, scribed in blood upon yellowed
velum, one of the copies distributed to every member. Spend d3 turns reciting it
aloud and then test PRE DR12 for the potency of your dictation. On a success, the
attention of fell things falls upon all who listened; all creatures you choose that could
hear and understand you take d8 damage, ignoring armor. On a failure, your lack of
resolve draws a rebuke from on low, and you take d10 damage, ignoring armor.
5. CROWN OF THE YOUNG PRINCE of solid gold, engraved with the sack of cities
and fall of heroes, but small enough to fit in a palm. Place it upon any infant (2 years
or younger) and they will be filled with malevolent will and unholy strength and
intellect. They will follow your directions, so long as they provide an opportunity to
kill, rob, defile, or otherwise spread horror and darkness on the face of the earth.
6. THURIBLE OF PAIN a spiked iron censer that burns flesh and hair in a ceaseless
flame of stolen hellfire. You must refuel it (it uses up one head of hair, or a limb
worth of flesh, per hour). While the noxious smoke pours from the thurible,
anything that breathes within 13m of it takes d3 damage per turn, ignoring armor.
Every turn, test TOU DR10 or you also take that damage.